"He had stuff," says Jackson vaguely. "And I thought maybe you could fix me and I could go to class but it's okay if you can't."

"I can't, but if it's bad enough that you need it you should go to the health office. You're going there with me."

"They'll make a huge deal out of it. You're making a huge deal out of it," says Jackson, shaking his head.

"Yes I am, because your dom is supposed to take care of you, it's called aftercare, it's a thing. You don't start anything if you have stuff after."

"This was last night! He can't just hang around all the next day."

"Then he shouldn't have done it in the first place!" She puts a hand on her face. "Look, the health office won't make a big deal out of it, they'll think it's just a fun night gone a bit too far, just don't make a habit out of it."

"I wasn't trying to earn a punishment," says Jackson. "And I don't want to go to the health office."

"It's not about the punishment, he has to take care of you after it, did you never go to any sex ed classes?"

Blink. "I was kind of in virtuality around then? But like I said this was last night."

She runs a hand through her hair. "Jackson," she pleads.

"I don't want to go to the health center! They'll make it into a big thing and interrogate me and if they want to know his name it's on my neck! I'm going to go lie down." And he limps to his door and pulls it open.

She sighs again. "Just—be careful. Take care of yourself. And maybe read some sex ed pamphlets."

"I don't see what the pamphlets would do, I don't decide what Master does with me," sighs Jackson tiredly.

"...you can decide what he doesn't do? You. Can set limits. That's a thing. In a healthy relationship you only do things both of you want to do."

"I don't want to decide things," Jackson says, lurching into his room. There is a flomp noise from his bed; he hasn't bothered to close the door. "I don't want it to be up to me, I just want Master to choose for me."

She walks to his door but doesn't walk in. "Can you not say the things you don't want?"

"I didn't even know it wouldn't be better in the morning," Jackson mumbles into his pillow.

"Well, now you do know it, so next time you tell him when it's too much?"

"That'd count as losing count."

"Safeword, then."

"Don't have one."

"Will 'stop' not suffice? Will he punish you for saying stop when you haven't even decided on a safeword?"

"...Yeah? If I'm not supposed to be talking or only saying certain things."

"I get off," Jackson objects.