Our pet.
Hey, Owen himself came up with that label, and it privately makes both me and Carter giggle in good ways.
If only he knew.
Carter and I were raised differently than Owen, even if our adult experiences differed drastically from each other. Carter was raised standing up for himself as the little brother. I was raised to be independent and speak my mind by parents who reveled in my stubborn streak, my tenacity, my unique personality.
Owen, not so much.
Itotallyget why Carter wants to use the house for Owen’s birthday weekend, and why he prefers that I’m not there, although I wish I could be a fly on the wall. Carter’s afraid Owen won’t fully open up around me for fear of me rejecting him.
Carter is a genius, and, once again, my confidence in him is affirmed.
“So what now?” I ask when he finishes.
“Birthday weekend.” A slow smile fills his face. “I’m going to bring things to a head and shift him into full-on formal sub mode.”
“How are you going to do that?”
His smile widens. “Emotional lubrication.”
“So, getting him drunk, then, I take it?”
He snorts. “Fuckyeah, getting him drunk.” He glances through the sliders to make sure Owen’s still asleep before pulling me in for a long hug. Carter relaxes a little more with me in private now, as if his trust is building in me, too. “I’m glad you don’t think I’m evil.”
“Oh, you’re evil, but we’re the same kind of evil. Thegoodkind of evil.”
His chuckle rumbles through me. “Yeah, true.”
* * * *
Well, I almost fuck everything up. Fortunately, Carter doesn’t ding me for it later. What happens is that Carter is too busy and focused on Owen during Owen’s birthday weekend to do much texting with me. Sunday, when I tell Carter I’m on my way home from Tallahassee, he texts me back and asks me to play along following my arrival.
I hope that means a breakthrough, because Carter also decided a few weeks ago that he wasn’t going to fuck me unless or until we get Owen over the hump into full-on formal submissive status. We do nearly everything elsebutthat.
So yes, I have a vested personal interest in this beyond the obvious.
Sue me.
When I arrive home, Carter and Owen start telling me about their weekend. I sense a change in Owen, a good one. He acts nervous, yes, but he also seems to possess a more relaxed vibe.
And I spot the collar around his neck, the lock peeking out the back, even though it’s hidden under his shirt, until they show it to me.
It’s after we finish getting dinner ready, and it’s in the oven, where I nearly fuck it all up.
We’re sitting on the couch, and Owen’s going to kneel for me and show me positions.
Keep in mind, these are positions I already know by heart.
Thank god Owen is nervous, because although they haven’t told me the position names yet, without thinking, I ask him to kneel inAt Ease.
D’oh.
Carter starts talking to me, telling me about the position, then leads Owen into the next one. Only once Owen’s down inDevotiondoes Carter give me one of his infamous smirks.
“Sorry, Sir,” I silently mouth to him.
But all is forgiven, and he indicates for me to rub Owen’s head and talk to him.
