You know, sometimes you just have to go against your type. Take Crystal here. Small boobs, kinda plain looking, not really my type at all.

I mean, most of the girls I’m interested in have boobs bigger than Crystal’s head, and at least a little bit of junk in the trunk. Crystal had neither of those things.

But there was just something about her that caught my eye and I had to find out more. It’s not like I hadn’t taken a diamond in the ruff under my wing before, just not perhaps this ruff.

Fortunately Crystal, like most young women around her, have very few prospects. Most simply compete for the available eligible bachelors in hopes of finding one that they can have a better life with.

That makes it easy pickings for me, as I’m well know around here, and quite rich. So when I approached Crystal, she was eager to show interest, even in someone twice her age. In fact, that made it even better as far as she was concerned.

Of course they never seemed to ask where I had acquired my fortune from, or why I lived in a backwater place like, or where I went for weeks at a time. So after a few expensive dates, Crystal was more than eager to engage in a little fun in the bedroom.

She was terrible of course, the poor girl was inexperienced and just kinda laid there once the basic foreplay was over. Which was fine by me, she hardly even noticed the spinning pattern reflected on the mirror ceiling of my bedroom and just laid there for hours even after I was finished.

After a few more sessions, it wasn’t even necessary for her to see the spinning pattern for her to fall in to the trace state I’d instilled in her, a simple phrase from my lips was more than enough.

Which is exactly what I had done just a few minutes ago as she now stood, silent and still, in front of me.

“Crystal, how do you feel?”

“Calm. Relaxed.” she spoke softly in response.

“Good. And why are you here?”

“Because I want you to take care of me.” she continued.

“And how do you want me to take care of you?”

“I want you to tell me what to do, so I… I… don’t have to think.”

I smiled, it had taken a lot to get over that part. Crystal wasn’t stupid, on the contrary, she was very smart. So much so that not thinking was pretty much antithetical to her very being. It had taken a dozen sessions like this to get her this far.

“Good. And why don’t you want to think?”

“B… because… because thinking makes me… boring. Thinking makes me unattractive. Thinking makes me… makes me… makes me unwanted.”

She let out a little gasp as the words finally slipped from her lips, “Good Crystal, good.”

“You want to be desired don’t you? You want to be attractive don’t you? You want to be interesting don’t you?”

Crystal nodded along, eventually I could hear a simple “Yes” and a whimper come from her.

I smiled even more broadly and stepped in close to her, with my thumb under her chin I titled her head up until her glazed over eyes looked in to mine.

“Do you know what kind of women are desirable?”

She parted her lips slightly but no answer emerged.

“Slutty women are desirable.” another small whimper came from her.

“Do you know what makes a woman attractive?” again she did not respond.

“Women how have big fake tits and show them off to everyone.” her lower lip quivered.

“Do you know what makes a woman interesting?” Her eyes widened as a slight gasp came from her.

“Women that suck and fuck like it was their only purpose in life.”

Crystal’s eyes rolled back in her head as her whole body shivered with the orgasm that crested and she collapsed in to my arms. I carried her over to the bed and laid her on to it, the spinning pattern in the mirror above her taking her deeper and deeper, cementing todays lesson in to her mind.

Crystal might not have been my type physically, be she was definitely my type mentally, mentally strong, resilient, and hard to break.

It made breaking her that much more enjoyable.

But like all of them, she would only last so long and then she’d accompany me on one of my trips to the city where I’d introduce her to my clients. A few months after that she’d be hanging on one of their arms, as a trophy wife, or mistress most likely. There was always a chance that one of my more commercial clients would purchase her and she’d end up in a brothel somewhere. But I suspect the same thing that drew me to her would draw one of my wealthy clients to her as well.