The Button, Chapter 7 - Of Toys and Tempers
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The next morning, Yana woke slowly.  It was the first day of the
weekend, and she loathed wasting a chance to sleep in - at least a
little.  As she lay abed, half-awake, she tried to figure out just why
she felt so good.

She'd had a very restful night, she figured.  Not interrupted by
snoring, as was so often the case.  Frowning, she looked over to
Darryl's side of the bed, trying to remember why he wasn't there...
perhaps he was off to meet an author?  Her eyes focussed on the dildo
sitting on his pillow, and Yana blushed to think of the fun she'd had
with it.

It wasn't until she'd washed it off and was putting the dildo into her
panty drawer that she really woke up enough to remember how she'd used
the magic button to transform her fiancé, Darryl, into a toy.  She
closed the drawer, anyway...  "He's kinky enough to enjoy that, I bet,"
she muttered to herself.

A smile crossed her lips as she thought further back, remembering being
an inflatable toy, teased by Darryl mercilessly.  "Maybe it's my turn
again..." But as she picked up her transformed sweetie, just before she
was to pluck the button off, she suddenly remembered *why* she had given
herself an inflatable chest.  Darryl's betrayal fired her anger, and
with a wordless shout she thrust him into the drawer again, and slammed
it shut.

"And you can rot in there for all I care!"  Yana stormed downstairs, and
into the kitchen.

* * *

After making herself a fancy breakfast, and stewing over tea... Yana
still felt as angry as ever.  What she had come to realize, though, was
just how lucky she had been.  Darryl hadn't heard her latest outburst.

As the consequences of that thought dawned upon her, she marched herself
back upstairs, and yanked him out of the drawer.  She then launched into
a long, detailed, and abusive tirade at the inoffensive bit of pink
rubber, calling him every name she could think of, staring in English
and working her way through several other Romance languages, including a
few that she herself didn't really recognize.

Later, she couldn't say just what made her do it... the frustration,
perhaps. Frustration, and some indefinable yearning, led her to jam her
transformed lover up into herself.  While it hurt a bit, it also felt
rather good... and she didn't stop until she had utterly exhausted
herself.

Afterward, she felt quite a bit better.  The two hour nap might have
been a factor.

When she woke, she carefully cleaned her new toy, and considered
releasing Darryl.  Contemplating seeing him whole, however, just
reminded her of his betrayal - she could see him staring past her again.
She dropped him in the drawer, and slammed it shut, this time without
quite so much yelling.

The cycle repeated itself twice more on Saturday, before Yana finally
dropped off into a troubled sleep.

* * *

Yana woke a bit more cautiously on Sunday.  Her gut feeling that
something was wrong got her through her initial fuzzyheadedness, and
into her first cup of tea.  She sat at the breakfast table for a very
long time, long enough for three successive cups of tea to be brewed and
go cold.

This time, she tried talking to him.  Before restoring him, of course.
She had a lot to think about, and a lot to say.  It started with
apologies, but somehow... it just couldn't quite stay that way.  It
ended with yelling, which led to self-gratification...  This time, Yana
kept herself more or less under control.

As she regretfully put Darryl back into the drawer that was becoming his
new home, she shook her head and sighed.  "I'm sorry, sweetie.  I'm just
not ready to face you yet.  Trust me, it's for the best..."

* * *

Yana stayed away from the bedroom for the entire afternoon.  By
dinnertime, she was actually feeling somewhat at peace with the world.
Of course, that was when the phone rang.

"Aunt Bea!  How lovely..."  Yana felt tension tighten her jaw.

"No, Darryl's can't come to the phone, he's a bit..."

Yana sighed, admitting defeat on one point.  "Yes, you're right, it's
the button again.  We, uh..."

"No!  No, don't come over, I can handle it."  Yana blushed beet red at
the thought of Darryl's sweet old aunt seeing what she'd made of him.

"Now?  But...  Right.  Uh... please hold."

Defeated by that iron voice, Yana made her way upstairs.  She fetched
Darryl out of the drawer, and plucked the button away before she could
think it through twice.

She was expecting him to be a bit catatonic like the last time he'd been
stuck for a day.  She was *not* expecting him to be hard as a rock and
bucking in an obvious paroxysm of pleasure.

Gritting her teeth, Yana waited until Darryl was coherent again.  "You.
Answer the phone - Aunt Bea insists.  And when you're done... clean up
this mess!"  She stormed back downstairs, and back to the downstairs
phone.  Just before slamming it into its cradle, she heard the crackle
of Aunt Bea's voice... and listened.

"Are you sure you will be all right, dear?  That sounds rather shocking."

"I'm *fine* Auntie.  Really.  We just had a bit of an... argument."

Yana could almost hear the frown over the line as Aunt Bea replied, "Be
careful, dear.  Using magic in anger is fraught with danger.  Especially
something that is already so powerful."

"It's OK, Auntie.  I'll tell Yana, and we'll put it away.  Everything
will be fine.  Look, I better go talk to Yana.  I'll call you next week,
for sure this time."

Yana put the phone down, and stormed upstairs, no longer caring if her
eavesdropping was discovered.

Darryl looked up at her as the door banged open.  "What?"

"We are *not* OK."

"But..."

"You told her too much.  What was she doing calling, anyway?  She ruined
everything!"

"She was just trying..."

"Trying indeed!  But that's not the worst.  No.  Not by half.  You had
to go and *enjoy* it, didn't you?  Well... not this time!"

Yana snatched the button off the bed, and lashed out at Darryl with it.

The... thing she had created creaked and crackled ominously as she
picked it up, and it hurt her hand even to touch it.  Not just the
cruelly-sharp spines, she could feel the wrongness of it in her bones, a
throbbing ache.

Darryl stared over at the thing that had once been his pillow, glad he'd
managed to dodge Yana's wild swing.  "You wanted to turn me into...
*that*?"  His voice quavered slightly.  Trying to joke, he added, "I
knew you were kinky, but I didn't think..."

Yana finally snapped out of her trance.  "No!  I just... a toy, like
before. But," she sniffed, "I wanted it to hurt."

Darryl shuddered.  "I'm sure it would have.  Why?"

"You *hurt* me - made me feel," she sobbed softly, then whispered,
"ugly."

"That," he pointed at the broken, black... thing, "seems a bit extreme."

Yana nodded vigorously.  "It's not what I wanted.  That's what my anger
did."

"Your anger?"

"I needed to take my anger out on something.  When you were a toy, I
could without hurting you... or us.  It was working... until *she*
called."

"Interrupting."

"And you were *enjoying* it!"

Darryl sighed.  "Be fair, Yana.  How could I *not*, considering what you
were doing with me?"

Yana blushed, and looked down.  The moment stretched out into silence.
A silence that Darryl recognized as quickly becoming deadly.  But what
could he do?

"How long?"

Yana blinked at him, tearing her gaze from the button-formed thing.
"Sorry?"

"You're not done.  How long do you need?"

"Need?"  Yana's puzzled look almost made him laugh.

"Need me to be a toy."

Yana stared off into the distance for a few moments.  "I... a couple of
days. Probably not more than... a week?"

Darryl picked up the bedroom phone and started dialing.

"Who?"

"Work.  To tell them I won't be in for a week."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that.  They owe me so much vacation time, Carolyn's been
urging me to take some for a while now."

Yana's look was suddenly speculative.  "Really... well now."

"Oh dear."  Darryl was grinning, though.

* * *

Message sent, and button very delicately retrieved, Darryl stood before
Yana, both staring at the button in her hand.

"So.  Ready?"

Yana nodded.  "You?"

Darryl took a deep breath, exhaled.  "I think so."

"Only think so?"

"Are you still mad at me?"

Yana paused to turn that over in her mind.  "Yes."

Darryl held out his hand, palm up.  "Then you can't be the one that does
it."

Yana very carefully dropped the button into Darryl's palm, her hand
shaking a little.  Darryl could see the anger welling in her eyes.  "Do
it... please?"

Darryl hesitated a moment, button inches from his bare chest.  "You...
will turn me back?"

Yana's voice was tight with the anger she could barely hold in check.
"Please!"

Darryl whispered, "Oh God," and pressed the button home.