“Ok, sir.”
“Good girl. It’s too much. With a fast excuse, I leave. Incredibly I extend my hand, taking a picture of myself spread out. “Ok, sir.”
“Good girl. I talk about how annoying all of my “boyfriends” are. “Ok, sir.”
“Good girl. My hands shake as I hit send. But I already know the answer is yes. Is he right? I sense a weird hardness to a voice I haven’t heard of a man I met only an hour ago. I turn my computer off and focus on my phone—this random guy has my complete attention. I don’t want to show it to anyone… but he demanded it. “Are you naked?”
“Yes, sir,” I lie. Just boring.”
“Then tell me about it. That turns you on,” he explains, “and makes you respect me. It’s too much. “Are you naked?”
“Yes, sir,” I lie. Go there now. Or making food? “Because I said so!” he barks, “Don’t question me.
