A man has to take responsibility

“When we both agreed to this new arrangement Megan, we both became responsible to see it through. That includes me. I like to think that we’ve now established a baseline of love and trust, so you should know that everything I do comes from that place. Including your punishment.”

Her face paled slightly.

“Punishment… but I bought the clothes.”

“Yes, but you didn’t finish the essay. Plus, you’ve tried to change our agreement.”

“I just don’t want to throw my whole life away. Please, just be reasonable.”

“I like to think I am being reasonable. I’m not so much angry as disappointed right now. I should have done more to encourage you to keep your word this week – I’ve been slack, so that’s on me too. I won’t fail you again, Megan, and so I need to make sure you won’t fail me…”

Her eyes dropped to her feet. She couldn’t stand disappointing me. Probably left over bullshit from her strict and borderline abusive father. Daddy issues are the worst… and the best.

“We found something inside you Megan, a truth you’d only suspected was there. The real you. And you asked me to help you bring her out, and I agreed. I’m going to help you Megan, help you to be your true self. And sure, maybe your friends won’t like who you really are, maybe your parents won’t either… but if anything it’s their fault that you had to bury this side of you for so long. But at least you know I’ll love you even more for becoming the fucktoy we both know you are.”

“I’m sorry… I just… can I at least keep a few outfits?”

I thought about it. She did have a point – there would be times where it would be very helpful to conceal this new life of ours. But if I gave ground it would invalidate my argument and set us back. It was clear that giving her this week off had regressed her… or cleared her head, given her perspective, whatever.

Maybe this fuckslut side of Megan wasn’t who she was, or not completely. Maybe people are more complicated than that. And Megan was so smart, maybe smarter than me, at least academically… could someone that smart ever really become just an object and a toy for men? I felt suddenly uncertain, felt my resolve wavering. It all seemed somehow unrealistic, just a fantasy. Was she right? Should I compromise and try to find some balance between these sides of her? Or should I double down and be a hard ass?

What about me? What did I want? Do I want the old Megan I fell in love with, but with more kinky games? Did a want to just bring some spice into what we had, or to transform her? Did I want her to have a full life outside of being a fucktoy or did I want to break her and make her my **** completely?

A decision had to be made. I knew it was a pivotal moment, and I suspected that she knew it too. It explained her pushback and hesitation. Maybe it was a question of human nature – could anyone, especially someone with her raw intelligence, completely give up their agency and will to another person, even one they loved? I wasn’t sure… perhaps it was impossible without serious reinforcement. And training of course.

I came back to myself and noticed her staring at me, trying to puzzle out whatever I was thinking. I was showing weakness. If I waited any longer, she’d have the upper hand again and I might never have this choice again. If I was going to be the one to determine the nature of this arrangement, I’d have to do it now.