“Aw, that’s cute. Man doesn’t know how to cope with his woman’s mysterious natural functions. Has to call in a female friend for backup. Very sweet.”
“I’m serious. I don’t know anything about labor or birth, or babies for that matter.”
“So take a class like everyone else. My three are all grown up now. I hardly remember giving birth.” She blew her breath out. “Thank God for that.”
Mephisto watched his friend busy herself with another task. If he didn’t know better— “Lorna, are you angry with me about something?”
She gave a sharp laugh, then put down the vibrators she was tinkering with. “Okay, yes. I’m a little upset. What’s going on here? What are you doing? Clayton’s barely a year in his grave.”
“She’s my slave now. She’s collared. We’re committed to each other.”
“And now you’re having a baby? Molly’s a baby herself.”
“She’s not,” Mephisto cut in. “Not anymore.”
“Women like Molly never grow up. What kind of mother will she be?”
“She’s changed in the last year. She’s not the same person she was.”
“You’ll end up raising the child yourself, mark my words. You’ll be parenting both of them. As for your precious dynamic, your collar and your mastery of her, you can kiss that goodbye from here on out.”
Lorna looked bitter, and yes, angry. “It’s not going to work that way with us,” he said. “So I guess that’s a ‘no’ on having a chat with her?”
“You know—” Lorna stopped, collected herself. “For a lot of us here, you’ve always been the one who had his shit together, the one in charge. You’ve always been the center of the Seattle kink universe, but now we all feel like we’re losing you. To her.”
“To Molly. You can say her name. It’s not cursed.”
“Fine. We all feel like we’re losing you to Molly. It’s not a good feeling.”
Mephisto thought a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I can see how it feels that way, but you’re not losing me to anyone. I’m changing, just as she’s changed. If you’re my friend, if you care about me, you have to accept that and let it happen. And you have to stop panicking and assuming this is somehow the beginning of the end. It’s not the beginning of the end, it’s just the beginning of something different. It will take a lot more than me and Molly pairing up to kill the Seattle kink scene.”
He strolled over to Lorna—carefully. She was a judo expert. When he didn’t get a roundhouse kick to the neck, he felt confident enough to take her hand. “Can I hug you, Mistress?” he asked.
“Sure. If you don’t mind getting your nuts surgically removed from your gall bladder after I knee them up there.”
He hugged her anyway, until her tight leather corset creaked beneath his strong embrace. “You don’t have to talk to Molly. You don’t even have to like her, even though it saddens me, since you’re my closest friend. You don’t have to be happy for us. But please—don’t worry. Nothing is ending. I’m not going anywhere, I’m not going vanilla, and I sure as hell am not giving up my stranglehold over all the pervs of Seattle. I’m too controlling to do that.”
“You are controlling,” Lorna conceded gruffly.
“But if I do go vanilla, I give you permission to hunt me down and domme me into submission until I rediscover myself.”
“Can I nail your cock to a two-by-four?”
“Um...”
“Will this be a no-limits type of arrangement? I could get into that.”
“Limits will be my cock, nails, and two-by-fours.”
She pushed him away. “Already getting so tame.” Then she smiled in spite of herself and crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, you’ll make a great dad. Even if I find the whole idea disgusting.”
“Hey, I find the idea of you having three kids kind of disgusting too, considering your predilection for nailing cocks to wood.”
“Only your cock, Mephisto. Only the best cock earns the nails.”
He shuddered and took a step away from her. “I’m glad we had this talk. I’d actually like you to stay the hell away from Molly at this point, if you don’t mind.”
They both laughed then. When they sobered, things felt peaceful again, copacetic between them. “I respect you so much, Lorna. If you ever change your mind, I think you and Molly could find more common ground for friendship than you think.”
Lorna didn’t answer, only turned her attention away from him. Mephisto walked out. He knew by now when he was dismissed.
*** *** ***
Molly made a beautiful pregnant woman. Before sex, before play, Mephisto would make her walk around and flaunt her belly and breasts for him. Pure porn. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy having his wispy slavegirl back at some point, but for now he was enjoying watching her bloom. Over the past four months, the guest room had been turned into a nursery outfitted in sage and cream. Gender neutral. Their baby had been persistently coy in revealing its sex during ultrasounds. Mephisto was strongly opposed to pink and blue indoctrination anyway. Sage and cream suited him just fine.
And their sex life? Lorna had been off, way off. They were hornier and kinkier than ever. Mephisto’s imagination exploded with twisted pregnancy fantasies. He liked to pretend she was his breeding slave, that she was bearing child after child for his pleasure. Sometimes they played Christian Fundamentalists and had awkward, tender sex in the missionary position around her big belly while they prayed about the sanctity of life. His favorite by far, though, was the forced-pregnancy fantasy.
“Come here, kitten,” he said, gesturing to her. She crossed the room, snuggling into his arms. He ran a finger down her cheek, his other hand caressing her rounded tummy. “I want to play the thing where I’m impregnating you against your will. Again.”
Molly giggled, looking down at her 7-month waistline. “It’s getting harder and harder to buy into the ‘I’m gonna knock you up, bitch’ thing. When I’m so obviously...you know...knocked up already.”
He put a finger over her lips. “Silence, naughty slavegirl. The correct answer is ‘Yes, Master, I’d be delighted to act out that fantasy for you.’”
Molly laughed some more while he went to the bed and started arranging pillows and some sex cushions he’d ordered through Lorna’s shop. “All we have to do,” he explained patiently, “is fix it so the belly doesn’t show.”
When the pillows and cushions were propped just right, he beckoned her over.
“Would you like me to fight you, Master?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes. “I should beat you just for asking that question.”
Ah, nothing like a struggling, pleading slave. He appreciated the way she threw herself into the acting, pulling away from him, screaming and crying. It was a Monday night. The club was empty; otherwise his dungeon masters and bouncers would have come running at her panicked screams. He put a hand over her mouth.
“Scream all you want...Mary Louise. You’re having a baby for me whether you want to or not.”
She choked on a laugh and broke out of her role. “Mary Louise?”
He gave her a sharp slap to her flank. “Good slaves don’t laugh at their Masters. Now you’ll have to be impregnated and punished.”
Ha, he would have punished her anyway and she knew it. She gave a little shiver and launched back into character, dragging her heels and pushing at him as he practically carried her to the bed. He forced her forward onto his nest of cushioning.
“Okay?” he whispered. “You have enough support?”
“Yes, Master.”
He held her down while he groped for the cuffs that were permanently affixed to their bed frame. He restrained her wrists first, then slid down the bed to capture her kicking feet. She came really close to taking out his cock with one kick. It was a big target—he was hugely hard. “You’re a bad, bad girl,” he yelled, slapping each of her flexing ass cheeks when he finally had her tied down. She was more or less on her knees, bent forward, the cu
shions cradling her belly. Oh yes, her ass was his.
“Let me go,” she screamed, struggling against her bonds. “I don’t want a baby.”
“I didn’t ask you, did I?” he yelled back.
“Let me go, you asshole. When I get away from you, I’m calling the police. You’re going to be so fucked.”
“No,” he said, leaning down to stare in her eyes. “You’re fucked. Because you’re never getting away from me. I’m going to put my baby in you and you’ll be tied to me for life. You’ll stay with me and my baby and we’ll be one big happy family, or else it will be the bad-girl cage for you. Do you understand?”
Molly spit at him. Jesus Christ, she was getting good at this roleplaying stuff. “Never. Never, never, never,” she screamed.
He grabbed a handful of her hair. “You’re going to regret that, my little spitfire. Bad girls get punished until they learn to be good.” He went over to the closet and picked up one of his thick leather belts. He doubled it over and held it in front of her face. It spoke a lot to her trust of him, that even now, heavily pregnant, she’d let him play with her like this. She knew he would be carefully controlled. God, he would never harm her. Hurt her though? Yes, he was about to hurt her a lot.
He landed a sharp crack on her left cheek. His cock bucked as she squirmed. He smacked the right cheek next, then both in a resounding whap. She wailed in protest, not as Molly, but as his unwilling captive. “Stop it! Stop hitting me.”
“When you’ve learned your lesson,” he said with a hard voice.
Whap, whap, whap. He wasn’t hitting her full force, but he was hitting her enough to excite her sexually. Her pussy was already glistening wet.