“Thank you, Sir.”
He makes me look him in the eyes. He does this sometimes, forcing me to meet his gaze and not letting me go until I have. More conditioning, more acclimating me to intimacy.
Not allowing me to escape the hard work.
I love him for it, too. Maybe this is why we were destined to meet, so I can become a better person with him, and with Susa, in my life.
We sit there like that for at least a minute. “You don’t even have to put on the tether today, if you don’t want to. Or your cuffs and collar. Not until tonight.”
I nod. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
He drops one more kiss on the top of my head before he heads out again. I still strip, because as Carter warned me, it feels weird to be dressed now when I’m behind closed doors. Plus, bonus, it saves on laundry.
As I lie there and channel surf, despite my exhaustion I can’t get comfortable. Something’s…missing.
Finally, after about fifteen minutes, I dig the tether out of the storage tub and connect it to the leg of my bed. I don the leather collar, cuffs, and attach the tether to my right ankle.
Peace settles over me, and I find myself quickly dozing off, the TV softly playing on, unwatched.
Chapter Thirty
The addition of Susa to what Carter and I have only makes it better. I start to relax even as I’m learning new things, and Carter adds more protocols and rituals to our daily routine. I lay out his clothes for him. When we’re together, I wait for permission from him—or Susa, if Carter’s not there—to eat. I end up sleeping in his bed more often than not now because of his nightmares. It’s a tight fit, but to be honest, I’ve found I sleep better like that, too.
When Carter suggests maybe removing the tether requirement except for at night, I unexpectedly burst into tears that he comforts me through before quietly telling me the rule can stay in place.
I know it’s weird, but I like it. I like the tangible connection to Carter, and Susa, by extension.
The day collar hasn’t been off for more than a few hours here and there. He checks the lock every day, though, and bought a small bottle of 3-in-1 oil to make sure the lock doesn’t freeze up from going through a shower or two every day.
Nearly two weeks after the revised new world order has taken effect with Susa added to the mix, another impact jars my bubble of contentment, courtesy of Carter.
Keep in mind that, while I’ve conversed some with my father via Facebook Messenger, I haven’t seen the man in over ten years. Since after the divorce, since he moved to Las Vegas.
Since he got a new family.
I also have no contact with any family on his side. His parents died when I was little. He has a couple of brothers and sisters, and I apparently have cousins aplenty, some of whom even live in Florida, but fuck if I know any of them.
Thanks, Mom.
Dad’s first marriage lasted less than a year and they had no kids. Then he met Mom and, a few years later, they had me.
Then they imploded in a way that made the Hindenburg disaster look like a dry fart.
Hi, haha, your first family was fucked up—mulligan! Hit your save point and respawn, motherfucker.
Oh, your oldest son? Don’t worry about him. We gave him a—checks note just handed in—wait, sorry. Our bad. Your ex is a totally vengeful narcissist. Honestly? It’s too late for him, now. Save yourself while you can.
Because of course there are plenty ofwhy didn’t he take me with himthoughts to spare in my cranium.
Why didn’t he fight harder for me?
Logically, I know that he was probably overwhelmed by Mom and the force of…her. God knows I’ve been overwhelmed by her my whole damn life. Countless times. To the point it’s usually easier to just give in and knuckle under.
Before I met Carter, that is.
That’s why it shocks the hell out of me when Carter makes the announcement that Thursday evening that we are, in fact, flying to Las Vegas.
That not only are we flying out, we’re leaving tomorrow, Friday, right after class.
