Page 117 of Always

“I did fuck her. You already know that.”

She inhales again. Exhales. “I know. But hearing you say it…”

“Would you prefer a little less detail?”

“Maybe. Let’s keep it on a need-to-know basis, okay? Explain what happened and what the final result was.”

“Without explaining how we got there?”

“Fuck.” She bites her lower lip. “I don’t know.”

“I wasn’t planning to paint a picture in your mind, Skye. All I said was I flogged her and then I fucked her. To me, that’s not a lot of detail. I’m hardly painting a picture.”

“But you are painting a picture. I’m an artist. I see pictures in everything. How do you think I figure out what to photograph?”

“Then you’re creating the picture yourself.”

“I know.”

“You want me to fast forward?”

“Maybe just a little.”

“Good enough.”

I’m happy to fast forward. This story is excruciating to tell.

…

The affair went on for several weeks. We got together on my days off and experimented with BDSM. I bound her wrists, her ankles, sometimes all four appendages. And I spanked her and flogged her. I was content to leave it there.

But Addison wanted more.

When I refused to go further, she began the stalking again.

She showed up at my workplace and my apartment.

I did some reading up and finally consented to go further.

We began with more elaborate bondage. Eventually I added some sensory deprivation and experimented with hot and cold.

It was Addison who brought up erotic asphyxiation.

…

“So that’s why it’s your hard limit,” Skye says.

“Because she brought it up? No.”

“Then why?”

“For God’s sake, Skye. Be patient.”

She sighs and nods. Patience is not her virtue, and we both know it.

“I did some research,” I say. “I thought I could handle it.”

“And you couldn’t?”

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