“Yes?” “I want to restrain you.” Oh God. The rope. Swallowing, I say, “Will…will it hurt?” “No. I’ll be careful.” “Um. Okay, um. I believe you, but I’m still nervous. Why do you have to restrain me?” Staring into my eyes, he says softly, “I need control. I crave it. When I don’t have control, I feel…I don’t know how to explain the feeling. Only that I hate it.” “It calms you,” I whisper, suddenly understanding, though I don’t know how. Nodding, he moistens his lips. “Yes. Exactly.”
