Let's go slow. Let's go fast.
“No.”
I said the word out loud. I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t help myself. Alex’s laugher had completely dissolved. I couldn’t believe that mere moments before, the startling sound of his laughter had filled the room. Claudine stood staring down at him, hand on his chin, but when she heard me speak, she turned her attention to me.
“You have something to say?” Claudine’s voice was soft, yet dangerous. Today the woman’s menacing attitude was palpable. There was nothing hostess-like about her. She was 100% Dom.
Still, I wasn’t addressing her, and I wouldn’t give her the respect of meeting her gaze. I was focused solely on Jack. “No,” I said, watching him, the way he looked. So handsome. Stripped to the waist, now. Muscles taut. Body tense. He didn’t seem surprised at all by my reaction to this unexpected turn of events, but he didn’t appear displeased, either.
The best Tops are those who have had the experience bottoming. I’ve read that over and over. But I didn’t have any desire to see Jack bottom for Claudine. I couldn’t stand the thought of her in charge of him, of her hurting him. And yet, though I couldn’t stand it, I could already visualize the picture. A belt in her hand? No. It wouldn’t be a belt. The stupid fucking slapper she used on Sylvain? No. Jack would require a special device—a quirt? A crop? A cane?
I felt ill. My head spinning. Claudine hadn’t moved, and I realized that all of my thoughts were coming rapidly. What felt like minutes passing were merely seconds. Flash fire images burning through my brain. And those words, neon-bright in my mind.
“No. Jack. Don’t. Jack. Please. Jack.”
Alex, handcuffs still on, turned toward me, tried to calm me with his body. Tried to shield me in some way from Claudine. He knew her a hell of a lot better than I did. I understood that. But I knew Jack. I thought I did, at least. And I couldn’t let him, couldn’t figure out why, couldn’t comprehend…
He wasn’t moving. Wasn’t speaking. Simply stood there, bare to the waist, and looked at me. And then his eyes went to Claudine, and I thought I saw him nod.
Jesus. What sort of signal was that? Why type of plan had they formulated? Why did she know things that I did not?
She was in motion, then, gripping Sylvain up. Speaking to him in a hushed voice, watching as he slid off the bed, headed naked and clearly at ease out the door. Where was he going? What was he getting?
I blinked away the tears, staring from one person to the next, trying to understand.
Alex continued in his attempts to soothe me, hands now on my body, handcuff chain clinking. “You don’t know,” he was saying. “You don’t really see…”
“What?” I wasn’t whispering, wouldn’t be quiet.
He half-shrugged, looking apologetic for no reason at all. “What they’re like,” he said next. “I mean, what they were like.” Talking like that with Claudine and Jack both in the room. As if they couldn’t hear.
“I don’t care,” I said. “I don’t care what they had or what they were to each other…”
“You didn’t mind last night.”
My head felt as if it would split open. Was I being a hypocrite for not wanting to watch this? For not wanting to see Claudine hurt Jack? Because somehow I did understand. Fuck, of course I did. He was going to show her what he was made of. He was going to show her that the end of their relationship hadn’t broken him. And he was going to show her all of this with his brute strength.
Their wedding bands might have been moldering in some forgotten drawer, but their ghosts were far from dead.
Alex was petting me, crooning to me, so that I lost my focus for a sliver of time. Lost myself for the second it took for Claudine to come forward, an extra set of cuffs in her hands. I was pulling then, straining away from Alex, whose hands on mine had suddenly become less soothing and more restraining. My eyes were wide, my body tense, thinking “Traitor. Why?" But he just gripped my hands and held tight, so that Claudine could get the cuffs on my wrists easily. Yet I could still move. I could still leave.
But would I leave?
Would I flee from the room and leave Jack alone with his ex? Alone to be hurt by her. Alone to be whipped by her.
I start and end with the same word today:
No.
XXX,
Alison
Oh yeah, it's rollercoaster time
Lovin' you is really wild
Oh, it's just a love rollercoaster
Step right up and get your tickets
—Chili Peppers
I said the word out loud. I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t help myself. Alex’s laugher had completely dissolved. I couldn’t believe that mere moments before, the startling sound of his laughter had filled the room. Claudine stood staring down at him, hand on his chin, but when she heard me speak, she turned her attention to me.
“You have something to say?” Claudine’s voice was soft, yet dangerous. Today the woman’s menacing attitude was palpable. There was nothing hostess-like about her. She was 100% Dom.
Still, I wasn’t addressing her, and I wouldn’t give her the respect of meeting her gaze. I was focused solely on Jack. “No,” I said, watching him, the way he looked. So handsome. Stripped to the waist, now. Muscles taut. Body tense. He didn’t seem surprised at all by my reaction to this unexpected turn of events, but he didn’t appear displeased, either.
The best Tops are those who have had the experience bottoming. I’ve read that over and over. But I didn’t have any desire to see Jack bottom for Claudine. I couldn’t stand the thought of her in charge of him, of her hurting him. And yet, though I couldn’t stand it, I could already visualize the picture. A belt in her hand? No. It wouldn’t be a belt. The stupid fucking slapper she used on Sylvain? No. Jack would require a special device—a quirt? A crop? A cane?
I felt ill. My head spinning. Claudine hadn’t moved, and I realized that all of my thoughts were coming rapidly. What felt like minutes passing were merely seconds. Flash fire images burning through my brain. And those words, neon-bright in my mind.
“No. Jack. Don’t. Jack. Please. Jack.”
Alex, handcuffs still on, turned toward me, tried to calm me with his body. Tried to shield me in some way from Claudine. He knew her a hell of a lot better than I did. I understood that. But I knew Jack. I thought I did, at least. And I couldn’t let him, couldn’t figure out why, couldn’t comprehend…
He wasn’t moving. Wasn’t speaking. Simply stood there, bare to the waist, and looked at me. And then his eyes went to Claudine, and I thought I saw him nod.
Jesus. What sort of signal was that? Why type of plan had they formulated? Why did she know things that I did not?
She was in motion, then, gripping Sylvain up. Speaking to him in a hushed voice, watching as he slid off the bed, headed naked and clearly at ease out the door. Where was he going? What was he getting?
I blinked away the tears, staring from one person to the next, trying to understand.
Alex continued in his attempts to soothe me, hands now on my body, handcuff chain clinking. “You don’t know,” he was saying. “You don’t really see…”
“What?” I wasn’t whispering, wouldn’t be quiet.
He half-shrugged, looking apologetic for no reason at all. “What they’re like,” he said next. “I mean, what they were like.” Talking like that with Claudine and Jack both in the room. As if they couldn’t hear.
“I don’t care,” I said. “I don’t care what they had or what they were to each other…”
“You didn’t mind last night.”
My head felt as if it would split open. Was I being a hypocrite for not wanting to watch this? For not wanting to see Claudine hurt Jack? Because somehow I did understand. Fuck, of course I did. He was going to show her what he was made of. He was going to show her that the end of their relationship hadn’t broken him. And he was going to show her all of this with his brute strength.
Their wedding bands might have been moldering in some forgotten drawer, but their ghosts were far from dead.
Alex was petting me, crooning to me, so that I lost my focus for a sliver of time. Lost myself for the second it took for Claudine to come forward, an extra set of cuffs in her hands. I was pulling then, straining away from Alex, whose hands on mine had suddenly become less soothing and more restraining. My eyes were wide, my body tense, thinking “Traitor. Why?" But he just gripped my hands and held tight, so that Claudine could get the cuffs on my wrists easily. Yet I could still move. I could still leave.
But would I leave?
Would I flee from the room and leave Jack alone with his ex? Alone to be hurt by her. Alone to be whipped by her.
I start and end with the same word today:
No.
XXX,
Alison
Oh yeah, it's rollercoaster time
Lovin' you is really wild
Oh, it's just a love rollercoaster
Step right up and get your tickets
—Chili Peppers
posted by Alison Tyler at 6:13 AM
8 Comments:
Wow, you just couldn't stay out of it could you, you couldn't sit back and watch your image of what Jack was, be demolished before your eyes? Sounds like now you're in line for some "punishment" as well, for not keeping your mouth shut, like a good little sub. It's as if Claudine and Jack are working together to take you to new levels of mind-fucking erotic torture. Talk about suspense, tension and drama. God this is beautiful.
When I saw the picture my hands started to sweat cold already.
I guess I'm glad the next part will only come tomorrow, in another dose.
If the jealousy in my nature is stirring in discomfort, I wonder in what state of mind you write it.
Tessa
Wow, I wish Alison would show some strength and just walk out...but I guess the stronger person would actually stay and watch...
No, Mehreen, No. As you yourself realized, it would never do for her to walk out.
I'm reminded of a story about a nay-saying audience member at one of John Cage's concerts. Another audience member set him straight with the words: "When you her music like that, take it like a man."
Jack and Claudine are preparing a special feast for our dear Alison. Staying and watching would be the least she could do to show a semblance of gratitude to her gracious host.
This time I disagree, dear Karl. I don't think it's got to do with gratitude to Claudine but feelings for Jack. It takes much connection to watch a partner measure forces with somebody else like that.I see what Mehreen says. It's absolutely mind-blowing.
Tessa
Tessa, In a way, what I said about gratitude was meant to be ironic, but in another way I was serious. This is a rare opportunity for Alison to watch Jack and Claudine play in the deep end of the human psyche. I doubt there are two other human beings alive on earth today who play quite like this. And Alison had a front row seat.
The beauty here is that Claudine is Jack's protege. In his own way, Jack has created a monster in Claudine, a monster who turned on him and broke him. And yet, he's coming back for more. Don't ask yet what this all means. You don't think bringing other partners home to bed wasn't Claudine's way of playing ever more edgy and deep S&M games with Jack. And you don't think that Claudine doesn't realize that watching her whip Jack will “hurt” Alison more than any cane, paddle or belt she could apply to Alison's bare bottom.
No, Claude knows what she's doing. Jack has taught her well. I have the feeling she and Jack have been colluding in the escalating game of provocation and punishment that has brought us to this level. You don't think having his new young thing whip her soundly in the closest we've seen here to a non-consensual punishment was fundamentally anything more than Jack's insidiously clever way of winding Claude up good and tight. And now Jack is about to enjoy the more than equal and opposite reaction. Because while Alison was just “acting”, Claudine is the real thing.
The last time Alison said “NO” like this she was swinging from a cage watching Jack spank Juliette. And after that time Jack stopped and talked to her and let her set some boundaries. But this time, the cage is woven of more delicate filaments. Alison will not be able to forbid Jack a pleasure that she has built her whole life around. So she's well and truly caged here. And I have the feeling she's going to just have to just “take it” and process it. And that it's somehow going to make a new woman out of her.
Tessa, I agree with you this scene is going to be really hard for Alison. But “hard” is what Alison is all about. She's taking the rocky road through life. In fact, I'm tempted to wonder if her frequent “killer deadlines” are just more of the same.
Dear Karl,
I much appreciate your detailed reply. I read it as extremely resonable. Somehow not all on us is reasonable when we read or follow an adventure for enjoyment as it is my case here. Maybe my femine sense of self, my vanity, my desire of reassurance blur my senses to savour this part of the story as you do. But it's fun altogether. It's a priviledge to know where we stand and realize others stand in different places. It's sort of re-evaluation as well, a prize which comes with the years I'd say.
I should confess when you say you doubt there are two other human beings alive on earth today who play quite like this it shakens
me a bit. I'm kind of scared of centerdness, as intense as this certainly is. Anyway it's amazing to follow the way Alison is leading this, roller coaster like.
Cheers,
Tessa
Tessa, I have a lot of respect for your point of view. I know you've been commenting for months now, maybe since near the beginning. It would seem you're having a very intense vicarious experience through Alison's story. I'm always glad to read where it's taking you.
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