I knew why he spoke to me this way. He had to come down on me hard to keep the right balance between us, because there, in the midst of his very pointed comments, there quaking beneath his seemingly unshakable stolid surface—back to that ripple of vulnerability again—I saw that vulnerability shimmering like a mirage between us. He was making these statements to remind me about the difference between master and submissive, because on one level he worried that the barrier would crumble, that I’d see where he was weak, his Achilles heel, where he was empty, where he hurt, places he was unfamiliar with, behaviors that were uncomfortable. We both had a lot at stake. He was right, I’d better not toy with him. If the important barrier between us crumbled, the fantasy would vanish as so much silli
