It's hard, sometimes, not to feel like the eye of fucking Sauron, just waiting to alight on some trembling flower that hopes her naked spirit is enough to survive my judgment. Not out of any fear she has, but out of desire, out of a base need to be approved by someone whose approval is worth having. Because let's be honest, every contender who needs to give you his number on the tube or tries his luck in a bar has already knocked himself out of the game.

What do I do?

What I do is less interesting than who I am, but if you want it, I'm an academic psychologist who specialises in all that dark matter that fills your mind when no one is looking. I occasionally work for government, have a business, I'm commercially successful––all that vanilla breeding pen status stuff. Also, I'm in peak physical condition, so if dad bods are your thing, try elsewhere. I'm sure you'll be spoiled for choice.

Who am I?

Who I am is a charismatic intellectual with the sensibilities of a Palaeolithic hunter. What does that mean? It means that I will skewer the workings of your subjectivity with the spear of mind. (I'll skewer the dark heart of your carnal desires with something else, but that conversation is for later.) But for all that the theatre of cruelty enthrals me, I'm not unkind: I'll put you back together after I've taken you apart. And you'll work better when I do––but you know that already, don't you?

Who are you?

Your name is Legion for you are many. But for now, you will be cynical, intelligent, and attractive. How these cash out is for you to decide––but do be aware that I offer high standards on all three to you, and I do not believe in unreciprocated gifts. You will not be afraid to share how you look once we've established a rapport. You will possibly be a student or a professional; you will be willing to meet. You will be inexhaustibly tired of the earnest young men who think their anxieties interest you––and that's OK: they have mothers to love them instead. And you have me.

So let's meet; let's get a drink. Let's find ourself three hours in with a place to go and a desire to go there. Let's enact every carnal regression that a dominant will can exercise on a submissive one. Let's allow you to forget the pain of performance and submit to every savage ecstasy––and this is as much spiritual as physical, not that there's a difference.

Let's make it happen soon. It will be the encounter of the year, the decade, your life; who the hell knows.

But it won't happen unless you talk to me. So talk.