A Tale of No One – Chapter 2 [NSFW] [BDSM] [Romantic]

A Tale of No One – Chapter 2

“It’s 205 w 110th street, please.” Mendelsohn nodded and turned up Amsterdam ave.
Alix stared out the window. She thought of Robert’s hand, sitting open-faced on the table. The invitation. Part of her wanted to take it even now. Part of her wanted to know what was on the other side of that invitation. He was a charlatan. He had good parlor tricks, but nothing more. Guessing at her dissatisfaction with life was hardly a stab in the dark. And yet, he seemed genuine, and he was right, he could have any number of women, call-girls and not, with just a phone call. So, if not sex, then what? Surely it was sex. It was always sex.
She bit her lip. Sex. It had been a while. A drunken liaison with an Englishman on Fleet street. He had been rougher than most, not in a bad way. But the English, they don’t ever listen. And they think they know what suave is. It fulfilled a need, and the next morning she was on a plane back to America. He emailed a few times, more to set up a recurring theme on her visits, but she had politely declined. She had used up her lust and now he was just a reminder of shame.
Her mind turned back to Robert. The Englishman had never shown interest in her beyond the physical. He didn’t even notice her unhappiness. It just made her a bit of a bitch, and he liked that type of woman. Robert had noticed it, and rather than ignore it or give it cursory acknowledgement, he had called to it. It didn’t frighten him. He could not be intimidated by her. Her ‘exoticness’, her aloofness, he had turned that into a delight. ‘Cockmonster’ she thought, and smiled. That spark of pins and needles returned and pressed against her chest. This time at brought with it a little of the lust and fire. What did he mean to ‘pull out her sadness’? What would he do to her to get it? There was a danger there, a primal fear. It was raw and strong in the senses. It was also very, very alluring.
Alix stifled a sigh. It couldn’t be that dangerous, she thought. It’s a multi-millionaire in a famous hotel. He wasn’t a serial killer. But he could also make anything disappear. Disappear. Her animal brain sent Goosebumps down her spine and gave her a tiny shot of adrenalin. It was meant to give her the power to fight or to flight, but it only served to ratchet up the sensations her mind bestowed to her body. She touched her thigh. Did she mean to go back? What would happen? Anything. *Nothing*. She had to find out. She had to know now. Fulfill the lust and then leave. He would not want her after and that would be fine. She would be another conquest. Vanquished and taken. Willingly given but taken nonetheless. She had to know.
“Mendelsohn.” she said. “Take me back to the hotel.”
On the way to the hotel Alix turned off the dome light, slid off her heels, and ran her hands up her thighs. Her skin tingled and she thought of playing with herself, of coming before she arrived. It would be the wise choice. Her desire spent, she would no longer feel the need to go to a stranger’s room. It would not be the first time Mendelsohn received conflicting demands from a woman in Walden’s car, she thought. But instead, she slid her stockings off and put them in her purse. She didn’t want to wait around to put them on after this was over, and she didn’t want to leave them as some sort of trophy for him.
The car pulled into the drive at the hotel. Mendelsohn got out and opened her door. This was the moment of truth. She could still leave, turn back, say no. I have to know said the voice behind the pins and needles. Her depression had been pushed to the periphery, content to languish in the background, waiting for its moment to return, with a fresh healthy harvest of shame to feed on.
Mendelsohn reached in and offered his hand. Without hesitation she took it. As he walked her to the door, he placed a card in her hand. “Room 1512. I will tell him you are here.” She walked through the opened door and into the bright lights of the lobby. Compared to the dark, cloistered safety of the car the light was bright and it left her feeling exposed.
She wavered by the door, debating, arguing in her head. The rational side gave reasoned cogent arguments against the decision to go to the elevator. The emotional pressed as if pushing her from behind. Urging her, teasing her with hints of fear crossed with excitement. She swallowed her fear and pressed on. Before she had time to think, she was up the elevator and standing in front of his door. The primal in her pressed against her ribs, increased her heart rate and breathing and willed her forward. She felt like a passenger in her surrender. It was another self that dropped the key in lock, saw the light turn green and heard the soft click of the latch dropping. She opened the door and stepped into the darkness
 

ACT 1 – CONTROL
 

The room was dark compared to the outside. At first Alix though Robert must already be asleep, but then as her eyes adjusted she saw him just beyond a large pair of French doors, sitting in a chair in the corner of his bedroom. A single light illuminated him. He was reading a very large, very boring looking book. He had reading glasses on. When he heard her footsteps, he took them off, folded them and placed them and the book on the table next to him.
He looked into the darkness and beckoned her. He could only see her silhouette illuminated by the hallway light shining from under the doorjamb. Alix walked slowly toward him. His large dark eyes followed the sway of her as she emerged from the darkness. She stopped at the doorway.
“You are here.” He replied.
“I am.”
“Are you ready?” He asked. There was a pleasant smile on his lips, but a look of earnestness in his eyes. Alix was afraid but not in fear anymore. Something about him showed her that. He was so calm, so direct that she knew that he was a man of his word. He promised an experience, and she meant to get it.
“I am.”
“Then come to me.” Alix approach, walking up to the edge of the chair. She was standing to the side of his right leg. Her hands lay gently at her side because for once, she had no idea what to do with them. He took her hand in his and languidly worked his eyes up her body until they met hers.
“I suspect like most people, you’ve had things taken from you in your life.” he said.
“Yes, of course.” She replied. It was an odd turn of phrase and it made her nervous again. “Why?”
“Because what I want, I want you to give me.” She didn’t know what he meant, of what to say, but she wanted to show something affirmative despite her fear and confusion. She squeezed his hand.
“Do you understand? I won’t take it from you. It doesn’t work if it’s taken. It must be given.”
“What must be given?” She asked. He let go of her hand and extended his palm out as he had before, offering for her to take it.
“Control.”
“You wish to control me?” Up until now desire had been winning the day, but this declaration of his, it threatened her depression, the very thing she had come to cherish and take comfort from, as he had described.
“You wish to be controlled.”
“You can’t possibly- you don’t know that.” She stammered. She took a step back. He merely stayed there, with his hand extended.
“You are right.” He replied. “Which is why you must give it to me, or not. But I cannot take it.” She took another step back. He could see her receding into the darkness. “Alix, you’ve come this far. Have the experience I promised you. You have to know.”
 

*I have to know.* Her own inner voice responded back. The pins and needles pressed forward, pushing the depression off its foothold.
 
She took one small step forward. Robert remained still, his left hand extended, palm up. She took another cautious step. Robert kept his eyes on her face, her lovely porcelain face. The depressive mask she wore at dinner was still there, but relegated to the edges. A fire, probably fear, cast her eyes with a light previously unseen. Beautiful as it was, even now he could sense the depression clawing, searching for a new inroad to gaining the control it wanted and was so used to. The power of her passion seemed to be the only thing keeping it at bay.
Alix took another step closer. “You have to give it.” He replied. Alix slid her hand into his. His palms were rough-hewn and cragged. He held her hand firm, but gently. He pulled her one step closer. “You have to say it. You have to hear the words leave your lips to feel it.”
Alix stood there, transfixed. Her mouth was slightly parted. A wave of excitement ran up her body. Her mind raced. Should she? Why was she here? Who is he? Will I die? What if I want control back? What is happening? But the one that spun the most and made it to the top of the list: I have to know. She felt the pins and needles feeling in her chest start to form the words and push them up and out. It was if the emotion was saying it. As they emerged from her mouth and passed her lips, each syllable carried with it an exquisite pleasure.
 
“I give you control.”
 
She exhaled deeply and for a moment she thought her knees might buckle.
“Good.” Robert smiled. His right hand moved from his lap to her leg. His callused fingers gently touched the back of her knee. Alix let out a small gasp. Slowly he moved it up her leg until he reached the hem of her skirt. Then on the outside of her skirt, he ran his hand softly but firmly all the way up until it cupped her ass. He held it there for a moment as she instinctively flexed her muscle. He moved it further up until it was on the small of her back. Alix could feel the warmth in his hand, pressing gently on her back. At that position, it took only a little pressure to make her bend like a willow in the breeze. With just his hand, he rocked her forward and back, stopped her motion, then guided her side to side. There was no reason for it, except to show her how easily she could be guided.
Alix found it hard to focus. Her mind was racing but it was a whirlwind of mixed emotions that threatened to cloud her out. She begged for distraction from her own thoughts. She fixed her eyes on his face. She watched his blue-black eyes as they studied her form. She traced the edge of his nose. Broken and broad, she followed the line of it from the bridge down to the slight left turn it took. She studied the slight angle in his face. Off kilter. Not monstrous, she thought, but not glamorous.
She felt a snap behind her and it woke her from her daydream. The next sensation was of his fingers, running the zipper of her skirt down, down, down until the base of her derriere. He held the skirt in position for a moment and looked up at her. She shook all over, but remained as still as she could, her hands remaining at her sides. Up until now this had been mostly theoretical. But now, this would be intimate. He let go of the clasp and the skirt fell quick and silent to the floor.
With his hands Robert turned Alix a quarter turn towards him. He was still seated, his head coming up to her midriff. She stood in front of him, her blouse just barely covering her front. He placed both hands on her thighs. Slowly he ran them up, taking time to enjoy the sensation of her warm skin, until his hands were underneath her blouse. He flared the blouse out from her body and undid the bottom two buttons. Then he parted the blouse, exposing her midriff and light blue lace panties. He ran his fingertips of his right hand along the top of them, feeling the fringe against flesh. As he passed left and right a radiant stab of pleasure coursed through Alix. He leaned forward and placed a very soft kiss on her tummy. Then, just as gently he buttoned her blouse back up and turned her back to the left.
Robert adjusted himself forward in his chair until he was seated almost on the edge. He held his back straight as an arrow. “I want you to kneel for me.” he said. Alix made to move in front of him. She let out a haughty huff, assuming kneeling meant he wanted her to perform oral sex on him. ‘Typical’ she thought to herself. One kiss on the belly and he wants a blowjob in return. She wondered if, to him, giving control up meant giving up her enjoyment.
His left hand slid up her front and stopped her movement. Deftly he guided her back to her original position standing beside him. “I didn’t ask you to move, Alix. I asked you to kneel. Giving me control means more than letting me be on top. It means giving up thinking you know what I want.” He placed his left hand on her hip and his right hand on her left arm, pressing it back against her side. “It means you can give up searching for hidden meanings and wondering what I am really thinking. It means you give me control. Over you.” He pulled lightly on her arm. She found, much to her surprise, that though her mind questioned his words, her body did not. Soon she was on her knees beside him. Her eyes were level with his.
“I want you to repeat it before we begin, and this time, think about what it means.” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “Humans are lucky. We have both the animal desire and the brain. Our animal desire makes sure we reproduce. It compels us, it drives us from some deep, inborn place. If it didn’t we would cease to be. But we also have the brain, a reasoning, thinking thing. Something that can imagine life where man has never been, and can picture worlds that have never existed. It can also create phantoms where there are none and spin rules and logic over desire it cannot understand or reason with. It seeks to control our baser desires, where at best it should just guide them. What it cannot control, it will bury and lock up, if you let it. But your mind is not different from you, Alix. It is you. You can control it, or you can let it run free, separate of the rules you agreed to. So I ask you to understand, and say the words again.”
Her forebrain came up with a hundred reasons why she should not say the words, but even now, part of her consciousness saw the reason in his logic. Her desire felt a weakness and threw itself at the gates of her mind. It built up and up, charging and pressing, trying to break through. It released everything it had into her system: adrenaline, endorphins, dopamine. Her rational brain felt compromised. Fearing a total failure, it did the reasonable thing and ceded control to the only other rational entity in the room, Robert.
“I give control to you.” She said as her mind submitted to him. He took his right hand, and placing it on her back gently guided her atop his thighs. As she lay down atop his thighs, she placed her hands on the ground in front of him and let her chest sink into his legs. His hand ran down her back to her ass. He ran it under the tail of her blouse and pushed it onto her back. Then his hands ran the course of her ass. She could feel the roughness of them as he rubbed her soft skin. Real hands. Hands that earned their scars. He rubbed her left buttock in a circular motion, soft then harder. Then repeated it with the right. He pulled it back and then with a swift motion, slapped her right cheek. She yelped. It was hard, and there was a little sting, and she felt that tingling sensation in her chest shoot to all extremities. He rubbed where he had slapped, easing and ameliorating the blow. She half expected him to ask if she liked it, but she knew that he knew she did. He rubbed her left cheek vigorously and then a quick whip and slap of her cheek. She threw back her head. “Do you like slapping my ass?” she asked. He said nothing. He merely squeezed her right cheek, rubbed it firmly and smacked it again. This time the slap connected well with her willing flesh and the sound permeated the room.
“Do you like it?” She asked, this time more searching and less rhetorical in her question. Still, he said nothing. He merely continued grabbing, rubbing, slapping. The rhythm was hypnotic. With each slap the pins and needles radiated out, terminating in her fingers and toes. Still, a part of her wanted to know why he would not speak. Why would he not respond to her. What was wrong?
“Tell me what -OH!- tell me what you want!” She demanded.
“I want you to stop thinking.” He said, not stopping the routine.
“Do you like this?” she pleaded.
“I want-” slap, rub, squeeze.
“You to-” Slap, rub, squeeze.
“stop.” he stopped slapping her ass. Alix felt the absence of his lash in a way she didn’t expect. She instantly missed it. Instead of being coy, or obstinate, she wished only to know how to stop, how to continue the experience.
“How?” she begged, for she honestly did not know. Robert began rubbing her cheeks again.
“Give.” he said. He slapped her again, this time harder than before. Though harder than any other slap there was less pain than the lightest slap. She bit her lip and pressed her torso into his legs. For the first time she could feel his cock, hard and pressed against her. She did not want this to end. She searched for the right words to say but came up blank. She decided to simply submit to the experience. Only after a few moments of pure pleasure did words come to her. She did not hesitate.
“I give you control.”
Robert slapped a little harder. The pins and needles radiated through again.
“I give you control.” she repeated. Another slap. More pins and needles. The tingling began to linger in her fingers and toes after each shockwave.
“I give you control!” Her mind turned off. Another slap, another surge of pleasure. The sensation built in her extremities. Robert slapped, rubbed and slapped again. With every smack of Robert’s hand the sensation grew and the tingling built in her fingers and toes, now it filled her ankles and wrists, now her elbows.
“I give you control.” She said, almost rote. The slaps continued. She didn’t think, only felt. Robert’s hard cock pressed against her midriff. The tingling was now at her shoulders and knees. She felt it in her scalp and ears, too. She could feel her conscious mind giving way as the animal emotion bashed repeatedly against the gate. She could feel the gate failing.
Robert’s left hand was draped under her, across her shoulders. He freed it to pull her hair back. She arched her head with it and released a low, deep moan. He felt the moan reverberate low and steady across her chest and stomach. His cock pumped in response to it. He ran his hand around the front of her, acting as a brace for her when she came. She pressed her head down into his hand.
“I give you control!” She shouted. She moved her head around wildly, searching for his hand, and upon finding it, pressed her neck into it. Robert cupped her neck in his left hand and slapped her ass with his right.
Alix pushed her head down, forcing her neck into his hand. She began repeating the words over and over again. Robert held her neck, but did not squeeze. He accepted her offering. He continued slapping. Alix could feel herself disappearing as the tingling moved now from her shoulders to her chest, and from her knees up her thighs. Robert pulled his right arm back and slapped both cheeks. The brain let open the gates. The animal rushed through. She could feel it charging through her, desperate to burst free as the tingling sensations all converged in her center.
“I-” she exclaimed, her body rocking, her head pushing her neck hard into his hand. “I give-” It was all she could get out before a thunderous wave of pleasure raced through her. Her center pulsed and contracted. She pulled her thighs into him. Her toes curled to the point she lost one of her shoes. She pushed her head down then rocked it up. Alix screamed in pleasure. Robert took the hand that cradled her neck and grabbed her by the shoulders for support. Robert could feel her stomach muscles, tight as a washboard, pressing down hard on his thighs. Alix jerked forward a few times, shuddered a full body shudder, and collapsed in his lap.
Robert slid his left hand off her shoulders and cupped her cheek with it. With his right hand he placed her blouse tail back down and rested his hand on the small of her back. Her eyes were closed. A sense of ease washed over her. She wanted for nothing, resented nothing, thought of nothing. The pulse of pure pleasure had obliterated the depression hiding in the fringe of her subconscious. It was like an opiate. Everything was warm, and cozy. She let loose a low giggle. She hadn’t felt like this for 10, maybe 12 years. It felt like being a teenager again. It felt like the warm August Breton sun beating down on her tawny skin.
The relief gave way to another feeling. It was as if a long dammed floodgate had been opened. A river of raw emotion welled up and flooded out. Her giggle transitioned into a sob. Long, slow heaving sobs began emanating from her. Robert gently stroked her back in response. She felt innocent and renewed. She didn’t understand the tears. Alix could only think to repeat in her native tongue ‘Je n‘est pas triste, Je n’est pas triste.’ Robert caressed her and replied “I know you’re not sad.”
The tears passed in a minute, and Alix lifted herself up from his lap. Her eyes were red and puffy.
“I must look a mess.” She replied.
“You look real.” He stroked her cheek. She pressed her face into his hand and closed her eyes or a moment. She remembered his erection. She opened her eyes. “Would you like…” she asked, gesturing clumsily towards his penis. “ I can, if you want-”
“No.” he replied. “I’m fine.”
“I don’t mind.”
“If I want it, I will let you know what and when. That’s the nature of control. You don’t have to guess. But I’m fine for now.”
“Are you …“ She pulled back a bit from him. It hadn’t occurred to her that the scene might still be going on. “Still in control now?”
“I think this is a good point to stop.” he replied, smiling. “Thank you for trusting me. I give control back to you, Alix.” He eased back in his chair.
Being back in control brought an instant confusion with it. Alix did not know if he wanted her to go, or to stay. Did he want her to take charge, order him around? She didn’t know what he expected her to do, or to say. “This -tonight- was unexpected.” she stood up.
“I think that is a complement. “ He replied.
“Yes. It is. I have had that experience you promised.” She fumbled to pick up her skirt. “I should go.” Already embarrassment and a hint of shame were beginning to make their way back into her mind. Destroyed as they were, they could always be rebuilt. Behind them would come loathing and self-doubt. The four horsemen of her depression.
“I think you should stay.” he replied, watching her pull up her skirt. “I would like you to stay.”
“I really should go.” He watched amazed at how, even when hurriedly slapping on their clothes, women could be so majestic and feline. In Alix’s mind his eyes were judging her, evaluating her. What a frump she must be right now. She tucked in her blouse and slipped on her heel and walked over to him. She didn’t know if she should kiss him, or kneel, or just what he expected so she awkwardly extended her hand. “Thank you for your time this evening.” It was all she could think to say. Alix was now desperate to be beyond the door and in the hallway, putting distance between the awkward goodbye and herself.
Robert let loose a little laugh, not insulting, just bemused. He took her hand firmly. “It was my pleasure, Ms.- you never did give me your last name.”
“Parisot.” She replied.
“Ms. Alix Parisot.” She let go of his hand. Part of her wanted him to hold onto her, but he did not. She turned and walked to the door.
“I think you should stay.” he repeated. She stopped, half in the light/half in the shadow of the dark parlor. Her back was turned to him. “I think you should stay, because if you leave you will be ashamed of this moment for the rest of your life. You’ll tell yourself it was a shameful thing, and you will believe it. But it wasn’t shameful, Alix. It was beautiful. This moment can be an end for you, or it can just be the beginning. The choice is yours, but I think you should stay.” She could hear him get up and move about the bedroom.
“Are you ordering me to stay?”
“I am not in control right now.” he replied. She heard a sound like him taking off his jacket and his accessories. “You are. You have to make a simple decision that will define for you what just happened. There is no gray area here. You stay or you go, but you must decide.” She heard the sound of him pulling back the bed sheets.
“If I stay…” She asked. She turned around. He was standing by the bed. He was mostly undressed.
“We go to sleep like normal people.” He replied, slipping out of his slacks and into pjs. “It’s 2 am and it’s a Tuesday.” He hopped under the covers and lifted up the other end in invitation.
 
At 4 am, when Alix was sure Robert was asleep, she broke from his embrace, gathered her things and left. He made no objection this time.

End of Chapter 2

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/4atpit/a_tale_of_no_one_chapter_2_nsfw_bdsm_romantic