Expecting it All (Punishment Pit Book 7)

  Expecting it All

  The Punishment Pit ~ Book Seven

  Livia Grant

  ©2020 by Livia Grant

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Black Collar Press

  Expecting it All

  Punishment Pit Series - Book Seven

  by Livia Grant

  e-book ISBN: 978-1-947559-44-8

  Print ISBN: 978-1-947559-45-5

  Cover Art by Laura Hidalgo and Spellbinding Creations

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First Electronic Publish Date, December 2020

  First Print Publish Date, December 2020

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  Bonus Story – Start of the Honeymoon

  About the Author

  Also by Livia Grant

  Black Collar Press

  Get a FREE Black Light Book

  Chapter One

  Rachel

  "You sure this is where you want to go? It seems like a dangerous place for a pregnant lady."

  Rachel Parker held out a twenty-dollar bill to the Chicago taxi driver. "I'm sure. Just wait until I get inside the door, please."

  The older Asian driver flashed her a look that told her he thought she was crazy. Considering it took her a full minute to pull her ballooned body out of the back seat and stand upright, she couldn't really argue.

  Doubt invaded her mind, and she almost climbed back into the cab. With a deep breath, she forced herself to buck up. Her marriage was suffering, and she was on a mission to do something about it.

  Rachel slammed the car door closed, silently cursing the driver as he took off down the dark alley without waiting even one flat second for her to get safely inside the building. A brisk October breeze whipped around and urged her to pull up the collar of her winter coat to guard against catching a chill. Her Daddy would be upset if she caught a cold.

  She reached in her purse for the magnetic keycard she needed to gain access to The Punishment Pit. It had been six weeks since she'd been to the private club. It felt like a lifetime. Before she got pregnant, she would spend hours every day in this building with her husband, Derek. Days were spent at Titan Securities on the fourth floor. Nights were spent here at The Punishment Pit, watching her husband on stage and joining him in most shows.

  A now familiar paralyzing fear gripped her as the reality of how much had changed in her life closed in. And all because of one simple decision.

  She wanted to be a mom.

  With three older sisters, all good Catholic procreators, Rachel had been blessed with a baker's dozen nieces and nephews, all of whom she adored. When she started to feel left out as the only sister not to have kids, she'd convinced Derek it was time to take the plunge into parenthood.

  The months since that little stick turned blue had taught Rachel that some decisions were not meant to be made in the spur of the moment. She hadn't considered that having a real baby would ultimately bump her out of the baby role in their family.

  As if he could read her thoughts, her young son shifted inside her, reminding her he wasn't going anywhere.

  It's all right, boo. Mommy still loves you. I just need this last chance to be the baby of the family again.

  Rachel forced herself to put one swollen foot in front of the other until she was in the foyer of the club. Pounding music coming from the other side of the thick door told her the show hadn't started yet. That made her happy. She couldn't wait to surprise her husband. He had tried many times to get her to come with him to the club over the last few weeks, but she'd always turned him down. It was hard to feel sexy when you'd packed thirty extra pounds onto a petite, 120 pound frame. Every part of her body was retaining water. She was sure she'd pop if someone poked her with a pin.

  Rachel used her keycard to gain entry to the main floor of The Punishment Pit. It was busy for a Thursday. She should have called ahead and asked Ethan to save her a seat at the front of the club.

  She paused near the door, scanning the space, unsure whether she wanted to see friends in her condition, or try to remain anonymous. Considering she was wearing more clothes than the next four submissives she saw combined, her chances of going unnoticed were slim.

  What she hadn't expected was a new Dom to approach her before she could even get her coat off.

  "Well, hello there. Looking for a playmate tonight?" A handsome man in his forties she'd never met crowded close, daring to reach out as if to take her heavy coat. She peeked up tentatively to see an amicable smile on his tanned face.

  Feeling playful, Rachel opened her coat wide, showing off her protruding, eight-month-old baby-bump. She couldn't resist. "Sorry. I already did my playing a few months ago. I'm here to meet my husband."

  Genuine humor twinkled in the stranger's blue eyes. "Lucky bastard, although I've already done the kid thing. I'm too old to go back to that stage in life again."

  Surprised to be conversing with a stranger about children at The Punishment Pit, Rachel was about to ask him about his kids when a nervous Ethan Walsh, the club manager, stepped between them, his back to Rachel.

  "She's taken, Thomas. Step back." Ethan not so gently shoved the Dom backwards.

  Thomas at least had a good sense of humor about being manhandled. "Relax. I didn't know you were married, Walsh. I was just talking to your little woman here about kids. I didn't mean anything by it." He lifted his hands, palms out, as if to surrender.

  Rachel stepped up to pull Ethan's hand away from the Dom's chest. "Ethan, it's fine. Really. He didn't do anything wrong."

  Finally listening to her, Ethan stepped back to turn towards Rachel. He looked her up and down, his eyes getting bigger by the second.

  "Holy shit, Rach. You're so big!" The second the words left his mouth, his face flushed red. "I mean... wait, that didn't come out right. You look..."

  Rachel giggled. "It's okay. I agree. I feel like I'm carrying a watermelon around." She self-consciously rubbed her baby bump, as she often did.

  Thomas had remained close enough to hear the exchange. "Sooo... I'm guessing this isn't your husband. Either that, or he's doing one piss poor job of keeping up with your pregnancy." The humor in his eyes put Rachel at ease. She liked this guy.

  It was Ethan who injected an answer. "Me, married to Rach? Hell no. The bosses would kick my ass if I got too friendly."

  "Mitchell and Parker? Why's that?" The stranger was curious.

  She wasn't used to playing the role of anything but submissive at The Pit, so it took her a few seconds to realize the right protocol under her new circumstances. Rachel stuck her hand out as a greeting. "Rachel Parker, at your service."

  "Well, isn't this a treat? I've heard all kinds of stories about you, young lady. You're like a legend around this place, but I was beginning to think you were a figment of everyone's imagination. Are all the outrageous stories true?" Thomas asked.

  Rachel smiled shyly, secretly pleased she hadn't be
en forgotten during her time away. "They're all exaggerated, I'm sure."

  As she bantered near the bar with the stranger, Rachel was again reminded of how much had changed with her pregnancy. A year ago, she would have been backstage on her knees, naked, waiting for orders from her Dom and husband on how she could help prepare for that night's show. Only months before, she had been center stage with her Dom, obediently helping to subdue naughty slaves who were due a punishment.

  Ethan reached to help her out of her coat, drawing her attention back to the present. "Let me take your coat and put it back in the office. You planning on watching the show? I can get you set up down front."

  "That would be great, Ethan. I'll be up there in a few minutes."

  He sauntered off, leaving Rachel standing awkwardly with her new friend. "So… I guess—" she began.

  He cut her off. "I'm concerned you arrived alone. This isn't the kind of place a lovely woman like you should be wandering around in alone. I'm surprised your husband isn't with you."

  Rachel heard the censure in his voice and came to her husband's defense. "Derek doesn't know I'm here tonight. I haven't felt up to coming for a long time, but when I felt better this evening, I thought it might be a nice surprise. He's backstage, prepping for the show."

  "Ah, I see. Well, in that case, I'd love it if you'd let me escort you safely to your seat." The gentleman held out his elbow. Since her bloated ankles were aching, she was grateful for his steadying arm.

  They moved toward stage left, where Ethan was in the process of pulling a comfy love seat into place from the perimeter. The two men were attentive, helping get Rachel settled into the soft-cushioned seat, and lifting her swollen feet onto the matching ottoman.

  "You want your usual, Rach?" Ethan's eyes twinkled with mischief.

  She didn't have the heart to tell him she'd rather have a cup of hot tea. "Sure. Can you warm it up?"

  "You bet. I'll be back."

  To her surprise, Thomas still stood nearby. "I was wondering if you'd mind me sitting next to you for the show. You've been involved with this place for a long time, and probably know all the gossip. You can give me the inside scoop on everyone."

  "On one condition," Rachel said.

  "You name it."

  "Tell me if Thomas is your first name or your last."

  He grinned. "Last. Matt Thomas at your service." He gave an exaggerated bow that made her giggle.

  The lights in the large theater style club flickered, letting patrons know the show was about to begin.

  "Well, take a seat Mr. Thomas."

  Ethan was back a few minutes later, a Disney sippy cup of heated milk on his tray. As Rachel reached for the juvenile beverage, she worried what her new friend would think about a grown woman drinking from a child's cup. Confusing emotions she'd been wrangling with throughout her pregnancy flared within her once again, making her wish she'd stayed home.

  Instead of making her feel bad, Matt Thomas grinned. "So I see at least that story was accurate."

  "Which story is that?"

  "That you're a little. I'd heard Derek was a Daddy Dom, but since I hadn't seen him in action, I thought that was a tall tale."

  Rach smiled. "Nope. That one is true." Doubt crowded, her smile slipping. "Well, at least, it was."

  Matt seemed to understand. "I bet he's enjoying taking care of you during your pregnancy."

  That was a mixed statement. She answered truthfully. "Oh, yeah. I was on bed rest for a while at the start, and he loved taking care of me and the baby."

  He watched her carefully before asking, “But?"

  She was saved from continued conversation when the music boomed louder, the house lights dimmed, and Ethan's voice came through the sound system, announcing the start of the show.

  Rachel was excited about watching her Daddy in action. Tonight was a first. In the past, when Derek had been on stage, she had been on stage. The only shows she'd watched from the audience had been shows led by Master Lukus or guest Doms.

  The two-story high red velvet curtains opened, revealing a schoolroom scene set up center stage. A long suppressed flutter of sexual excitement flowed through her girly parts.

  What luck. Naughty schoolgirl scenes were some of her favorites at The Pit. In the past, on slow evenings when no members offered up wayward subs for punishment, Derek and she had frequently taken center stage to act out for the public one of their favorite discipline scenes they usually enjoyed in private. She settled in, fully expecting to enjoy the show.

  Her heart swelled with love the second her Daddy burst onto the stage through the back-center door. He still took her breath away, even now, five years into their relationship. Derek Parker was larger than life. Tall and muscular, ruggedly handsome, ruthlessly protective, fiercely dominant and, behind closed doors, deceptively gentle.

  Rachel loved each and every part that made up her complex husband, but her pregnancy had had the undesired effect of altering the percentages of his personality. Of late, all the other parts had taken a backseat to deceptively gentle Derek. While she adored him for taking such good care of her, Rachel had come to The Pit tonight hoping to be reacquainted with some of the other important parts of her husband. She had missed his dominance... his stern hand... his hard cock.

  She was only half listening as her husband welcomed the members to the club. While he made announcements about the upcoming holiday parties and special hours, Rachel took a trip down memory lane, remembering fondly how they used to have hot sex at least two or three times a day—on a slow day. As Master Lukus used to say, "I've never seen two people fuck more often than you two. You're like rabbits!"

  But that was BP—before pregnancy.

  He's never gonna say that about us again considering my husband no longer finds me attractive. Making love only once in the last six weeks is a new low for us.

  Rachel tried to remain calm about their recent lack of intimacy, telling herself Derek had been worried he would hurt her or the baby. But with each celibate week that passed, she grew less confident that that was the reason. She'd come to the club tonight determined to get laid. She'd even asked her OBGYN to put in writing that it was safe for her to have sex, in hopes of seducing her Daddy after the show.

  The announcements were over. Derek paced the edge of the stage, radiating yummy dominance. She'd missed submitting to her Dom, and longed to be on the stage with him. Rach knew from experience she was seated just far enough back that she was in his blind spot. The bright spotlights trained on the stage would block her from his view, giving her the chance to enjoy the show undetected.

  It wasn't until Trixie, a long-time waitress at The Pit, joined Derek on stage that Rachel became uneasy. The fill-in sub was wearing one of Rachel's own skimpy schoolgirl uniforms. Rachel shifted in her seat, suddenly unable to get comfortable.

  "Young lady, I got a call from the principal. Is there something you'd like to tell me?" Rachel's insides melted at Derek's dominant tone, the same voice he used to use with her in their most private moments.

  Trixie's whining reply grated on Rachel's nerves. "I don't know what you mean, Daddy." The predatory look on Trixie's face wasn't even close to the contrite little girl she was supposed to be playing. Instead, it was an open invitation for the very married Master Derek to do as he would with her.

  His play lecture continued, directed at his center stage co-star. "So you don't know anything about being caught smoking behind the school when you were supposed to be in study hall? Or cursing at the principal when he threatened to phone your daddy?"

  Instead of looking like a guilty little girl about to be punished, Trixie dared to reach her finger out to stroke up and down Derek's chest in a suggestive way. "I promise, I wasn't smoking, Daddy. It was my friends. They were smoking."

  Insecurities raced through Rachel. Was this what she looked like when she was on stage with her husband? Trixie's delivery was wooden, but that wasn't what bothered Rachel the most. There were several dozen members pre
sent in the club. Surely one of the submissives was in legitimate need of a punishment?

  Rachel watched the scene play out on stage. So familiar, yet so wrong. Her pulse went up as she watched Trixie's pretend temper tantrum succeed in getting Derek to pick up the wriggling submissive and carry her to the punishment bench front and center on the stage.

  Trixie's bogus struggles were a joke. She was a poor submissive, and an even worse little. Rachel had known the manipulative woman for years. She recognized Trixie's look of victorious joy at being taken in hand by one of the most popular Doms in the club, all with several dozen witnesses in attendance.

  Dread settled over Rachel as she watched Derek securing Trixie to the wood and leather furniture she herself had been on dozens of times in the past. She was short of breath by the time her husband lifted the short, pleated, schoolgirl skirt covering Trixie's thong underwear.

  It wasn't until the thud of the wooden paddle connected with Trixie's bare ass that Rachel put it all together.

  I'm jealous.

  For the first time in her life, she was jealous of another woman playing with her husband. She'd watched him punish hundreds of submissives over the years. Hell, they even played with other couples occasionally. She'd even helped fondle her Dom's cock to prepare him for an on-stage double penetration that had been part of a collaring ceremony last summer.

  It took her mere seconds to recognize what had changed. In every other case, she'd been there. A participant. The woman he went home with and made love to. His little.

  Her eyes dropped to the swell of her pregnant belly.