FSOG Girl in the Garden
Intro: 0500 Friday, Spring morning in New York:
Laying on the floor of my New York penthouse overlooking central park. Laying here in pain, anguished beyond rational thought. Beyond any hope that last night's nightmare will never come true. How did I dream that horror last night? Something I could never be, do, someone I know; I am not. Laying cold, shaking in the throes of a terror sweat: The nightmares started last Sunday. Yes. That it. Reese my submissive was begging to skip the weekend.
Sunday afternoon. Seattle, Escala penthouse.
Reese my submissive can barely walk, or stand. The scene yesterday and last night were the most intense scenes; I've ever done. She'll be sore and bow legged for days. Feeling tired, yet on edge, like it wasn't enough. Like it did not feed the beast enough to slacken my thirst for relieve from my life. Several times she screamed yellow, then after a bit green. I could tell she wanted to scream red; would I have stopped if she did? I don't know.
Yesterday and last night was all about me, and me alone. Should I be a more carrying dom. Should I have focus more on her needs; but I didn't want to, I didn't care, and it doesn't seem to bother me. She needs to leave. Standing in front of me; I see the crack whore and I hate her and this poor excuse for a submissive.
"OK, I guess? I can do the New York trip this coming weekend. But week after: We will get even more intense. So you'd damn better be prepared. Now go, I have work to do." With that she's dismissed and leaves.
Once she left the penthouse. Instead of working; I just sit and play piano. My mood is darkening and foreboding. Why? I can't understand or even guess. What is wrong with me. An do I care if it can't be- cured. If the monster is really all I will ever be?
Monday:
I asked Andrea to schedule the New York trip Thursday to Sunday. I should do something for Grace? Maybe a Broadway show Saturday. Yea, that might make up for missing so many family dinners and events. "Andrea? Check what Broadways shows I can get three tickets for Saturday." Heading in to do more work.
Monday noon:
Elena called "congratulation on your weekend. Reese spent the whole morning in massage and skin treatments. You've out did yourself."
I feel miserable, and hurt. That what she focused on; how much damage I did to my submissive. The call ends as briefly as it begun. I have too much work to do. I don't want to dwell on submissive or Elena. I don't need the monster right now screwing up this paperwork.
I see the email with Broadway shows and times, nearby restaurants. Why did I ask for that shit? And delete it. Couldn't take my mother's harping the whole trip about my lack of dates, friends, and relationship: anyway. If she knew; they'd disown me. Staying till nearly midnight. I don't sleep much anyway.
Thursday:
The flight was boring, leaving me restless. The meetings are driving the inner beast to rear up and bite heads off. How do I keep hiring these losers? Should I do the work and not bother to have them screw it up and cost me all those salaries and perks. I leave just before midnight; the staff will probably be here in the morning. If they expect to have jobs that is.
I just roll over on my side; the nightmare explodes, trapping me.
"I'm walking in the darkness; I look to the sides, seeing flashes of the pimp, Grace in the hospital, Carrick scolding, teaching me to eat with a spoon and fork. The crack whore is making me brownies. The crack whore is holding me after the Pimp burned me, beat me. Mommy singing to me the element song.
Falling down a deep chasm. I scream with no words coming out; I've lost my voice like when I first became a Grey.
The bright vivid colors, reds, golds, yellows, greens leaf's cascade over me, like rain. Emerging into a forest of fall leaves, chilling fall day. Everything is in a state of change; from summers greens to falls fruit and renewal. The world around me is perfect. Looking down, a well-worn path underfoot. Something compels me to want to find out what is down the path. Something is waiting there for me. Following the well-worn path deeper into the forest. Deeper into the new world.
Coming to a fork. One way is vibrant; Leaf's in vivid reds, golds, yellows, and greens. A truly golden world. The other is monochrome: blacks, greys, haunting, a foreboding path. Bare branches offer no color, no warmth. No protection from the biting wind and cold. That way draws me. I think that is my path in this world. But is it? Which path should choose to walk?
"Christian, get in here now! I want you in position. In my playroom NOW! Christian!" Scream Elena causing my head to ache. My bones shake; freezing my blood. I turn to the darkness. Lifting one foot.
Whispers on the winds. "Christian, the food is getting cold. Come my man." A soft female voice just barely heard on a breeze of apples, lavender, sandal wood. Should I? Who is that?
My body without my mind steps to the colorfully path. Elena demanding screams become deafening increase. With every foot stepping onto the Colorful paths. I should go to Elena? Yet the whispered words, pulling me, drawing me deeper into this wonderful intriguing forest of fall colors. Every step, Elena become more desperate and the sweet voice becomes louder more joyful. Till only the sweet voice talking about a picnic lunch remains.
Turning a curve in the forest of beautiful colors. A plaid blanket lays before me, an ancient wicker picnic basket lays atop. A bottle of wine sits in an ice bucket. Covered food plates, sitting on top of the basket. I smell the fall leaves, apple blossoms and lavender. I smell goodness and love in the air, it's her!
"Where are you?"
"The wine needs opening, thing-ama-jig to open it is broken, again." The sweet sensual voice says behind me. I spin to no one.
"Where are you?"
"Right here, baby. Open the Wine, Christian. Please me." The voice melody sooths me. Taking the corkscrew, I deafly open the wine.
"Nothing wrong with the cork screw." I laugh.
I smell her; apples, and lavenders. Honey and sweet cider. Inhaling, feeling her hand run across my shoulder; Melting me to her touch. I try to turn, but she snakes her arms around me. Hugging me. We are suddenly both naked. I feel her breath on my shoulder, making me want everything with her. Sweet siren? "What spells have you wrought on my poor tormented soul."
"Christian, lay down." She lets go and I slump to the ground. The soft plaid blanket is heavenly. Looking up I see petite frame, lush long brown hair, hiding her face. She pours me a glass of wine, lays in my arms, her back to my front. Nibbling on her ear. She feeds me treats from the plate. I kiss her neck. Feeling her wanting me. All of me.
"Christian what do you want? This or darkness?" she asks.
"This!"
"All of this?"
"Yes."
"All of this?" She waves her arm outward. Forest morphs to Children playing on us. Graduations, weddings, parties, Playing with our grandchildren. Holding our great-grandchildren. Making love in the forest, on black sand beaches, in my airplane, in my bed. Cuddling her in grief. Our children holding me in my grief. Watching Her lowered into the ground. While family surrounds me; gray and withered in a wheelchair. Wishing I was with her."
This is my possible future? Do I want it. Could I even, have it? If I tried? I'm running thru the darkening forest. Searching for her: Running away from her. How did I get here? How do I get out? Wake up your miserable bastard. Please wake up.
I slam into a wall. Looking up, the dent in the drywall is nearly thru to the other room. The bed is a mess; mattresses flung about the room, broken lights, and furniture about me. I look at my hands. What have you done, Christian? A why are you running from her to darkness?
Everything in the dream haunts me. Curling into a ball and cry in terror. Why show me what I can never have, or be. I could never have any of those things. I'm a monster! I have no heart, no love, I am not lovable!
Taylor finds me. Nearly seven o'clock. He says nothing. I don't say anything.
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Monday, Seattle: Grey House
I fired Reese; I need a fresh submissive. One who doesn't cause nightmares. Thank God; the old nightmares of pimp and crack whore returned.
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Flynn-pov
"Why does that dream terrify you more than the pimp or Eliana?"
"It just does."
"Christian why?"
"Because it could never happen! I could never be like that, with anyone! Don't you understand?"
"Christian all those things you dreamed: The girl, the kids; All that could be yours. If you would just give Solution Focused Brief Therapy (SFBT) a try?"
"NO, it couldn't! I'm not loveable! I'm not loveable! I could never let anyone inside again; once she saw the true monster in me. She would leave. I couldn't survive a second rejection."
"Is that all, what you fear; the possible pain of the relationship failing?"
"Yes! No! A second would? No redemption, no possible redemption. No hope I could escape becoming the pimp, the crack whore, Eliana. No hope!" Christian stands, moving to the corner and examining the fiscus; so, I don't see the tears threating to unload. Once he's calmed his emotions; he'll sit back down. Something drastic must have happen to kick start his wanting to get better; not just walking around the issues. His deep-seated fear he's a unredeemable monster forged in his past. That monster would rule his tomorrow.
This dream of the girl in the meadow; is he ready to move forward? Is he realizing that the past ways he dealt with stress and emotions, needs to change? He needs to change? He needs hope, to believe someone telling him he's not the monster; he's convinced himself he is. As long as Eliana reenforces those negatives, he can't move on. Till something destroy the illusions he's created to hide behind.
Looking at the clock, we have ten more minutes dancing around the need he has to start Solution Focused Brief Therapy (SFBT) and move away from the past and stop rehashing the past.
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Christian-pov Friday Portland: WSU.
Walking with the college Deans and head of the agriculture department. Discussing my grant, and possible sites for the new Agrocenter I'm funding. We wander into the demonstration garden. The head of the agriculture department is giving us a running monologue of the edible plants, the beneficial plants. Working example of his and his departments work. How they have increase bee hives and honey in just the last two years with more selective plants and habitats.
We're passing an empty pond; Dean rattles on about the defunct Koi Pond. People kept stealing the fish. I look left and see my mother, Ella, she looks younger than I remember, unbeaten down, or drugged out. She smiles at me, tilting her head like she always did when thinking. Whispered long forgotten words; "You'll find what you seek, when you find yourself. You only need to believe, I loved you. A you can be free to love again. You'll always find happiness here in this garden. Even among winter blooms."
Startled by the vision; Hurrying my pace, I find this garden soothing, and very unsettling me. It's very much like Grace's flower garden at Grey Manor. Many a night; I lay among the flowers and plants and let the nightmares fade. Stop woolgathering, get back on track! We're headed to working dinner in the student run restaurant. It getting late. Talking, vaguely glimpsing a lone student sitting in secluded alcove, reading. Was this another vision of Ella? No of course not! Stop you're not crazy; just tired?
Smart student to find peace in the maelstrom of college. Something I only found while rowing at Harvard. Something wants me to go and talk to her; was she Ella or someone different. Would the nightmare become reality if I talked to her? But the monster flares. She is not for you. Not while I rule your heart and mind. Besides it could never be more. I forget about her. My inner demon commands, a I let him to my misery, believe him. It'll be three months before I return here anyway. The ghost of Ella will have faded, I hope.