Love Letter

       If you are astute and perceptive—and I would not be here if you were not—you will realize very quickly just how well I understand you.  Or at least, this part of you, this most pertinent part: the part that drew you to me or that inspired me to select you.
     
        You are here with me because you want to be controlled.  I will control you.  I will consume you the way an expanding supernova devours the bodies within its orbit: spectacularly and completely.  This is a reciprocal relationship, however.  I want you to find our mutual interaction beautiful, even if you only find it so upon reflection at a later date, when you are alone again, and calm; dressed once more in the clothing of your everyday life, and no longer sweating and shaking in pain.  And there will be pain, I assure you.  You will suffer for me. You will suffer as you have always longed to suffer.  You will suffer in multitudinous and novel ways.  But you have my guarantee that the tests and pain I offer you will be of the best, most personalized sort that I can administer.  I intend that you find the pain to be exquisite.  My personal and professional vanity demands it.   I have acquired the requisite skills and cultivated them.  The tools themselves were selected for their efficacy, quality, and their appeal to my aesthetics.   I am a scholar by nature and vocation, and I have been studying what I am going to do to you for a long time.  In fact, I am studying you as well.  No botanist, no biologist ever observed his subject as intensely as I study you.  You must realize that this is what I am doing when I stare at you, silent and unblinking. You find my attention almost painfully exhilarating; both validating and frightening.  You will feel very cared about.  And I will not let you be anything less than perfect for me. 
    
        I want to break you open, the way a frozen stream of water bursts open a crack in a stone.  You will reveal yourself to me, this part of you that I want.  And you want me to see it, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.  While I hold you in my hands, my greed for you is relentless, pitiless.  You shall relinquish yourself to me.  What’s more, I insist that you relinquish yourself with pleasure and gratitude.  If you are bottled up or don’t know how, then you must be willing for me to pull you out of yourself, like a long string.  Like a never-ending scarf from a magician’s hat.  Or, if you’re an especially hard case, like a Guinea Worm.  It can be very painful, for you, at least, but I am happy to do it if you are willing.  I am voracious and I like to eat another piece of you.  I am intellectually vain and I love it when my intuition is right about someone like you; when my suspicion about your weakness or obsession is confirmed.  It feels like I ripped out your heart and am holding it in front of your very eyes.  Look at it.  I will not allow you to avert your eyes from what you are.  We will examine this piece of your nature now, together, in the open light.  I am here with you, experiencing this with you.  I support you, and I am as unyielding as an oak.  You cannot fail; you cannot fall.  For now, you can only exist as you are, feeling what I want you to feel.  I am defining your identity.  And because you feel possessed, you also feel safe and protected.  And because you feel desired, you also feel special and beautiful.  I find that the pain you endure for me, the stunts I make you perform, are heroic and admirable.  (In truth, you suffer mostly for yourself—because you simply enjoy it—but the fiction of enduring pain for another is so much more romantic).   This part of you is what gives you value to me.  I like to scrutinize it, play with it, in ways that may make you uncomfortable at first.  And you will find that I provoke within you a strong desire to please.  You will want to make me do more of it to you.  When I control you, you crave my approval.  This is crucial.  You will feel the delicious sensation of falling in love. You want to be a Good Boy for Miss Margo Adler. 
     
        When I release you, you will take pride in what you have endured.  You will have a sense of accomplishment, as if you had climbed a mountain or run a marathon.  Nobody around you will know, and they would not understand if they did, but you will know that you have courage and fortitude and valor.  You will press on the marks on your skin in the shower, and your eyes will slit closed in remembrance and satisfaction.  Even after your body is healed, you will be able to recall what we have done together.  What it feels like to be mine, where you are accepted and beloved. 

2 thoughts on “Love Letter”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.