Chapter Seven: The Fateful Talk
A dark cloud hung over the Thompson house from Saturday after the birthday dinner outing. The dark cloud didn't dissipate once the morning sun hit the house the next day; in fact, it thickened. It was clear to Rosina, Owen and Taryn, that nothing would be right between them until this matter was resolved. If it wasn't for Richard's presence, they would have had that talk, Saturday night. Instead the talk would have to wait until Monday evening; even then it was only a chance. For the first time in years, the family hoped that Richard would have to work late, very late. When Richard was home, no discussion could be had. None of the three of them wanted Richard to know, for fear it would shatter the family. Owen, Taryn, and Rosina avoided each other all day Sunday.
Taryn and Owen didn't do anything together Saturday night, or even Sunday. For the first time since the momentous Wednesday night, they were uncomfortable with each other. It was one thing to have their private, intimate relationship, their own private world of wicked pleasure between the two of them. It was quite another thing to have someone else, someone close to them, know about them. It was as if they now had to admit their relationship to the world, and suddenly felt uncomfortable with it. Owen and Taryn were at a loss, as during this time of tribulation, they wanted to seek comfort from each other. The irony was that it was that very comfort which was the cause of the pain they were in. Silent and irrational resentment toward Rosina grew within the minds of both Owen and Taryn.
Taryn herself took the news of Rosina's discovery much harder than Owen. She had accepted and loved the relationship with her son on one level, yet on another level she couldn't really accept it. Taryn knew that "normal mothers" did have sex with or were Slaves to their sons. Taryn hadn't completely resolved the issue within herself, so how was she to explain and defend it to another person, especially her own daughter! A part of her wanted to tell Rosina to go to hell; her relationship with Owen was none of Rosina's business. Taryn knew that a daughter had a right to understand and discuss an incestuous relationship between her mother and her brother. Taryn knew that she was lucky that her daughter hadn't told Richard yet, and was behaving so calmly about something she should be ranting and screaming about. Taryn renewed her resolve to find someway to convince Rosina about how special and wonderful her relationship with Owen was. Taryn needed Rosina to understand and accept the relationship that by all logic shouldn't exist, but did.
The one who was suffering the most of the three of them was Rosina, herself. She could feel the resentment from her brother and mother, almost as if they blamed her for the current situation. That was of little consequence to what was truly wearing on her mind. The dreams continued Saturday and Sunday nights, yet got worse and more intimate. It had changed in that as soon as Owen and Taryn finished having sex, Taryn left the room. After Rosina had sex with Owen, after they came together, Rosina cuddled up to Owen and fell asleep in his arms, feeling content and loved. When she awoke the next morning, finding that Owen wasn't there, she felt the loss, and genuinely felt incomplete.
On one hand, Rosina hoped that once she understood exactly what was going on and why that she could get past it. She hoped that once she understood everything about the relationship, it wouldn't excite her anymore. Her greatest fear was that once she actually understood what was going on, she might accept it. If she accepted it, she knew it would be a very slippery slope down to their level of depravity. Part of what she feared the most was that by the end of the talk she would wind up living out her dream, her nightmare. Rosina knew that she was taking a real risk by talking to them about it. She could feel the darkest part of herself calling out to Owen to own her, to make her, his newest Slave. That fear always made Rosina cry, for as time moved on, she felt that perhaps it was inevitable, yet she would struggle against, regardless.
Owen was borderline indifferent about the upcoming talk with Rosina. He wasn't ashamed about what he and his mother was doing, and wasn't planning to stop. Owen knew that things between he and his mother weren't normal and he didn't like the thought of explaining the relationship to anyone. He knew that he could have forced things with his mother that Sunday to have sex with her. He decided against it, out of respect for his mother's silent wishes. She could barely look at him and didn't let him touch her. Taryn only looked at him from a distance with a mournful look in her eye. Owen was quite agitated with Rosina for stirring up this trouble. Things were fine between Owen and Taryn until Rosina blurted out that she knew about them and demanded an explanation. Who did she think she was, demanding him to explain and justify what he did with his own Slave? Owen started to brood over the situation and his thoughts continued to darken as time went by. Like the other two, he just wanted this talk over and done with.
Monday was a rough day for all three, as they took little joy out of their regular routines. Owen and Rosina, learned little that day at College. Taryn found even the nicest of customers start to grate on her during her shift at the spa. Eventually the day was over and the evening ritual and routines started. Taryn made dinner as Rosina set the table while telling Taryn of her day. They talked small talk and ignored the elephant in the room, for just a little while longer. When Owen came home, he walked up to his mother and gave her, what he thought was an appropriate hug and kiss for the woman he loved. The uncomfortable stare from Rosina, made it clear that she didn't like to see any sort of intimate contact between them.
Owen wanted to start the talk during dinner, but Taryn shut him down, insisting that the talk wait until after dinner. All three people ate in silence and looked at each other as the tension thickened and grew. When dinner was over, the dishes were piled up by the sink, and the trio walked out to the living room to finally have their fateful talk. Nobody knew what to say or how to start the discussion as they each sat in a different chair. Owen felt, without anyone saying anything outright, that it was his responsibility to start the ball rolling.
"The first thing you need to understand, Rosie, is that neither of us, planned this," Owen said with a deep sigh, as he looked at Rosina with a sincere look on his face.
"So how did this all start? When did it? How long has it been going on?" Rosina blurted out. She quickly cut herself off before she could rattle off a thousand questions.
With a deep sight he looked over at his mother and in reply she nodded at him, agreeing to his silent question. Owen told Rosina about their outing on his birthday that Wednesday and all that happened in the bathroom. Rosina's chin hit the floor as she heard her brother tell her things that she would have never imagined possible.
Even though Owen was as delicate as he could be when talking about the sex that took place, Rosina couldn't help but picture it. Much to her annoyance, she found the picture in her mind, hot, her pussy started to moisten. Rosina was not at all comfortable with this reaction from herself, and felt it was the first step down toward their level. Already she felt her feet start to slip on that slippery slope toward actually joining them in their sick world of incest.
"How could you, Owen?" Rosina asked with her mouth agape in utter shock.
"Like I said, it's hard to describe, it's like I'm discovering a part of myself that I didn't know was there," Owen said and looked down, pausing as he gathered his thoughts together. "After it happened, we talked and found out that we liked what we did . . . we needed something from each other," Owen said looking up to Rosina with a piercing look on his face, a look that begged to be understood.
"Needed? Needed what?" Rosina asked with a wrinkled forehead and a shaky voice.
