I am that I am. I am the am and the was and the is to come. I will be what I will be…
How shall I write a message to a slave, a woman who aspires to become property? Should I whisper that I read her profile, in which she was claiming her needs, her desire to suffer, her call for life imprisonment, torture and love? Or should I leave the pictures, their understandings, meanings or brutal poetic translations to Shakespeare and Virginia Woolf under Anais Nin’s influence? Or leave the words and the stories behind these words to Voltaire, Sade and Mandiargues?
But the words are missing. What happened to the words in your profile? Only the pictures are left. What a shame, pictures will not say all. They say a lot about obedience, dependence, capacity to serve, sexual authenticity, but they do not say all. They do not say about humility, sense of property and all the sensitivities, mental and psychological ones, a slave needs in her relationship with a Master. You could be simply a masochist living what she had been dreaming for years. Or a prostitute, offering at a high price what others dream about.
J’ ai besoin de tous les sens pour percevoir l’ intensité d’ un personnage. L’ image ne suffit pas. J’ ai besoin de ses odeurs, ses regards, sa voix, ses sensibilités, sa dépendance naturelle, sa soumission…
If you are who I think you are – and you are much more than a sewn up cunt – you might like this exercise. I will not turn a slave into a princess, unless she begs me for what she desires. And a princess will never become a slave unless…
I am a writer, dividing my time between Luxembourg and New York. I am 57 and not a Daddy, but an Owner. I do not even know if you speak French - but then nobody is perfect…If not, in the worst case I might use this message as the beginning of a short story…