I love blackmail. Not just for what it does to you, but for what it reveals about you. The moment you hand Me that first secret, that first picture, that first humiliating little confession—you think you still have control. you think you’re just playing along. How cute. How pathetic. But I know better. I always…

Do you remember the moment you slipped? The moment you gave Me something? Maybe it was small. A whisper of a secret. A picture you never should have sent. A confession you thought was safe. Oh, I bet you convinced yourself it was harmless. That it wouldn’t come back to haunt you. How wrong you…

Oh, look at you. Still here. Still clinging to the hope that maybe—maybe—this isn’t real. That I don’t really mean it. That you can wiggle out, undo what you’ve done, backpedal before it’s too late. How pathetic. you seem to forget who you’re dealing with. I don’t deal in empty words. I don’t rattle off…

Hahaha!…how cute. The lies you tell yourself. you think if you ignore Me, if you push the thoughts down deep enough, if you pretend hard enough… that I’ll just go away. That I’ll forget about you, about what you did, about what you gave Me. But you don’t get to just walk away from this….

you wouldn’t believe how much blackmail material I have now! Or maybe you would… maybe some of you are now part of My collection. Every single day, My collection grows. More desperate little fools handing over their secrets, their weaknesses, their proof of just how far they’ll go for Me. Some of you crawled willingly…

I know you’re out there. Sitting in the dark, refreshing your inbox, replaying every desperate, humiliating choice you made when you thought you could handle My blackmail games. How many times have you checked your messages today, hoping—praying—that I’m still amused enough to leave you dangling a little longer? Wondering if today’s the day you…