Give Morgan the choice

You turn to Morgan, meeting their aged eyes directly. "I want you to decide," you say, your voice steady despite the weight of what you're offering. "If you want me as property, as yours completely, then I consent to everything. All of it. But this has to be what you want, not just what you think I want."

Morgan's hand trembles more violently against your knee. They pull back slightly, looking between you and Dr. Tanaka's tablet displaying the psychological modification parameters.

"I..." Morgan starts, then stops. Their breathing has quickened. "Jordan, you're talking about erasing part of yourself. Your ability to say no to me. Ever."

"I know what I'm asking for," you reply. "But I need you to want it. To choose it. This only works if you want me that way."

Dr. Tanaka remains professionally silent, her enhanced features unreadable, but she's watching Morgan carefully.

Morgan stands up from the couch, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the San Francisco Bay. The afternoon light catches the age spots on their hands, the loose skin at their neck. They're quiet for almost a full minute.

When they turn back, there's something new in their expression—a hunger you've seen before in private moments, but never this naked, this bold.

"Yes," Morgan says, voice stronger now. "I want it. God help me, Jordan, but yes. The thought of you needing me like that, needing my approval like oxygen..." They laugh, but it's shaky. "I've spent seventy-three years being accommodating, being supportive, letting other people lead. And you're offering me... everything."

They walk back to you, kneeling down so their face is level with yours. "I want you as mine. Completely mine. I want to be the angel you designed, and I want you **** for me. I want to own you." Their voice drops to a whisper. "Is that terrible?"

"It's honest," you say.

Morgan turns to Dr. Tanaka. "We both consent. All the modifications. Everything Jordan designed."

Dr. Tanaka nods once, making notes on her tablet. "Verbal consent recorded and logged. I'll need you both to provide biometric confirmation—place your hands on the tablet."

You both comply, pressing your aged hands against the smooth surface. The device chirps twice.

"Confirmed," Dr. Tanaka says. "The nanite preparation will take approximately forty-five minutes. During that time, you'll both need to fast—no food or water. The transformation itself takes six hours. You'll be **** throughout. When you wake up, you'll be exactly what's been specified here." She looks at you both. "Any final questions before we begin preparation?"

Morgan squeezes your hand, their eyes bright with something between terror and exhilaration.