Tell Mr. Rydell about your revelation

"Look, it's all wrong" You say to Mr. Rydell as he sits in your office across from you. He doesn't seem particularly thrilled to hear it. He's come all this way to make you an offer, and now you're telling him he's wrong.

But you know what you're talking about. And you know you wouldn't have gotten the offer if you weren't someone worth listening to.

So you explain. "I get it. The idea that every woman should choose to be a... what was it? bimbo, bad bitch or babydoll. Sure on the surface it makes sense. But what was it that our President said in his inauguration? He said the cock is going to rule. Well, making every woman into a temptress slut doesn't make the cock rule, it makes the cock subject."

Mr. Rydell cocks his head. He seems to think you have a point.

So you put all your cards on the table. You think of the girls in the bar bathroom. You think of the world you want to help create. "Each woman should decide. They should decide what kind of pet they want to be." You smile. Mr. Rydell's eyes widen. So you go on. "They can be a fuck pet. They can be a use pet. Or they can be a helper pet. You can still make them into a bimbo or a bad bitch or whatever. Once they're wearing your leash, you can make them into whatever you want."

Mr. Rydell goes a long time without answering. Then finally. "Go on."

You're so glad he asks. You've given this lots of thought in the past 24 hours. "A fuck pet is for pleasure. A fuck pet is for fucking whoever, wherever, whenever and however her master says. They'll be our most adventurous sluts. A use pet is for... just that... for use. Every society needs tables and toilets. And Helper pets well... they'll be the most special pets. They'll help keep the order, help keep the other pets in line. They'll get special privileges. They'll get to make decisions about who and how they fuck. They'll get..."

"Orgasms?" Mr. Rydell interrupts with a smile.

But you shake your head. "If every woman in this country doesn't have an orgasm the moment her collar is being fastened, then I'll have failed."

Mr. Rydell looks plenty sold. He licks his lips. "I... I..." he clears his throat. "This plan has been in the works for months. Changes will have to be approved by the President. I'll have to tell the President. Okay?"