It's not sentient, and Wendy watched me through it.It's not sentient, and Wendy watched me through it. I glanced at the time. Magic. I felt it all around me, the magic of nature, of Clarke's technology, and most importantly, of what it was I was going to do tonight. For tonight I was going to do something I had sworn was on the other side of my limit. My relationship with Kathy was spectacular, both in our affection, and the heights to which we drove our understandings of power, and submission. We discussed our scenes beforehand, and she had never yet used the word. But I stopped at breaking the skin. I did that once, when using a light whip, and immediately stopped the scene. She was disappointed, but she understood. That was my limit, I was making a mark. But tonight, of her own free will, I would shed Kathy's blood on this sand, and leave a mark on her body nature could not erase. "You have got to be kidding." I was sure she was. "No, Ken, listen, I'm deadly serious. I want this." "But, but... Look, remember that time with the whip? You know I can't stand blood." "Bullshit. You've a registered medical degree, you're registered on the Cutter's list." Her voice softened. "Look, Ken, it's symbolic. I love you. I want to do this as a symbol of just how far that goes. Look, I know you. You write in your journals every day, you write poetry, position papers. I know you, I know you write. I haven't lived with you for almost a year now without knowing that. You've a romantic soul, and you know it. You can understand, can't you?" she said, in that frustratingly pleading voice that always melted my heart. And the most damning thing about the whole thing was that Yes, I did understand what she meant, what she wanted. I'd seen the vast and profound depths of her soul she wanted to explore; I'd even seen them in me, and that's scary. |