Expecting it All (Punishment Pit #7) - Livia Grant Page 0,3

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 present 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.

I'm not his little anymore, am I?

Not only had the pregnancy changed her body, it had irrevocably changed her marriage. Her husband could no longer treat her like his baby girl. And, like it or not, she was going to be a mother soon. There was no do-over. She could no longer pretend to be a baby when her son needed a mother.

Tears filled Rachel's eyes as she realized how much trouble her marriage was in. She wanted to look away but she sat mesmerized, forcing herself to watch as her husband punished another woman the way he could no longer punish her—long and hard. The heavy paddle struck Trixie's ass repeatedly, turning it a deep crimson.

When he changed position, she wasn't surprised to see Derek's hard cock straining for release, outlined perfectly for all to see through his tight black leather pants.

The next sob Rachel heard was her own. She shouldn't have come. She should have stayed home, waiting patiently for Derek to come home to her, blissfully oblivious to the additional threats to her marriage.

But she hadn't stayed home, and she couldn't un-see the scene playing out in front of her. Even if she could, she wouldn't undo her pregnancy. She loved the son growing inside her with all of her heart. So where did that leave her?

"Rachel, are you feeling okay? Do you need