Page 351 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

That brought a beautiful blush to her cheeks and the sweet smell of her blooming arousal. “This is my doctor's appointment,” she said, making quote marks with her fingers for “doctor's appointment.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I'm not using an Ob/Gyn. I'm using a midwife–her name is Jenny. We're having a homebirth, so you can be there.”

He felt a wave of excitement and some undefined raw emotion pass through him at that.

They knocked on the door of Jenny's house and were admitted by a classic Tucson hippie. She was about forty and sported two braids and a pair of overalls. Her face somehow managed to convey maternal wisdom, and her laid back manner did not come across as incapable. She let them into the “exam room,” a bedroom that featured a scale, exam bed and a table and chairs. She indicated the chairs for them to be seated.

After they had imparted all their pertinent information, he grilled her on the safety aspects until he felt assured. She carried oxygen and could administer Pitocen in the event of hemorrhage. She had an entire list of possible events that would cause her to transport Kate to a hospital.

Jenny weighed Kate and had her pee on a stick. Then she gave Kate fillable forms to track her daily intake of protein and other required foods (two eggs per day, fruits, vegetables, etc). The amount of protein necessary was somewhat staggering.

The midwife's fee was cash only, which didn't bother him in the least, and at $1800, was probably way less than a hospital birth would cost. Which reminded him that he needed to be sure Kate and their baby had health insurance.

“I told her about you working third shift a lot and that we were willing to pay extra for the evening appointments,” Kate said brightly in what he figured was the first of millions of lies she would speak on his behalf in their lifetime together.

On that cue, he pulled out his wallet and dropped five hundred-dollar bills on the table. “Yes, we really appreciate your seeing us this late. Thank you,” he said standing up.

Outside, he drew Kate into his arms. “Are you sure you're comfortable with this?”

She grinned. “I've always known I wanted a home birth. It's just a coincidence that it works out best for you, too.”

He stroked her cheek. “Thank you,” he said, his voice closing with emotion. “This was a wonderful surprise.”

“Except you hated the surprise part,” she teased him.

He smiled. “It stretched my comfort zone a little. But don't worry, I know how to get you back,” he said waggling his eyebrows at her.

She kissed him and they got in the car. “You didn't know I'm really a hippie at heart, did you?”

“Artist, hippie, they are somewhat interchangeable.”

“I plan on nursing our baby till she's at least two. Maybe three,” she said with a note of challenge in her voice.

He smiled and shrugged. “That's how it was done in my day,” he said mildly.

She looked surprised for a moment. “Oh yeah, right. And I'm sure you had a home birth then, too?”

He nodded, the memories of his daughter's and granddaughter's births rushing at him again, overwhelming him with emotion. He'd been this way since the moment he found out Kate was carrying his baby. And it was supposed to be the woman who was emotional during pregnancy.

“Are you going to spank our daughter?” Kate asked somewhat hesitantly.

“Of course not. Are you?”

She looked extremely relieved. “Of course not. I just wasn't sure…”

“No, spanking is a pleasure I will reserve entirely for you.”

“So does this mean we're going to have a domestic discipline marriage?”

“It's hard to imagine us not, isn't it?”

“Well, what if I don't want to be spanked anymore? What if I change my mind and I…I just don't want it in my life?”

He smiled affectionately at Kate. She had created a lot of little worries since he'd seen her last. “Then we won't have a domestic discipline marriage.”

She looked at him doubtfully, as if she wasn't sure if she believed him. “I have many ways of maintaining my authority over people that don't involve spanking,” he said and she giggled.

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