3: A change of Costume.
There is a show on Television called "Lie to me" Its premise involves how a few people can literally read the micro-expressions(essentially your emotions before you can stop them from being displayed) on your face and tell when your lying. Anger, rage, jealousy, nervousness, are but a few. This is relevant, if only so you can understand what I mean when I say that in under a minute, her face went through every expression seen on the show, and about a dozen that haven't been.
This is not to say I was capable of processing what I saw, and figuring out(more-a-less) how she felt. It is however important to say how widely and quickly her emotions ran the gauntlet before her emotional brawl had a clear and decisive winner. Adamant. There was no way in hell I was talking her out like this, it was far too revealing, we never even discussed it, and things of this nature. I refrained from rolling my eyes, but this too was (if not normal) a foreseen outcome, all things considered.
As she continued dressing me down, I took advantage of the fact that I was mobile and she was not. Stepping around behind her, I made for the toy chest and proceeded to rummage. Props can be important, their a core tool in showmanship, you see them all the time in movies and television shows for the simple, eloquent reason that they vastly help us suspend disbelief. Who would believe that a group of intrepid adventurers can visit alien planets when said alien plants have apple trees. Paint a pineapple neon blue however, and add some spinney protrusions, and suddenly the aliens fruit bowl does indeed seem alien.
But back to the matter at hand, When I arrived in front of her again, I had a ball gag in hand, and an expression that seemed rock like in both its solidity and un-malleability. "Knock. It. Off." I enunciated each word with far more vigor than was needed, this was one of my traits when I grew fed up with something, and regardless of any desire, to or avoid-having-to, gag her, the presence of the instrument to do it made the difference.
Humans like choices, there is a key fact between every presentation ever given be it 'Do X or die.' or 'Red pill? Blue pill?' at times it seems the choice is almost immaterial, but provided we have one, we're happier for it. Admit it 'Do X and I won't kill you.' Doesn't have the same ring to it, we like our choices. People want to choose even if its no choice at all. In those cases, most of the time, the logical option will be taken unless the choice maker has a specific vested interest in thwarting the person giving the choice.
The rebel leader may tell a tyrant where to shove his choice of 'tell us about your friends, or die'. This is invariably a product of emotional involvement, and a desire to make things more difficult. In that particular example, its also the choice of an idiot. Far better would be to play along, and "betray" the rebel operatives inside the tyrant organization. This does not mean you have to tell the tyrant the truth, but it is better to have the momentary gratification of telling him off, or to arrange for him to torture and (likely) kill two or more of his loyal capable operatives?
It's a losing game no doubt, but it can be much better to lose on your own terms than to think you are powerless and do something stupid because its all you think you can do. When I gave Fucktoy the choice "Hush, or I will hush you." she glared with the intent to kill, and while her mouth remained silent, her eyes said all her mouth could, and far more besides. "Good girl." I leaned in to kiss her, she had the good sense not to turn her head or try to stop me, but neither did she part her lips, and engage me either. I repressed a sigh and put the energy to better use.
Namely, walking around behind her, while I spoke. "You know I'm not dense enough to plan on any given plan simply working," I rummaged more, she turned her head to the side, trying(with poor success) to see me, and keeping her ear turned my way to listen. "Fools, as they say, rush in. You had to realize I had an alternate plan or two," I came up with the skirt I had carefully stashed down here earlier, and a roll of duct tape. "So why the fuss lover? What did you think you would possibly achieve by annoying me for the effort I put into this?" She said nothing, and I was already walking around her to hold up the skirt and tape. Her eyes widened a bit, but she remained silent. That was what it took for me to guess her game, she was still hushing, pointedly waiting for me to tell her she could speak.
It was petty, pointless, and somehow still adorable. It did not however, cause me to play her game, and I simply shrugged, "Right, that's what I thought." I knelt down and loosened the cord that ran through the tie down points to her ankle cuffs. I took a moment then to rise and show her her the skirt. You've seen the sort before, a pleated skirt, probably in a wretched plaid material, in the time honored "Catholic schoolgirl" fantasy.