What should I call you?
Added 2022-03-03 17:45:42 +0000 UTCYour night at the bar takes a strange turn.
* * *
The bar was quiet. In a dark corner, you and the newcomer sat, cloistered away, speaking in hushed tones. “What’s should I call you, sweetie?” They asked. You told them your name, and they smiled. “No, sweetie. I asked what I should call you, not what your name is.”
You looked at them, confused. Something was making it so hard to think. And so easy to listen. Their finger gently traced down your cheek. “Awh, sweetie. I think I should call you… Toy. Does that sound good to you?” You nodded, and they nodded. Or did they nod first? You couldn’t tell.
But you were smiling. It did feel good to be called toy. So you kept nodding. “Awh, it feels good, doesn’t it? Such a good toy for me.” They leant forwards, and you found yourself looking into their eyes. Your brain had slowed to a crawl. But that didn’t matter.
You didn’t need to think. You knew that. Not when your new dominant – that wasn’t the word you had meant to think, but it felt right to think it – could think for you. You were their toy. Weren’t you? Nodding you head along to their words. To their thoughts. Good toy.
