“You had me last night,” I said. “It’s too dangerous to do this again so soon. I feel bad enough already.” “Those feelings soon fade,” h... replied confidently. “Tomorrow afternoon, come around to my house. We can have some fun.” “Derek no,” I said. “I can’t keep making up excuses.” “Just send Bryan out to play golf or something. The girls can entertain themselves.” “Stop, please Derek, just stop,” I said. “Oh c’mon sweetheart you love it,” he replied, smiling confidently. He was right. I did. ? ??????????? Shelearned something, then, that Guenther didn?t teach: the true art oftorture.? It was one thing to inflictpain, to see the reaction; it was cold and logical and rational.? But it was the difference between one whopaints wall, and one who paints portraits: the colors and tools were the same,application of a certain tincture resulted in a predictable shade, yes, but theartist creates something more: more than the mere sum of the palette, aninterwoven mastery that creates something. More

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