<div class="floatleft">(https://www.theplace2.ru/archive/elizabeth_turner/img/elizabeth-turner-wil(8).jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Mar Sinclair<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Saturday October 10th<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Home<br/><strong>Content/Mood:</strong>Coming home | Anxiously excited<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Mar and Erin<br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Celeste had to bite her lip to keep from giggling at Mar and Erin's back-and-forth. They were a cute couple. But she'd always known that. This was just the the first time seeing it in action, and surprisingly, she didn't feel even the slightest pang of jealousy. That had worried her, when they first started talking together. How might she fit in to their lives? Would she be an afterthought, just a bit of fun on the side? These two had been married for years, known each other for longer. They had a life together, a whole long history. There was no way Celeste could compete with that. Not that she ever expected to, or even wanted to. But she didn't want to feel less-than either; she wanted to feel special, cared for, loved. Her mind told her that that would take time; you can't build a relationship over night. Her heart wanted it to happen sooner, though.<br/><br/>Turned out, her heart was getting its way. She didn't know exactly how Mar and Erin felt about her, but she knew how they were making her feel. In a word, welcome. Welcome not just into their home but into their relationship, into their lives. She was their little girl, and she didn't feel jealous at all. That was strange. But it was a welcome peculiarity.<br/><br/>On the way back to the kitchen, she started to feel other things too. It was Erin's response to Mar's question about the wine that did it. The first time Mommy put her foot down about anything. Celeste had known it was coming, eventually; they'd all three been pretty clear from the beginning what her role in this relationship would be. That still didn't prepare her for it. She didn't say anything at first, just put a hand over her fluttering tummy. Excitement, that was part of it. A bit of frustration too -<em>I can drink what I want!</em>She didn't say that, though; it wasn't her place to argue with Mommy and Daddy. That excited her, too. Not sexually, not really. It was a different sort of excitement, a feeling deep in the pit of her stomach rather than between her legs. Not sexual, no, but no less intense. This was her initiation into the role, even more than calling Erin Mommy, even more than calling Mar Daddy. Those were just titles. This was real. She was their submissive little girl; they made the decisions. Mommy and Daddy called the shots.<br/><br/>As to the wine, Celeste didn't say anything. She'd been drunk before - and more than once. The drinking age was 18 where she'd come from and most people started long before then. She wasn't about to tell either of them that, though they probably suspected. Not too many women reached their 20th birthday without ever having indulged. Besides, Celeste didn't actually like wine all that much. If she was going to drink, it needed to be a whole lot sweeter and a whole lot more sugary. Somehow, she doubted anything like that would be offered. Grapejuice sounded fine. It was up to Mommy and Daddy, though - she'd let them decide.<br/><br/>Then Mar brought up school. Celeste felt her stomach do another little flip, her heart begin to race. She licked her lips, eyes darting back and forth between the two older women as they discussed her, just like before, almost as if she weren't even there. Mommy and Daddy's little girl indeed. Celeste was beginning to feel<em>very</em>small. And she loved it. She loved it, because it felt real. Her frustration certainly was. Nothing major, just a small surge of grumpy, childish indignance stirring up in the pit of her stomach. It took some serious restraint on her part not to stomp her foot on the floor in protest.<br/><br/>Instead, she gave her head a small nod. "I sent it, Daddy." Her eyes turned to Erin, then, a pair of red circles in the younger woman's cheek. She had no idea what sort of meeting they had planned with her Dean, except that the main topic would be her. That was embarrassing, if not quite humiliating. It was also exciting. Just more proof how much her life was changing, that she was part of this family now. Erin, Mar, and Celeste. Mommy, Daddy, and their little girl.<br/><br/>Without a word of protest, she hurried into the kitchen where the utensils were waiting. They were in her hands, and she was already bringing them back to the table, when Mommy started talking about bedtimes. And this time, Celeste actually did stomp her foot, stopping in her tracks to do so. "That's<em>so</em>early!" She protested, standing just beside the table. Her eyes locked onto Erin's first, stared at her for a moment, then switched to Daddy, where she hoped to find a little more lenience. Doubtful. But a girl could hope. "I don't want to go to bed that early." She said in a much softer voice than before, more a defeated pout than a defiant protest. She lowered her eyes, dropped a fork and knife and whatever else was needed down on the table by the first of the three plates. "I won't even be able to sleep if I go to bed at 10."