by Livia Grant
“Sorry, but all I have time for before we leave is for me to light up this milky-white bottom with a few lashes that will remind you who you belong to as you’re sitting at the wedding.”
The flick of his belt as he pulled it out of his pants made Rachel twitch, but she didn’t break her prone position. He doubted she knew she did it, but her ass started wiggling enticingly, begging him to leave welts across her butt cheeks.
The sound of the belt cracking across her smooth skin was almost as satisfying as his wife’s moan. He had zero doubt he’d married a masochist as his second lash with the leather drew a satisfied sigh instead of a cry of pain.
God I’ve missed this so much.
The third lash of his belt landed perfectly across her sit spot. Knowing she’d be sitting in the uncomfortable chairs with the other attendees, he lined up the next two fast strokes across the same line, drawing her first real whimper of pain. Her bottom was pinking up nicely, but pink wouldn’t get the job done tonight. Just in case she might start to panic at being separated with their son overnight, Derek needed to make sure she had a tangible reminder of all of the fun they were going to have in their room at the end of the night.
He laid the leather belt across her ass an even dozen times before finally stopping. He ran his palm across her heated skin, satisfied with a few blotchy red spots that had just started to raise up with welts. If he had worried he’d pushed her too hard, her desperate mew as he lowered his fingers to slide through her sopping wet pussy reminded him of just how hard his wife loved to play.
With a final crack to her ass with his flat palm, Derek reached for a paper towel as he barked his next orders. “No more granny panties for you. I decided to pack you a pair of sexy thong undies in the bag near the door. Hold your dress up so I can admire your bare ass as you go over and find the panties. We wouldn’t want the plug to fall out in the middle of the wedding reception now, would we?”
Derek got impatient as his wife moved in slow motion as she inched towards the bag. He didn’t miss her sheepish glances over her shoulder in his direction.
“What? Are you going to argue with your Daddy?”
“No. It’s just…” her voice trailed off.
After a few second stand-off he barked, “Speak. What’s wrong little girl? Was I too easy on your fanny? You need a harder spanking to get you moving faster?”
Rachel shuffled her feet adorably, looking down at the floor. His mind raced trying to figure out what she was trying to say without words.
“I just thought… if I’m going to be your baby, shouldn’t I wear a diaper? I mean what happens if I have to go potty and you can’t take me to the little girl’s room?”
Derek’s heart ached with love for the adorable, sexy, woman in front of him. How had he got so damn lucky to find her? They really did need to go, but in a split second, he knew there was no way he could pass up a chance like this.
In a flash, he scooped up his giggling wife and rushed towards the stairs, taking them two at a time. He crashed into Rachel’s nursery, carrying her straight to the changing table, careful to pull her dress up high across her breasts, making sure he wouldn’t get any baby powder or lotion on the elegant outfit. He rummaged through the basket of products on the shelf below his wife to find the cream he was looking for. Careful not to let her see the tube, he instead grabbed one of the many oversized pacifiers from the nearby shelf and held it up to her lips.
“Open up for your binkie. I want you to keep this in your mouth until we arrive at the hotel and only then will you get to be a big girl and take it out, got it?”
She nodded, her eyes shining with the relief she always felt when she turned everything over to her husband. Only after she was sucking on her binkie did Derek squirt a glob of the cream out onto his right fingers before lifting Rachel’s legs up and over her chest, exposing her beautiful bare pussy and ass perfectly.
His fingers applied the white cream liberally between her folds, taking extra care to pinch her puffy clit to ensure plenty of cream would stay there. It was only as his hands moved lower to start rubbing the lotion into her already punished ass cheeks that her eyes widened with her first inkling of panic. He snatched her hand as she reached to take the pacifier out of her mouth.
“Bad girl. Daddy decided you needed your naughty girl cream today to keep reminding you who you belong to when I’m away from you.”
Rachel’s ass wiggled in her ineffectual attempt to stop the slow burn that had started across her pussy and punished ass courtesy of the heat-rub cream. “Just be glad I’m using the brand that has no scent. You wouldn’t want people asking you why you smell like Ben-gay now, would you?”
Before she could get her fingers to her body to try to wipe away the offending ointment, Derek pulled a diaper down from the stack on the shelf above her changing table. He made quick work of wrapping her warming parts up, securing the diaper snuggly, before reaching up to grab a few more nappies along with the cream. She’d be sleeping in a diaper and nothing else after being thoroughly fucked after the wedding reception.
Despite the sting the cream had to be delivering, he looked down into his wife’s eyes and recognized he hadn’t seen this same languid peace shining back at him since before Michael had been born. After rinsing his hands on one of the nearby wipes, he just couldn’t resist; he bent down to kiss her forehead, leaning in close to whisper, “I love you so much, Rach.”
She couldn’t speak with the binkie in her mouth, but she did the next best thing, throwing her arms around his neck and letting him lift and carry her downstairs, this time with her sitting on his hip, throwing her legs around him like a monkey, snuggling to burrow her face into the crook of his neck.
Fuck, I wish we could just stay home, but I think Lukus might not forgive me if we missed his wedding.
It took him a few minutes to grab up all of the items Rachel had brought down earlier and throw them into their overnight duffle bag. Only once he had the bag and his wife situated safely in their car did he make sure the back door to the house was locked. As they took off towards downtown, he made a wish that traffic would be light or Lukus might kick his ass good.
Chapter Eight
Derek
“I knew I forgot something. I meant to bring a flask with me,” Markus leaned in to share his regret with Derek and the other groomsmen. “Think I have time to run out to the lobby bar and grab us a round?”
Derek slapped the uncharacteristically silent groom, Lukus, on the back. “That’s up to Lukus. He’s looking a bit green around the gills. I’m not sure alcohol will help.”
The slap seemed to break the Master’s Master out of his trance. “No booze for me.” When no one said anything, he added. “I want to be sure I can remember every minute of the ceremony.”
Derek and Markus shared a dubious glance, but James commended their friend. “I see you’re taking my advice. I’ve never forgiven myself for letting you two yahoos con me into getting wasted the night before my own wedding. I’m lucky Mary didn’t strand me at the alter for smelling like a walking brewery on our wedding day.”
Markus chuckled. “Yeah, we were a bit younger and dumber way back then.”
“I’m not gonna fuck up this day for Tiff,” Lukus added just as Aiden, the fourth groomsman, joined their circle in the small room where the men waited for the ceremony to start.
“Too late. You’re the groom,” Tiffany’s brother jabbed with a grin on his face. The two men had gotten off to a bumpy start, but after Lukus had proven he’d risk his life to protect Aiden’s favorite sister, Aiden was now squarely on team Lukus.
Unfortunately, Tiffany’s father had joined them as well and the senior Mr. O’Sullivan was less a fan. “It’s not too late to back out, Mitchell. You can still salvage your bachelor status,” he added, his faint Irish accent coming through.
It was Aiden, not Lukus, who answered. “Give it a rest, Pa. Him leaving would break Tiffany’s heart, and anyway, we’re all going to g
et years of enjoyment watching her tame him. He just thinks he’s gonna wear the pants in their new family, but I’ve been around them enough to know she can more than hold her own.”
Aiden’s words were a rare compliment from the normally smart-ass Chicago cop.
Patrick O’Sullivan wasn’t done complaining. “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway since they don’t have the decency to get married in a church. It won’t really count getting married here in a hotel.”
The minister they’d hired to perform the ceremony arrived in time to set the elder O’Sullivan straight. “I can assure you Lukus and Tiffany will certainly be married at the end of the ceremony. With or without a church, I’m an ordained minister who has performed over one-hundred marriages. Now, the ladies are lining up out in the hall. Mr. O’Sullivan we need you to go out and join your daughter to walk her down the aisle. Lukus and Markus, you stay with me as we’re gonna head up to the front altar while your other three groomsmen join the bridesmaids to escort them, just like we rehearsed last night.”
Lukus looked a bit lost for a few seconds so Derek slapped him on the back. “You’ve got this.”
“You sure about that? Why do I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin?” his friend asked.
Derek grinned. “You remember that first weekend you met Tiffany?”
Markus was standing in their circle and groused. “I can’t believe you’re bringing that weekend up now.”
Derek ignored his complaint and kept talking. “Remember what you told me in the alley as Tiffany drove away that first time?”
Lukus shook his head. “Not really. I just remember how it felt like she’d knocked me on my ass.”
“That’s because she had. And that’s when you told me that you wanted it all. Everything that Markus, James, and I had. Marriage. Kids. The works.” Derek grinned. “Your other half is waiting for you. Let’s go make it official.”
The men took turns giving Lukus a shoulder-bump man-hug before separating to go two different directions. As the minister had indicated, the bridal procession was already lined up waiting to walk down the long flower-lined aisle just on the other side of the closed double doors.
Jack and Jill, Tiffany’s nephew and niece, were up front as the adorable ring-bearer and flower girl. Aiden joined his sister Connie next, and then James and Tiffany’s other sister Angelina were next in the procession. Derek detoured to walk back to the gorgeous bride, looking radiant in her flowing white gown.
“Wow, Lukus is one lucky man today. You look absolutely radiant, Tiffany.”
“Thanks Derek. I’m just so anxious to see Lukus.”
“Just a few more minutes and then you’ll be Mrs. Mitchell.”
Tiffany’s father grumbled next to her, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Derek leaned in to place a kiss on Tiff’s cheek before turning to greet Brianna who was taking her matron-of-honor roll very seriously, making sure Tiffany’s flowers were absolutely perfect.
Finally, it was time to take his place next to the bridesmaid he’d be escorting down the aisle and also be sitting with at the head table.
“Hi Zoie, you look beautiful tonight. I bet you’re excited to finally be getting a sister.”
Derek had only met Lukus’s younger sister a couple times in the past. He’d always thought of her as a kid until she’d arrived at the rehearsal the night before, looking anything but childish. Somewhere over the last few years little Zoie Mitchell had turned into a gorgeous young woman, or she had been gorgeous up until he noticed the tears in her eyes.
Pulling one of the many tissues he’d pressed into his pocket out, handing one to her. “My wife always cries at weddings, too. I came prepared.”
Zoie took the hankie, dabbing at her eyes just as the double doors opened and the processional music wafted in from the ballroom where the groom and all the guests waited. Derek held out his bent arm, “You ready to do this?”
She smiled, placing her hand through his arm at the elbow. “You bet I am.”
They waited a few minutes for the signal to begin their walk down the aisle, and it was just before they took their first steps that Zoie leaned in and added, “After the ceremony, I really need to talk to you about the job you and Lukus have open for an accountant. I need your help convincing him I’m the best person for the job.”
Lukus had warned him. They’d been dodging her questions, knowing that having Lukus’s twenty-two-year-old sister hanging around the Punishment Pit was a terrible idea. But, it seemed like Zoie wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Luckily, he was saved from chatting by stepping out onto the long white carpet leading to the altar.
This is going to be a long night.
Rachel
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the minister announced as whoops and hollers from the crowd of family and friends started. Rachel grabbed her last tissue from her tiny purse, dabbing at her happy tears as she watched Master Lukus pull his new bride into his arms for an R-rated kiss that went on much longer than propriety called for.
Rachel’s heart swelled with happiness watching Lukus and Tiffany turn and grin at their family and friends, holding hands as they walked down the steps of the makeshift altar to head down the long aisle. She was on the end chair and reached out to pat Master Lukus’s arm as they went by, headed to the ballroom next door where the reception line would form and where all of the guests would head next for the party portion of the evening.
She’d just finished depositing her used tissues in her purse when her husband approached with Zoie Mitchell on his arm. The mischievous grin on her Daddy’s face told her exactly what he was thinking about as he pulled Zoie to a quick stop, just long enough to kiss Rachel and whisper, “I love you baby girl.”
“I love you more, Daddy. Now get going before you hold up the whole line.”
After the wedding party had exited, the crowd all started to chatter, anxious to move to the next room. They not-so-patiently waited for their turn to leave as the ushers, Tiffany’s brothers, let one row go at a time.
Behind her, Mary leaned in to whisper, “I’m ready for some food and dancing. It’s been weeks since James and I have had a night out without the kids.”
In a split second, sheer panic struck Rachel. She’d been so caught up in the wedding, she’d completely forgot about Michael. What kind of mother does that?
Mary must have seen the change on Rachel’s face because she was quick to reassure her. “Relax. I’m sure Michael is getting spoiled rotten at your in-law’s house.”
“But… what if he needs me?”
“Then they’ll call. You have your cell phone, right?”
Rachel rushed to open her tiny purse, taking out the largest object inside, her cell phone. Phew, no messages. Still, she turned the ringer back on now that the ceremony was over. She wouldn’t want to miss a call.
Feeling a bit foolish for worrying about her baby when her brain knew he was in loving hands, Rachel asked her friend. “Does it ever get easier leaving them? Like, I don’t know how women who have to go back to work after a few weeks can do it?”
“I know what you mean. I’m so lucky that I was able to stay home with the twins until they started pre-school. And… to answer your question… yes, it will get easier. Just wait until he starts to talk back and do the exact opposite of what you tell him to do. Those are the days you’ll be thrilled to be able to drop him off at your parents for a few hours.”
Rachel didn’t think that would ever be true, but then thinking about how much fun her and her Daddy already had today when Michael wasn’t around, she had to admit her marriage would benefit from Michael enjoying a few sleepovers at his grandparent’s every now and then.
By the time Rachel and Mary made it through the receiving line, the party was in full swing. The DJ had romantic songs playing softly in the background as waiters and waitresses mingled with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.
Rachel and Mary found their assigned table, jus
t a few feet away from the head table. She wasn’t surprised to find Grey and Violet Greystone already seated next to Mistress Martha, who welcomed them with her typical flare.
“Welcome to the naughty table! Once again, they’ve put all us sexual deviants at the same table, as if we might not be able to make normal dinner conversation with the vanillas.”
“Knock it off, Martha,” Grey, the only Dom at the table interjected. “You know damn well they put us together because we’re friends.”
Just as he finished his sentence, Aiden’s best friend and partner from the police force, Josh, walked up to the table.
“Hey, score! Looks like I’m moving up in the world, getting seated with the fun crowd.”
Mistress Martha, who had obviously never met the handsome cop, pulled the chair out next to her and with a shit-eating grin on her face, patted the chair, and welcomed the newcomer. “What a nice surprise.” Josh had just moved into motion to take a seat next to Mistress Martha when she finished her thought. “I’m gonna have to thank Lukus and Tiffany for providing me with some boy-toy entertainment tonight. I’ve been waiting to find a nice submissive young man to play with.”
Josh froze, mid-sit, until the whole table burst out laughing. He did finish sitting, but Rachel noticed him scooting his chair a few inches away from Martha in an attempt to put some distance between them as Grey finally filled in their new friend.
“Don’t worry. Mistress Martha talks big, but she’s turning into a softy.”
“Hey, I resent that. Just because I’m a little out of practice doesn’t mean I’m going soft.”
Having always been scared of the crusty old Domme, Rachel actually agreed with Master Grey. Martha had mellowed. Still, she wasn’t going to say that out loud.
Josh proved he was able to handle her on his own. “Yeah, well I may not have officially joined The Pit yet, but I can assure you, I’ll be on the Dom side of the equation, not the submissive.”