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From: tigger@alices.REMOVE.com
Subject: Story:  A Pregnant Domina Part 2/2 (Femdom, Fm, CD, Romance)
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The Pregnant Domina
by Tigger
revised copyright 1997

Part 2 of 2

The phone rang as I was putting the finishing touches on Markie's
subtle makeup for the night's class.  I answered it and it was
Mistress calling from her car phone.  She was running late and I
was to meet her at the curb.  This was new.  I would have to
wait, because she would not go if I wasn't there.  Another chance
for Markie to be out in the real world.  Damn, but she was good
at pushing my buttons, but she needed me now.  And I needed to be
with her.  It was that simple.  Leaving her would have been the
ultimate proof of my unworthiness as a man, in the best sense of
that word.  Taking care of her was all that mattered.

She met me at the curb, and pulled away before I even had my seat
belt fastened.  Driving was becoming difficult for her because
she had to sit so far from the wheel.  With her diminutive size,
she had trouble reaching the peddles and seeing over the
windshield.  Soon, I would have to chauffeur her around and that
ticked her off, too.  "We will stop at Tony's for a bite to eat
after class, Markie."   I saw her watching me out of the corner
of her eye, waiting for me to balk at this extension of Markie's
domain.  

I realized, to my surprise, that it did not bother me anymore.  I
pulled down the mirror on the visor and realized that I would
pass.  Mistress had taught me well.  I smiled and said "Whatever
you want, Mistress, so long as you follow Doctor's orders."  The
car gave a funny shimmy as she gaped at my acquiescence.  I just
smiled and enjoyed the rare feeling of having surprised Kyra.

Class and dinner went fine.  Mistress was starting to work harder
at her exercises and so that session went well.  Dinner was
punctuated by a return of my teasing, mischievous Mistress-love
as Kyra tried to get to me about being out in a public setting in
full drag, and how would it look for such an upstanding young
businessman if she were to give me away?  I gave her enough
reaction to keep the game going, but by now, I trusted her enough
to know she would not truly hurt me.  She'd sting me a good one,
but she would never do me lasting harm.

"Time to go, Markie.  You and I have a date with a paddle."  She
reminded me of the promised session.  I groaned, but rose to help
her stand and then follow her out to her car.  We never made it.

A large shadow appeared from behind her car and Mistress stopped
cold.  The shadow moved into the light of one of the street
lights and I recognized the man as one of the junior VP's at the
place where Mistress worked.  I recognized something else. 
Mistress was almost catatonic in fear.

"I have been looking for you, Kyra, ever since I got back to the
States today."  he said.  "You and I have business to complete
and then you are going to withdraw yourself from consideration
for the vice presidency."

He was big, this man, taller and much heavier than me, so he
towered over my diminutive Mistress.  But Kyra is a strong person
and she shook off the shock and color came back to her face. 
"You bastard, you complete, unmitigated son of a bitch," each
epithet was punctuated by a slap in the big man's face.  "You may
get away with what you did to me, but I will never step aside for
a slime like you."  Fury was etched in her every feature, her
breasts were heaving above her rotund tummy.  I had never seen a
more beautiful woman in my life.

Then he made a mistake.  He struck Mistress, knocking her down. 
His error was nearly fatal, because the next thing I knew,
Mistress was slapping ME in the face, while two strong men from
the restaurant held me forcibly away from the limp body of the
man who had hit Kyra.  From what I gathered after the fact,
sensei was not going to be pleased with me, because I had
evidently gone berserk and demolished the man.  "I'm okay, let me
go."  I said to the two men holding me.  Mistress nodded and the
men obeyed.  I walked over to the shuddering hulk on the ground. 
I grabbed his tie and pulled his face to mine.  Bleary eyes
opened to mine.  "If you EVER so much as breath in her vicinity
again, there won't be enough of you to bury.  Do you understand?" 
He nodded, and I dropped him back to the pavement.

"Hey,"  one of the bystanders said, "you're a guy!"

Slowly I turned toward the man who appeared to be ready to make a
spectacle of me.  I cocked an eyebrow at him and then looked back
to where the other man lay on the ground.  "So?"

Mistress interposed herself at this point. "He is my bodyguard. 
The other man has been stalking me, which is not against the law
in this state.  My guard disguised himself as a woman to try and
smoke him out for me."  She turned to me,  "I would like to go
home now, Mark."  I nodded and helped her into the passenger seat
of her car.  Ten minutes later, a very pissed off Mistress found
herself in the Emergency Room of the nearest hospital.

While I waited for her to be examined, one of the older nurses
brought me coffee and sat next to me in the waiting room.  "We're
pretty sure she is okay.  Just a bump and a bruise or two, but we
are waiting for the ob to finish with her before we send her
home."  I had repaired my make up after they had taken Mistress
away.  I'd had enough dealing with people seeing through me for
one night, but alas....  "You really are very good, you know.  So
subtle that you don't call attention to yourself, feminine enough
to pass the second or third look.  I assume she trains you?"  I
gave her my best blank, confused look.  She only laughed. 
"Sonny, I've been training boys to be girls for twenty five
years, and you slipped just a little when you first brought her
in."  This time, my look was real.  I had no mirror, but if the
heat in my cheeks was any indication, I was blushing fire engine
red.  "You were carrying her, silly.  Most women would not have
the confidence in their upper body strength to try that.  They
would have gotten us to send out some orderlies."  She smiled and
patted my hand.  "Not to worry, I'm the only one who noticed. 
Well, back to work.  She should be out in a few minutes."  She
grinned at me.  "And she is not happy."

I sighed.  So what else was new.  Come to think of it, Mistress
was probably getting some of her own back for bringing her here. 
She probably sent the nurse out to me just to embarrass me to
tears.  I relaxed a bit and smiled.  She wasn't too bad off if
her mind was working like that, and strangely, the little game
did not bother me as much as I had thought it would.  I strongly
suspected Mistress knew the woman.  Her own words about training
boys had the ring of truth.  So it was reasonable to believe they
knew each other and that my little secret was as safe with
Mistress's friend as I knew it was with Mistress.  She got to me,
all right - nearly scared the panties off me and embarrassed me
to my red polished toes, but it was not still bothering me. 
Mistress was taking care of me, even as she tested me, and that
was comforting me.  She was mad as hell at me, but she still had
not hurt me, not really.

The drive home was not fun.  Mistress did not look at me the
entire ride, just sat and stared stonily down the road.  I let
her in the house and she stalked off to her den.  I went to the
play room and got her paddles and brought them to her in the den. 
She was sitting in front of the gas fire place staring at the
dancing flames in the still dark room.  She heard me enter and
looked up at the paddles in my arms.  "Put them away, Markie. 
The doctor said no vigorous exercise for the next forty eight
hours, and Jean told me that meant no games."

I set the paddles down, and settled beside her chair.  "Jean, I
take it, Mistress, is the lady you sent out to test me?"  Her had
snapped around to me and her eyes and mouth made "O"s in
surprise.  Bingo.  I grinned at her, and for the first time I
since I met her, Mistress blushed.

I changed the subject.  "Are you really okay?  Is there anything
I should be doing?"  She shook her head.

"I just need to go to bed and get some rest."  I stood and helped
her out of her chair, and then turned down her bed while she got
ready for bed in the bathroom.  A squeal of surprise indicated
that she had found my surprise.  I had installed a toilet seat
with a six inch riser on it, designed for wheelchair patients so
she could get up by herself.  I hovered by the door to her room,
leaving when I heard her bathroom door shutting.

~----------~
eeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-
nnnnooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

The piercing scream brought me out of a sound sleep.  I was on my
feet before my mind was fully awake, moving toward Mistress's
room.  She was wide awake and shaking when I tore into her room
at a run,  "Kyra!  What is the matter?"  I was kneeling beside
her bed.

Her words came out in pants "Dream,"  she inhaled "A very bad
dream.  The rape, all over again."

My head shot up.  "Rape?"  The pitch of my voice going falsetto
in disbelief.  "Someone raped you?!!?"  

A cold, strangely rational rage washed over me.  Someone had
raped her.  Someone was going to die.  My voice became a whisper
as I strove to maintain control.  "Who raped you, Kyra?"  Not
giving her a chance to stop me, I moved to bed and pulled her
against me, holding her to me.

Her eyes were large, pupils dilated in shock.  I don't think she
would have told me if the shock didn't still hold her in its
sway.  The story came out in fits and starts.  The man who had
confronted her tonight, had raped her before leaving on an
overseas assignment.  When she threatened her with the cops, he
had produced evidence of her dominatrix sideline which he would
give to the press and the police if she pressed charges.  It was
doubtful, he said, if you could be charged with raping a whore. 
Mistress squeaked when my muscles contracted at that word.

After that, she had dismissed her stable because she no longer
felt capable of dealing with a scene.  The only things she did
after that were the scenes she pulled on me to try and get me to
leave.  A month after the rape, she discovered she was pregnant.

I let her talk, feeling helpless as all hell, until finally,
exhausted, she fell asleep again.  Not wanting her to wake up
alone again, I reached over to turn off the alarm, and settled in
for the night.

She did not go to work the next day.  I did get a very strange
look from her when she woke up to find me in her bed, and her in
my arms.  Later, I took her to her OB for a final checkup, and
then brought her back home.  She stayed in her den, staring at
the fire, and fighting demons alone.

I watched her and did some thinking of my own.  None of the
sessions she had put me through since trying to dismiss me had
been sexual or sexy.  They had been tough, strict, demanding,
even painful, as she had tried to make me leave.  She had not
even gotten off in any of them, and that was a sharp departure
from my previous experience with her.  Mistress ALWAYS got hers.
And to my knowledge, she had not had an orgasm since our
lovemaking those many months ago.  In my male ignorance, I
thought her pregnancy had reduced her pleasure in sex.  Now, I
suspected differently.  

The question was, how was I going to deal with what I thought was
going on.  Until that sonuvabitch had showed up, Mistress had
been more like her old self, wicked, teasing, laughing at me and
the world.  Was it Markie that had made the break through? 
Markie going out into the world?  I had some more thinking that
needed doing.

Mistress went to work the next day over my objections.  She was
not going to give that bastard the power to deprive her of her
work.  I admired her resolve as much as I inwardly railed at her
leaving where I could pamper and protect her.  In the end,
though, it gave me an idea of what might be help Mistress regain
her full powers.  A quick call to her doctor (who thought I was
the father), and another to her secretary, and I was ready to put
my plan into action.  I went to my room to get the things I would
need to pull this off.

The phone rang just as I finished laying the trail.  Her
secretary had called to tell me Mistress had just left work, and
also to wish me good luck.  What had Mistress told her?  On
another issue, when questioned, she told me that the man who had
raped Mistress was leaving the company immediately.  Some type of
financial misconduct, she said, but he was gone before lunch.  I
cursed under my breath, wanting to dismember him and knowing he
was beyond my reach.  I thanked her and hung up.  Just enough
time for my final preparations.

I heard the front door open and shut through the open hallway
door.  "Mark? ... Maaaarkkk?"  my name came out in two syllables. 
"Whatever in the world....?"  The questioning note in her voice
meant she had found the first of my trail markers.  I had left
all the bright, colorful lingerie that Mistress had bought for
Markie to form a trail for her to follow to me.  Confident now
that she would find me, I put the chain with the key around my
neck and reached up with my free hand to lock that wrist into the
cuff I had placed there.  I was now bound hand and foot, spread
eagled on the leather bench in our playroom.  The bench, about
four feet long and a little more than a foot wide, only stood a
couple of feet high off the floor.  My feet were cuffed to the
bottom of each of one set of legs, and my hands were cuffed
behind me to the legs on the other end of the bench.  My head
hung partially off the end of the bench.  

"Markieeee?"  Mistress voice was questioning and incredulous, not
believing the evidence of the trail.  As she approached the door,
my filmy peignoir hung from the edge of the door.

Taking a deep breath and mumbling a prayer that this would work,
I answered her.  "In here, Mistress."

The lights I had left off snapped on.  If I live to be a hundred,
I will never forget the look of absolute disbelief on Kyra's face
when she first saw me there on the bench.  I knew I made quite a
sight.

I had never dressed for her without being in some manner made to
do so.  The closest I had come to that was the negotiation that
had led to Markie, birth coach.  Now, I had done so, without any
coercion, and I had pulled out all the stops.

I was dressed in virgin's white, a white shortie nightgown, white
frilly panties, white garter belt and silky white stockings.  My
feet were shod in the white, very tall high heeled shoes that
Mistress had bought for me, that I still had not learned to walk
correctly in, but I wasn't walking now.  My makeup was still
subtle, but brighter than I normally wore when we went to class. 
Careful attention (and four face washings) had given me color I
would not have had without the magic of cosmetics.  A touch of
green and blue highlighted my eyes and my mouth was a much
brighter red than I had ever worn before.  In fact, I had been
forced to raid Mistress's make up kit to get the right shade.

Mistress scanned my bound form in absolute amazement, her eyes
suddenly scanning back to lock onto the reason for my hasty
search through her things.  Poking through the split crotch of
the panties was my cock, and wrapped around the base and around
my balls was a bright red satin ribbon that I had tied (again
multiple times) into a bright red bow.  I had tied it tightly
enough for the ribbon to act like a cockring, preventing John
Thomas from losing any erection that I hoped this little
interlude might bring about.

Her hands fell to the tray table near the head of the where I had
put her favorite toys, including her paddle, her strap, and
assorted toys for teasing my nipples and ass.  She finally looked
me in the eyes, confusion still coloring her face.  "Mark, I..I
mean, Markie, I don't understand. What is the meaning of this? 
You hate dress up, or at least, you try and make me think you do. 
And I didn't direct you to prepare a session.  I don't understand
this at all."  she repeated.

I started the speech I had been rehearsing all day.  "Mistress, I
love you, in every sense of that word, and with everything that
is me and is in me.  For the past few years, I have submitted to
you, not because I wanted to, but because it seemed to be the
only way to be near you.  I accepted some time ago, that with you
at least, I am truly a submissive, but I never shared that
revelation with you because you were not sharing that much of
yourself with me.  Then you made love to me, and I was ready to
make that final submission to you, but you dismissed me before I
could.  I have submitted to you these past few months to stay
close because you needed me.  I couldn't understand what was
going on, what I had done to make you try and send me away, but I
couldn't let you, so I took everything you dished out.

"Now, I think I have an inkling of what is going on, what has
prompted your withdrawal, why you will not even let me worship
you orally anymore.  That bastard took more than your body, and
in some way that I cannot fully understand because such an
outrage has never happened to me."  I groped for the words, found
some and hoped that they would be the right ones.

"It is almost as if, you no longer found yourself worthy because
you allowed yourself to be raped.  Well, that is bullshit,
Mistress!"  My voice took on a hard, commanding tone that put her
back up, and lift her head in an angry, haughty pose.  Good. 
"Well, I find you worthy, Mistress.  I love you, and I submit to
you because it is right and good and that is the way of it.

"This," and I lifted my head to scan my bound body in emphasis,
"is my statement of commitment to you.  I come to you, dressed,
as a bride comes to her wedding night.  I am yours, Mistress,
more than I was ever my own.  I love you."  I faltered, spent
from the emotion of the moment.

Mistress only continued to stare at me levelly.  Frankly, it
became damned disconcerting to watch her quietly watching me,
saying nothing.  I resisted the urge to squirm.  Finally, she
moved, her hand sliding down my chest and stomach to grip my cock
gently in her hand.  "And this, Markie?  What am I to make of
this, hmmmmm?"  Her voice was soft, cajoling, while her hand
gently massaged me to full erection.

I grinned at her.  "Well, Mistress, you have taken care of any
real virginity I had.  I put that there as a surrogate hymen, for
you to take as it pleases you, Mistress."  

She just stood there, idly fondling me, getting me harder, with
the strangest look on her face.  Now I was squirming, and not
from embarrassment!  A flush crept up her face, and she licked
her lips.  Then, I saw her eyes drop to her protuberant belly,
then frown.  Her hand left my cock and took the key from my neck,
reaching for the restraints on my wrist.  That was NOT what I
wanted out of this.

"Mistress, what are you doing?"  my tone almost pleading.  I
shook my hands to stop her from being able to fit the key to the
lock.

She gave me a sad smile, then kissed my cheek.  "This is
wonderful, Mark, you have made me very proud, but I can't do
anything with you, not looking like this."  Her hand fell to her
belly.

"No!" I was yelling, half in frustration, half in anticipation of
not finishing what I had started.  The shock of me yelling at her
brought her up short.  I calmed my voice.  "I do not know why you
seem to think you can't.  I checked.  The doctor said you are
still okay for lovemaking for another week at least, as long as
you are comfortable.  And you are gorgeous, Mistress.  I can't
imagine you being more feminine than you are right now."  It is
hard to leer like a horny, dirty old man when you've made your
face up to be as female as you possibly can, but I did try.  It
made Mistress laugh.  I sighed.  "And if it really bothers you,
being naked with me right now, I took care of that, too.  Look on
the table."  She did and picked up what I had left out for this,
a satin sleeping blindfold, also white.

"You really do want to do this?"  She sounded as if she could not
believe her own words.

"Oh, god, yes, Mistress.  I love you and it has been killing me
not to be able to give you pleasure."

A smile I had not seen in almost eight months was the last thing
I saw before the blindfold was fitted to my face.  Darn it!  I
figured she would use the blindfold, but had hoped she would not. 
My ears worked at trying to find her in the room, locating a
quiet rustling sound, and then a snapping sound followed by a
sigh of relief.  Two muffled thuds followed that I was fairly
sure were her shoes dropping to the floor.

Because I wore perfume myself, I could not catch her scent.  Then
a light, feathery finger stroke from knee to groin almost lifted
me off the bench.  Another finger stroked the other leg the same
way, then vanished from my senses.  I was harder than ever, the
satin keeping me firmly erect.  A soft chuckle registered and I
tried to place where she was, but could not.    A row of hard
points grazed a path from my navel to my breastbone, - her
fingernails?  Must be, I thought and if felt like she was
dragging them over the satiny fabric of my nightie, so that must
mean she was behind me.  My head lolled back from the intensity
of the feeling those fingers were causing me.  Never in a hundred
years would I thought such teasing of my breasts and nipples as
erotic.  My toes nearly curled in the hard leather of the shoes I
wore.

With my head hanging unsupported, off the bench, I felt something
tickle my nose.  It was so light, so subtle, that I almost missed
it.  I tried to lift my head to search it out, but my forehead
hit and bounced back from firm, warm flesh.  Legs?  The tickling
returned, and this time with the spicy, half forgotten scent of
the Mistress aroused.  Yet again, the feeling left and I was
alone. 

I heard the scrape of something being slid on the floor to some
point directly behind my lolling head.  The sound of metal moving
on metal, of something spinning harmonically behind my head.  Was
that the adjustable stool?  I heard a sigh of relief, the sound
of the scraping again, and then the sweet essence of Kyra was
with me again.  I tried to move, but was stopped this time by
strong, gentle hands gripping the sides of my face.

I was pulled firmly against the softly haired hot core of her
vulva.  She was hot, wet, silent.  Eagerly, I began kissing at
the skin and flesh I could see only with my mouth and tongue.  I
was completely disoriented from being upside down.  Normally, I
knelt in front of Mistress so that I was head up to her.  In this
position, her clitoris was beneath my chin, everything was
backwards and I could not see to adjust.

I used my mouth and tongue to "learn" her all over again.  I
tasted, savored, explored and titillated.  I slowly sank my
tongue into her, feeling involuntary little spasms trying to hold
me, drinking deep of her essential self.  I kept moving around,
trying to search out all the little buttons I used to find so
effortlessly.  When I found her clitoris, I then avoided further
direct contact with it, trying to drive her higher.  Instead, I
licked, kissed and worshiped my way all around it, sliding away
as best I could when Mistress would shift her weight slightly to
force more direct contact with her clit.  She would have to break
silence for me to do anything more before I was ready.  This had
been building for eight months, and I wanted it to be worth the
wait.

Mistress was trying to hide her full arousal from me, working to
be quiet, stoic, but I knew her too well and she was too wound
up.  I could feel her breathing change, felt the quivers of her
lower body as she strained not to give away her excitement. 
Finally, she gave up all together, moaning quietly and rolling
herself slowly against my face.

I was just about to move in for the final attack, when she left
me again, my tongue pointed and hanging out of my mouth in the
open air.  I felt a tug at my hip and the bow holding my panties
together came free, and cool air flooded my overheated groin.  I
felt the hem of my nightie lifted.  Satin settled on my face,
touching my nose and lips.  Mistress had flipped my nightie up
over my face.

Skin brushed against the outside of both of my stocking sheathed
legs simultaneously and then my cock was gripped in a hot, strong
hand.

Then, in one smooth move, I was completely inside of her. 
Helpless in the maelstrom of sensations, helpless in my self
imposed bondage, I was aware only of the silken steel grip on my
cock.  I let out a groan of sheer pleasure and frustration.  I
felt her round belly "roll" up my torso, as she leaned onto me. 
My nose was pinched tightly.  Knowing what was coming, I opened
my mouth to accept whatever she would offer.  A cloth mask filled
my mouth, sucking the moisture from my tongue.  Something
stringlike hung outside my mouth as I closed my lips over her
gag.  She had used my own panties.

Suddenly I felt her go rigid and felt her insides squeezing at my
cock.  High pitched squeals of pleasure and release came from
above my head, and I smiled inwardly.  Then the muscle
contractions signaling my own imminent release started, only to
be choked off by the satin ribbon.  I bucked in frustration,
trying to loose the ring and loose my load, but to no avail.  My
sharp movement set Mistress off again, and her movements pulled
my trigger again.  All in all, Mistress climaxed four times, and
I tried to each time.  It is as close to multiple orgasm as I
have ever come, but it sure wasn't close enough.

Finally, Mistress calmed.  I felt her tummy resting on my lower
abdomen, my rampant cock still sheathed in her now relaxed pussy. 
I could hear and feel the her ragged breathing slow as she
regathered herself.  She lifted herself off me and the change of
temperature on my slick, wet cock was shocking, but only for a
moment as a new heat enveloped my cock.  Hard sharp points grazed
my length while something very agile teased at the sensitive
underseam.  I felt her soft hand tease at my blotted balls, and
then it hit me.  My eyes went wide beneath the satin mask -
Mistress was sucking my cock!!  I fought for control, trying to
make this last, to stretch it out, to savor this first time
experience to its fullest, but I was too close.  The spasmodic
motion of my cock in her mouth heralded to both of us another
attempt to climax.  She practically inhaled me, and every muscle
in my body contracted and released.  Again, the surging pressure
started, trying to expel sperm through the barrier of the cock
ringed ribbon.

Only this time, Mistress pulled the tie of the ribbon just as the
full surge of climax hit, freeing me from its tight constriction,
and I pumped my soul into her mouth with the semen.  I screamed
through the panty gag, wanting to reaffirm my devotion to this
woman, finally falling back as the force of the orgasm subsided.

Her mouth left me.  The strings of the panties were pulled,
jerking the gag from my mouth, to be immediately replaced by
Mistress's lips and tongue, kissing me deeply.  My sperm was
still in her mouth, and she fed it to me with her quick tongue. 
The taste was salty, but not unpleasant, and I would have
challenged much more than that to have Mistress kiss me like
that!

We held each other's mouths for the longest time.  It was a
commitment, a bonding.  I was hers, and I also knew, she was
mine.  Not in the same way, certainly, but just as completely,
just as deeply.

She broke the kiss, and I heard her giggle.  Then she spoke for
the first time since entering the room.  "I took you in my mouth
in tribute to your symbolic deflowering, Markie, and I fed you
your own cum so that we would share that experience, together and
fully.  You have pleased me today, luv.  Here, let me give you
something to wash down that cum."  Her nipple filled my mouth. 
It was bigger, harder, more rubbery than I remembered.  Gently, I
suckled her, and I heard her groan in pleasure, so I sucked
harder.  Something sweet trickled into my mouth.  Shocked I
dropped my head back, staring into my blindfold, my mouth open. 
"What's the matter, Markie?  Don't you like Mistress milk?"  I
answered that question by action, finding her again and suckling
happily.

Mistress had slipped her robe on when she finally freed me and
removed the blindfold.  I spent the rest of the evening as
Markie, learning to move more gracefully in those damned heels. 
I earned a few swats for awkwardness, but the wonderful wicked
grin was back, unlike the other times my butt had been warmed
recently, so even those were welcome.  I did not get my panties
back, though.  I spent the evening bare bottomed, with the ribbon
tied loosely around my cock.  I blushed every time I saw Mistress
staring at it.

That night, Markie slept in Mistress's bed.

A month later, I was with Mistress in the birthing room at our
local hospital.  And I was there as Mark, at *her* insistence.  I
was going to be the father of record for Kyra's child, and she
wanted me there as a father, not as Mistress's submissive.  I
looked at my engagement and wedding rings on the shelf in the
birthing room.  Mistress had asked me to marry her and given me a
diamond ring.  I was so proud and honored, I am surprised my
shirt fit.

Mistress did great.  Our daughter was born after a fairly long
labor.  I still wince when I think of how much she hurt during
those hours, but she just kept on trooping along, comforting me,
for god's sake.

When I held young Nicole, for the first time, it did not matter
whose child she was biologically, she was mine and god help the
sorry son of a bitch who ever tried to hurt her.  I was counting
fingers and toes just one more time when a small mark caught my
eye.  It was just above her little bottom on the small of her
back and it was shaped like a butterfly.  I gaped at it, in
absolute amazement.

Kyra saw my look and became concerned.  "Mark, what is it? Is
something wrong?  Tell me!"

Wordlessly, I showed her the birthmark on her child.  Then I
handed her the babe, and, turning my back to her, pulled up my
shirt to show her the matching birthmark on me.  Kyra's eyes went
wide, and she looked from me to the baby and then back to me. 
"That means that she's ..."  She couldn't finish the statement,
so I did.

"It means she is really and truly ours, loving Mistress."

That was eight weeks ago.  Mistress got the promotion at work,
and I have moved my business into her den, so that I can be home
with Nicole.  We have a day lady who sees to the house and
watches Nikki when I have to closet myself or go out to entertain
clients, but we have a good life.  Mistress called from the
Doctor's to say she now had the *all clear*, and one other thing.

Markie had better be waiting for her in our room when she
finished settling Nikki for the night.  Mark or Markie, hell,
either of us or both of us, we can't wait!
-- 
--------
Spam email has forced me to encrypt my "reply to" header address.
Please remove .REMOVE from the address.  Sorry for the inconvenience.
tigger at alices dot com 

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