Page 599 of End Game

He exhales through his nose. “Hands. Paddle. Flogger. A crop once.”

“Cane?”

“No.”

“Strap?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Interested in either?”

“Both.” That answer comes faster.

Interesting.

I shift forward, forearms on my thighs. “Limits remain the same as our last full negotiation? No degradation. No humiliation.”

“Still hard limits.”

“Sex?”

He thinks about it. “Maybe.”

“That's not consent to sex.”

“I know.”

“It means I will not assume sex because you're naked, aroused, subspaced, or because you consented to something sexual previously.”

“I know.”

“I am still saying it.”

His mouth curves. “Of course you are.”

I ignore the commentary.

“Do you want marks?”

“Yes.”

“How visible?”

“I don't care.”

“That isn't an answer.”

He looks mildly annoyed.

Good. Annoyed Micah is cognitively present.

“Anywhere clothing covers.”

“Bruising?”

“Yes.”

“Welts?”