You know those girls? The hot ones. The too hot ones. The ones you see in malls and on beaches who never give anyone a second glance? The ones that are too hot to be movie stars. The ones who are too hot to approach - yet when you do, drunk at a bar or dared by your friends, she says she has a boyfriend?
I am that boyfriend. Those girls are mine.
Keep your hands off them.
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Once you might have had a chance. Once those girls were ordinary girls. Most of them were just on that edge - not beautiful enough to warrant attention, but not so plain as to build on other talents. Not bright enough to dismiss beauty as a sham. Once these were the girls who wanted to be beautiful. Wanted to be looked at as you look at them now.
Throughout the ages I have sought out these girls. I have had my many girlfriends gauge the looks each woman gives them. Always envy, but how much? When she finds one she approaches her, invites her. My girlfriends offer her time in their presence. It doesn't matter the excuse. The ones I seek will always drop everything. Soon they will drop their lives.
After she is sure, my girlfriends will take her with them. Sometimes a runaway, sometimes an assistant. She will bring the girl to me, into the great hall where she kneels before my throne. She will be surprised, shocked, by the women, as beautiful as her mentor in every color and range of beauty scattered naked around me. She will swallow in disgust at their open moans of pleasure - as they entertain themselves, but never an eye straying too far from my need.
