“That’s not exactly hard to do,” she snaps, glaring at her friend in the mirror. But genuine concern is so clear on Amina’s face that Lili immediately feels regret. “Sorry,” she sighs, turning around to lean against the sink. She grasps Amina’s hands in hers. “Sorry, I’m sorry. But I’m fine, I promise. I know what I’m doing. What we’re doing—we’re clear about, like, boundaries and limits.” It’s not quite a lie, but not quite the truth.
Amina raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “You used to say talking about limits before sex was inherently unsexy and the equivalent of spoon-feeding.”
A complicated bit of shame and discomfort sparks; she is not used to opening up. “Yeah, well, maybe I’ve grown up. It’s not—he’s not doing anything I don’t want, nothing I’m not asking for. It’s...” She exhales. This is hard to talk about, even with her closest friends. “It’s good, okay? Like, all of it—I think it might actually be good for me, with him. This time we just got a little carried away.”
“Li, what are you... “ Her friend sighs, choosing her words. “What are you getting out of this?”
Lili stiffens. “What do you mean?”
“Imean: You’re a brilliant, beautiful, young woman. He’s very handsome, and he’s filthy rich. I get that he’s intelligent, too, and has this Old World charm. I see the similarities, between you two, and how the differences—the age gap—might appeal to you. But what are you actually, truly, getting out of this?”
Lili frowns. “I don’t understand. Do you mean materially?”
“No, Lili—underneath the sex, why isthisthe sex you want? Sex where he hurts you?”
Lili blinks, surprised. “Wow, okay—next time, I’ll make sure to lie back and think of England, Jesus.”
“I’m not judging you,” Amina insists, grasping her hands. “I’m just trying to understand, I promise—I’m trying to look out for you.”
Lili lets out a thin exhale. It goes against her well-oiled protection mechanisms, to spell things out like this, to share what’s raw and dark inside of her. But after a few moments, she tries. “It... it makes it a bit easier,” she says, quietly. Shaking free of one of Amina’s hands, she toys with the edge of her sunscreen tube. “Like, sex like this—sex with him, specifically—it... it makes it easier to deal with all of this. All of me.”
Amina nods, cautiously. “Okay,” she concedes, “walk me through that.”
“I don’t know... that whole idea of subspace, you know?”
“Sure, yeah. Psychological surrender, emotional release. Like, through intense BDSM or power play. You sort of trip a wire, and fall into yourself, and out of yourself?”
Lili gives a little nod. “I’ve tested it out before, with other people. Not explicitly, but... trying to get there, letting them rough me up, encouraging them to do so. But it never—it never got me anywhere. I never actually felt safe enough to let go, to let them do what they wanted to me. To be honest about it. Felt too risky to find out that they might be interestedonlyin hurting me, rather than pushing me? I don’t know, there is a distinction there. There is a distinction there, and it’s important. If you push someone, you have to catch them,” she adds, soft; feels destabilized from so many words. “Slapping me around a bit isn’t the point. It’s... you can get somewhere inside of yourself, I think, with the right person. If you don’t trust that, you don’t get anywhere.”
“So, you trust him?”
She nods. “Sexually? Yeah, I do. This time, with the bruises—it’s like the rough sex both failed, and succeeded, past what I’ve ever experienced? Like, the promise of what subspace could give me? I don’t know, it’s the pain you’re both seeking out, the pain you’re running away from...” She trails off, veering too close, too much, too vulnerable. “Anyway, he’s different, too, than what you’d expect. He’s notAmerican Psycho, he’s nothurting me just to hurt me. I’m asking for it. If you knew him, it’s clear that he—he has some depth that’s rare, a sense of feeling that’s honestly a bit staggering. I feel good, having sex with him.”I feel safe, she thinks. “It’s a bit unexpected, coming from a man like him. Like he knows how to attune to people. To me, I guess. You know?”
Amina’s frown deepens, furrow between her brows serious. “No, Lili—Idon’tknow. I’ve never even really met him—it’s like you keep him sealed out of your life, completely separate from us—”
Lili grips the porcelain sink, on edge. “One step at a time,” she warns.
Her friend sighs, heavily. Lili—with relief—detects surrender in the sound. “It’s not that I don’t get rough sex, or enjoy it sometimes,” Amina concedes. “I mean, what self-respecting person hasn’t been choked out a bit—”
Lili snorts. “Nice, classy,” she mutters.
“All I’m saying is maybe tell him to ease up next time, yeah?”
“Right,” Lili concedes, turning back to rummage through her makeup bag again.
Amina’s eyes narrow in the mirror’s reflection. “You do talk about this, don’t you? This is consensual, right?”
Lili makes an aghast sound. “Jesus, Ami—yes, obviously!” she replies. “I consent, I’m very consenting—if anything, I’m the one pushing our edges, honestly. Now, come on, stop mothering me, or I’ll think you and Jamie have gone completely vanilla.”
“Don’t try and deflect, you’re horrible at it.”
Lili sighs. “Please, just trust me?” she asks; she’s shared as much as she’s willing to, and it’s more than she’s ever been comfortable with. “I know how to take care of myself, I really do—and this is good, I promise. A little rough, but it’s... good for me. It’s what I want.”
Amina holds her gaze for a long moment. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
She exhales a heavy gust of air. “Fuck, fine,” she relents. Lili’s chest lightens, buoyant. “Okay, yeah, I trust you.Fuck—don’t make me end up being stupid about this, okay?”
