"You can't hurt me."
Words whose sultry delivery does nothing to undercut their inherent lie. A grip too firm, turn too quick, blow too forceful and there will be screams, and tears, or even a shuddering cessation. Hurting people is so easy most do it on accident, let alone when I bend my creative faculties towards the task. Such things are obvious to us both, just as obvious as her smiling invitation is to be hurt. To feel exquisite agony. Sharp sensation sparking into a cerebral storm of sensation as to numb of still turbulent thoughts. To focus everything on this singular moment were there are only waves of tantalizing experience. Just as I will use that pain as the underlying percussion to the piece I am conducting, an ever present rumbling.
The words are invitation, challenge, and reassurance. Just not technically true.