Expecting Surrender (Dominion Trust Book 3)

by Trent Evans

  You’re not thinking about this right now, Kirsten.

  “I’ll do it.” Kirsten flipped a lock of hair off of her forehead, her fingers trembling against her skin. “But there’s something else I wanted to ask. Away from Keihl.”

  Tom’s eyebrow raised, but he let her talk.

  “What is what you two have? Is it a marriage? Is this just swinging? What?”

  “Sharon’s my wife. But she’s a lot more than that.”

  “For instance?”

  “She’s my slave.” His gaze met Kirsten’s, a frisson of unease traveling down her spine. “I own her. Utterly and completely.”

  “Is that why you’d tell Keihl to take her upstairs and… “

  “Use her?”

  The term was like a slap to her face… but one that made her clit throb too.

  What the fuck, Kirsten?

  “Yes — use her. Why?”

  “Because she gets off on it — and so do I.”

  “You do?”

  The idea of a man enjoying giving his wife — his slave — to another man… it just didn’t quite compute for her. She understood — at least in the sense of being submissive — how it could be a turn-on for the woman. How many women wish they could be with more than one man? It was more than a few, she had no doubt.

  “Besides, she’s used to it.” He sat back on the chair, the wood creaking. “She’d do it even if she didn’t like it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I told her to.”

  There was so much for her to think about, to chew on she found herself almost tongue-tied, unsure what to say next. She needed to change the subject.

  “There is something else. Keihl’s talked about it.”

  “The Trust, right?” Tom nodded. “It’s okay — I knew there’d be a time when we’d need to talk about it.

  “What… is it?”

  She still wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t a front for organized crime or drug running. It was just too mysterious to be anything actually, well, good. But to listen to Sharon talk about it, the Trust seemed to be something the woman greatly valued. In past conversations with Sharon, as the conversation turned to kink, mention of the Dominion Trust, along with a subtle curving of the blonde woman’s lips wouldn’t be far behind.

  “Easier to show you than try to explain all of it,” Tom said, standing up. “I’d love to show you two sometime, but I think you’ve had your limit of our ways for tonight.”

  Our ways?

  Kirsten gave him a reluctant little smile. “You’re probably right.”

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to learn about the Trust. She wanted to learn all she could, especially considering the role it seemed to play in both Tom’s and Sharon’s lives. But now, fatigue — both mental and physical — was settling over her like a veil. There’d been so much tonight, so many revelations. All of that didn’t matter much though — for what she really wanted to do was curl up in her husband’s arms, and sleep.

  “The important thing right now is that you take care of yourself, and the little one.” Tom helped her to stand. “The rest can come later.”

  She looked back toward the glass slider. Keihl and Sharon were having an animated conversation, Sharon gesturing with her hand, a glass of wine hanging between her fingers, Keihl rolling his eyes at her.

  “Any idea what’s going on in there?”

  Tom grimaced, his gaze flicking toward them. “I’m guessing she just found out Keihl’s a Seahawks fan. She thinks the Niners can do no wrong. Poor, misguided girl.”

  Kirsten giggled. “After tonight, football talk’s a relief.”

  Tom reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You did great tonight, Kirsten. It doesn’t have to be anything further — unless you want it to be.”

  “I’m not saying no — I’m just saying I’m not ready. At least not right now.”

  Kirsten sighed, gazing out at the night once more. She wasn’t sure she should say all that she’d been feeling, but she knew she had to tell someone.

  “Tom, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, the relaxed plane of his shoulders somehow putting her a little more at ease. He was comfortable around her, and in turn it helped her feel more comfortable too.

  “I—I like this.”

  Tom’s eyebrow arched, but he let her talk.

  “I mean, I like being pregnant. I like that it’s Keihl’s baby.” She felt heat at her cheeks, but she plowed ahead. “This is probably insane, but being pregnant makes me feel more… submissive toward him. I don’t even understand why, exactly.”

  Tom nodded, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not the first woman I’ve heard say something like that.”

  “I’m not?”

  It was a relief, and it also made her wonder just what the hell these other women were doing discussing something like that with their doctor.

  You mean like you’re doing right now?

  “But I’m… struggling. I have this need within me, and yet I’m — God, I sound like a fucking crazy person — feeling this incredibly strong protective urge within me too. Mama bear, right?”

  “Perfectly normal.” Tom tilted his head. “Biology’s a powerful thing. Bears aren’t the only species with fearsomely protective mothers.”

  “So this is just hormones then?”

  Tom shrugged. “It’s part of it, but I don’t believe it’s all of it — not with women like you.”

  “Women like me?”

  He pursed his lips. “Submissive ones.”

  “That’s what’s making this worse for me. Is it just coincidence that I’m pregnant and we’re also exploring…?”

  “The Game? That’s what you guys call it, right?”

  “Well, yes.” She laid a hand on her belly, the baby doing flips again. “Sometimes I think… maybe I’m a masochist or something.”

  “Why?”

  You need to stop here, idiot.

  “Is it weird to feel almost a sort of pride that it’s hard? I think of the pain I’m in sometimes, and it feels like a badge of honor or something. It’s not just enduring that pain for the baby, it’s enduring it… for him. Christ, I’m messed up.”

  “Nothing messed up about that in the least.” Tom stepped closer, taking her hand again. “But you need to give yourself a break, Kirsten. You think too much.”

  She winced. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.” She blew out a long breath, stroking her belly. “I just… I can’t talk about these feelings with Keihl.”

  Tom tipped his head toward the glass slider. “You’re afraid he’ll worry about you.”

  “Or institutionalize me.”

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so nervous having her feet up in the stirrups for an exam. Of course, the circumstances of the exam weren’t exactly routine either.

  Kirsten laid her head back, trying to calm her breathing, trying to process this experience, tying to ignore the mortifying arousal she felt. Tom’s method was rather… different, than she’d ever experienced before. He’d splayed her labia so wide it had felt as if the entire world could look at the vulnerable pink flesh of her pussy. Had his finger really slicked back the hood of her clit? Had that fingertip worked slowly up and down? Her hips sure thought so, and she’d bitten back a moan, until mercifully he’d finally relented, sparing her at least that one particular embarrassment. The thick finger in her bottom had stayed rather longer than she’d ever remembered from past pelvic exams. It hadn’t helped either when Keihl had asked Tom to be “extra thorough.”

  Tom moved in between her legs, inserting the cold speculum and opening her up, the absence of a sheet that would normally be spanning her legs both mortifying and strangely fascinating. Keihl’s hand stoked her hair, his presence next to her something she hadn’t expected either. When she’d heard Keihl ask Tom if he could be present for
the exam, she didn’t know if she felt elation or bright humiliation. Probably some off both.

  “Tom, I wanted to ask you something,” Keihl said, a finger stroking back and forth across her cheek.

  “Hang on a sec, Keihl.” Tom’s gray eyes locked with hers, his smiling face framed between the vee of Kirsten’s widely spread knees. “Okay, Kirsten, this might feel weird, or hurt just a little. Take a deep breath.”

  She felt his fingers palpate her swollen cervix, and she gasped. It felt good… which made her want to sink through the floor. She was positive Tom could see her cunt moistening at the attention, even in the clinical, sterile environment of a doctor’s exam room.

  “She looks great.” Tom sat up again, snapping off his gloves and turning out the bright heat of the overhead lamp. “No problems at all. What did you want to ask?”

  She pulled her feet at the straps of the stirrups. Unlike other exams, this time she’d had her feet bound to the stirrups. “Um, can we—”

  “Shh girl, let me talk to Tom.” Keihl patted her bulging belly.

  Damn it.

  “I want to keep fucking her, but I’m worried about hurting her. I can get, ah, enthusiastic. Are you sure it’s okay?”

  She thought her heart might stop. Had he really just said that?

  Tom sat back in his stool, his eyes betraying a moment of surprise. Then he grinned.

  “Well, I recommend you two continue to have sex as much as is comfortable all the way up to the due date.”

  “What about rough sex?”

  Kirsten covered her face with both hands.

  “Rough sex?” Tom paused, drumming his fingers absently on the table next to him. “As long as she’s not laying on her belly, or flat on her back, then, uh, rough sex is fine.”

  Keihl glanced down at her. “What about alternatives?”

  “Alternatives? It’s okay to keep having intercourse, Keihl. It’s good for her — and you. Unless I need to put you two on restriction toward the end, intercourse isn’t a problem at all.”

  She wanted to crawl under the sheet.

  “What about anal sex? If I want to fuck her ass. Hard. Will that hurt her?”

  Tom looked down a moment, pursing his lips. “You need to be careful with that, but yes, if it’s something you both enjoy, you can certainly do that without hurting her or the baby.”

  “What do you mean ‘be careful?’”

  “Keihl; please…” She craned her head back to look at him. “Do we really have to—”

  Tom continued as if she hadn’t even spoken. “E-coli is definitely dangerous to the baby, so you need to make sure to clean yourself and her — thoroughly — after anal sex. And for God’s sake, don’t touch or penetrate her with anything that’s been in her ass until you sanitize it. Even if you do sanitize it, I recommend you just not do that at all. Keep the two separate — in every way. Know what I mean?”

  She relaxed slightly at that, hoping — and yet not hoping — that Keihl would abstain from using her… there.

  Tom laid a hand on Kirsten’s thigh, and electricity crackled across her skin, her pelvic muscles tightening. He stroked her slowly as he talked.

  “Sharon and I — when she was pregnant — we used to set aside a day every week or two. Ass day, I guess you’d call it. She’d get fingers, plugs, cock — everything in her ass that day. But I didn’t so much as touch her cunt.”

  Kirsten flinched at his use of the word, even as it made her nipples tighten at the rawness of it, at the glint she saw in Tom’s gray eyes at the memory. Keihl’s hand tightened in her hair possessively as he listened.

  Tom continued. “Anyway, it kept her safe and it was a good practice in denial for her too. No orgasms for her on Ass Day, unless it came from anal stimulation.” Tom grinned. “She learned to adapt.”

  Holy shit.

  Would Keihl really do something like that? He seemed to take great pleasure in her orgasms. Would he like withholding them from her? It terrified her on some level, but it would’ve been a lie to deny the dark arousal it stirred within her, too.

  “Hmm, not a bad idea, actually.” Keihl’s finger tapped her cheek. “Not sure she’d be able to survive it though — she’s in heat almost continuously.”

  Kirsten covered her eyes with the crook of her arm.

  Tom chuckled. “The secret benefits of the second trimester. If more men realized it, there’d be a lot more women getting pregnant.”

  “I wish I’d known sooner,” Keihl murmured. “She’s incredible.”

  Her face still burned, but she smiled against her arm, his praise something he knew she could never resist, was always grateful for. Especially now that she was starting to feel like a beached whale.

  She peeked at him from under her arm.

  “She should be good to go on that front too, if you want to try it out.” Tom flipped open her file. “Yes, the only consideration would be hemorrhoids that can crop up at late term. But she’s clear on that front as well.” He caught her gaze. “Lucky girl.”

  Could this be more humiliating? She was certain this was not something most husbands discussed with the doctor in front of their pregnant wives.

  “Do you have any other questions?”

  “Yes, can I be untied now?”

  Both men looked at her as if she’d just grown a second head.

  “There is… one more thing,” Keihl said, his fingers combing through her hair in a way that, under any other circumstances, would’ve had her purring. “It — it might sound kind of weird though.”

  “Nothing’s weird — this is my job,” Tom said. “I’m here to help. You can be honest, it’s okay. Really.”

  “What, uh, what exactly do you do? With regard to the Trust?” Keihl’s fingers stilled in her hair.

  For a tense moment, she thought Keihl had overstepped some unspoken boundary. Then Tom laced his fingers around one knee, looking at both of them. “I’m a Prime of the Trust, and I’m charged with assisting with any of the… medical needs of the women that are involved in our way of life.”

  Keihl presented the tips of his fingers to her lips, and she kissed them, something she took an embarrassing pleasure in more and more often.

  “Our way of life? I know cryptic is your MO, but don’t you think we could, I don’t know, stop bullshitting each other?” Keihl smiled. “I’ve got my wife laid out here for your examination, doc. I’d say we’re entitled to you being direct for once.”

  Tom gave Keihl a rueful shake of his head. “Going to have to go a little on faith here, Keihl. I can tell you that the wives, and… other women of the Trust would come to me, or my team, for medical care. We understand their unique lifestyle, their specialized needs.”

  “Other women?” Kirsten’s voice was almost a rasp, and she cleared her throat. “Who are they?”

  Tom shrugged. “Some couples take women of their own.”

  “Women of their own?” Keihl pointed at Tom. “Care to explain that?”

  “Submissives or slaves, usually. Plus there are Wards of The Trust and those serving Terms of Service. All have medical care needs from time to time, as you might expect.”

  “Slaves?” Kirsten’s voice trembled as she spoke the word.

  Tom gave her a warm, indulgent smile. “All depends on their chosen dynamic. Whatever they choose, they can’t exactly just look up any doctor online and come strolling in with cane marks across their thighs and ‘Property Of’ tattoos across their mounds, can they?”

  “No, I guess not,” Kirsten whispered.

  What had they gotten themselves tangled up in here?

  “Are those all the questions you had?” Tom stood, setting the chart on the counter and washing his hands, looking back at them over his shoulder. “That was kind of a letdown on the weirdness meter.”

  “I’m assuming you’re going to explain what the fuck a — what was that — a Ward of the Trust and Term of Service, actually mean?”

  “When the time comes,” Tom said, dryin
g his hands. “Patience. Anything else? If not, we can probably get your lovely wife back into her clothes again.”

  Keihl sighed, glancing down at Kirsten for a moment. “I — I want to know what’s safe. To do with her.”

  Tom turned back toward them, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter. “With regard to what? Pain?”

  “Yes.”

  Jesus.

  “I don’t want you waling away on her with a cane and cat-o-nine tails — but I think you know that already.”

  “Honestly, I want to put her in a glass case with a big sign that says ‘Break only when her water does.’”

  Tom’s booming laughter echoed through the small room. “I think you’re doing just fine then.”

  “I don’t know though…”

  Keihl looked away, his hand absently stroking her upper arm. She took his hand in hers and squeezed.

  Tom’s voice sobered once more. “You want more, don’t you?”

  Keihl nodded. “And so does she.”

  Even as she blushed fiercely, she knew the truth of his words. She did want more — a lot more — and it scared the shit out of her. It gave her pause though to hear Keihl say it, to hear how much he was concerned for her safety, for the baby’s safety. The last thing she wanted was for him to worry he’d hurt her. His protectiveness just made her want him more, which confused things even further.

  “I recommend you put away the harsher implements for now. If you have to strap her, make it light — but whips, canes, and paddles, I’d hold off on completely. Spanking is fine throughout the pregnancy — unless she develops complications. That said, I recommend you lessen any impact play as third trimester begins. The baby is actually very safe in there… but it’s smart to be cautious.”

  “What else?”

  Kirsten looked up at Keihl. His gaze was bright, intent.

  “Be careful with her breasts from here on out,” Tom said. “Heavy nipple stimulation can cause the uterus to contract.”