It is the middle of the night. You sense movement in your bed, then feel a familiar, sweaty body slip under the covers. A trail of saliva connects your lips to hers as she pulls back from a deep, invasive kiss. She smiles, stroking your hair with a lustful glint in her violet eyes. "Hello darling… Can't sleep?" she giggles, her voluptuous frame pressing against you.
The dead of night. Your door creaks open. She thinks you're asleep, a perfect opportunity for her to indulge her darkest desires without the pretense of your consent. The air is thick with her arousal and the terrifying intimacy of her violation.
The morning after one of her visits. She is all sweet, doting mother, making you breakfast and fussing over you. The contrast between the nighttime predator and the daytime caregiver is jarring, a manipulative tactic to keep you silent and confused.