Read Owning Wednesday Online

Authors: Annabel Joseph

Tags: #Erotica

Owning Wednesday (26 page)

 

Wednesday started to cough and awakened with a soft moan. He handed the baby back to the nurse and went to her side.

 

“Wednesday.” He put his head down beside hers.

 

She was still groggy, trying to focus on his face. “Daniel. Where’s our baby?”

 

“Right over there. Does anything hurt? Are you all right?”

 

She smiled a weak smile. “I’m fine. I’m just tired. And I’m sorry…”

 

“Sorry for what?”

 

“I’m sorry I went to Vincent’s. I’m sorry you weren’t here. I’m sorry everything went crazy. I know you wanted to be here.”

 

“Oh God, don’t cry. Look. Look at our perfect, beautiful baby.”

 

The nurse brought the baby over, and he and Wednesday leaned over her while he brushed back Wednesday’s hair.

 

“Look at her, Wed. Just look at her.”

 

“She’s sleepy,” she whispered as the baby yawned and sighed.

 

Daniel stared at his beautiful girl, the mother of his child. “You did everything perfectly, baby. You did.”

 

“Wow.” Wednesday couldn’t take her eyes off the baby. “What are we going to call her? I guess now we have to come up with a name.”

 

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Today’s Tuesday. Tuesday, it is.”

 

“No.” She laughed. “No way. Not a chance.”

 

“No? We could try to make a whole week together, you and me.”

 

She rolled her eyes at that suggestion. “Seriously, Daniel. What do we call her? She looks so sweet. She looks so calm and peaceful.”

 

He remembered that nursery rhyme again.
Tuesday’s child is full of grace…

 

“Hmmm. How about Grace?”

 

* * *

 
 

Wednesday stared and stared. Baby Grace was such a wonder. So tiny, yet so strong. So new and magical. A miracle—and best of all, they were both very much alive.

 

Grace looked just like Wednesday, but she wouldn’t be like her. Wednesday was determined about that. She wouldn’t grow up anything like her. She made that promise to her without words over and over. A promise from the heart as she cuddled her child.

 

Daniel said Grace was like Wednesday because she cried all the time.
Ha, very funny.

 

Vincent came in to see the new baby as soon as they were settled in the recovery room. Wednesday was surprised to see Vincent and Daniel being so civil with each other, but she supposed they’d had some time to talk. Vincent picked up Grace like a seasoned pro and held her close. Wednesday and Daniel looked on in shock as he cooed and dandled her in his arms.

 

“What?” he asked when he noticed them gawking at him. “I’ve done this before. In fact, I have a grandson now.” He reddened slightly. “Last June.”

 

So Master Vincent was a doting grandpa. The whole world was upside down.

 

“How lovely she is, Wednesday,” Vincent said, sobering. “You did a really good job.”

 

“I had something to do with it,” Daniel said.

 

Vincent and Wednesday both scoffed.

 

“Yeah, you did the easy part,” said Vincent. “You didn’t even have to drive her here, listening to her earsplitting screams. Honestly, next time invest in some earplugs. Trust me.”

 

Daniel chuckled, but Wednesday was too spaced-out on the strangeness of the moment to laugh. Daniel and Vincent sharing a joke while Vincent—
Vincent
—cuddled their newborn baby.

 

“That’s a sweet child,” he cooed. “Smile for Uncle Vincent. That’s a good girl.”

 

“Oh hell no,
Uncle
Vincent,” Daniel said. “No way. You won’t order
this
girl around.”

 

So everything was okay between them, at least for the most part. They still had their awkward moments with Vincent, but he was part of their lives now, for better or worse.

 

She and Daniel took to parenting like pros, even though for a few trying months Gracie pulled them away from their erotic times together. It was hard not having that release, that intimacy for a while. But it was a small sacrifice to make for a miracle like her. When they did finally get back to it, they appreciated it that much more.

 

Daniel was determined that they ease back in slowly. Wednesday wanted to jump his bones willy-nilly, but of course, as always, Daniel was in charge. He tormented her terribly while she was recovering, taking things one step at a time. He loved to tie her up and tease her. “
Is that what you want, you naughty little slut? Maybe next time
.”

 

While she waited impatiently for him to take her again the way he used to, she took care of Gracie and went back to work part-time at a new editing job, one she could do from home. Daniel pitched in whenever he could, so they both had time to work and time together and time to be with Grace.

 

It was about six months after Wednesday had given birth that they got a babysitter and went on a date. Daniel watched her from the bed while she got ready. “Stockings, Wed,” he said. “No panties. Wear stockings tonight.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

 

It wasn’t exactly like their pre-Gracie dates. They both sat at the table, feeling there was something they’d forgotten.

 

“She’s fine,” he said when Wednesday fell silent and thoughtful for the umpteenth time.

 

“I know. I know she is.”

 

“You’re such a mommy now.” He said it like,
You’re such a goddess
. “I knew it all along.”

 

“Knew what?”

 

“That you wouldn’t die. That you would love our baby girl like mad.”

 

“I do love her,” she said, “and I love you too. I love being here with you.”

 

“I love being here with you too. God, Wed, you look beautiful tonight.”

 

Yes. Yuck. Disgusting. They went on like that for two hours, over wine and salad and dinner and dessert, the most disgustingly loved-up conversation anyone had ever heard, and the whole time she ached for him. The way he looked at her, like he wanted to jump her—it made her so hot. By the time the waiter brought the check, Daniel was snaking his hand up her dress to follow her silk stocking to the top and touch her bare skin.

 

“I swear I’m going to fuck the shit out of you,” he whispered. “I’m going to fuck you so hard when we get home.”

 

When they arrived there, they threw money at the babysitter and nodded impatiently at her recap of the evening’s events. “
Baby’s sleeping? She’s fine? Okay, well, call you next time! Good-bye
!”

 

She wanted him the second the door closed. She wanted him to push her to the floor the way he did sometimes when he just had to have it. But no. He had that gleam in his eye.

 

“Go to the tree, Wednesday. Go stand there.”

 

She sighed and did as he said. He watched her for a minute, then came over and cut off one of the lower branches. He peeled the bark slowly, deliberately, eyeing her for maximum effect. When he finished, he stood close behind her and had her hold the branch while he unbuttoned her dress and pulled it over her head. Her tummy flip-flopped with nervous lust. He was going to lay into her; she just knew it. He pressed her to the tree trunk and whispered in her ear, “Should I tie you, Wed? It’s been a while. It’s been a long time since you’ve really been disciplined.”

 

“What am I being disciplined for?”

 

“I don’t need a reason, do I, baby?” He pressed against her, pulling on her hair, gently at first, then hard enough to make her cry out in the silence. “Shh. Be a good girl. Answer me. Do I need a reason to hurt you?”

 

“No, Sir.”

 

He closed his teeth on her earlobe, just a little bite. “God, I love you so much.”

 

He had her wrap her arms around the tree and cuffed her hands in front so she couldn’t pull them loose, then tied her around the waist. She couldn’t move at all, couldn’t move her ass one inch to get away as he whipped her with the switch. Switches gave a stinging, sharp pain almost as bad as a cane, and it hurt. She moaned at each stroke and tried to pull against the rope that held her, but the pain was a relief too.

 

It was so reassuring and wonderful. It was his way of saying,
Yes, I’ll still be rough with you. Yes, you’re a mother now with a baby, but I’ll still treat you the same
. He beat her ass until the safe words began to turn around in her head.
Untie me, Daniel
. Then, of course, he knew that, and he stopped. He put down the switch and dropped to his knees. He rubbed and kissed the welts forming on her ass cheeks while she moaned from the combination of pleasure and pain.

 

“You beautiful girl. You look so punished standing there.”

 

“I feel punished,” she said, although he hadn’t drawn tears. She was far too aroused to be crying. To her relief, she heard him shedding his clothes.

 

She waited for words, for promises of what he would do, but he only said, “Stay right there,” and went into the bedroom. He returned, and she felt the cold, sticky lube against her ass and then the toy—
ouch
—a big one, stretching her open, then thrusting home between her burning cheeks.

 

“How do you feel now, Wed? Do you feel like a naughty girl? Are you afraid? But horny?”

 

“Yes, Daniel,” she managed to say, and she truly did feel all those things. She was tied quite immovably to the trunk of the tree, and now, with the massive toy in her ass, she felt more controlled and dominated than ever. The exciting part was that she passed back and forth by this tree all day, every day. Whenever she did, she remembered all the moments like these, with a hot blush and wetness between her thighs. She was sure he remembered too.

 

He fondled her ass for a long time while she floated on the feel of his hands. Then he sidled up behind her and fucked her. Even though she was tied there, even though she couldn’t move an inch, he pushed his way inside and took possession of her in yet another way. He owned her through and through.

 

The muscles of his chest and stomach slid against her back, hard and unyielding. The crisp hair on his hips and chest tickled her skin, and the tree bark pricked at the front of her. His fat cock filled her, rubbing against the toy in her ass. He reached around to insinuate his large fingers between the tree and her clit, and he stroked and pinched her there until she was bursting. She was imprisoned in rope, unable to flail around with her hips the way she wanted to.

 

“Oh, oh…Daniel…” She came with a groan, scratching the bark as she strained at the cuffs that held her. She was filled and fulfilled. Her pussy and ass contracted around the rigid protrusions inside her, and the hot flush of completion flooded her veins. Her heart raced and her nipples scraped with delicious torment against the rough surface of the tree. When she slumped with exhaustion, he released her, and she fell into his arms, a very grateful, well-used girl.

 

He carried her upstairs and stripped off her shredded stockings, then tucked her into bed. “The toy will stay in your ass all night,” he said, “so you can remember how much you belong to me.”

 

“Yes, Daniel,” she said. “I’m yours.”

Chapter Fourteen
 

 

 

Daniel was supposed to be working, but he couldn’t. He kept staring over at the tree. How wonderful to have a tree in the house to tie his lovely wife to. He smiled, remembering how she’d positively hummed there the night before. The stroke of genius had been tying her around the waist. Next time he’d have to be sure to fuck her ass, maybe even use less lube than usual, so it felt a little, just a little bit, as if she were being forced. Darling pervert. God, he loved her.

 

She’d gone with Grace this morning to Baby Time at the library, and he was supposed to be doing some work. And he would, just as soon as he finished mooning over her. He got up a moment later and went upstairs.

 

He thought he might hop online and buy her another outfit. Another bra and garter belt set or maybe a corset or some slutty dress. He went to the armoire to see what she lacked, what color, what style. He laughed to be confronted with exactly how many sets she had.

 

He began to sort through them, remembering this night, that night, this day, that wondrous afternoon. He looked at them all, each set wrapped in crinkly tissue, until he got to the bottom. Then he stopped, staring, because there, with his name on it, was a white envelope labeled
If I Die…

Other books

Pit Bulls vs Aliens by Neal Wooten
Paint Your Dragon by Tom Holt
Gifts by Ursula K. le Guin
Fate Book Two by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
The Marrying Game by Kate Saunders
Memento mori by César Pérez Gellida
Not Exactly a Brahmin by Susan Dunlap