“Yes, Sir.”
He cocks his head. “Don’t want to ask me why?”
“Does it matter, Sir?”
His gaze narrows and hints of a smile curve his lips. “You’re really learning fast, aren’t you, boy?”
“I hope so, Sir.”
“Primed is forme. You’re completely open to me, exposed, vulnerable, ready. It means you trust me, you’re submitting to me in any way I choose, and you understand you’re under my control.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He leans forward and rubs my head. “Good boy. Go take out the butt plug, wash and dry it, and put it with your things, along with the leather cuffs and collar. Day collar stays on. Same T-shirt and shorts you wore yesterday. Everything else can go in the car, except for our computers and books and stuff. Make sure her bed is made like I’ve taught you. Then patrol the house, go through and empty all the garbage cans into a garbage bag, and put it in the bin in the garage. Make sure we haven’t overlooked anything. There should be no trace of what we’ve been doing, except for my marks on your flesh and your day collar.”
“Yes, Sir.” I go to do as I’m told and realize that my life has not only shifted completely off its foundation since Friday night…
It’s now sitting atop a far more stable one.
* * * *
I manage to get some studying done. Not a lot, but Carter and his nearly perfect memory would put anyone to shame, so I try not to feel badly about that.
The rest of me feels…
Amazing.
Nervous as hell awaiting Susa’s return, though.
She’s texted both of us that she’s less than twenty minutes away and is stopping for gas. Carter puts me on the floor in Loyalty one last time, right in front of the couch, where he can sit there with his hand on my bowed head.
“I want you to address Susa as ‘ma’am’ from now on, boy. Understand?”
More fear fills me, but I tamp it back. “Yes, Sir.”
“And you follow my lead.”
Now, Iknow. This talk will happentonight, and it terrifies the fuck out of me.
“Devotion.”
Without thinking, I bring my knees together and roll my back, breathing out, clearing my mind as I bow.
His hand remains on my head, moving with me.
When Carter next speaks, his voice sounds deeper, stronger, and he grips my hair firmly, in control. “Do you trust me, boy?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do youreallywant to be owned by me?”
I swallow hard. “Yes, Sir.” In less than forty-eight hours, I’ve hard-shifted completely to the position that the thought ofnotbeing owned by Carter terrifies me.
He makes a soft, painedoomphas he gets off the couch and lowers himself to the floor. He presses his face against the right side of my head, his lips by my ear.
“I swear to you I willneverlet you fall, boy. If I am alive, Iwillcatch you.Always. No matter what we do, no matter what happens,neverforget that.”
I struggle not to cry,again, especially so close to Susa’s return. Before Carter, I was a master at masking my emotions.
