A conversation.

"You tell me," Natalie said. "This is your last chance to back out if this is an elaborate prank. Are you fucking with me?"

Naomi met her gaze. "Natalie, I swear on my soul that I am not fucking with you. This is real."

"So what happens next time you brush against someone on the street?" Natalie asked with concern.

"Not sure," Naomi said as she idly ran her nails along Natalie's scalp. "But remember, that can be as much a gift as it can a curse."

"A gift?" Natalie was very relaxed. Naomi was now gently massaging her face. "How?"

"For when you get sick of me," Naomi said as though it was obvious.

"Sick of you?" Natalie was shocked. "Why do you think I'd get sick of you?"

"We're still young, babe. What makes you think you'll still want me around in five years, let alone fifty?"

Natalie sat up, ending the massage, and Naomi followed suit. They sat cross-legged across from each other on the couch, still naked and sweaty from their previous activities. Natalie spoke with deep concern.

"Naomi, we've been together for years. We've talked about long-term plans. Shit, we talked about where we want to retire! Why would you assume I'd break up with you?"

Naomi spoke soothingly. "I'm not assuming, I'm preparing. Remember, everything is about you now. If you said you never wanted to see me again, I'd feel a little sad, but that sadness would be nothing compared to the satisfaction of abiding by your wishes. Until somebody else touched me, of course."

"So you know if someone touches you, you'll be like this for them? Doesn't that fuck with your head a little bit? Like this morning you would have gladly left me for Gavin."

"Davin," Naomi said with a grin. She put her hands on Natalie's thighs. "And I would have slit your throat for him. Or my own throat. I get how weird that must sound, but that's just the way it is."

"It's not weird, it's fucking disturbing!" Natalie cried out. "How are you so chill about all this?"

"Ask yourself this: would it be better for you if I wasn't chill? If I was freaking out?"

"No," Natalie admitted.

Naomi was gradually moving her hands up Natalie's body. As she touched the underside of her breasts, she giggled. "There's you're answer. I'm chill because being chill is the best thing I know how to be for you. It's not just your orders - every second of every day, the only priority in my mind is you. I wake up for you, I breathe for you. I brush my teeth for you, I eat for you."

"Wait," Natalie said. The massage had her feeling a little more relaxed again and she leaned forward into Naomi's kneading hands. "What do you mean you eat for me? Isn't that something you're doing for yourself?"

Naomi shook her head emphatically. "Not anymore. I'm still your girlfriend, and it's better if your girlfriend isn't malnourished or unwashed. If you wanted to see what **** by starvation looked like, I wouldn't let another bite of food pass my lips. If you loved the smell of body odor, I'd stay out of the shower. I do all these things because they make me more effective at serving you."

Natalie suddenly felt lightheaded. As the gravity of the situation set in, Naomi gently guided her to turn around. Now she had her back to her girlfriend, who was firmly massaging along her right scapula. It felt wonderful.

"Now, is there anything else I can do for you?"