Epilogue II
EPILOGUE II
KIRA
Walking into Carnal feels more like coming home than walking into our current house does since it’s such a mess with all the boxes. I couldn’t stand being without Isaak, so he slept over at my place most nights—with Mrs. Samuelson upstairs.
Suffice to say, we had to keep things down.
Hence spending a lot of time at Carnal .
I wave at Gemini and Quinn and Moira. Well, I try but Moira’s too lost in a scene with her dom Bane. He’s got her strapped in the full body restraints that hang from the ceiling, legs spread, and he’s torturing her clit with some sort of large vibrator. Another dom behind her is busy inserting a large toy up her ass, and another still pinches her nipples. She lets out little yips of pleasure before her dom withdraws the vibrator, making her whine. It’s clear he’s directing the scene, barking out orders to the other two men.
I’ve still never seen Bane without his mask, and I’m sure Moira would object to me calling him her dom since she’s so sensitive about always staying a free agent. And it’s true they’ve been very on again, off again all winter and spring. But even Isaak says he’s still never seen anyone capture her interest for so long.
Still, Moira’s been busy being… well, being very Moira. Sometimes she’s up, sometimes she’s down. All the time she’s fucking. I have my hypothesis about her, but Dr. Ezra told me it’s not nice to go around diagnosing your friends. That’s what a therapist is for, if she’d ever fucking go to one.
“Enjoying what you see, Red?” Isaak says, coming up behind me like he so often does and wrapping his arms around my waist.
I love leaning back against his strong chest and having his arms around me. God, the hormones have made me such a freaking basket case lately. I swear, a commercial made me cry the other day. But there was this little puppy and he got lost in the city and?—
God, if I even think about it, I’ll start to tear up all over again.
I’m ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
Fuck your cares away. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You know what? Sometimes my intrusive thoughts and me are on the same page. I’ve started to realize that my repetitive thoughts are just like little song jingles. Fuck your cares, fuck your cares fuck your cares away. Fuck your cares, fuck your cares, fuck your cares away .
Yes it’s a coping mechanism when I’m dealing with stress, but sometimes they’re just nice little brain loops to busy my mind.
Fuck your cares, fuck your cares, fuck your cares away .
For the next hour or so, Isaak can take me to a place where I don’t have to think about finishing my dissertation, or unpacking, or— or?—
My hand drops to my belly near Isaak’s and my heart really starts to race.
Fuck your cares, fuck your cares, fuck your cares away .
“Please,” I turn in Isaak’s arms. “Fuck me?”
Still seeing the desire darkening his eyes every time we come here lights the fire low in my belly. And I wasn’t kidding about being horny earlier.
There are things they don’t tell you about pregnancy. Number one, “morning sickness” is a lie. It’s all-day sickness. Number two, the hormones. They make you weepy as fuck, and all I can think about when I’m not freaking out about other things is jumping on Isaak’s dick. Ironic, since that’s what got us in this situation. But I swear. I’ve never been this horny in my life. Why don’t people warn you ?
I mean, Isaak’s not complaining.
But still. I’ll wake up to him slightly hard against me with morning wood and I get out of control.
“Remember this morning?” I ask, blinking up at him.
“Oh I remember. But tell me about it anyway. In detail.” He grabs my wrists and secures them behind my back in one of his big hands and I breathe out, breasts heaving up towards him as my belly swoops with need.
“You weren’t awake yet but you’d been having a good dream?—”
“I wasn’t dreaming at all and that’s what was so wonderful. I was just passed out all night happy as fuck pressed up against your hot little body. That’s all it takes for my johnson to stand at attention. Awake or asleep.”
He leans down and kisses me. Not a quick peck, but far shorter than I would prefer. It’s true though. He has been sleeping through the night more without disturbing dreams. He only had one the whole last month. And he’s been staying in our bed.
“But I was a little sleepy, so why don’t you remind me while we walk this way.” He leads me towards the other end of the club. Halfway there, he pauses to pull my black dress up and over my head, twisting it to bind my arms at my back and leave me otherwise completely naked.
I didn’t wear a bra or underwear, and I breathe out hard at seeing others in the club notice me.
Isaak’s realized just how much I enjoy eyes on me.
Turns out my voyeurism kink goes both ways. I don’t just like to watch. I like it when I’m being watched while Isaak does the most debauched things to me. It turns everything up a notch—sometimes several notches, depending on what he’s doing.
And it turns out I love when he takes control during these sessions at the club.
In the rest of my life, I want to be in complete control. In my classroom at school with my students. When I’m doing my doctoral research and working with Dr. Ezra on his projects. Whenever I’m dealing with my parents. My dad’s actually been reaching out more lately. Trying to make amends even though he was such a shit at the wedding. He feels bad. Rightly so. Apparently my brother, Matthew, finally stood up to him and let him have it about not listening to me when I warned him who Drew was.
I was shocked on both accounts. Matthew ignored me his whole life, but he and I have spent some time on the phone lately, too. He wants to move back here sometime this year. He said he wants to get to know his niece or nephew and intends to take being an uncle seriously.
My whole life I tried so hard to fit in. With my family and with the strange plastic society they lived in—neither of which seemed to ever want me.
And right when I walk away, suddenly both are willing to embrace me.
There was a big outpouring from the community after Drew’s death. Okay, not right at first, when his father was still trying to push a narrative that Isaak and I had murdered his son even though everyone had been in the church when Drew fired the first shot and there was security footage backing up our story. But then it all came out that his father, the esteemed Senator, had been accepting bribes to vote on certain bills that came across his desk. That opened the pandora’s box on investigations that revealed all sorts of embezzlement, fraud, and outright theft of not only campaign funds, but state funds, too. Turned out he had a severe gambling problem.
That social community, I’m done with. Well, except for asking for donations for my mental health outreach centers. No need to fund it all myself when I can bleed other rich fucks like my parents to give back to those who need help far more than they ever could.
I haven’t told my parents or Isaak, but I donated half the inheritance money that was deposited in my account that terrible day to a variety of veterans’ programs.
There’s still plenty left to start my own center, but I just refuse to be part of a system that centers so much wealth in one person. I’m hoping after setting up my center to be able to give more. I want to work for what I make, and there’s no reason Isaak and I shouldn’t be able to live well off of our salaries. He’s not the kind to take a handout, though he has allowed me to invest in his company to help it get off the ground quicker. What could be a more solid investment than his future? I argued. The stubborn man still didn’t accept until we found out I was pregnant.
I only realize where Isaak’s taking me when he stops in front of the swing.
It’s obviously sanitized between every use, but he both sanitizes it again and puts one of the velvet casings over the seat you can purchase for an extra hundred bucks.
I just shake my head, knowing better than to protest. I learned that lesson a couple months ago, and had a red ass for days afterwards. Moira was so delighted when we went out for coffee the next day and I could barely sit down. She had a special pillow in her car she brought out for me—she always carries it around with her for just such occasions.
After covering the swing, Isaak guides me by my tied hands to sit down, then he straps my legs in.
“Be back in a minute,” he says and kisses me on the forehead.
It’d be a sweet gesture if I wasn’t squirming in a sex swing with on-lookers gathering. There are definitely some fetishists who get off on watching a pregnant woman in a BDSM club. I’m only starting to show, but still. I think I might be a very popular attraction the next few months. I feel giddy just thinking about it.
Lucky bitch. Everybody’s gonna watch you get creamed .
That’s right. They are. I grin, loving that I get to give into some of my dirtiest thoughts. What’s wrong gets to be so, so right when I’m with Isaak.
He keeps his word and returns within sixty seconds. And he’s holding the wireless microphone that’s usually at the front of the stage.
“Now,” he says in his low, growly sex voice, “what was it you did this morning before I was quite awake yet?” He glances around the crowd. “I’ve told her she’s welcome to wake me up this way any time she likes. Today she took me up on the offer.”
He puts the mic in my face as he tugs his shirt off with he other hand.
Appreciative comments sound across the club as people start to realize we’re about to put on a scene and that Isaak is a damn fine specimen.
My cheeks flame with heat as more and more folks wander over to watch as Isaak switches the mic to his other hand and slings his black shirt off into the crowd with a little, “ Whoop! ”
There are definitely audible cheers at this.
“Come on, little lady,” Isaak says, hamming it up for the crowd. If he wasn’t going all in on the security business, I’d have said he’d be perfect for the La Bare stage, the best all-male dancer entertainment bar in Dallas. Though I suppose I might get jealous if he was giving lap dances to other women all night.
When he glides his hips back and forth as he walks closer to me again with the microphone, oh yes, I am glad I’m the only gal in Texas who gets to have him in her lap.
He leans in and, with that deep voice of his speaks right into the microphone as he pierces my eyes with his own. “Tell them exactly what you did when you woke up this morning and found my hard-on pressed against your ass.”
I suck in an audible little gasp that echoes through the mic to speakers all throughout the room.
“I wanted to get fucked,” I whisper. “So I crawled down underneath the covers. Your cock was punched through between the buttons of your boxers. So I could just grab it.”
Isaak pulls the mic back and he starts running a feather up my inner thigh. Fuck. Where’d he get that?
“Did you grab it with your hand?” he asks.
“N— No,” I stutter, tickled and turned on by the feather. And by recounting my sexual exploits to a room full of strangers and friends.
Even Bane has Moira twisted this way, one hand at her throat, vibrator held just out of touch of her clit, making her listen.
Oh my god. It’s one thing watching my friend have sex all the time. But having it reversed so she’s going to watch me ?
“What’d you do?” Isaak demands into the mic before putting it back in my face.
“I took your cock in my mouth. I wanted you to wake up with me already sucking you off.”
“Fuck right you did. And did I wake up right away?”
I gulp, forcing myself to look around as Isaak unzips his pants and steps between my legs. I’m so fucking embarrassed but at the same twisted fucking time, I love it. And when Isaak’s cock rubs between the lips of my pussy, I’m instantly drenched for him.
“What’d you do?” he demands, his own breath short like it always gets whenever his cock is anywhere near my sex.
“I swallowed you down my throat.”
“Was that easy?”
“It’s never easy with you,” I whine as just the tip of him dips inside me, stretching me. “You’re so big. Do they see how big you are?”
“Do you want me to show them?”
I don’t want him to move away from me, but yes, I do want them to see. Both because I’m so proud of my fucking man. And because I myself have been fascinated to see a man as big as him, and I want anyone else who was as curious as I was to be able to see. To look but not touch. My sex clenches just at the thought. Because I get to look and touch.
“Show them.”
He turns profile to me, stroking his huge horse-cock. This gets both men and women murmuring, and I fucking love it.
You dirty whore .
Yes. Yes I am. Dirty whore. Dirty whore. Dirty whore .
“I swallowed you down my throat because I’m a dirty whore,” I say into the microphone, “and I wanted you to wake up to shocking pleasure.”
“I certainly fucking did,” Isaak growls into the mic, turning back to me with his cock poised at my entrance again. “I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I woke up right as you were squeezing my balls and I was coming down your fucking throat. I yanked the sheets back to see I was fucking your gorgeous face. My cum was dribbling out of your mouth but you’d drunk the rest of me down.”
“I couldn’t bear losing a fucking bit of you. So I licked up every drop.”
“That’s fucking right you did.”
He pulls me to him by the strong ropes holding the swing. Then he hefts my leg up to his shoulder so everyone can see as he thrusts slowly inside me.
“Fuck you feel so good,” he whispers gently, just for me.
But then he brings the mic back up. “Let them hear what noises you make for me.”
I want to shake my head. That’s going a bit far. Recounting past sexual fantasies is one thing. But he knows this is what turns me on the most even though it’s the most difficult. Letting people see me vulnerable as he gets me off while they’re watching.
Because then he drops his wicked little thumb down and pinches my clit between it and his huge cock penetrating me. I’m such a fucking hair-trigger lately with these goddamn pregnancy hormones, I immediately begin to shudder. And even though I try to keep it in, a little high-pitched squeak ekes out of my throat.
Isaak grins, loving seeing me lose it as much as I have started to when we play here.
“What was that?” He strokes me deeper with his cock, nudging my g-spot in a way that makes my head fall back with a deep moan. He makes sure to catch the noise with the mic and I hear myself echoing all throughout the club.
“Fuck, she’s a hot one,” I hear someone comment, right as Isaak growls, “You’re so fuckin’ tight, Red.”
My belly spasms, clenching all around Isaak in a way that’s got him groaning.
He drops the mic so he can tweak one of my nipples, driving my pleasure higher.
“Oh fuck, Isaak.”
I fight the bonds tying my hands behind my back. I want to grab hold of him. But he just reaches behind my back and catches my wrists again, holding me suspended while he fucks me. He doesn’t go fast or hard.
He’s adopted this tortuously slow method of fucking me ever since I told him about the baby. The doctor said I was fine to have sex like normal as long as it’s nothing too rough and no breath-play. But Isaak’s determined to play his way.
The girth of his shaft is plenty. It’s only three more slow thrusts before I start to come around his huge tree-trunk cock.
His big arms surround me, one holding my wrists, the other clenching my ponytail at the base of my neck as I shudder and come all over his cock.
“Another,” he demands, continuing his ruthless thrusts. “I want them to see how many times you come on my giant cock.”
“Oh, Isaak, I’m going to—” But then I can’t speak any more because I’m coming again, the first orgasm riding up into a second.
“That’s right.” He lets go of my wrists for just a moment to spank me lightly before grabbing me again.
Right as I’m still in the middle of whole-body shakes from my second orgasm, Isaak pulls out and flips me around in the swing, catching me by my ankles and stepping into me from behind. I’ve only been in the swing once before but I’m still shocked by the dexterity and availability of different positions the swing offers.
He’s stepped back into me and is fucking me from behind, his long cock sliding easily back into my cunt and hitting all sorts of new spots from the new position. He can also easily pin my wrists with his body this way, leaving his hands free to pluck at my breasts and tease my clit.
He really starts rubbing me as he fucks me, massaging my now swollen clit deeply with his palm.
I scream in pleasure. I don’t need the mic anymore for people to hear me.
And Isaak holds me by one breast and my clit as he rocks me back and forth on his thrusting cock.
“Look to your left,” Isaak whispers in my ear, pinching my nipple hard right as I obey and tilt my head to the left. Just in time to see Moira spasming in a silent scream as she’s pinned between Bane fucking her cunt and Gemini fucking her ass with a strap-on, all the while Jinx sucks her toes.
An open-mouthed crowd looks back and forth between the two of us.
Isaak puts massaging pressure on my clit and lets go of my twisted nipple. I scream, rocketed higher than the entire night as Moira and I come in unison, only moments before Isaak and Bane lose their loads inside us.
That night when we get home, I fall asleep in bed against Isaak’s chest, and again he sleeps nightmare free.