Knocked Up and Punished: A BDSM Secret Baby Romance

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Knocked Up and Punished: A BDSM Secret Baby Romance Page 7

by Penelope Bloom


  I nod my head and close my eyes. My body is already shaking from the tremors of pleasure running through me like tendrils of flame. It’s not just the vibrations. It’s the exposure, the strangeness of being in plain sight of anyone who cared enough to look. All the elements blend together into a wonderful mix of euphoria tinged with the fear that I will start moaning and making a scene by having an orgasm in the middle of the crowded club for seemingly no reason.

  “I can’t tolerate a man like him touching you or even thinking of you. But with a certain level of anonymity and detachment, I would enjoy taking you in public.”

  I want to tell him how confusing that is and how little sense it makes, but if I’m being honest with myself I can understand to a certain degree. There is a strong vibe of creepiness coming from Barry. So I understand how him looking at me sexually or trying to touch me would seem more personal and intimdate, even if it was only one-sided. But being taken by Jayce in front of others, like that first night in the room with the glass window… that felt different. It was just something thrilling and exciting in the background.He clicks the button, stopping the vibrations, but not immediately stepping away from me. “The intensity will keep going up,” he says. “So if you think you’ll be able to keep avoiding a scene when you misbehave, you may want to reconsider.”

  He takes me by the small of my back again, finally leading me through the doorway into one of the areas set off from the main lobby. I still haven’t been inside any of these areas except the room with the stage I saw that first night Jayce took me, and the blue room.

  I’m completely shocked when I realize we’re in a restaurant. I thought I had smelled food a couple of times before when I was behind the bar, but I always thought I imagined it because the smell was so faint. The idea that an entire kitchen and wait staff works here and I had no idea is more than a little surprising. Booths and tables are arranged much like they would be at a dinner show, except the show on the stage is seven bare-chested men and one completely naked woman.

  I stop, looking toward the scene in a mixture of horror and fascination. She’s bound by ropes that suspend her from the ceiling and blindfolded. The skin of her breasts and ass is pink, and my guess it’s from the paddles some of the men are holding. “Jayce!” I whisper in alarm. “Is she okay?”

  “I’m going to forgive the fact that you spoke out of turn, because your concern here is reasonable. But yes, she’s probably having the most sensually enlightening moment of her life right now. She volunteered for this, after all. In fact, the waitlist to be featured like this is so long she likely had to wait several weeks for her turn.”

  “She wanted this?” I ask incredulously.

  “This lifestyle has many, many things to offer for many different appetites, princess.”

  “Does that kind of thing turn you on?” I ask, feeling a little nervous for the answer. I’m not about to judge him for his sexual fantasies, but at the same time, I’m desperately hoping he wouldn’t ever want me to do something like that, because I know I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want him to be okay with sharing me with that many men, either--or any men, for that matter.

  “Personally? No,” he says. “I’ve never been particularly drawn to the extremes of BDSM. It has never been about extremes for me. Think of it like this: everyone has a line. For some, the line is drawn before their clothes even come off. For others, the line is sex with a stranger,, or with ten strangers. The most important thing is to find your line and bring yourself to the absolute edge of it. You’ll never feel greater pleasure than when you’re straddling the line between too much and not enough. Go over the line, and your discomfort will taint your pleasure. Stay too far away from it and you’re cheating the experience.”

  “Where’s your line?” I ask.

  “That’s the thing,” he says with a grin. “One of the reasons I know you’re meant to be my submissive is that I feel something I’ve never felt before when I’m with you. I feel like my line is irrelevant now. My line is wherever yours is. Your limit is my own, and nothing will bring me greater pleasure than to help you find that edge again and again, because it will continually move as we explore.I want to be there with you as it does so we can find it together.”

  I laugh a little awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. “I’ve only known you a few days,” I say. “You’re talking like we’re going to be together forever.”

  Even as I say them, my words sound harsh and colder than I intended. I know it’s a defense mechanism--a wall I’m putting up because I’m still afraid he’s going to hurt me if I let him in too close. I hate myself for it. Jayce has been nothing but good to me, and he’s the first guy who is actually making an effort to get to know the real me, yet I can’t seem to stop subconsciously pushing him away.

  Somehow, Jayce manages to take my words in stride. He doesn’t even seem annoyed when he answers. “What would be the point of dating you if I didn’t plan on forever?”

  I open my mouth to respond, but close it again before I say something stupid.

  He puts both hands to my cheeks, rubbing my lips with his thumb in a longing sort of way that makes me tingle all over. “I know you have been through a lot, and I won’t even try to pretend I can understand what it was like. But I can promise you this much. Let me, and I’ll take care of you. I’ll treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I’ll care about you more than you ever imagined someone could. I swear it.”

  For some reason, tears well up in my eyes, but I manage to blink them away quickly, hopefully before he sees. There’s so much I want to say to him right now, but all I can manage is a quiet “thank you.”

  He kisses my forehead. “Come on,” he says gently, but still manages to infuse the words with enough command that I might as well be pulled by a leash as he walks. “And no more free passes,” he says with a grin. “Break the rules again and you’ll pay.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I expect him to take us to an empty booth, but instead, he has us sit with a couple who might be in their mid sixties near the back. I nearly give Jayce a confused look, but worry he might consider that questioning him--so I keep my eyes down as we sit. I can’t say why, but every time I have to force myself to obey his rules and conform to the image he expects for his submissive, I feel a rush of satisfaction. Just knowing I’m pleasing him and being what he wants makes me feel more desirable than I’ve ever felt in my life, and as sad as it is, I can’t seem to get enough of his small looks of approval when I follow his rules. I hardly want to think of my father at a time like this, but his way was to ask for perfection. When he got it, there wasn’t so much as a sniff of approval, and when we fell short of what he wanted, there was hell to pay.

  So this world Jayce is letting me play a part in feels right. The rules are clear, the punishments are swift and so far, enticing in a dirty way. They stretch the limits of my comfort, but not so far as to make me fearful, especially when every time I do what I’m supposed to, I can tell it’s making Jayce happy.

  “Mr. Carlyle,” the man says. I can tell he probably broke a lot of hearts when he was younger, and his companion is no different. I realize I was looking at his face and quickly avert my eyes to the woman at his side, hoping Jayce didn’t notice my slip of concentration. Her lips are curved in a catlike grin while she watches us, gorgeous blue eyes appraising and hard.

  “I wanted to introduce you to my submissive,” Jayce says. “And I thought she might be interested to meet the club’s most experienced dominant and submissive.”

  “You mean oldest?” asks the man with a grin. “I’m Dennis,” he says to me. “And this is Catrina.”

  Jayce chuckles. “Old or experienced. Call it what you will, I was hoping you could explain the history of the club to her. I know you were around long before I ever purchased it and I think she could learn a great deal from you.”

  Dennis makes a pleased sound that strikes a note of nervousness in me. If I know one thing about experienced men, it’s that h
istory seems to be an inexhaustible point on which they can talk about for ages.

  I’m thoroughly confused now, as I can’t see any reason Jayce would want me to have a history lesson on the club, but Dennis begins in earnest, starting with when the building was constructed and how he was actually there at the construction site.

  It’s only a few seconds before Jayce’s hand slides across my thigh under the table. Between trying not to make eye contact with the man who is telling me a story and trying not to look suspicious as Jayce lifts my dress, I feel more than a little tense.

  He starts to rub against my panties, sending chills through me and making my already wet pussy throb.

  Dennis doesn’t seem to notice, though it’s hard to tell when all I can look at are his wildly gesturing hands. But when I sneak a glance up at Catrina, she’s watching with me a great deal of interest and an even wider grin than before, unless I’m imagining it.

  Jayce’s hand slips inside my panties, sliding through my wet folds effortlessly.

  I squirm, trying not to close my eyes or moan as he starts to alternate between circling my clit and plunging his fingers inside me. I lean my elbow on the table and put a hand to my mouth, trying to cover the sound of what are now little gasps that I can’t seem to control.

  Somewhere through the haze of pleasure, I realize Jayce brought us to this particular table precisely so he could get Dennis rambling while he finger-fucked me just a few feet away from two strangers. Bastard. But as dirty as it is, being pleasured like this without either of them knowing is absolutely thrilling. I press my thighs together, trying to control the shaking that wants to rip through my body, but the pressure only buries Jayce’s fingers deeper inside me.

  I sneak a look to the side, wondering how obvious what he’s doing is from the movement of his arm, but I’m impressed to see he’s somehow keeping it completely still. Only his wrist, hand, and fingers are moving, all of which are below the table.

  “...And wouldn’t you believe it?” asks Dennis, who looks to Catrina as he pauses for dramatic effect. “They knew where the plans were the whole time!” he announces, banging his hand on the table as he breaks into a bout of laughter.

  A moan slips out of my mouth, and I’m thankful for the timing, because I force it to turn into a series of gasping, very strange laughs. Catrina covers her mouth, eyes lit with amusement as she watches me. She knows what’s going on. I can feel it.

  My cheeks burn so hot I think I might actually be giving off my own light source.

  Jayce is relentless though, and he keeps working magic with his fingers, not caring how much more obvious it’s becoming by the second that something is going on.

  I try to look anywhere but at the people who must surely be starting to suspect something, and make the mistake of looking toward the stage. The woman is riding one man while another crouches behind her to fuck her in the ass, and she has her mouth around a third man’s cock while she works two more still with her hands. It’s so perverted and completely wrong, but at this particular moment, I’m not exactly thinking with my conservative side, and it’s just enough to push me over the edge.

  My hand comes down hard enough on the table to make Dennis and Catarina’s drink glasses rattle. I look up, even as the orgasm is spearing through me and making my eyes want to shut. “That was incredible,” I breathe with far too much enthusiasm than the boring story warranted. “I can’t believe…” I say, sucking in air. “This place has so much history.”

  Dennis, who somehow appears completely oblivious, nods enthusiastically. “If more young folks like you showed an interest in the history around here, I think the world would be a much better place.”

  “It’s true,” Catarina agrees with a knowing smile. “He says it all the time.”

  Jayce slides his hand out of my panties and to my sheer disbelief, brings his fingers up to his mouth where he licks them clean. Oh my God. I watch him, biting my lip and completely oblivious to how Dennis and Catarina must be looking at us.

  “Can I be excused for a moment? I need to use the ladies room,” I say. The real reason is I feel so flushed and strange being this wet in public, I want to make sure I’m not getting anything on my dress. That, and I need a mental breather from Jayce before he pulls any more crazy stunts.

  Jayce narrows his eyes at me, clearly disappointed. “I have to pee,” I whisper, hoping that’s enough of an excuse for him not to use the vibrator on me again.

  My panties buzz just for a split second, making me falter as I’m walking away from the table. I turn to look back at Jayce when the vibration stops almost immediately. He winks at me and then grins.

  I give him a playful glare before heading toward a waiter and asking where the restrooms are. I walk into a small hall off to the side of the main room just as someone bumps into me, nearly knocking me back.

  I start to apologize, my words fall short when I see who I knocked into. “Cade?” I ask. I take a step back, sucking in a breath to yell for Jayce, but Cade pulls me into a darkened corner of the hallway and pins me to the wall, pressing his hand to my mouth so I can’t scream.

  “Scream and I’ll make you regret it,” he says, bulging his eyes at me until I nod my head.

  He pulls his hand away and I suck in a breath to scream, but he slams his hand back against my mouth, bashing my head into the wall as he does. I wince as the impact gives me an immediate headache.

  “God, it’s easy to forget what a fucking bitch you are,” he says. “But I’ll pretend none of this happened. All you have to do is come back to me, baby. You think he’s a dom? Fuck him. I can be the best dom you’ve ever had in your life.”

  I try to pull his hands away and kick at him, but he uses his knees to pin my legs against the wall and slaps away my hands with his free hand effortlessly. “Go ahead and cry to your new boyfriend. Tell him I hurt you. That’s all you were ever good at. Fucking crying. And when he doesn’t do shit about it, you can come back to me when you realize you need a real man.”

  He shoves me to the side, knocking me down to my knees, where I stay for a few seconds, gasping for breath and wiping the feel of his hand from my face. I want to scream, but all the conditioning from my past rises up in me. The same conditioning that made me weak and kept me from doing anything when guys would treat me like shit. That weakness kept me coming back like a silly, stupid little girl until it got so bad they practically broke me before it got through my blindness.

  I shouldn’t be surprised that my instinct is to stay quiet and bottle it up, though. My dad started training me there was no use fighting back or telling anyone from a young age. I can still remember how I told a family friend about what my dad had been doing to us after one of his bad spells. Instead of telling the cops, they told my dad I had been telling stories, and I swear he nearly killed me that night.

  I slowly get to my feet, just before a woman comes around the corner and gives me a concerned look, but doesn’t stop before entering the bathroom. I wait a few seconds for my head to stop spinning and step inside after her. I check the damage in the mirror, which isn’t as bad as I thought, and make my way back to Jayce, who is talking with Dennis about some kind of business deal they apparently were in on together a few years ago.

  I give him a tight smile that I hope looks genuine as I sit, keeping my eyes down.

  Jayce stops mid-sentence. “I’m sorry,” he says, holding a hand up to Dennis and Catarina. “Would you excuse us?”

  “Of course,” says Dennis.

  Jayce leads me away from the room with the stage into a quieter room, where slow jazz plays and men and women lounge on leather couches, some kissing or fondling, but most just cuddling. Purple light bathes everything, from the people to the glasses of wine and champagne set out for members on several tables throughout the room.

  Jayce keeps walking me through the room without saying a word until he takes me to one of a dozen booths set into the wall. He pulls the curtain closed, which offers us complete priv
acy. For a moment, we’re in total darkness, until he lights a match and ignites the candle at the center of the table.

  I want to ask what’s going on, but I know he’ll tell me when he’s ready, so I keep my mouth closed and wait.

  “I need you to tell me what happened,” he says stonily.

  I reel back, taken off guard. “What happened?” I ask stupidly.

  He leans forward until his gorgeous face is lit in flickering orange light. “You left. You came back. Something happened in between.”

  I open my mouth wordlessly, trying and failing to think of how I can explain why I didn’t say anything to him when I came back.

  “I need to know,” he growls. “Something happened to my princess, and I want to fucking know what it was so I know whose ass to kick.”

  I shake my head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Maybe I didn’t tell you because I don’t just want somebody kicking anyone’s ass who treats me wrong.”

  “So someone did something to you?” he asks, bull headedly ignoring the point I’m trying to make.

  I clutch my temples, letting my head fall. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, okay? I just don’t ever seem to do the right thing when guys are involved. I always let them hurt me and make me feel like shit. It’s only after it’s over that I realize what I should’ve done,” I say, blurting out more than I intended. “Maybe my instincts are just crap.”

  Jayce is clearly trying to control his anger, so his words come out clipped and forced. “I can’t help if I don’t know what happened.”

  “Cade was here,” I say, looking up. “Okay? He…” my lips curl with disgust when I think about how I let him do that to me and just walk away--how I wasn’t even going to say anything. “He was here,” is all I can manage.

  Jayce’s nostrils flare and his hands clench into fists. “That shouldn’t be possible. I had all the security personally shown his picture and told not to let him in under any circumstances.”

 

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