Molly was coming to think of this as their park bench. Every time they came to this park and ate ice cream, they sat here. They’d sat here years ago, and in the months after Clayton’s death, and now they sat here again.
“I love this kind of ice cream,” Molly said. “I don’t know why. It’s kind of bland.” She took another lick of her soft vanilla cone. “I think it’s the consistency.”
“You could get chocolate, you know. Swirl. You’re more of a swirl girl, aren’t you?”
She smiled at her Master. “Am I?” She kicked at the grass under the bench and pulled her coat more tightly around her. There was something she wanted to talk about with him, but it was uncomfortable to bring it up. “Master?”
“Yes, baby?”
“I worry sometimes that I’m not going to be a good mother. That I’m not fit to be a mother.”
He frowned. “Not fit to be a mother? Are you kidding me?” He rubbed his forehead. “Okay, tell me why you feel that way.”
“I don’t know. I guess because I’m not like other people. Our kid will have a weird mom.”
“You’re not weird.” He stopped, thought a moment. “Okay, you’re weird, but I happen to think weird people make the best parents.”
“Even...kinky parents? We have a cage under our bed, for God’s sake. Our child’s going to grow up in a BDSM club.”
Mephisto chuckled. “I think before the baby gets too old we’ll have to find another place. Maybe rent the back space out to an employee. But we’ll handle it. So we’re kinky, so what? It will just make the parent-teacher conferences a lot more interesting.”
Molly looked around the park, at all the normal moms. She’d never count herself in that group, she knew that. She tried to be okay with it, but somewhere deep inside, she wanted to be normal, like them, with nothing to hide.
“Even now,” he said softly. “You’re still ashamed of who you are, aren’t you?”
She didn’t bother to deny it. “I’m sorry, Master.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I wish I understood though. Yeah, kinky people are different. We’re not your average Joe and Jane, but I’m not going to hang my head about it. Nothing we do is illegal or even immoral in my mind. Just because you and I are kinky doesn’t mean we don’t deserve to be parents, that we can’t raise children as well as anyone else. And you have a legacy to pass on. Clayton’s good works, and your good works now. You have a lot of money and influence that will need to be passed down one day to someone with a similar mindset on kindness and generosity. This is our chance to create that someone. Why shouldn’t we, Molly? Why shouldn’t we raise up a really wonderful human being?”
“Well, I want to do that. I’m just worried that since I’m not exactly normal, our kid won’t turn out normal either.”
“If we love him and nurture him, he’ll turn out wonderful whether he’s normal or not.”
Molly looked over at him, surprised. “You said ‘him.’ Do you think it will be a boy?”
Mephisto shrugged. “I kind of do. I don’t know why. Just a feeling. And I have a fifty percent chance of being right,” he added with a laugh. “Listen, kitten. Don’t worry. You’ll be a great mom, and I’m going to bust my ass to be Dad of the Century. As for the rest, we’ll be ourselves, to a point. We’ll find more private ways of doing our kinky things. Sell the cage bed, move the other cage into a dark closet somewhere.” He eyed her with a grin. “You got turned on a little just now, didn’t you?”
Molly licked a long, teasing line along the length of her cone. “Yes, I did.”
“Maybe we should start looking for an appropriately dark closet later when we get home.”
“Oh yes, Master. And to be honest, I won’t be sad to see the bad-girl cage go.”
“Liar. You love that cage.”
She smirked at him, suggestively assaulting her ice cream.
“Be careful, kitten,” he muttered. “There are laws against public indecency, and if you push me too far, I’ll break them all.”
She studied him. He did look pretty keyed up, but then, he’d seemed that way since they’d gotten to the park. “Is everything okay, Master?” she asked. “I’m always leaning on you for my problems, but you never tell me any of yours.”
He gave her a piercing, tender look that made her heart thump hard for a moment. “I don’t have a whole lot of problems. When I do, you always make me feel better.”
Molly ate the last of her cone and went into his arms. He held her close, pressing a kiss against her forehead. He held her so much these days, her belly didn’t even feel awkward anymore jammed between them. Now and again the baby would kick and turn over—maybe a form of protest at being squeezed so much. She clung to him. “I love you, Master. I love you so much.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, although she felt a subtle change of tension in his body. “It was about three years ago, now. Since we sat here that first time. I think that was the first time I admitted to myself...God...‘I really want her.’ Now here you are.”
She knew exactly what he was talking about. She sat up and smiled at him. “Three years. It’s hard to believe. But then, not hard at all. So much has happened since then. So much has changed.”
“Some things have changed. Other things have stayed the same.” He looked away from her, across the park, his lips tightening. “All I could think about that day was how jealous I was of Clayton. That week, I wondered so many times what it would be like to be your Master, to own you and enjoy you whenever, however I liked.”
He took her hand. Molly looked down at their interlaced fingers. “Well, you have that now. Is it everything you hoped?”
“Oh, Molly.” He gazed into her eyes, then away again. “God, baby, it’s so much more than I hoped. So much more fulfilling. So much deeper. I wanted your intelligence, your impeccable service. Your willpower. I never even understood about all the rest. The love, the closeness.” He ran his thumb across her wrist, looking down at their hands. “Listen, it’s time to say this. I think we should get married. I’d like to get married before our child is born. Even without a baby, I would have wanted to be with you forever. But with him...or her...on the way, we might as well make it official. What do you say?”
She couldn’t say anything. Her heart was suddenly wedged tightly in her throat.
“I’m asking Molly, by the way. Not my kitten. Not my slavegirl. I’m asking you, and you can say yes or no, just like a vanilla woman.”
Like a normal woman. Her lips curved in an irrepressible smile. “It’s so normal, to get married. Maybe there’s hope for us after all.”
Mephisto snorted. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Normal? I don’t have a ring for you, except for this one,” he said, touching the small ring that held her “M” charm. “I’ll get you one after the baby comes. When you’re not so...”
“Fat? Bloated?” Molly provided.
“Fluffy,” he said, rubbing her perpetually swollen fingers. “You can help me pick it out.”
“Thank you, Master. I think that sounds wonderful.”
“So is that a yes? A yes from Molly, not a Yes, Master, I’ll do whatever you ask?”
“Yes, Master. It’s a yes from Molly.” She looked up at the sky for a moment. “You’re making me feel a little schizophrenic. But either way, the answer is yes.”
He scrutinized her, a curl of amusement at the corner of his lips. “You know, I thought you’d be crying. I expected drama and waterworks. I’m a little disappointed.”
Molly couldn’t look away from those lips, that lovely smile. God, how she loved this man. “I can’t cry. I’m too happy. And for once in my life, I’m not conflicted. This just seems so perfect and...right. Too perfect to cry over. Although...” She pulled out the most guilty-slave look from her arsenal and pasted it on her face. “If you’re very disappointed, Master, I suppose you should punish me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Toppy little slavegirl. This is what happens as soon as you pop the que
stion. Sheesh.”
“I’ll never top you, I promise,” Molly said, squeezing his fingers. “You can put it in the vows.”
“Oh, our vows are going to be something special. I’m going to start writing them tonight. There might be something in there about a chastity belt.”
Molly laughed and snuggled closer in his arms. “I hereby plight you my orgasms.”
“Yes! I like the sound of that.” Mephisto sighed. “I like the sound of that very much.”
Chapter Fourteen: Happy
A wedding. Mephisto wouldn’t have believed it, not even a year ago. Now he was standing in the middle of a motley group of kinky friends and well wishers in a city park, gazing into the eyes of the woman who meant the world to him.
He wasn’t in a tux, although he’d worn his best black dress shirt and removed the chains that normally swung from this particular pair of jeans. And Molly wasn’t in white, but in light blue with white flowers. It suited her. No frilly, billowing skirt, but a form fitting silk dress that outlined her beautiful pregnant curves. Her very pregnant curves.
They’d thrown it together quickly. They were on a deadline after all—Molly’s belly wasn’t getting any smaller. Still, it was exactly what he would have wanted it to be, even with years of planning. Intimate, emotionally moving. Best of all, they were among close friends. They’d asked Lorna to officiate, since when a Master married his slave, it was best to have a kinky person standing there overseeing the vows. Mistress Lorna looked striking in a black corset and fitted black pants. She intoned their vows in a deep, formal voice, looking at them over the edge of her cat-eye glasses.
“For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health—”
“In handcuffs and in chains,” a voice suggested from the back of the group. Laughter broke out as Lorna glared at the culprit.
“Let’s respect the sanctity of this moment”—she arched one threatening brow—“or I’ll be breaking out the handcuffs and chains, and you won’t like it.”
The ceremony concluded with no further outbursts, although Mephisto and Molly exchanged quite a few soft chuckles at Mistress Lorna’s additions and ad-libs. As long as they were legally married, Mephisto didn’t care what else they swore to each other. Whips, chains, chastity belts? It was all good.
They descended afterward on the club, to eat, drink, and watch everyone else play in a bacchanalian celebration of their union. They played a little too, with great caution. As it turned out, it was the last real play they did. Molly moved into her eighth month shortly afterward. Their appointments came more frequently. The doctor warned them to dial back the intensity of any scenes they did, but Mephisto was so afraid of harming her or the baby that he called a hiatus on play altogether until after the birth.
They still hung out in the club. In a way, watching and admiring the pleasure of others became a way for them to remain sexually close, even into her ninth month. The people they watched didn’t mind, and he and Molly got to share in their ecstasy—and collect ideas. He would have liked to play with Molly, sure, but she could barely move, much less submit to a crop or flogger. He rubbed her lower back as she perched beside him near the spanking bench. A very noisy, very arousing scene was unfolding between a slick young dom and his lithe submissive—exhibitionists both.
Mephisto nudged her with a shoulder as they drank in the interaction. “Do you miss it?”
Molly tilted her head to the side, watching the sub’s sinuous struggles. “You mean the spanking? Or having a waistline like that?”
Mephisto laughed and took her hand. “Oh, you’ll get your waist back, kitten. I think you miss the playing more.”
“God, yes, Master.” She sighed in resignation. “I’d give anything just to wear a pair of nipple clamps right now.”
He pitched his voice low and leaned close to speak in her ear. “I’ll give you all the nipple clamps you want, very soon, girl. All you can bear,” he added, arching one eyebrow.
She squeezed his hand, giving a little shudder. “Don’t tease me, please, Master. That’s just cruel.”
He gave her a fortifying smile. “You love cruelty, my little maso. Don’t worry, it won’t be long now before we can get back to it.”
“Mm,” said Molly. “I thought the doctor said we had to wait at least six weeks.”
“Six weeks is nothing. I lusted after you for years, Molly. I can do six weeks.”
Poor Molly, sitting everything out. It meant he sat out too, even though she’d mustered up the courage last week to suggest he take on a temporary slave until she could serve him again. He’d slapped her on the ass and locked her in the cage until she felt better. She was otherwise doing pretty well. She was ready for childbirth, cocky about it even. “I love pain,” she’d told him. “Labor will be nothing to me.”
Mephisto wasn’t so sure. Well, about the labor part anyway. He was definitely sure about her loving pain. Her lips were a little pinched, and her jaw seemed to tighten in response to the sexy, intense scenes around them. He kissed her on the side of the neck. “Don’t be too sad, kitten. Our day will come again.”
Molly shifted to pull him closer, one hand cradling her distended waist. “No... I’m not sad, Master. I’m a little uncomfortable. I think I might be in labor.”
Mephisto blinked. “What? What?!” Don’t panic. You’re the Master, you’re in charge. Be cool. “Are you— How long—?” He squeezed her shoulders, probably much too hard. Okay, not exactly cool.
“It’s okay, Master,” Molly said quickly. “I’m fine. I’m barely feeling the contractions.”
“Being in labor is not the time to brag about your pain tolerance!” he yelled.
Molly looked at him like he was nuts. “No, what I mean is they’re not that strong yet. I mean, they haven’t been. I didn’t think it was the real thing. But now...they’re starting to get more intense.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when they first started? How long has this been going on?”
“A few hours now, Master. But it’s Friday night…and the club’s so busy... Labor can last for twelve hours or more.”
He took her chin in his fingers and glared at her. “I’ll beat you for this later. I really think I will.”
“If you believe I deserve punishment, Master, I’ll happily—”
“Oh God,” Mephisto snapped, looking to the heavens for sanity. “Save it. Please. Darling...” He softened his voice. “When was your last contraction?”
Her mouth tightened. “I’m having one right now.”
“Is it bad? I mean, on the scale of a non-masochistic person?”
“Um...this one is actually pretty bad, Master. Even for me.” She opened her mouth and started panting quietly. Mephisto let out a long slow breath. “Holy fuck me. Okay. This is why we have your bag all packed. I’ll call Dr. Willetts. Wait here.”
The kinksters around them were starting to notice something was going on. Probably from the way Molly was gripping her belly and bending over at the waist.
“This dungeon is not equipped for childbirth, even if it has a medical table and stirrups,” Mephisto warned as he ran to the back to grab her bag. By the time he returned, one of the bouncers was waiting with Molly by the door. On the way across the play space, he corralled Lorna by one arm.
“I need you.”
“Asking first is nice.”
“Lorna, please come with us. She doesn’t have a mother to be here. She needs a woman with her, a woman who’s been through this before.”
Lorna eyed Molly. Mephisto could sense her softening even as she turned to glare at him, lips pursed. “I’m not a mommy, Master Mephisto, as you know. I’m a Mistress.”
Mephisto shrugged, drawing her along. “Fortunately, she responds to that too.”
*** *** ***
Molly was placid even in excruciating pain. Mephisto, though, was about to jump out of his skin. She was suffering so badly, and the contractions were close together now. Molly would screw her eyes shut and whimper thr
ough each one, making tiny huffing noises of panic, each one like a stab in his heart. “Why don’t you just take something, kitten?”
“It’s almost over,” she gasped. “It’s okay, I can do it.”
“This isn’t a test. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
“Yes I do,” she said with a surprising amount of heat, before collapsing back in exhaustion. “I have to prove something to myself.”
Mistress Lorna glowered from the corner. “Just make her, Mephisto. You’re the Master, aren’t you?” she added with a hint of derision.
Yes, he was the Master, but in this... He shook his head. “She’s the one in labor. Not me.”
Lorna sauntered over and leaned down to fix Molly in her stern gaze. “Take the drugs, girl. Have an epidural. Why don’t you do it for your Master’s peace of mind, instead of being so selfish?”
“It might hurt the baby,” Molly gasped.
“Where did you hear that? Poppycock.” Mephisto stifled a smile at Lorna’s blustering, while Molly’s wide eyes took in the domme’s threatening glare. There was a reason this woman could subdue even the most intransigent male slaves. “Get an epidural now and you can enjoy the rest of the birth in peace with your Master. Or keep being stubborn. I’ve been where you are, Molly. It only gets worse. Pretty soon those contractions will be coming right on top of each other, with no time to rest in between.”
“Holy hell.” Mephisto turned on his heel. “I’m going for a nurse. I’ll be right back.”
The nurse returned with him a minute later, smiling brightly. “Mr. Tennant tells me you’re ready to order an epidural.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Molly answered meekly. Good girl. A few minutes later he was standing in front of her, bracing her while she whined through another contraction. She sucked in a breath as the anesthesiologist poked at her back.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“The epidural, no. The contraction?” She whimpered again. “Yes, it really hurts.”
Her soft “it really hurts” was the equivalent of a tortured scream from an average woman.
Burn For You Page 18
