What's the Matter with Megan? – Chapter 4 (Commission)

Thanks to Samantha for suggesting and commissioning this latest chapter!

***

Come on, girl. It can't be that hard! It's a legitimate question, after all. It's about making sure you know what's going on. It's about checking to make sure Megan's being safe – that there isn't something weird going on…

And then I finally say it – speaking out into the silence of our little living room. "So, umm… Anya?"

"Yeah?" She's not even looking at me. With her dyed black head bent low, she's clearly more interested in her biology midterm prep questions than in my hesitant question. "I didn't steal your boba, if that's what you're about to ask. Check with Megan on that one."

"No, no," I stammer, my hands clenching on the chair back as I try to control my awkward nerves. "No, it's not about that! I just- I had a question. A, um… a relationship question."

Oh, that gets her to raise her head. "Wait, what? You think I'm some kind of relationship expert?" She gives a little snort, but it's not completely unkind. "I mean… shoot, I guess? But don't blame me if you don't like what I say. I'm not too good with people…"

"No, no, it's fine!" I assure her, and now that I'm in too deep to back out, the words pour out. "It's just that, um, I was like, wondering. See, I've heard someone – um, a friend of mine – saying she wants to try something with her boyfriend. Something kinda… I dunno… strange."

I pause to catch my shaky breath, but Anya's already eyeing me in what seems to be amusement. "Oh, a friend of yours? Um-hmm, sure. Go on." Which, of course, I do – even though I get the feeling she doesn't quite believe me. "She was saying… um, well. Let me ask this way. Have you ever heard of someone – a girl, I mean – calling their, um, boyfriend… um, 'Daddy'?"

The bark of laughter that escapes Anya's lips catches me by surprise.

"Oh, you sweet summer child," she chuckles, and again, somehow I don't get the feeling that she means to be hurtful about it. "Natalie, so you're saying you think calling your boyfriend 'Daddy' is weird?" "I- um, well, I, I dunno?" I flounder, beginning to feel more than a bit out of my depth. "It's not exactly- I mean, I've never even-"

"Girl, you do you,"Anya cuts in, and now she's regarding me with more heavy-lidded, frank attention than I've ever gotten from her before. "Listen. Nobody cares if you call your boyfriend Daddy or Uncle or Grandpa or Baby or whatever. Call 'em Senpai if you want – or Teacher, or fuck-bunny, or pathetic little slut. As long as they like it and they're an adult, what's the big deal?"

"I mean, it's not me," I maintain lamely, but she merely responds with a wave of her hand. "Oh, sure – of course not. It's your friend, right? Whatever the case, sounds to me like you're making way too much of it. People can call their partners whatever they want. And if you want to play at letting your 'Daddy' take charge and order you to do all kinds of kinky shit… well, why not?"

"Wait… 'kinky'?"

"Yeah. Kinky," she returns, and she's shaking her head in quiet amusement. "Look, don't expect me to give you a whole sex-ed intro to BDSM, girl. All I'm saying is that calling someone 'Daddy' is nothing compared to, I dunno – whips and bondage and stuff. And if a cute name and a bit of roleplay is all you want, cool. But there's a heck of a lot more you could do. I mean, some of that stuff can be a real rush…"

"It's not me, remember!" I'm practically beet-red with embarrassment, and I'm desperately hoping that Anya finally gets the point. "And my friend wouldn't want anything that- that-" "That fun?" Anya retorts with a smirk. "Well, how do you know? Like I said, you do you – or let her do her. And if you're asking because you're worried it might be weird… I mean, fuck me! There's a hell of a lot more weird and edgy shit than just roleplaying and calling your boyfriend Daddy…"

Well, at that all I can do is blush… and scuttle sheepishly away to my room.

Edgy… kinky… BDSM… whips and bondage… Ugh,I know Anya meant well – but the words and phrases she dropped so casually aren't exactly helping me feel better. So as I gaze out our bedroom window into the late afternoon light, I find myself worrying about Megan not less, but more. Is Megan actually secretly… kinky? I've never known anyone who called their boyfriend that, after all. Surely she's not… letting Dan tie her up? Whip her? Ugh, I don't even- I can't-

Although… he does seem pretty authoritative. And I guess even I think the idea of a guy being all assertive is super hot…

Frick it all – stop it!, I tell myself, not for the last time. Just keep it together and ask Megan when she gets back. You gotta make sure she's being safe! It's not about my curiosity, honest. It's all just to keep her safe… make sure she's not being hurt…

***

"So… how was it?"

Megan pauses by her little dresser, her pastel bundle of pajamas in one hand and an expression of shy surprise blossoming on her face. "Um… what? Studying with Dan? It was fine."

"Just… fine?" I'm fishing, clearly – but she's my bestie, and I know she won't mind. "Come on, give me more than that, girl!" And then, on a sudden whim, I plunge ahead in reckless abandon, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin. "What kind of fun did you have with your 'Daddy,' huh?"

Oh, the look on Megan's face is priceless!

"Wha- but- what do you mean? I- what did you call-" She's stammering, trying her very best to feign ignorance – but she's never been the best at lying, and we both know it. "Hey, no need to pretend," I cut in with a wry smile. "Listen, it's okay. I know you two are having fun with something like that, aren't you? I just want you to tell me if anything bad is going on…"

"But- but how did you know?" She's stammering, blushing, shifting uneasily from foot to foot – and somehow the image that comes to my mind isn't that of my best friend talking about her boyfriend, but a little kid who's been caught with their pudgy hand in the cookie jar. "I- it's nothing bad, I promise! It- I…"

"Come here," I offer, patting the bed beside me, and she gulps and shuffles over to settle down gingerly. "It's okay," I repeat now, and chuckle a little at her mortified expression. "You, um… you were talking in your sleep this morning."

"Oh…" But the look on her suddenly pale face is saying something more like Oh god oh shit oh fuck!!!  "Yeah," I continue, wanting to ease her panic. "Don't worry, it wasn't anything bad! You just muttered out 'Daddy,' and… well, I thought you might have meant Dan. I don't think I've ever heard you call your dad that, after all…"

"No…" she trails off, biting her lip and squirming silently in place. Then, after a short pause, she breaks silence. "Okay, I get it. It's kinda weird. But yeah, sometimes I do call him that." She pauses again, and for once I have the good sense to keep my mouth shut and wait for the rest. "I guess because… I dunno. He does things sometimes that make me feel… umm… Kinda safe, and loved. And…" Her voice sinks lower still – so low I have to bend closer to catch it. "…Kinda small…"

"'Small'? Like… how?"

But she's already slipping up from the bed, darting to the door and out to the bathroom. From down the hall I hear the bathroom door slam hurriedly shut… and I know that I'm not going to get any more out of her. At least, not tonight.

Well, thank goodness it's like I thought. Anya may have been talking about whips and crazy stuff like that – but honestly, I know better now. There's no way Megan would ever do such far-out stuff – not when just admitting that she calls Dan 'Daddy' now and then practically makes her melt into a humiliated puddle. No, she's fine. No way on earth she's into anything more freaky or unsafe than that.

Hmm… now what did she say? 'Small'?

It's a funny choice of words, but now that she's said it, I can almost see why. She is kinda short, especially compared with Dan. And he is pretty damned hunky. That voice of his is super deep and manly, and the way he looks down at her isn't entirely unlike… I dunno… a guy looking down at his little kid…

And then, before I laugh off my absurd and vaguely uncomfortable thoughts, it finally hits me: what Megan actually reminded me of just now. Squirming… bounding up off the bed like a jackrabbit… running for the bathroom…

Yep, just like a little kid about to pee her pants. Now that's a funny analogy!

Anyway, it's high time I quit worrying about all of this Megan stuff and got back to prepping for these awful midterms. Exams won't take themselves, right? And so I reach for my textbook and laptop, heaving a sigh and flipping back to the dreaded calculus that's been giving such a hard time. Time to run through these equations a few more times.

But all the while, my dumb brain is still mulling over those words. Hmm… Safe. Loved. Small…

(To be continued!)