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Inside the folder, in each flap, was a fantasy list. I scanned it, my face heating up: secret sex in<br />
public … sex with an authority figure … a professor … a police officer … tied up (Gulp! Trust and<br />
control!) … served, spanked … serviced … waited on … sex with a famous person … water …<br />
nature … rescued … elevator … airplane (Jesus, flying could be involved?) … blindfold … food …<br />
taken by surprise … threesome … foursome … watched … being watched …<br />
It was enthralling, thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.<br />
“Remember,” Matilda said, “you choose your fantasies, set the limits and maintain total control.<br />
Anytime you want to, you can stop.”<br />
I looked around the room at the Committee. This time my eyes paused for a moment at each warm,<br />
expectant face. All these women made me feel like the biggest adventure of my life was about to<br />
begin. And yet, I saw myself fussing and worrying over every single scenario, slowly neutering my<br />
adventures, whittling them down to carefully choreographed interludes. I’d do this but not that. Or I’d<br />
be willing to try this but only if that were in place. I saw myself double- and triple-guessing myself<br />
over each decision. Then I remembered something my dad said, the day he finally pried me off the<br />
side of our backyard pool. Since I was a toddler, I’d been content enough to clutch the walls, to let my<br />
legs barely kick at the water. But he said: If you don’t wanna drown, sugar, you gotta learn how to<br />
go all the way under.<br />
So I had no choice but to do what I did next.<br />
I tossed the fantasy folder to the middle of the table.<br />
“Thank you all. But I’m not going to fill out this fantasy list. Not because I don’t want to do this.<br />
Quite the opposite. I not only want to do this, I need to do this. But I have been making lists and labels<br />
and setting limits all my life, living within strict boundaries and according to certain rules. You’ve<br />
told me today that your job is to keep me safe. You’ve told me that I can stop the fantasies at any time.<br />
Those seem like reasonable limits. The rest, I leave in your hands, with my only instruction being<br />
this: Surprise me.”<br />
I had the attention of the whole table. Mouths were agape. Cassie was covering hers with a hand,<br />
her lovely bracelet dangling from her wrist, one I’d soon be wearing.<br />
”So you accept?” she asked.<br />
“Yes,” I said, feeling defiant, triumphant. “I accept.”
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