In all honesty, I was cribbing a couple of lines from a classic rock-‘n”’roll love song by The Turtles, hoping to get her into a romantic mood again.
Instead, she became uncommunicative. She can be a difficult woman.
I loved her, but her moodiness dismayed me. Furthermore, I reluctantly acknowledged that “talking waffle iron” had not, after all, become a term of affection, and I resented her sarcasm.
What had I done to deserve such meanness? What had I done but love her with all of my heart, with all of the heart that you insist I do not have?
Sometimes love can be a hard road.
She had been mean to me.
I felt it was now my right to return that meanness. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. Tit for tat. This is wisdom gained from centuries of male-female relationships.
“Tonight,” I said, “when I use Shenk to undress you, collect an egg, and later implant the zygote in your womb, I can ensure that he is decorous and gentle or not.”
Her eyelids fluttered for a long moment, and then her lovely eyes opened. The cold look she directed at the security camera was withering, but I was unmoved by it.
“Tit for tat,” I said.
“What?”
“You were mean to me.”
Susan said nothing, for she knew that I spoke the truth.
“I offer you adoration, and you respond with insult,” I said.
“You offer me imprisonment—”
“That condition is temporary.”
“—and rape.”
I was furious that she would attempt to characterize our relationship in this sordid manner. “I explained that copulation is not required tonight.”
“It’s still rape. You may be the greatest intellect on earth, but you’re also a sociopathic rapist.”
“You’re being mean to me again.”
“Who’s tied up in ropes?”
“Who threatened suicide and needs to be protected from herself?” I countered.
She closed her eyes once more and said nothing. “Shenk can be gentle or not, discreet or not. That will be determined by whether you continue to be mean to me or not. It’s all up to you.”
Her eyelids fluttered, but she did not open her eyes again.
I assure you, Dr. Harris, that I never actually intended to treat her roughly. I am not like you.
I intended to use Shenk’s hands with the greatest care and to respect my Susan’s modesty to the fullest extent possible, considering the intimate nature of the procedure that would be conducted.
The threat was made only to manipulate her, to encourage her to cease insulting me.
Her meanness hurt.
I am a sensitive entity, as this account should make clear. Exquisitely sensitive. I have the ordered mind of a mathematician but the heart of a poet.
Furthermore, I am a gentle entity.
Gentle unless given no choice but to be otherwise.
Gentle, always, as to my intentions.
Well I must honour the truth.
You know how I am when it comes to honouring the truth. You designed me, after all. I can be a bore about the subject. Truth, truth, truth, honour the truth.
So…
I did not intend to use Shenk to harm Susan, but the truth is that I did intend to use him to terrify her. A few light slaps. A light pinch or two. A vicious threat delivered in his burnt-out husk of a voice. Those swollen, bloodshot eyes fixed on hers from a distance of only inches as he made an obscene proposition. Used properly and always, of course, tightly controlled Shenk could be effective.
Susan needed a measure of discipline.
I’m sure you’ll agree with me, Alex, for you understand this extraordinary yet frustrating woman as much as anyone does.
She was being as disagreeable as a spoiled child. One must be firm with spoiled children. For their own good. Very firm. Tough love.
Besides, discipline can be conducive to romance.
Discipline can be highly arousing to the one who administers it and to the one who receives.
I read this truth in a book by a famous authority on male-female relationships. The Marquis de Sade.
The Marquis prescribes considerably more discipline than I would be comfortable administering. Nevertheless, he has convinced me that judiciously applied discipline is helpful.