Page 44 of Truth

I let that set in before I continued. “Remember the lesson with the cane?”

She nodded. “It’s not the object, it’s the person using it.”

I smiled. “Good girl. And how do you think that applies here?”

Brianna looked down again, but I could still see her face clearly. She was thinking, trying to figure out the puzzle I’d given her. I had no doubts she would, however. It would just take her some time and thought to wrap her head around something she’d probably never considered.

Time ticked by, and the light coming through the window changed from sunlight to the artificial lights of the city. I reached over and turned on the lamp so we wouldn’t be sitting in the dark.

“Pain is relative?”

“Meaning?”

“Everyone is different.” She hesitated. “And... it depends on the person?”

“Very good.” I kissed her forehead and smiled. “Pain isn’t bad any more than a cane. It’s the individual who is administering it, and the person who’s receiving it, and the situation they’re in. As long as they agree on the level, the use, then it can be pleasurable.”

She nodded, then appeared to think very hard about something again.

“I’m scared.”

I pushed her hair back behind her ears. “What has you scared?”

“I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t like it. I shouldn’t—”

“Sweetheart, there is no right or wrong about what we like and what we don’t like. It just is.”

“And you... you like to pull my hair?”

I chuckled. “Yes. I like it a lot.”

Now that the crisis appeared to be over, I changed positions again and tucked her head back into the crook of my neck.

“You should never feel ashamed or embarrassed about something you enjoy. Or something you don’t enjoy, for that matter.”

“What if...”

“Go on.”

“What if I don’t like something you do?”

I continued to caress her as we talked. Even though she was calm, I knew from experience that could change in an instant.

“First, we would talk about it like we’re doing now. If it were something you truly didn’t like, however, or were uncomfortable with doing, we wouldn’t do it again. It’s called a hard limit.”

“A hard limit.”

I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or herself, but I answered her anyway. “A hard limit is something you absolutely, under no circumstances, want to do or try.”

She was thinking again.

“Do you have... hard limits, too?”

“Of course. Everyone has hard limits, even if they don’t call them that.”

She was quiet.

“Would you like to know what some of mine are?”

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