The sound of scissors

I grabbed the trashbags and went back up to our room. I heard the sound of scissors and tearing fabric as I walked down the hall and when I came into the room I saw her sitting on the floor cutting up one of her favorite dresses. She’d looked pretty cute in it, a yellow sundress that came down to her knees, but it only suited the old Megan. She didn’t look up as I came in, but I heard a sniffle. She was crying softly as she shredded the clothes, shoulders slumped and looking defeated. My heart moved as I saw how unhappy she seemed, but I steeled myself. I couldn’t give in right now. I needed to play this out. Not risking speech, I placed the box of garbage bags on her vanity table, and went back downstairs.

Megan had a lot of clothes, and it took nearly three hours before she was finished. I set about cooking dinner, but only for me. Her punishment still awaited her. She came downstairs dragging several stuffed contractor bags full of the remains of her old life and left them by the front door. She came into he kitchen to find me eating dinner. She was wearing a thin blue bra that hugged her tits obscenely and did nothing to hide her nipples, and a pair of crotchless panties to match. Clearly she’d also shredding what she’d been wearing.

“I did it. All my old clothes are gone. There’s nothing left.”

She looked sad and empty.

“Good girl,” I said, before taking a bite of my pasta, “Have a seat”

She did so, looking for her plate. “Where’s mine?”

“You still have to have your punishment.”

She smiled in a sad but mocking way, “What, you’re sending me to bed without supper now?”

“No, you won’t be sleeping in our bed tonight. And trust me, you won’t want to have anything in your stomach for your punishment.”

She looked actually shaken by that. “What do you mean?”

“Sit, and I’ll tell you when I’m finished.”

I made her sit there and hungrily watch me eat. It was good for her. It was encouraging the way she didn’t complain, even if she clearly would like to.