Knocked Up by the Master: A BDSM Secret Baby Romance

by Penelope Bloom

  “A lot? No,” he says, but there’s no tone of boasting in his voice. “But I had begun to lose hope I would ever find what I was looking for. Until you.”

  I turn on my side slightly so I can look up at him. He’s still completely naked, but he wears his nudity in a way that looks so natural it’s hardly fair, like he was carved by a sculptor until every little detail was pure perfection in motion. He quirks an eyebrow at me.

  “I want to know you,” I say. “You,” I add, poking his chest. “Not the ‘Master’ or any of that. I mean, do you even have hobbies? What would we do together if we weren’t doing… this?”

  He pushes my shoulder with just enough force to push me back down to the bed so he can continue massaging me. “I have hobbies,” he says. “I like to do all sorts of things, actually.”

  “Such as?” I ask with a hint of a tease in my voice.

  “I guess you’ll have to let me take you on a few more dates. Maybe I’ll give into your interrogation eventually.”

  I roll my eyes, but can’t be entirely annoyed. I don’t know if it’s just the chemicals still in my system from the sex, but I’m feeling the beginnings of something dangerous forming inside me--something very close to a connection with Leo, other than the obvious biological connection of the baby he put in my belly.

  There’s a pause before he speaks again. “Was everything normal with the baby?”

  The question takes me off guard, even though it shouldn’t. He has to suspect it’s his. Honestly, he probably knows, but he doesn’t want to make it awkward for me by calling me on my bluff. I nearly blurt the truth right now, but something in me stops it from coming out. “Everything was good. I’m not going to find out the gender ahead of time, I don’t think,” I add.

  “Good,” he says firmly. “That’s good.”

  The silence that follows is full of unspoken words that hang between us, but his hands don’t stop massaging me, and it’s not long before the comfortable pressure of his touch lulls me to sleep.

  10

  Leo

  I walk through the front doors of the Beaumont with one thing on my mind. My pet. She told me after our little session last night that she couldn’t see me until tonight because she had to work. Luckily for her, I had some work that couldn’t be avoided this morning, or I would’ve made sure she had the least productive shift of her career.

  I just had her last night, but there are so many ways I still want to make her cum, so much I want to share with her. More than that though, I find myself wanting to just be with her. There’s a calm that comes over me when I’m near her. I’ve always carried the dark desires in my heart like a burden along with the pain of my past. A degree of guilt comes along with the desire to punish and to demand submission. At times, I’ve wondered if I could even cum if I was just having everyday, run-of-the-mill sex. But with Lysa?

  I know I could. I’m not a man who has known the taste of fear many times in my life, but in a way, Lysa scares me. She scares me because I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Nothing. I’d throw away the collar I have waiting for her, I’d give up my memberships to all the BDSM clubs, I’d put away the paddles and whips. I’d do it for her. Although, after last night, I have a feeling she’s not going to make me do that.

  Even the slightest memory of last night makes my cock stiffen. She was so perfect. So willing.

  She told me she’d be with her mom, so I head up to Mrs. Ross’ room. I let myself in with the master key and find a woman lying in bed beneath her blankets who’s watching me with skeptical eyes.

  I glance around quickly, trying to find any sign of Lysa, and realize I must’ve beaten her here.

  “You’ve got some balls to come face me by yourself,” she says in a voice that sends a chill down my spine. I can almost imagine she has a loaded gun under the blanket that covers her up to her neck from the threat in her voice.

  “Lysa asked me to come, Mrs. Ross,” I say.

  “She just asked you to come, so you did? Is that how the kids are doing it these days? Back in my day we knew how to screw.” She holds up one hand in the shape of an “O” and inserts her index finger into it a few times, as if I need more than one demonstration to get her meaning.

  I’m too shocked to do anything but raise my eyebrows and stand there like an idiot with my mouth open.

  She barks out a hoarse cackle that sounds equal parts crazy and wholesome. “Oh get your panties out of that twist, handsome. I’m messing with you,” she wheezes.

  I flash a confused smile and wonder briefly if I could get away with just slipping slowly out of the room until Lysa arrives. From the way Lysa is so reserved and put together, I was picturing her mom being a matronly woman--maybe even over-the-top classy. I didn’t expect… I don’t know what I’d call her. She’s like a female Rodney Dangerfield, only twice as raunchy and with a healthy dose of frightening mixed in for good measure.

  “I can see why she’s interested in you,” she says, nodding and sounding suddenly calm, which is almost as alarming as when she sounds crazy, because now it seems like she can turn it off and on at will. “I’ve known men like you… Hard men. My baby is strong, but she’s gentle. What do you want with her?”

  I look over my shoulder toward the door. I feel a creeping suspicion that Lysa set me up. Maybe she wanted to test me by throwing me in here by myself against her mom. She probably wants to know if I can make it out alive.

  I nearly sigh with relief when the door opens again, but instead of Lysa, two women enter the room with looks on their faces I don’t like at all. One of them wears an elegant dress and has sleepy eyes with the mannerisms of a prowling cat. The other is wearing leggings and a long t-shirt with an open back. She walks like an athlete, and has the short hair to complete the look. I narrow my eyes at them as they come in and give the woman on the bed hugs before they turn their attention on me.

  “What is this?” I ask in disbelief. “An intervention?”

  The one with the sleepy eyes shrugs. “Call it what you want. We’re just trying to protect our friend.”

  “Does she know you’re here?” I ask.

  “Nope,” says the sporty one. She holds up a white card with Lysa’s picture on it. “And this is her bus pass, so she’s probably going to be a little late getting here to meet you.”

  I clench my jaw and fists. If they knew how hard it has been to even make it through the day without my pet, they would know how dangerous it is to keep her from me, even for a little while. Not only that, but they left her stranded without her bus pass and no way to get here.

  “Your names?” I ask.

  They seem a little taken back by my turning the tables on them, but I want to make sure I know who I’m talking to, and who to blame for standing in my way.

  “Tessa,” says the athletic one.

  “Hailey,” says the one in the dress.

  “You might as well just call me trouble,” says Lysa’s mom. “Because that’s all you’re going to get from me.”

  As pissed as I am, I can’t help but grinning along with Tessa and Hailey at that. Even though I couldn’t see how Lysa came from a woman like this at first, I think I’m starting to see it. I think back to the way Lysa has defied me even in moments when I thought she must surely be at the edge of her comfort and frightened, at how she fought to hold on to control… She got the heart of a fighter from her mother.

  “Well, Trouble, Tessa, and Hailey. I don’t approve of the way you misled Lysa. I don’t appreciate being delayed, either, but if you thought this was going to scare me off, you’re unfortunately in for an unpleasant surprise.”

  Tessa folds her arms and regards me coolly. “What do you want with Lysa?”

  “Maybe you should give her more credit,” I say. “You ask that like it’s unbelievable that I’d be interested in her. Lysa’s strong. Stronger than most probably give her credit for, but her strength is protecting something deeper inside her that’s so delicate--so pure and innocent that
it has to be treasured. I don’t just want to be with her, to have her and protect her. I want to be her shield from the world, to make sure that gem of purity at her core is never compromised, that nothing can ever corrupt it.”

  Tessa and Hailey both look somewhat convinced, but Lysa’s mother is still watching me skeptically.

  “Nice speech, biceps,” she says lazily. “But it sounds like we’re worried about the same thing, except you don’t seem to realize you could be the thing that corrupts her.”

  “Never,” I say flatly. “I’ll never mistreat her. Never.”

  I must not have heard the door open, because Lysa’s voice comes from behind me, startling me. “What’s going on?” she asks.

  Tessa and Hailey exchange nervous glances.

  Lysa steps up to my side, breathless and glistening with sweat. “Is that my bus pass?” she snaps at Tessa, who guiltily extends it for Lysa to take. “What the hell?”

  “Sorry, Lysa,” says Hailey. “We were trying to see if he was trustworthy.”

  “Did you think that maybe I could decide that for myself?” she asks.

  I feel like a fly on the wall as the women’s attention all seems to shift from me, but right now I’m not going to complain. I can handle Tessa and Hailey, but Lysa’s mom isn’t a woman to be trifled with.

  “You’re too kind,” says Lysa’s mom. “Your friends are just worried you might get manipulated.”

  Lysa closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I can practically feel her at the edge of her patience, like an explosion is waiting.

  “No,” she says softly, opening her eyes. “I’m tired of being treated like a child one minute and then having the responsibilities of an adult thrust into my lap the next. I take care of everything by myself and I never slip up. I do it all without any help, too. But when it comes to my personal life, suddenly I’m a helpless child and you have to go behind my back to make sure I’m making good decisions?”

  “It’s not like that,” says Hailey. “We--”

  “No,” Lysa cuts her off. “I know you mean the best, and I appreciate what you were trying to do--I really do--but you all need to understand that I’m making my own decisions. I’m the one in charge of my own life, and right now, I’m choosing to be with Leo.”

  A little shock wave of surprise flows through me. That’s news to me. Good news, but she hasn’t exactly been the poster-child for communication so far.

  “He’s good to me. He cares about me. And--” she hesitates. For a moment, it looks like she’s going to just shake her head and drop it, but a fiery kind of determination comes into her face. “And I’m pregnant with his baby.”

  There’s a clatter when Lysa’s mom drops her coffee mug. Hailey and Tessa’s jaws drop too.

  I might have been almost certain the baby was mine, but her confirmation hits me like a ton of bricks. Even the vague doubt I felt was enough to make me withhold hope that the baby could be mine. I don’t remember moving, but I’ve apparently wrapped Lysa in my arms and I’m spinning her around as I hug her tightly, kissing her neck and smiling like I haven’t in years.

  “It’s mine?” I ask.

  “Surprise,” she says feebly.

  I realize I’m holding her too tight and let go quickly, setting her back down. She gives me a nervous smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I just--”

  “You don’t need to explain,” I say. “You were only trying to protect the baby. Our baby,” I add.

  “Let me get this straight,” says Tessa. “You told me this morning you were seeing Mr. One Night Stand again today, but you’re pregnant… So when you guys hooked up…”

  “Well,” says Lysa’s mom with pursed lips and distant eyes. “I did tell you I wished you would get out there with men, Lysa, but you realize this wasn’t really what I meant, don’t you?” A smile creeps across her face though, and she looks up to her daughter. “I’m going to be a grandmother,” she says, smile widening.

  The next few minutes are surreal as everyone congratulates Lysa and seems to completely forget they were ready to hang me at the stake just a little while ago. Hailey and Lysa’s mom are still glaring at me from time to time, but Tessa seems to have already moved her focus to the baby. I barely notice. I find myself leaning against the far wall of the room, trying to wrap my head around it. Two days ago, I thought I was going to live the rest of my life in the anguish of knowing the perfect woman had slipped away from me. One day ago, I found out the woman of my dreams is pregnant, and it might or might not be mine. Today, I find out it’s my baby.

  I somehow manage to get Lysa alone once her friends have gone and I’ve exchanged some brief but strained pleasantries with her mother, who still clearly doesn’t plan to let me off the hook yet. I can’t say I blame her. No mother wants their daughter to get pregnant outside of marriage, but that little detail is just a formality as far as I’m concerned. There’s no way I’m going to let our baby come into this world before I’ve put a ring on Lysa’s finger. All I need to do is think of the proper way to make that happen.

  “I’m so sorry about that. All of it,” says Lysa once we’re alone in the common room on this floor.. It’s not completely private but there are very few people passing through, and right now we’re alone on the plush couch.

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m too excited right now to be pissed. Then again,” I say a little more softly. “I will gladly take any excuse you give me to punish you when I get you alone again. I figure this whole ordeal earned you quite the punishment.

  Her cheeks flush red. “I have to admit, I’m not sure how it’s supposed to work. How am I supposed to think of you as my Dom one minute and just Leo the next?”

  “I’ll always be your Dom, and your Master, if you accept me as that. But when we’re in public, you can call me Leo. You’ll know when to be on your best behavior and you’ll know when the rules are relaxed. Though I think you would enjoy being my slave in public, if you ever wanted to try.”

  She laughs a little and her cheeks grow even more red. “I don’t know about that.”

  “We have all the time in the world to find out.”

  “Do we?” she asks. I can tell from her tone she is feeling insecure.

  I frown. “What are you asking?”

  “I’m asking if you really mean it all. You’ve promised so much and I want to believe it so badly I don’t even know if I can trust myself anymore.”

  “Lysa,” I say as carefully as I can, making sure I have her complete attention by putting my fingertips to her cheek. “I don’t want you to say anything right now. I don’t need you to say anything. I just want you to listen, because I need to know you’ve heard me say this. Nod your head if you understand.”

  She nods, eyes wide and unblinking.

  “The way I feel about you transcends reason. It goes beyond good sense and logic. I’m not going to try to understand it or explain it to myself. But I need you to know there’s not a fucking thing on this earth that could keep me from having you. I’m going to be in your life, and in our baby’s life, come hell or high water.”

  She opens her mouth to speak but I silence her with a kiss. It’s a tender kiss. More gentle than I’ve given her before. It’s just enough to take her breath away and let me get a taste of her to sate my appetite. For now.

  “I don’t want you to respond,” I say. “I want you to give me one more night. Give me one more date to show you what life could be like if you were mine. You tried being my submissive and letting me be your Dom, now I want you to try letting me be your Master.”

  I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a small wooden case. I hadn’t planned to show her so soon, but seeing her doubt and insecurity makes me think maybe now is the time. I open it for her so she can see the collar I had made specifically for her. It’s a delicate silver chain of links that should fit snugly around her neck. There’s a heart-shaped lock at the front with the words, “My Pet,” followed by my initials, on the back. The lock is attached
to the chain by a loop big enough for me to fit a leash through if I ever wanted to, but all I want right now is for her to wear my collar. I want her to see what it feels like to be owned, to be mine in every imaginable way.

  “I want you to wear my collar,” I say, watching her reaction intently.

  Her eyes move from the collar to mine hesitantly, but she reaches for it. “How do I open it?” she asks.

  “You don’t. I do. Putting this on means something, though. Do you understand? It means you’re mine. I’ll only offer it once. Being my pet--my slave--it’s not something you’ll be able to take off and put back on like a jacket. It’s for life, or it’s never. You would need to submit to me totally and completely when we’re in private, unless I give you permission to do otherwise. Never in front of family or friends. Never in public, unless we’re in one of the clubs. Just you and me.”

  “What happens if I want to take it off? What if it’s too much?”

  “Then I’ll give you the key and that door will close.”

  She looks down at the collar again and her fingers twitch toward it, but she pulls her hand back. “So I can wait?” she asks. “To decide if I want to wear it, I mean.”

  I restrain myself from sighing in disappointment. “You can wait, yes. But not forever.”

  She breathes out and smiles. “I just need a little time. That’s all.”

  She can have time, but if she thinks I’m going to make it easy for her to wait, she’s wrong. I’ve done my best to be patient, to take my time explaining things to her and trying not to overwhelm her. But my patience has its limits, and I’m so near to the breaking point I don’t know how much longer I’ll last. It might be time for the gloves to come off, for me to show her in no uncertain terms that she wants everything I’m offering and more.