They’re all real, the things I’ve written about: my lust, my protectiveness, my need to control, my strength and my aggression. Even my violent urges, my obsessions with oral and anal sex, and my wish to make you cry–they’re all in me, and you’ll experience them all. You will, because the things I wrote about you are real, too: your need to surrender, to have someone decide for you, to place your freedom in someone else’s hands and let him use you as he will. And so you’ll surrender to me, surrender your choices and your responsibility, and I’ll protect you and use you and break you and make you feel safe.

But now we need to let the physical reality catch up with all our words, girl. Now we need to touch. I need to put my hand on your neck and look into your eyes and watch you look down and become quiet and answer “yes, sir” when I tell you what I want. Now we need to live our natures together, if only for a moment, mine dominant and protective, yours submissive and obedient.

I need your surrender. And you, my dear girl, need to surrender to me, need to know that there is someone who understands you and who wants you the way you want to be, and to whom you can give yourself in willing submission.

The words will continue. But now there must also be the reality of your body against mine, of your lips against mine, of your breasts in my hands, of my strength and energy, of your heat and wetness.

You merely have to say “yes, sir.”

Say it.