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Oh, that was news.
“Uncle Cohen?” I stopped him as we got to the living room. I had to tell him so he could be excited for Emerson too. “You have to say congratulations to Emerson. He got fucked.”
Congratulations.
That was a very good word.
Con-grat-u-lation.
It would be an even better word if it was easier to spell.
“Why are all the good words hard to spell, Uncle Cohen?” He was so smart he didn’t even rush to give me an answer.
“So we don’t overuse them.” Then he kissed my forehead as everyone was awestruck by his magnificence.
Magnificence.
That was—
“That’s so smart.” Emerson sat up from where he’d been stretched out on the floor. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Probably because he was naked.
That made it hard to think.
“Hello, Emerson.” Uncle Cohen sighed and said something about little Emerson saying hello back, but Emerson wasn’t little, so I thought he must be teasing.
“Hi, Uncle Cohen.” He sat up and smiled soooo big. “Did you hear? Master said I could call him Master and he fucked me.”
I leaned into Uncle Cohen’s shoulder as he sighed. “I know. It’s very romantic.”
“Yes.” Uncle Cohen took a breath as he looked at what we’d accomplished.
Accomplished.
That was a good word too—
“That’s a very good way to describe it, cutie.” Uncle Cohen was so nice. I started to tell him that and what a good word accomplished was, but he pointed to the floor and I forgot. “What are you guys doing?”
“Having slushies.” Lane was very helpful.
“Telling them about how wonderful my Master is.” Emerson was back to smiling goofily again. “But he’s going to be my Owner, but I’m going to call him Master because he said calling him Owner was weird.”
Uncle Cohen coughed and coughed, but then he was okay and was very polite to Emerson. “I think Master is a very good title for an owner.”
“He’s going to be a very good owner.” Emerson was excited, but that was because he really liked saying the word owner.
He thought it was such a good word it made his dick jump.
Hmm, wasn’t he supposed to have clothes on?
That might’ve been a rule, but I forgot.
“Where’s Kenton?” Uncle Cohen frowned and then tried to look under the couch. “Did you guys tie him up this time?”
Lane thought that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, but I wasn’t sure where Kenton had gone…had we lost him?
Looking under the couch sounded like a good idea. Kenton was small. He could fit. “Kenton, come out. You’re scaring Uncle Cohen.”
“We don’t do that.” Emerson was very helpful. “He’s hot.”
“He really is.” Somehow I ended up on the floor, but Uncle Cohen helped me up. “He’s very polite too. He helped me up. Does your owner help you up?”
Wait.
What had I been doing?
“I don’t remember falling.” Emerson frowned and cocked his head. “I think he would help me up, but I should ask.”
As he scrambled off to find his phone, I remembered what I’d been doing. “Kenton.”
He’d been in the bathroom.
He’d gone to the potty.
He’d hit the head.
“Uncle Cohen?” As Kenton came out of the powder room, that was a good name too, I looked at my smart Dom. “Why are there so many words for bathroom?”
He was so polite he was looking at all of us and it took him a second before he could focus on me. “The bathroom? I think because we use words that come from a variety of languages?”
Oh.
“Did you know moose and goose aren’t from the same place?” I was so excited when he frowned and shook his head. “They were words that were born in different places. Words are fun.”
There was a bigger word for words being born in different places but I couldn’t find it.
It was lost like Kenton had been.
“Somehow, I don’t think you’d have shared that if you were sober.” Uncle Cohen smiled before I could figure out what he’d meant, and then I forgot because he was so sweet and gave me a hug. “Now that we have everyone, why don’t show me what you were doing?”
“Finding Kenton?” He was wearing clothes too, so I was really proud of him. “His Dom said he had to keep his clothes on. He had more rules, but I think I forgot them?”
We should really write things down.
Uncle Cohen snorted. “I bet he did. But no, cutie, I meant your craft project?”
“Oh.” Why hadn’t he said that? Taking his hand, I pulled him around the coffee table, not bumping into the drinks or zooming. “We’re making a game.”
It was going to be beautiful.
“Okay, now your questions make sense.” Uncle Cohen turned his head and really studied our wonderful game. “How about you explain a few things to me, though? Besides world domination and candy, what’s the goal?”
Oh, he asked such good questions.
Everyone nodded and even Lane seemed to know how special he was.
