Chapter 3 #4
“Well—oh God, not again.” Jessica swiftly sat on the couch and held her hardening belly. Through gritted teeth, she added, “The pains are down to every two or three minutes.”
Anne pulled up her memory of when she’d helped with her niece and nephew’s births. Such frequent contractions meant active labor, right? Time for the midwife to get here.
She took the blonde’s hands in a firm grip and added a touch of command to her voice. “Look at me.” When Jessica’s eyes met hers, she said, “Inhale in through your nose, out through your mouth.”
As the pain increased, Anne said, “Light breathing now. In and out.”
Z’s subbie followed orders well.
After a long minute, Jessica sagged. “If Z wants another baby, he’s going to have to carry it.”
Anne smiled. Not much kept Jessica’s sense of humor down.
“It’s better with someone to help. Thank you.” Jessica gave her fingers a squeeze.
“My pleasure.”
“Uh, not really, right?” Jessica looked as if she were searching for the right diplomatic words. “We’re friends—and you don’t—won’t—enjoy watching me hurt, will you?”
“No.” Anne snorted. “First, although I’ve topped female submissives when needed, I don’t find any thrill from seeing a woman in pain. At all.”
“Well. That’s good. If that was first, is there a second?”
Anne frowned. She had put it like that, hadn’t she? Because there was more, she just wasn’t sure what. Exactly. “Do me a favor and don’t share this with your snoopy Master.”
“Girl stuff doesn’t get shared. He’s down with that.”
Girl stuff. Anne rarely thought of herself as a girl, but in all reality, she was only about five years older than Jessica. “I’ve noticed that inflicting pain isn’t as…satisfying…as it used to be.”
“Huh. Does that mean you need to hurt someone worse to get enjoyment out of it?”
“Actually, less. Which doesn’t make sense. Sadists usually escalate.”
“That’s why you broke up with Joey, isn’t it?”
Joey—her last slave and a masochist—had wanted more pain from her than she’d wanted to dispense. She’d given him what he needed, but ultimately that difference in their needs had been a major reason for their breakup. “You’re as perceptive as your Master, subbie,” Anne said lightly.
“Well.” Jessica stopped and groaned.
They breathed through another contraction.
After recovering, the blonde frowned. “If you want less—and for only one gender—then maybe it wasn’t the actual pain you enjoyed. Could it be you just have a taste for turning males into gelatin?”
“Undoubtedly.” Anne gave her a half-grin. Z loved how logical Jessica was. But…she might have a point. Perhaps that was why once she began to care for a slave, hurting him—for just pain’s sake, became more difficult.
Zachary found his control tested to its limits as he took Anne’s place on the couch.
The midwife, Fay, had arrived a few minutes before, just in time for what Anne said was the transitional stage.
Personally, Zachary considered this level a form of hell.
Seeing Jessica in that much pain—pain he couldn’t relieve—made him want to kill something.
The contractions were coming every two to three minutes and lasting… he could swear, forever.
For the first time, he was grateful his previous wife had borne their two sons by C-section.
God, Jessica.
He could see the moment when she wasn’t sure she could endure more—even before she announced, “I’m done now. I quit.”
“There is no quitting,” he murmured. “But each contraction gets you closer to the end.”
She actually glared at him. “That’s not helping. Damn you, you have children. Why’d you want more?”
“Jessica, you wanted children.”
“You’re so fucking wrong. I never—” The next contraction hit.
“Breathe, little one.”
“You breathe, you dickhead. How could you do this to me? You told me you weren’t a sadist, you fucking liar.” She dug her little fingernails into his forearm deep enough to draw blood. “You like pain? Does that feel good?”
Behind him, he heard a snort of laughter from Ben. “She’s gonna regret that later.”
Returning from the bedroom she’d been setting up, the midwife said with a smile, “Nope. Zachary agreed—as do all my clients—that what is said or done during the transitional stage is forgiven. No ifs, ands, or buts.”
Zachary pried his wife’s finger loose and didn’t give a damn if he was bleeding. She was shaking and shivering, and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms.
“Don’t touch me.” She batted his hands away. “I hate you.”
He winced at the anger and pain filling her to bursting, and felt completely, horribly helpless as she groaned her way through another contraction.
“Easy, Z,” Anne murmured and squeezed his shoulder, then passed a cooled hand towel to the midwife.
Fay set the cloth on Jessica’s forehead. “Do you want your husband to massage your back, honey? Or do you want to go onto all fours?”
“No, dammit, I just want it over.” Her voice lifted in a half-scream. “God fucking, cock-sucking shit damn piss.”
Even as Z’s shoulders tensed in sympathy, he couldn’t suppress the huff of laughter. He’d never heard her use such language.
“You…piss-ant shithead. This. Is. Not. Funny.” She went limp, gasping for air, sweat making her skin glow. Her emerald-sharp glare could have sliced through steel. “Your cock ever comes near me again and I’ll cut it off.”
“Now that’s just mean,” Ben muttered. “I think you’re getting competition in the cock torture department, Mistress Anne.”
Jessica, a formerly sweet wife turned demon, turned her glower toward the corner where Ben stood. “You…I liked you. I was wrong.”
The bulky shadow that was Ben seemed to shrink into the wall. He cleared his throat. “I’m going to just go…check on how the rain is falling and, yeah…”
As he left, Zachary glanced around. Anne had stayed. She gave him a firm nod that said she’d be available as needed. Her presence helped, but nothing could ease his fear. If anything went wrong, there would be no ambulance in time.
Jessica was already starting another contraction.
So much pain. Zachary curled his hand around hers, trying with all his might to lend her his strength.
When Jessica finally, finally, relaxed again, Fay asked, “You need to push, don’t you?”
Jessica nodded.
Fay said, “Let me assess how dilated you are. Then we’ll move to the bedroom where everything is set up.”
The examination resulted in more cursing from Jessica.
Fay announced, “You’ve reached ten centimeters. Let’s go.” She rose, taking Jessica’s underpants with her.
“Hey, I want my briefs on.” Jessica held her hand out.
“It’s time to leave them off, honey.”
“No. Put them back.” When Fay didn’t move, his beloved kitten turned her scowl to Zachary. “She’s being mean. Hurt her.”
“Easy, sweetheart. This will be over soon.” His sympathy earned him more fingernails digging into his wrist.
Fay grinned. “Now, Jessica, we both know you’ve gone without underwear before—or you wouldn’t need my services today.”
Damned if he didn’t feel guilty himself about his part in getting her pregnant. Before Jessica could respond, he swept her up. “To the bedroom.”
Even as he carried her, she went into another contraction, and he could feel her bearing down. “She’s pushing, Fay.”
“Good. It should go fast now.”
“God, this hurts!”
“I know, kitten, I know,” Zachary murmured.
Through a clenched jaw, she gritted out, “I know Masters are conceited, but by no stretch of the imagination are—you—God.”
He didn’t smother his chuckle adequately, and, as he set her on the bed, he barely managed to dodge her punch.
An hour later, having called Anne in to hold Jessica’s hands and support her shoulders, Zachary caught his baby as she exited the womb.
Blood-streaked with white vernix patches, her fair skin mottled, and a few wisps of blonde hair, she was the most beautiful little girl in the world.
As the midwife dealt with the umbilical cord, he could only stand and hold his child. So tiny and fragile. He’d forgotten how little they were upon arrival. How miraculous.
“Zachary?” Jessica called.
He had to blink the wetness from his eyes before he could carry his baby to her mother. “We have a girl, kitten. A perfect little girl.” Carefully, he set the baby in her arms and stole a kiss from his love. “Thank you for our daughter, Jessica.”
Her lips curved under his, and she whispered, “You’re very welcome, Master.”
A second later, the baby managed to find Jessica’s nipple, and she jerked slightly as the little girl latched on. “Whoa, and I thought nipple clamps were bad.”
“We have a girl.” Completely, thoroughly exhausted, Anne dropped down on the other end of the couch from Ben. She’d slipped out of the bedroom to give Z time with his newly enlarged family.
“Halleluiah,” Ben said quietly. “I’m glad you were here to help them.”
“Actually, so am I.” She half-grinned. “I think Marcus won the betting pool though.”
“I was way off, by a good two weeks.” To her surprise, Ben handed her a scone and a glass of milk. “I raided the kitchen and grabbed these for you. Consider it breakfast.”
She glanced at the windows and realized the sun was well up. “I had no idea. Thank you, Ben.” When she took the first bite, her hunger wakened, and she finished it all.
Smiling, he took the plate and glass, set it on the coffee table. “I checked on the roads. Everything is open again.” He pulled Anne’s legs onto his lap and started kneading her bare feet.
Heaven. She’d had her feet massaged by her slaves, sometimes one male per foot, but this was the first time a man had simply done it without being directed. He used firm, powerful pressure, nothing like the tentative touch of the boys.
And she was turning into a happy puddle. She slid down farther on the couch. “You’ll never know how good that feels.”
In the bright morning light, his forbidding features softened. Her approval apparently meant something to him, even outside of the dungeon. “Don’t know why you women wear fucked-up shoes that make your feet hurt.”