I’m doing two chapters of Golden this week. It’s going to be ending in about six chapters, so expect anything, but nothing in particular. Plus, with my continuing education studies, I don’t know when I’ll be posting again.
This is a work of creativity. As such, you may see words, concepts, scenes, actions, behaviors, pictures, implements, and people that may or may not be socially acceptable and/or offensive. If you are sensitive to adverse and alternative subject matter of any kind, please do not proceed, because I guarantee you’ll find it here. You have been warned. Read at your own risk.
Explicit details of sex and BDSM scenes from here on out. Some may be hot while others may not be to your taste… and not necessary CG with Ana together. Proceed at your own discretion, but don’t say that I didn’t warn you.
This ain’t your everyday Christian and Ana story. Don’t expect anything. Just read it as it goes along or go away. I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy, or the characters. They belong to E. L. James. I am only exercising my right to exploit, abuse, and mangle the characters to MY discretion in MY story in MY interpretation as a fan. If something that I say displeases you, please, just leave. If you don’t like this story or me, please don’t spoil this experience for everyone. Just go away. For the rest of you, the new saga continues…
Garbed in my usual club attire—black jeans, black T, and Leather jacket—I drive out to Golden’s house. When I arrive, Belvedere shows me to the parlor where she’s waiting for me. I’m not late, but I should have been since she’s already in the parlor all presumptuous and shit. But why shouldn’t she be presumptuous? This is her arena, after all. I have long since understood that I’m an amateur at that game she plays.
She’s standing at the window in her parlor, her stance that of the Queen of the Castle. She’s in this sexy full-length dress with her thigh and tits on full display. Yes, Mistress, you look utterly delectable, but I’m still very much on my guard.
I walk further into the parlor and stand with my weight on one leg. Even in my casual garb, I know the aura I emit just as much as she knows hers. I won’t address her as anything yet. I just stand in the middle of the room waiting for her to acknowledge my presence. She doesn’t even turn around.
Still want to play, I see. Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.
“You asked me to come,” I say, fully aware that she more like ordered me to come. Her head snaps in my direction, her brown eyes piercing. Mistress is clearly displeased with my choice of words.
“I see we still haven’t learned any respect,” she says, placing her drink on a nearby end table. Oh, respect, there’s an interesting concept to be coming from you.
“Should I have?” I ask impassively, not moving a muscle. “You get what you give.”
“Is that right?” she asks, with a raised eyebrow. “Yet, you disrespected me by coming to my home, unannounced and uninvited, and now you appear…” she pauses, “disjointed because you saw something that got your little feathers in a huff and you subsequently didn’t get what you wanted once you were invited.”
Damn, she hit that nail a little too well on the head.
“Uninvited visit aside, with all due respect, as a client, I’m entitled to expect a certain outcome when we agree to meet,” I retort.
“And as your Mistress, I demand to expect a certain level of respect whenever we meet,” she counters. “What I do in my home, in the clubs, and anywhere else for that matter when you are not on my time has nothing to do with you and it’s none of your business.”
She’s very careful to phrase her statements so that she’s still in control. No wonder she’s such a damn good attorney, and a damn good Domme, but not this time.
“Then I would say that we’re at a crossroads,” I say, calmly putting one hand in my pocket. I don’t think she likes that either.
“How so?” she says crossing her arms and sticking that bare leg out so that the split falls fully open to the top of her thigh. Oh, yes, what a lovely display you’re giving, Mistress.
“You repeatedly address the respect that should be shown to you,” I point out, “yet you make no reference whatsoever to the respect that you should show others, including your clients. I don’t think I like that set up.” She smiles.
“So, you’ve decided you don’t want to play anymore,” she taunts victoriously.
“I’d love to play,” I say, “but you don’t play fair.” She laughs.
“You’re kidding, right?” she taunts. “You’re not seriously talking to a sadist about playing fair!”
“Maybe I made some incorrect assumptions about the rules,” I say coolly. “I’m a client, and I foolishly believed that somewhere in this exchange, we were both supposed to be satisfied. I must have been mistaken.” Her smile falls and her eyes narrow.
“Are you implying that I don’t know how to satisfy my clients?” she asks, lowly.
“Of course, not, Mistress,” I reply unfazed. “Why would I do something like that?” She raises a brow and her half-smirk comes back.
“I regret that you were disappointed,” she says turning her back to me. “You can go now.”
Suddenly, I’m very angry. I’ve called her on her shit, even left her questioning her skills for a moment, and in two sentences, she just turned it into a dismissal. Not so fast, Goldie.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I nearly hiss in my first show of emotion all night and she turns around to face me. I can’t read her expression, but I’m enraged. “Get the poor little billionaire wrapped around your finger, invite him to your lair just to dismiss him. What kind of black widow bitch are you?”
“What?” she retorts. “How dare you!”
“How dare I what?” I counter. “Stand up to you? Call you out for exactly what the fuck you really are? You’re so fucked up that you leave everybody in your wake—crushed under your shoe like they don’t fucking count. The only real relationship you have is with that fucking undertaker manservant you’ve got licking up your ass! How many men have you completely ruined? How many men have you totally destroyed? Or are they so lost in your fucking aura that they don’t even know that they’re destroyed yet? How many are there? Or is it just me? Me and that fucker that got a bullet in his ass?” She crosses her arms again.
“You’re not destroyed, Trey, you’re just whipped,” she replies haughtily. “You’re whipped over the thought and the fantasy of a piece of pussy that you’ll never have. You convinced yourself that if you stuck around long enough and you played the game by my rules that I would one day give in. I don’t know how long you’ve been doing this, Trey, but I’ve been doing this for quite a while, and I love it. I love the power that I have, and I love seeing men bow to me. I love breaking them and wracking them until they’re begging me to come. It’s who I am. It’s what I do, and if you got it in that pretty little head of yours that I was going to be anything else, well then that’s your fucking problem. You knew the rules from the very beginning, you just never played by them and now you want to blame me because you’re all dazed and confused. Well, try again, Trey. That movie don’t play here!”
I clench my fist and try to contain my temper. She thinks like a man. She acts like a man. And if she ever fucked, she’d probably fuck like a man. But what’s eating me up so fucking much is that she’s right. She’s 100% fucking correct. I want her so bad right now that my goddamn skin aches for her. She’s played with me and she’s played with my body and she’s dangled a fucking carrot in my face that she never promised me. I thought that shit would be enough, but it’s not! Sonofabitch, it’s not!
“When you’re beating those poor fuckers until they drool and lose control of their dicks, I want you to think of me watching you every fucking time,” I confess, and it’s true. Her control turns me on, even when she’s exercising it on another man. I imagine that even though they may get to taste her, she won’t let them fuck her because she’s saving herself for me. It doesn’t matter that it’s a fantasy that may never come true.
“Give it up, Trey!” she says, her voice now shaking with anger. “I know your type. I’ve seen you operate. You’re gorgeous and sexy and rich and powerful and you can have any woman you want—I’ll admit that. You leave beautiful women in your wake everywhere you tread, a girl in every port. And when you see one that’s unobtainable, you set about the task of proving her wrong, of showing her that even though she may think she’s beyond your reach, you can still get to her. I’ve met you before, Grey! I’ve met you many times. I didn’t fall for it then and I won’t fall for it now. I won’t be another conquest for you.”
“God, is that what you think?” I nearly shriek, horrified that she can trivialize my torment so easily. “You think this is about a fucking notch in my goddamn bedpost??”
“Isn’t it?” she hisses loudly, unmoved by my outburst. Fucking hell, this woman is going to drive me out of my motherfucking, goddamn, rabbit-ass mind!
“Fuuuuck!” I roar, shaking my fists in the air and turning away from her. “I can buy pussy! Fuck, I can get it for free anywhere I fucking want!” I whip back around to face her. “And you think this entire exercise—months and months of not being able to get you out of my fucking head no matter what the fuck I do; gifts that cost enough to feed third-world countries for years; seeing you no matter who I touch, no matter who I fuck, every-fucking-where I go and every-goddamn-thing I do—and you think this is about a goddamn ego-trip? Are you fucking kidding me?”
I’m yelling before I know it and something in my rant has hit a chord with her. I see something in her eyes that I’ve never seen before…
Leave, Grey. Leave fucking now. She’ll destroy you.
I can’t. I can’t leave. I don’t know what it is, what’s this power she has over me, but I can’t fight it. I’ll never win this one, but I can’t leave.
I close the space between us before she has a chance to react. I grab her in my arms and lift her off the floor. With one arm around her body holding her hard against me and one hand firmly in her hair, I thrust my tongue into her mouth, kissing her with all the passion and frustration she’s conjuring inside of me. I want her to feel what I fucking feel—this incessant need to be a part of her. I can’t control this shit. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it is some kind of conquest, a thirst that I have to quench, or I’ll never be able to move on with my fucking life. The thing is that once I’ve tasted her, I know it won’t be enough. I know she’ll rip my soul from me and dangle it in my face like a toy hanging from a string. I know she’ll destroy me… but I don’t care.
I’m a fucking goner.
She gasps as I bend her neck to kiss her deeply, tasting her sweet tongue and mouth like I’ll never taste her again. She’s all I think about, all I fucking want, and I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do if she doesn’t let me have her.
I’m breathless with lust and frustration and anger when I finally pull my mouth from hers. Again, her eyes relay thoughts and emotions I’ve never seen from her before. It’s confusing and maddening and I don’t know how to read them. Goddammit, why does this have to be so fucking hard? I press my cheek against hers and I squeeze my eyes shut in defeat, cursing my weakness the entire time.
“You consume me, don’t you know that?” I growl against her cheek. “You’re all I fucking think about! This is all a game to you. I know that—I’m not a fool. I don’t want to just fuck you. I want to be all over you—inside of you. I want to be in your head and in your skin until I seep out of your fucking pores! I want to consume you like you consume me!”
I inhale her scent and caress her baby-soft hair, pressing her body against me in every attempt to absorb hers into mine. And for just a moment, her body softens. I don’t know what it is—if her muscles relax or she releases a breath, but I only feel one thing.
My mouth is back on hers before either of us can think or protest. My kiss is softer this time, probing and tasting, but still as passionate. I want you, Golden. I fucking want all of you…
No… I can’t. I can’t run.
I unzip her dress and caress her back, just to get a feel of her skin. I’m memorizing every touch, every sensation, every moment just in case she comes to her senses and reaches for that goddamn gun again. I wonder what that guy is thinking now… was it worth it? Was it worth it to feel her skin, touch her, taste her, and be inside of her?
Damn right, it is.
She drives you insane, mindless with need and want and desire until you can see nothing else, until you can’t see beyond the fact that you have to have her.
I move the straps from her shoulders and kiss her skin, licking and tasting her neck and shoulders and loving every goddamn minute of it, falling deeper and deeper under her spell with every lap of my tongue.
She’ll destroy you, Grey…
I smother the thought by bruising her lips with another delicious, passionate kiss.
“Tell me to stop!” I hiss against her mouth. “Tell me to stop now or I won’t! I can’t!”
She answers me by grabbing my hair and returning my kiss. Fuck… game over.
I have to be inside her—now!
Not against the fucking wall, though.
I carry her to the large sofa and sit her on the edge, falling to my knees in front of her. With my mouth still on hers, I slide the dress from her arms and her body, allowing it to pool at her hips. Her breasts are beautiful—firm and taut with arousal. I take a nipple into my mouth and hungrily suck it, caressing it with my tongue and lips until she’s writhing on the sofa. I’m quickly coming out of my jacket and pulling my shirt from my pants, waiting until the last possible minute to remove my mouth from her tit before I pull it off. She helps me get it over my head before she hungrily cups my face and kisses me again.
I’m undoing my jeans as our tongues lap against each other, fighting for domination of this moment. Our breath is hasty, choppy, and grunting and we press our mouths together, each of us attempting to devour the other.
God, I want her so bad that I can’t even think clearly…
Don’t do it, Grey…
I break our kiss and move to her jaw, her neck…
She’ll destroy you, Grey…
I hear the words loud and clear in my head, but my body and my cock won’t listen, especially with her clinging to me, inviting me…
She’s poison, Grey…
The best poison I’ve ever tasted. My mouth travels back to her bare shoulder, down her chest, and back to her luscious, inviting nipples. She arches her back, pushing her full and ample breasts into my mouth and I gobble them like the starving man that I am—first one, and then the other.
My God, Golden. I’ve craved you so much.
Unable to satisfy myself any longer with just her breasts, I travel down her body to her navel, circling it with my tongue. Her breathing quickens as my hand moves under her dress, move her panties aside, and begin to thumb her clit. She gasps, and I feel her clit harden almost immediately against my thumb. I raise my eyes and her head is back, her eyes closed, both her arms around me.
Stop now, Grey…
The warning beacons are blazing in my mind, horns blaring like the lighthouse warning of imminent danger, but my blind desire can’t see the beacons, and my blood rushing through my body and pumping in my ears are blocking out the horns.
I move my hands up to her waist and push them between the fabric of her panties and her soft, inviting skin to push the rest of her clothing off her body.
Last chance to push me away, Golden…
She doesn’t. She lifts her hips to accommodate me and I quickly work her panties and dress past her ass and down her legs before she changes her mind. I slide them both over her gold stilettos and toss them out of my way, leaving her stilettos in place.
Her fragrance is more than I can stand. I put my hand under her thighs and pull her to the edge of the sofa. Before she can protest, I separate them and throw one leg over my shoulder. She whines in pleasure as I dive into her hot pussy, licking and tasting her hot, sweet juices.
Dear God, she is so fucking ready!
I am not gentle. I eat that pussy with every part of my mouth, only careful not to use my teeth. She voluntarily throws her other leg over my shoulder, grabs my hair, and begins to grind into my face, making some of the sultriest sex sounds I’ve ever heard. My dick is so hard, it hurts. It’s like my cock has anticipated this moment just as much as I have and can’t wait another second.
I continue to devour the delicious, ripe fruit as I rush to undo my pants. Once they’re open, I push them down to my ass and free my aching cock, so hard that it damn near ripped through my boxer briefs. Without even thinking, I crawl up her body, wrap my arms around her, push my hands underneath her and grab that luscious ass I’m been waiting to squeeze for over a year now. I effortlessly and quickly lay her flat on the sofa underneath me with her legs open and thrust into her without even looking to guide my dick. She cries out and presses her body against mine.
“Fuck!” I hiss loudly. “So tight…” Almost too tight. My dick meets some resistance even though she’s as wet as a waterfall. I try to move, to thrust deeper, but her out-of-practice pussy is pushing back. I take a deep breath, look into her eyes, and thrust slow and hard. Her jaw tightens and her hands tighten on my shoulders. I try to relay to her through my eyes that it’ll get better, but I have to break her in again.
I pull my hips back and thrust again, still slowly, but harder this time. It’s almost like fucking a virgin. God knows I can’t remember what that’s like.
I repeat the move two more times and become frustrated with the restriction of my jeans just below my balls. I manage to wiggle them down to my knees, but soon become too impatient to finish undressing. I toe out of one shoe and manage to free one leg from my jeans. I bend my leg and dig my knee deep into the sofa cushion, causing her leg to rise and wrap around my hip.
Leverage! Fucking excellent!
In this new position, I thrust my cock into her open and exposed pussy balls deep. She gasps as she finally takes all of me… finally.
Good God, my cock never wants to leave this place.
I pull out and thrust again, and again, slower and deeper. Fuck, it feels so good. She coughs out a groan that almost sounds mournful and closes her eyes.
Don’t close your eyes. I need you right here right now… with me!
“Open your eyes!” I groan forcefully, so horny and aroused that my cock feels heavy and hard as lead inside of her. She raises her head and gazes at me, desire evident in her eyes.
I stare into her eyes as I thrust up and into her, hard. She pants, open mouthed, with each thrust. I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve wanted her for so long, craved her so much.
I’ve never seen this expression on her face before. Her brown eyes are sultry, sexy, hungry, begging… begging for more… for more of me, and I’m going to give her all I can give.
I’m lost in this activity. She looks so good and smells so good and feels so good and tastes so good… I’m fucking captivated. I thrust and thrust and thrust until my cock starts to stretch and thicken inside of her.
She’s holding me so close to her that I can barely move. Her eyes say that she has wanted this as long as I have… needed this as long as I have.
I grind into her, swiveling my hips so that I can feel every part of her… her walls, her lips, her clit… and she can feel every part of me.
“Ah! Christian!” she whimpers. Hearing her say my name spurns me on and I grind into her again and again.
She closes her eyes and holds her head back, so I lick and kiss her neck and shoulders as I fuck her. This is a goddamn dream come true… literally!
I thrust deep and grind against every part of her, over and over and over until I’m dizzy with pleasure and desire. My dick wants to come but knows that I want this to last as long as possible. I pound into her, deep and hard, my body drenched with sweat from the workout. I instinctively place my hand over her throat and squeeze a little. She groans her approval, pulls her knees up and spreads her legs wider, her nails digging into my asscheeks as I fill her over and over again. This is fucking amazing.
“Can I… can I… come inside you?” I’m close, she better hurry.
“Yes!” she pants. “Yes! Christian! Christian! Don’t stop!”
“Ana…” she pants, “call me Ana…” I look into her eyes, heavy with lust, passion, and a little sadness. With my hand still squeezing her throat, I thrust into her again… and again. I softly kiss the corner of her mouth before I move my lips to her ear and whisper,
I hear her whimper, feel her shiver and swallow hard under my grip. After a few more deep strokes, her body stiffens, and she bows against me. Fuck, this feels so fucking good. I release her neck and grab a handful of her hair, pulling roughly. If I keep my hand on her throat, I might choke her to death.
“Fuck! Ana! Fuck!” I grind out through gritted teeth as my orgasm sears through my dick and into her pussy. Her helpless cries of passion and her nails digging deeper into the skin of my back help to pull the hot streams of cum right out of me. Fuck, it’s as good as I always thought it would be.
After fucking her, I see how that asshole could take a bullet for it. You get lost in that pussy, in that body, and nothing else matters. I feel sorry for the bastard, but I can see how he could so easily forget himself.
I fall down on top of her, both of us panting like dogs and trembling uncontrollably, riding out our aftershocks.
When I open my eyes, I’m lying on the sofa alone. I must have fallen asleep. I don’t know what time it is, but I’m still wearing my jeans on one leg and one shoe, and I feel unbelievably sated… and a little guilty.
Ana… where’s Ana?
I sit up and look around the room. I find her standing at the window again, looking out over the lake. There’s no drink in her hand this time.
At first, I want to say something. Then, I want to go to her. I sigh and slide my leg back into my boxer briefs and my pants and fasten them, then put my shoe back on. I pull my shirt over my head and just stand there, watching her back. We stand there silently for several moments, me staring at her back not knowing what to say and her staring out at the lake. Should I address her? If so, how? We just shared an extremely intimate experience where we called each other by first names. Do I call her Mistress? Or would that be insulting after what we just shared? Do I call her Ana? I take a chance. The silence is killing me.
“Ana?” I say cautiously. “Are you alright?” She sighs heavily.
“You can go now,” she says softly. I want to protest, but I can imagine that her thoughts are about as scrambled as mine are, if not more. I grab my jacket and stall, waiting for her to say something else. She doesn’t, and I have no idea what to say next.
I open the door and exit the parlor. I look back at her and she hasn’t moved from her spot at the window. As I head for the door, Belvedere appears.
“Will you… go check on her?” I ask concerned. He furrows his brow at me, then the stoic face is back.
“I always do,” he says impassively. I nod and drop my head. Without a word, he opens the door for me, and I leave.
I open my eyes and feel the weight of another body on mine. I’m sated and relaxed and floating and…
Trey’s body is heavy on mine. Did I shoot him? Of course, I didn’t fucking shoot him!
I masterfully slide from under him without waking him, not that I could right now. I think he’s in a coma, a Golden-induced coma.
What the fuck have I done?
I slide into my silk dress and zip it up. I walk over to the window and look out over the lake, wrapping my arms around myself.
It was incredible.
Did it feel that way because I hadn’t had it in so long? Was it because I wanted it more than I thought… or because I wanted him?
I could have let him go… could have let him stay away like I did before. I didn’t see him for months until we happened to bump into each other at that club. Then he showed up at my house and even then, everything was on my terms.
I summoned him. I told him to come. I invited him to tie up lose ends… unfinished business. God, what was I thinking? I put on the entire come-hither garb, I’m hairless all the way down to my toes, and I didn’t expect him to jump on it?
Maybe I did expect him to jump on it. I just didn’t expect to react this way.
Once he grabbed me… once he was holding me against him firmly in his arms, my brain couldn’t think to the next second. I was all thick, angry, hot emotion, and when moments before I had been telling him how much of a thoughtless philanderer he was, when he captured me, I couldn’t put one thought in front of another. In the back of my head, I was screaming, “Don’t let him dry fuck you again! You’re not a goddamn rubber doll!” But we went so much further than that.
All the sirens were there. All the warning bells were ringing so loudly that I couldn’t hear anything else, but everywhere he touched me, licked me, kissed me… it was like “on” buttons that I couldn’t switch off. I felt his yearning… every bit of his need. It wasn’t lust; it was pure, unadulterated desire and longing. It permeated me, completely saturated me through his hands, his chest, his legs, his body. This wasn’t like Lester; it was nothing like Lester. Lester lusted for me and was going to take me even though I said he couldn’t, but not Trey. No. He needed me, wanted me so badly, and his need totally consumed me, totally destroyed all my will and resistance.
He had said something, but all I knew is that I wanted him to stop talking and kiss me…
“Ana? Are you alright?”
Shit. He’s awake. I can’t talk to him. I can’t see him. I close my eyes tight and swallow.
“You can go now,” is all I can choke out. If I say anything else, look at him, I don’t know what will happen. He has to leave, and he has to leave right now.
I close into myself, block out the words completely until I hear another voice.
“Are you alright?” He asks the same question Christian did.
“I let him touch me,” I say sadly.
“Did he force himself on you, Mistress?” Blake asks. I shake my head, holding myself tighter.
“No,” I say, my voice shaking, “he didn’t. I let him fuck me…” I wanted him to fuck me… “I let him come inside me.” Blake is silent for several moments.
“What do you need, Mistress?” he asks, his voice impassive.
“I need to be alone,” I reply. He says nothing and leaves the parlor.
I want to cry, but I can’t. I don’t even know why I want to cry. Is this the end of me? Is this the end of Golden? Can I live with that?
I wanted this. At first, I didn’t, but then, I did. I summoned him, knowing how he was feeling—knowing what he was expecting. I wanted to be the one to end it. I wanted to call it quits. I wanted to have the last word… and now I can, but what did it cost me?
I didn’t know how much my body craved the feeling of a man’s touch until he touched me. Lying on Blake’s lap made me feel protected but being in Christian’s arms made me feel wanted. But they all want me. Why was he any different?
He cried out almost in the same agony I felt as he ripped through uncounted eons of celibacy. Even B.O.B. didn’t prepare me for that. I felt like I would explode as he penetrated me. I had more mini-orgasms than I can count.
And when he looked at me… it was so tender, yet so hungry and savage at the same time. I didn’t know what to make of it. I’d never seen that look in the eye of any man before. I’ve seen the tenderness in Blake’s eyes, and I’ve seen the hunger, the need, and the desire in many men’s eyes, but the combination of the two and what that evokes… I’ve never seen or felt that, much less from a man who was having sex with me at the time.
My body still feels him; my tongue still tastes him; my nose still smells him. I feel his seed oozing out of me as I stand here. I close my eyes and squeeze my legs together, clenching my muscles at the same time. I shiver at the thought of him thrusting into me… grinding against me… there was no part of me that he didn’t touch…
What am I supposed to do with this? I’m Golden! I’m not some sappy girl wanting to be hugged and loved and caressed! I’m a goddamn sadist! That’s what I do! This can’t be happening… it can’t be real.
I turn on my sound system and the one song of two slain enemies plays through the speakers. My revolutionary and his closest friend turned nemesis—how fitting.
I’ve got to get myself together; I’ve got to come out of this… but how?
Days later, I could still feel our kisses, still feel her coming around my cock, still smell the desire oozing through her skin.
I came clean with Ronnie during one of our lunches as she claims that I’m “wearing the change like a new suit.” I don’t know what I’m wearing. I’m still feeling the afterglow in my private moments, but I’m feeling every bit of the rejection all the rest of the time.
The first few texts I sent went unanswered, so I called her—a few times. I went to voicemail at first, then I went straight to voicemail. So, I went back to texting. About a week and a half later, I sent a text and got the message:
**The party you are trying to reach has ‘Do Not Disturb’ activated and cannot receive your text right now. **
I thought it was just the app that you turn on when you’re driving, so I waited a while and tried again… and again… After a few days and several tries with the same message, I finally give in and call her again. I get a new message this time.
My number has been blocked.
I don’t get angry. I can’t. This is totally unchartered territory for us. The thing is… it’s been weeks. What’s next? What’s the next step if I can’t even get her to talk to me?
By week four, I’ve had enough of the silent treatment and I make one last bid for her attention. I send tribute—nothing suggestive or expecting… a gold necklace, gold earrings, a gold bracelet and a case of the gold vodka.
I wait to hear something from her… thank you, go away, something. For three days after it was delivered, I wait. I get my answer the third day.
I walk into my penthouse, and there are two unassuming boxes on the breakfast bar, one significantly larger than the other. I already know what they are. I breathe a cleansing breath and settle into the decision. I open the largest box and remove one of the bottles. I go over to the bar and retrieve a double shot glass and walk over to the fireplace. I watch the gold-infused liquid fill the glass to the top and throw it back immediately before filling it again.
I won’t drive out there just for her undertaker to tell me that she won’t see me. This is the moment that I’ve feared for quite some time.
It’s over. It’s really over.
I had stopped calling and texting her after she denied me, but I just had to go back when she summoned me. I just had to. I couldn’t let my brain think louder than my dick just this once and leave well enough alone. No, I had to go chasing after something I couldn’t have… I shouldn’t have.
It wasn’t just my dick talking, though, and I know this. I wasn’t just some horny bastard looking to get laid and she wasn’t just another conquest. It was more than that. It wasn’t love, I’m sure, but it was more than that cheap description that she gave it.
Was it worth it? Yes and no.
Fucking her was everything I thought it would be—everything and more!
The only problem is that now that I’ve had her, I want her even more and I know that I can’t have her again. This fucking sucks.
I finish my drink and toss my glass gently into the fireplace. I’m not even mad enough to throw it in there. I have nobody to blame for this but myself. She’s a black widow—I said it, I knew it, and I engaged anyway, so whose fault is that?
When you dance with a snake, you can’t blame the snake when you get bitten.
I turn the lights down in the penthouse and head back to my bedroom to turn in for the night.
Shortly after the night I spent with Christian, I’m finally able to get all of the ladies to agree to offer the settlement. I have one hold out who insists that I should take the same cut as all the other claimants and waive my fee since I’m going to be getting a payout of some sort and I’m expecting them to take less than the suit was for.
“Annette,” I press at the meeting, “I told you when the suit began not to expect to get the original amount. We ask for that much in hopes of getting a decent settlement. You’re acting as if we haven’t discussed this.”
“I’m just saying that you should get just as much as the rest of us if you’re suggesting that we settle for this much less than the original amount.”
I can see the other ladies can be swayed either way at this point, even after they all agreed to the settlement which would result in a payout of $1.33 million each after attorney’s fees. What happens next will depend solely on the words that come out of my mouth.
I place my pen on my desk, clasp my fingers together, and face off directly with Annette. You wanna play chess, you greedy bitch? Let’s play chess.
“Have you found any bedbugs in your home? Because if you have, you haven’t disclosed that information. We were able to file a class-action suit and have a judge possibly hear a case based on a glorified occurrence of the heebie jeebies. This woman wants this case to go away because she’s got bigger fish to fry. That fish fry is coming up really soon and I’m trying to get us something as opposed to us being left with nothing.
“I’ve agreed to forfeit my share of the lawsuit as I am one of the complainants so that the rest of you can split that amount evenly and get a larger settlement. What you are suggesting is that I offer my legal services for free so that you can get even more money because not only am I the attorney, I’m one of the complainants. Did this woman harass you at any of your places of business? Because she’s been here. Did she assault any of you? Because she assaulted me. And you feel like I should be the front man—offer those services for free. Let that sink in for a moment.”
I say nothing and let the silence settle over the room.
“I keep my ear to the ground for information,” I say, turning to the other ladies. “Word is that we don’t know if they are getting divorced, but they are cleaning out bank accounts. Exactly how much do you think she has left to her name without her salons? What do you think is going to be left after she pays for her defenses and a possible lawsuit with Christian Grey?
“Let’s just look at the math for a minute,” I continue pulling out a calculator. “$10 million divided by six is $1.67 million apiece by all of us before attorney’s fees. If I take my third, which I am entitled to as the attorney and we all agreed when we started this suit, we would be dividing $6,666,667 among six people. That means that I and all of you would get $1.1 million each, give or take a couple of thousand, but I would still be entitled to my attorney’s fee before the settlement is even distributed. Instead, I’m saying withdraw my portion of the lawsuit, since I’ll get my attorney’s fee no matter what, and divide the rest among the five of you.
“Now, if you refer back to your email, I indicated that with this settlement, you would each get $1.4 million. If you do your math, that means that I’m not taking the one-third that I’m entitled to. I’m taking 30% and I’m leaving 70% for the five of you to split. If I took my one-third, I’d be taking $3,333,333. I’m only charging $3 million.”
I can already tell that the proverbial nail is in the coffin of her point, especially since I’ve proven that I’m taking less than my fee along with forfeiting my portion of the settlement. Nonetheless, I decide to drive it home in case this conversation resurfaces when I’m not around.
“So, here are your options, Mrs. Bircham, ladies,” I say, leaning forward to her. “I can present the non-negotiable settlement agreement to Mrs. Lincoln’s attorney and see if we can get her to agree to each of you getting a settlement of a million four after attorney’s fees for a glorified case of the heebie jeebies before the bottom falls out of her life and she has nothing left… or I can withdraw the lawsuit, withdraw my participation in it, and withdraw as your attorney. Then, you can all go and see if you can find another attorney who will work for you for free and see if they can get you a bigger settlement before Elena Lincoln goes belly-up. If you decide to go with an attorney that will take the case pro-bono, make sure that you inform them that not only is the possibility of success less likely than the possibility of settlement, but that they most likely will also have to contend with harassment, assault, and various other threats.”
I stay in position and wait for Annette to say something. At this point, all four of the other women are staring at her and waiting for her to speak. She looks at them each before she speaks.
“I was just trying to get the best deal for us all,” Annette says.
“In the meantime, you’re bickering over 270K and you’re going to cost us all 1.4 million,” Liz says before turning to the group. “I don’t know if you all understand this or not, but she’s right. This is a longshot. It’s worth a shot if we don’t lose anything, but I don’t think there’s a judge anywhere that’s going to award us anything let alone set a $10-million precedent for a case of the heebie jeebies that we may not even be able to collect if the cow is broke! You watch the news; you see what she’s going through. Let’s take the settlement and see what we can get!”
There’s a brief pause before another of the women speak up.
“Most of what you just said went over my head, Ana,” Pam chimes in, “but I did see 1.4 million if we divide by five and 1.1 million if we divide by six.” She turns to Annette. “If she’s willing to give up her share, what are you barking about?”
“And what damn attorney in what county anywhere do you expect to work for free?” Jamese asks. “Do you realize how stupid you sound for even suggesting that?”
“It was just a suggestion that we split it all six ways instead of her taking a third,” Annette defends.
“And it was a dumb suggestion,” Amber pipes in finally. “You’re going to cost us all everything and then you’re going to have four new enemies. Agree to the damn settlement, Annette. We don’t even know if we’ll get it yet. At this point, it’s our best shot…”
“Okay, okay,” Annette finally gives in. “I was just…”
“We know what you were doing and we don’t agree you’re outnumbered,” Liz says all in one breath. “Ana, offer the settlement.”
“She’s got to agree, or I withdraw completely,” I say. Yes, you bad faith bitch, say it out loud. I’m recording you.
“Let’s see if she agrees to the settlement first,” she says, still refusing to give in completely. I narrow my eyes at her.
“Agree or I withdraw completely,” I repeat. “I won’t say it again.” She still refuses to respond. I go over to my desk and press my intercom.
“Draw up the motion to dismiss to file on the Lincoln case.” There’s a long pause.
“Elena Lincoln?” she says, to be sure.
“Yes, and contact her attorney and let him know that he’ll have the motion to dismiss on his desk tomorrow morning. I’m withdrawing as their attorney and the plaintiffs will have to find another attorney to file their case.”
“Come on, Ana,” Pam says, “we can’t start all over!” I don’t respond. They had my conditions and they didn’t all agree.
“Annette, are you out of your fucking mind?” Liz barks. “You don’t want any of us to get anything, you stupid cow?”
“Annette, so help me God, if you cost me one and a half million dollars…” Jamese begins.
“Okay, okay,” she says more forcefully this time. “I agree. I agree to the damn settlement… if Lincoln gives it to us.” She turns an expecting eye at me.
“Thank you,” I say to Annette. “Now, get the hell out of my office.” Her eyes widen.
“What?” she says in shock.
“You have caused me enough grief for one fucking day. Now get the fuck out of my office!” I’m pointing to the door and glaring right at her. None of her co-plaintiffs offer her any support. She’s slow to move, but I send her a subliminal message without moving a muscle.
Bitch don’t make me physically come and remove you, because today, I will.
She must have gotten the message because not three seconds later, she rises her ass up out of that chair. Throwing a final glance at me, she leaves the office. I release the angry breath I was holding and drop my arm, counting to ten. When I open my eyes, everyone is gone except Jesse.
“You okay?” he asks. I nod.
“Yes,” I say. “I need to call Lincoln’s attorney.”
“Maybe you should take a minute,” Chanelle says through the intercom that I didn’t know was still active. “Maybe even wait til tomorrow…” she trails off. She’s right. I need to calm down. I’m not myself. I need a minute. Or a day. Or something. I leave the office a little while later intent on calling Carver Mason tomorrow to offer the settlement.
It’s been a month since I slept with Christian. He sent me tribute last week, an attempt to establish contact since I blocked him from my phone. I haven’t heard anything since I sent it back. I was dreading that he would show up on my doorstep like he has once or twice before—or dreading that he wouldn’t.
I put Golden on hiatus for a while so that I can re-center and refocus myself. I go to yin yoga and restorative yoga—without Kevin—and I do a lot of meditating to try to help me regain control of myself and my happiness… to get that night out of my mind, that one night… or to at least deal with the effects of what it’s done to my psyche. I have to move on and be myself even with the memories that I have of the tenderness that we shared. Elena would love how dysfunctional I am as a sadist right now.
Goddamn Elena Lincoln!
I was fine! I was doing just fucking fine before I met this man. There was no confusion, no questions about what I wanted or who I wanted or what I wanted to do. My life was mapped out for the next several years at least! And now I’m all fucking confused and verklempt and girly and goddamned needy. This shit is for the fucking birds! I don’t need this shit! I’m a sadist! A goddamn sadist! I don’t do this touchy-feely happily-ever-after bullshit!
Goddamn motherfucking Elena Lincoln.
If I ever get my hand on that bitch, I’m taking her ass to my dungeon and I’m going to make that shit that Linc did to her look like Patty-cake! Fucking bleached blonde bubble-head bitch! I could slit her throat and watch her die slowly for this shit. Goddamn fucking Elena Lincoln!
My guru, my shaman, my guide… where are you now… when I need you?
“Put those feet on my shoulders!” I order her. “I want to be so deep in that pussy that you feel my dick in your goddamn throat!”
I fuck her without mercy, without feeling. I fuck her hard and deep. I want to come… so hard that I forget all about her, all about her smell and her taste, the way she felt wrapped around my dick, the look of passion in her eyes when she came, when I came inside her…
I fuck harder and harder, plunging into this nameless, faceless cunt. I want to fuck her out of my system. I know it’s useless. I know it’s impossible. I’ve already tried. I tried with Caramel, with Joyce, with numerous other submissives, but I still come back to her. She has no equal and she knows it.
I wonder how many other poor suckers do what I do… watch her hopelessly then go back to their ugly wives, nameless women, or faceless submissives and jack off in their pussies to visions of Golden? I dream about her when I’m asleep and think about her when I’m awake. She won’t let me near her. She’s even asked that I don’t be allowed into a private observation room when she’s on exhibition—in any of the clubs. She stopped frequenting the ones that won’t honor her wish.
Suddenly, my dick goes limp inside this pussy. I push myself off her and didn’t even notice that she was crying.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing… Sir… I’m… fine,” she weeps. I roll my eyes, disgusted at her for not being Golden and disgusted at myself for hurting her.
“Go bathe,” I say as I roll away from her. I feel the bed shift as she rises and goes to the en suite, her cries less controlled once she closes the door. I’ve got to get pass this, all the way pass this. I’ve been without this woman before, but this time, it feels like I’m gutted… like I can’t function without her.
And now I’m becoming a pure asshole.
I rise and don a pair of boxer briefs. I go to the bathroom and knock on the door. Her sobbing stops once she hears my knock. I open the door and come inside. She’s still sitting on the edge of my tub. She hasn’t gotten in yet. I walk over to her and take her hand, helping her step into the tub. She sniffles a few times as she gets in.
I don’t say anything to her. I can’t even remember her name.
I take the nearby sponge and wet it, gently squeezing the water over her skin. I repeat the gesture, making sure not to miss any part of her skin. She quietly cries some more, where she thinks I can’t hear her, and then she stops once I begin to wash her skin. I punished her sexually, continuously, not thinking of her pleasure, only my own…
I became Golden.
That behavior has its place, but not tonight. I won’t be her tonight.
I haven’t made love to a girl in years… since Juliet. Golden was damn close, but no, not Golden either. I don’t plan to cross that threshold tonight either, but I can at least offer some tenderness if I can’t offer anything else.
I clean her entire body, then wash her hair with the coconut shampoo that I have in this bathroom. She sinks into the comfort and I feel slightly better about being such an asshole. After I rinse the conditioner from her hair, I unplug the tub and give her my hand again to help her out. When she steps on the bathmat, I dry her body carefully and offer her a terrycloth robe which she takes. I offer her a fresh towel to dry her hair and she dries it and wraps it when she’s done. Then she stands there looking at me, a bit bemused.
“I’m…” I can’t even form the words. “This… was an unusual night for me.” That’s all I can say about it. I give her a fresh hand towel. “Would you like to wash your face?”
“Y… yes,” she squeaks out. “Thank you.” I leave the bathroom to give her some privacy. I hear the water turn on and I just stand there for a minute. I’m not all that great with aftercare. I’ve never really done it. I think I tried it once, a long time ago. But this girl—she didn’t sign up for what I did to her tonight. If she has any other dates, she won’t be able to make them, physically or emotionally. So, I think aftercare is necessary.
I go to my bedroom and pull a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt out of my dresser drawer. Once I put them on, I go back to my fuck room. She has come out of the bathroom and is standing somewhat lost in the middle of the floor.
“Would you like something to eat?” I ask. “A drink?”
“A… drink would be good,” she says. I take her hand and lead her out to the great room and sit her at the breakfast bar.
“Red wine?” I ask. “Something stronger?”
“Do you have tequila?” she asks. I raise a brow at her. Yep, no other dates tonight.
I go to the bar and grab two double-shot glasses. I pull a lime from the refrigerator and cut it in slices. Placing the slices in a bowl, I bring the bowl, the salt shaker and the tequila to the breakfast bar. I pour a shot for each of us and watch as she licks her hand and sprinkles some salt on it. I push the shot over to her and salt my own hand. By the time I take my shot, she’s already sucking the lime. I bite into my lime and watch her react to the potency of the tequila.
“Would you like to stay the night?” I ask. She raises uncertain eyes to me. “To get some rest,” I add. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Shit, when I say this is an unusual night, that’s a fucking understatement!
“I have to call the service,” she says.
“I’ll call them,” I tell her. “Do you want another or is one your limit?” She gazes at me for a moment.
“I’ll take another please,” she says. I pour us both a second shot and we take it with the salt and lime again.
“You sure you don’t want anything to eat?” I say. She shakes her head after shaking off the tequila. Okay, so no more tequila for you. I reach into the refrigerator and hand her a bottle of water.
“I’ll get you something to sleep in,” I say. “Some boxers and a T-shirt or a spare pair of pajamas…”
“The boxers and T-shirt are fine,” she says. I help her off of the stool.
“I’ll be right there,” I tell her. She walks into the room and I pull out my phone to call the service.
“This is Trey Adams. The girl you sent to my home; I want her to stay the night.”
“Yes, sir, her name is Ali.” Very astute.
“Charge it to my account.” I end the call without waiting for a response. I retrieve a pair of boxers and a T-shirt from my bedroom. I knock on the door and when she answers, I give them to her.
“Thank you,” she says sweetly.
“You’re all set for tonight. Rest well.” I walk away from the door and go to the breakfast bar. I take one last shot of tequila for myself before I fall down onto the sofa and stare at the fire.
I knew she would do it. I called it myself from the very beginning. I said she could ruin me—would ruin me, and she did. I want her whip in the worst way. I want to feel her canes, her floggers… I don’t dare allow another Domme to touch me. I don’t trust anybody else. No one would do it the way that she does, and it would only piss me off. She’s the best, and she knows it. That’s why she has that fucking song playing every time she walks into the club…
Nobody does it better,
Makes me feel bad for the rest.
Nobody does it half as good as you,
Baby, you’re the best.
A/N: Golden was listening to Tupac – Runnin’ (Dying To Live) Ft. Notorious B.I.G.
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