Speaking of, he still hasn’t joined us. Usually by now he’s made his way in, at least to lie on the bed and watch us, reach out and touch us, or kiss us.
That he’s still not joining us means he really feels Owen needs this time with me right now, and even greater shame fills me.
Our boy isn’t complicated. He’s really not. I quickly learned from Carter not to take Owen for granted, or carelessly let words fly. To immediately recognize and take ownership of any unintended and stinging verbal barbs, and to apologize, love the hurt away.
I’m sure I’ll be punished by Carter at some future point for this.
Not right now.
Not around Owen.
He never punishes me for these kinds of infractions in front of Owen, and rightfully so. Whenever Carter feels I’ve done something against Owen worthy of punishment, he makes sure I make it right with Owenfirst, and later evens the score in private with me. Otherwise, Owen will feel guilty for me incurring punishment on his behalf.
We also never tell Owen about those times. That is completely between me and Carter. Owen doesn’t even know about that particularly strict set of rules I agreed to.
There is no converse to that, either—no consequences for Owen for violating any rules against me in that way.
Owen never does, never has.
Hetrulyis our good boy.
Even if he did, one of the secret rules I agreed to back then, before Carter married me, was that there are some permanent inequalities in our relationship.
Owenalwayscomes first, forbothof us, because he doesn’t get legal recognition the way we do as a married couple.
Because his mother was a fucking cunt and abused him.
Because he’s a sweet, gentle soul who doesn’t have the stable foundation Carter and I did growing up.
I wouldn’t be here if I thought it was unfair—it’s completely fair and voluntary, on my part.
Sure, we’ve “funished” Owen countless times. Not to mention he’s endured the sadist’s amusement ever since we started doing this. But Carter was adamant about that with me at the start. One of his ironclad rules for me was that Owen could never be “punished.”
Ever.
Talked to, gentle corrections, sure. And Owen does have rules and consequences. But they’resetrules withsetconsequences that Owen not only expects but in his own way welcomes, because he knows it means we’re paying attention. They’re also consequences heagreesto.
If today had been reversed and Owen let loose with an outburst and drew me in like that? No way would Carter have punished him for it, even though Carter and I both know Owen would expect punishment.
Owen trusts us, because Carter was careful and smart in the beginning. Carter took the time to learn our boy inside and out, including the bullshit Owen’s mother put him through as a kid.
The first time I accidentally ran afoul of that rule, Carter nearly called an end to our relationship as a whole and walked out with Owen right there, although Owen will never know that.
Again, that’s between me and Carter. It was the first time I truly realized how much Carter loves Owen and has devoted his life to him.
It’s one of the reasons I fell so hard for Carter and knew I could spend the rest of my life with him. Because devotion like that doesn’t come cheap.
It’s only wrenched from the bottom of a person’s soul, and is sometimes carved out of their flesh.
And Carter has already survived both extremes more than once.
Chapter Eight
Even when making love, my men have different “feels.” They could both do the exact same thing to me, and a different emotional painting takes shape.
If it’s only Carter and me making love like this, as equals and without any sadism involved, Carter stills wears a thick shell with me. He can’t help it. I’m not even sure if he realizes he does it. It’s a shell I’ve seen disappear when he makes loves to Owen, though. Maybe he feels Owen is physically stronger than me and better able to hold Carter’s demons in check, I don’t know.
It’s not a feeling of alackof love when Carter’s with me, though. It’s like there’s an openness and vulnerability in the way he makes love to Owen that’s not present with me. I’m positive it’s an indescribable, intangible artifact left over from trauma Carter suffered long before we met, one which he refuses to discuss in anything but vague hints.
