Page 14 of Irish

“I’ve known people like Jamie. She was using deflection as a manipulation tactic. She used your criticism of her, exaggerated it to paint herself as the victim. They deny their part, attack you for defending yourself, and then reverse the story to turn themselves into the victim. Instead of making room for you at the table, they push and push until you fall off the bench. When you have enough and walk away, they’ll tell everyone they invited you and welcomed you with open arms and you turned toxic. They stab you in the back and complain about how you ruined their shirt with your blood. Meanwhile, theyhave everyone else so entranced, they are more concerned about the stained shirt than the stab wound. If anyone dares to point out the knife sticking out of your back, they claim self-defense, saying they finally had enough. Because they hand pick their victims and treat everyone else good, they follow right along.” Kylie said, her words betraying her own past with women.

“Right. She had to make it look like I was the reason everything happened. Sadly, another LittleLife friend warned me and I didn’t listen. Beth had the same experiences with Jamie. Jamie made up awful lies about her. She went as far as to call Beth’s work and get her fired, exposing her alternative lifestyles to the private preschool she taught at. Jamie could have ruined Beth’s life, but Beth had a supportive husband who helped her through it all.”

“There’s a pattern of behavior, but that isn’t uncommon. I mean, we see that through history with serial killers. When detectives would talk to their neighbors, family, and friends, they would all go on about how great the serial killer was. Narcissists are amazing at convincing everyone they are good people, meanwhile abusing just one person, their main victim,” Kylie said. Makenzie nodded, agreeing.

“There were several people who messaged me after our falling out about their own negative experiences with Jamie, none who would have the courage to say anything to her face. The thing with Jamie is, she spends time making her victim out to be mentally ill and a liar before she pushes them out. She plants the bugs in people’s ears and manipulates them to see things the way she does. She can list everything the person ever did wrong, even though the person didn’t do those things or not the way Jamie said they did. I truly believe some people see her for what she is, but they are either too scared to say anything or like their place in her group too much to cause waves.”

“A classic narcissist. I’m not a psychologist and I know that word is way overused in society, but everything you have said checks off another box.”

“Looking back, I can see everything she did to me, with Beth. She convinced me Beth was a terrible, horrible woman, and I bought it, hook, line and sinker. After I went through it, the guilt became overwhelming. I treated Beth the way these women treat me now, because I fell for Jamie’s lies. If I fell for them, can I blame the others for doing it to me? It’s like women who are surprised when the man they are with cheats on them after he cheated on his wife with her. She convinced me Beth was an awful human being and a liar. If he cheated on his wife with you, he’ll cheat on you with the next girl. If she could convince me that about Beth, why was I surprised when she used the same tactics to convince everyone else the same things about me? I’d barely known her when she gave me a list of women to stay away from, and everyone else agreed. If the entire group agreed, surely they had to be right, even though Beth had never done anything to me personally, I stayed away. I didn’t need that kind of drama in my life. She made it easy for them to all betray me when I left him.”

“Him?” Kylie asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Jamie needed a catalyst to get rid of me, something big that could be the final straw. He was it.” Drawn in by the empathy in Kylie's gaze, Makenzie accepted the silent invitation to share the weight she'd been shouldering alone for far too long. There was something about Kylie which made her trust her to share these secrets. She hadn’t told anyone else about any of this. The betrayal of her friends, the fear of living in an abusive relationship, or how heavy the guilt was upon her shoulders. Guilt for being so stupid. So naïve in believing anyone would want her, either as a friend, or a girlfriend. She was nothingspecial… but they’d made her believe, for a short time, she was. Something more than boring old Makenzie.

“Jamie introduced us on LittleLife and I trusted him,” Makenzie said, her voice trembling with the memories. “He was my first power-control dynamic relationship, and my first and only Daddy. At first, things were great. We played together in the chat rooms, talked on the phone, we’d FaceTime, but I never saw him. My camera was on, and he could see me, but I couldn’t see him. He sent me photos, just not of his face. Because he said he was a powerful government employee who needed to remain anonymous. I never allowed myself to think about why he was being anonymous, like perhaps he’s married, or catfishing me, or a bad person. Thinking back, I ignored the red flags because I wanted so badly to be loved and be in a DDLG relationship. He was really popular on the LittleLife boards, the women loved him. If he commented, he received hundreds of likes. The women craved male attention and there weren’t many men. Anytime a negative thought came into my head about his behavior, I rationalized it by thinking I was wrong, because, surely, if he was a bad guy, others would see it too. Exactly the same thing I did with Jamie. All too soon, he took more control than I consented to and violated my hard limits. His guidance turned into manipulation."

Kylie listened, her expression steady, giving Makenzie the courage to continue unraveling the tale of her past—a story where once shiny armor had rusted, and the knight had become the villain. Where the best friends became mean girls.

“He said he'd keep me safe,” Makenzie confessed, a bitter edge slicing through her whispered words. “Instead, he caged me with my own fears, held my trust against me until I was chained to him. He demanded more and more from me, and like an idiot, I listened and obeyed. I didn’t know Jamie was breaking my trust and telling him my secrets. It wasn’t likethe abuse was obvious. It was slow and steady until one day, I passed out unconscious at work and they hospitalized me for malnutrition and dehydration. He would punish me by taking away my food and water privileges. Yes, he called eating and drinking a privilege. By then, I was totally under his control, brainwashed entirely. There was so much depravity in him. Dark, nonconsensual depravity.” Her gaze dropped to her lap, hands fidgeting with the hem of her jacket, each word peeling back layers of pain and shame she'd buried deep inside. Hot tears stung at her eyelids. She’d been so damn stupid. She’d trusted him and believed him when he called her names. Degradation wasn’t a kink of hers. He’d abused her emotionally for months until she’d almost died.

“Consent isn’t negotiable,” Kylie said, her tone gentle. “True dominance empowers, it doesn't diminish. It's about lifting you up, not tearing you down.”

Makenzie met Kylie's eyes again, finding an ally where she had expected judgment. “When I turned to my friends and told them everything, I expected support and love. Instead, I got condemnation. They accused me of giving them an ultimatum: him or me. Jamie pounced on me in my most vulnerable situation. She tore apart every word I said, turned the fault on me instead of him. Worse, she convinced my two best friends that I was mentally ill, unstable and a pathological liar. She used my vulnerability to twist a knife in my back. If it was going to be him or me, they’d pick him.”

“They just believed her?”

“Honestly, there’s no end to her games. She thrives on manipulation and control. She commands her followers, don’t like this person. Don’t talk to that person. This person is a troll. We, myself included, all believed her. We did what she said. Once she got the idea in your mind… I mean, I did that with Beth. I thought she was the person Jamie told me shewas because Jamie gave me the evidence to support the claim. Turns out, the screenshots she showed me from Beth were fake. Jamie made a cloned account to look like Beth’s and sent herself messages.”

“She did what, now?” Kylie asked in disbelief.

“She makes a new account using the profile photo and name of the person she is mad at. She has a conversation with herself and screenshots it. Then, she deletes the fake account and convinces everyone, using the screenshots, that the other person did it. It’s genius, really. None of them talk to the other person or if they do, it’s to tell them they’ve seen the screenshots. No one wants to believe Jamie could be that devious. The more Beth argued and defended herself, the more believable Jamie was about her being unhinged. When Jamie showed me the screenshots between her and Beth, I believed her. Why would she fake them? Why would she go that far? It wasn’t until later, after she did the same thing with me, I went and talked to Beth. Beth was gracious and understanding, more than I would have been. Instead of believing Jamie, I should have spoken with Beth, listened to her side. Instead, I did what Jamie told me to and blocked her. If she was mentally unstable and terrible, I didn’t want anything to do with her.”

“She played you. I volunteer at a domestic violence shelter and the way Jamie acts is the way many of the abusers do. They make the abused partner look crazy to the rest of the world, so they don’t believe them when they speak out about the abuse,” Kylie said.

“Exactly. Just like now, I wish people would have had a conversation with me instead of just believing Jamie completely and cutting me out. Even with her, ‘evidence,’ I deserved a conversation. I had broken up with my boyfriend, my Daddy, and when I turned to my friends for comfort, I was blocked by them all. They laughed at me, had lies told about me, he evenreleased a video of me masturbating on command. I’m glad my face isn’t in the video but seeing my intimate video turned into a meme and mocked… I ended up turning into what they called me, mentally ill.”

“Listen to me,” Kylie said very quietly. “Do not tell Irish about this. He will hunt down this bastard and kill him.”

Makenzie laughed lightly. “I’m not kidding, Makenzie. I can tell you with all certainty, the men in this room would ride with him across the country and destroy this bastard.”

The intensity in her words startled Makenzie. She nodded, agreeing. She couldn’t put Irish at risk, especially for her. “Luckily, I got help. The hospital had a psychologist and counselor on staff, and I continued to see them after discharge. At their advice, I left LittleLife and all the connections behind me. I threw away my stuffy, my coloring books. Literally, got rid of all evidence of DDLG and BDSM. Books, movies, toys… all gone.” She could say the words over and over, but her brain didn’t obey her. The thoughts still intruded. The need flowing through her like blood.

“Oh, Makenzie, I am so sorry you went through all of that. They weren’t true friends, and they aren’t good people. I promise you, that Daddy you met online isn’t a Daddy. He wasn’t a real Dominant. That’s not how they act. He was nothing but a wannabe who needed his ego stroked,” Kylie said. “I’d love to spend five minutes alone in a room with him.”

“The hardest part of all this has been how hard it is to trust my instincts anymore. How can I when the people I thought I was safe with were the most dangerous and the lifestyle I thought was full of open-minded good people was full of judgmental, jealous and insecure women?”

“No, Makenzie. First, it wasn’t your fault and second, you had the correct instincts, you ignored them. There’s nothing wrongwith your instincts, you just need to follow them when they tell you something is wrong,” Kylie countered.

“After all of that, I went as far away from them as I could. I dated the most vanilla man out there. We got engaged, but something was missing. Even though I’d been hurt so badly, I longed for the power-control relationship like the books I read. A healthy one, a fairy tale with a happily ever after. But now, I don’t trust my instincts or other people at all. I’ve purposely not made new friends in years. Now, I keep to myself. I have acquaintances that I hang out with occasionally, but not anyone I trust enough to be best friends with. I’m terrified of getting hurt again. I don’t belong to any of the websites, go to clubs, or even read books. I can’t think about what I can’t have… it makes me crave it more. It’s like tasting the best, most delicious food in the world and as soon as you’ve enjoyed it, you have a deathly allergic reaction and can never, ever have it again for the rest of your life.”

“But, sweetheart, you aren’t allergic to it. Using your same analogy, it’s like buying a spoiled gallon of milk and deciding that because it smelled bad when you opened it, you would never drink milk again. Instead, you pour out the bad gallon and buy a new, fresh one and you take a big drink. You pour it in your cereal and stir it into your hot chocolate, knowing this one won’t spoil everything it touches.”

“Maybe. But maybe, I’m scared every gallon I buy will be disgusting and I can’t risk getting sick by trying it again.”

“I can see why you would be hesitant. Know this, the bottoms at the submissive coffee aren’t spoiled milk. They are the cream that rises to the top that you make ice cream out of. I’m not sure you make ice cream out of the cream at the top, but you know what I mean. They are the best. These women have had their own challenges and insecurities and survived their own versions of hell. None of us are perfect, but I would trust them. It’s likethis place, Grand Ridge, it just pulls in the good, like a magnet and when bad shows up, we all work together to get rid of it. We protect each other. It’s a beautiful thing. Listen, sweetheart, you’re not alone in this. What you’ve been through? It’s rough, but it doesn’t have to define your future. There are good people in the scene, ones who’ll honor and cherish the trust you give. If you are willing to open yourself up, I think the women here could help you heal your broken heart.”

“Maybe,” she whispered. “I’m only here for a couple of weeks, though.”

---