My dear little broccolis💚💚💚
💚 So, this story is dedicated to two particular authors with whom I have briefly touched on those issues, and who make amazing stories. paleseptember10 & Krooela. Go check them out, you won't regret it.
💚 Fallen Angel💚
How would have Christian Grey's life turned out if the Greys had intervened when Elena tried to sink her claws into him? Would he still be the same man as we know, or someone completely different ...
‼️Rated M - {Out Of Characters/All Human/Alternate Universe}‼️
‼️Romance/Angst/Drama/Lemons‼️
‼️AS/CG/The Greys/The Steeles/Jack Hyde/Elena Lincoln‼️
Chapter 5: Purgatory (2,2K)
Christian's Pov
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
Throughout the week, Rose and I communicate via texts, and I'm not going to lie, she made me laugh more than once. I've been named all kinds of creeps: serial killer, kidnapper, stalker, mystical creature; and every time, she sent me screenshots of her changing my name to all those things. Yeah, I get it, it's odd, but it's funny.
She's a student (not that I'm surprised, she looks young) and she lives in Portland. I got lucky to meet her, she was only in Seattle to accompany a friend who had an important meeting and make the drive back and forth less boring. She's studying literature, which explains why she keeps on turning everything I write against me.
Apparently, after the first year, she got tired of the long back and forth between her father (who lives in Olympia) and campus, so she moved in with her best friend. They're planning to come to Seattle after graduating and 'grace the city with their presence' as she says.
I didn't tell her much about myself. Mostly, I echoed what she said. I told her I was working in a big corporate company (which is true, I just omitted the part where I was the CEO of that company). I briefly told her I had a brother and a sister when she said she was an only child, but we mostly bonded over our hobbies. Well, one in particular.
The girl likes climbing. I can't wait for Mia to come back from her month in the Sahara and rub that in her face. Mia hates climbing with a passion. Which is odd, because she's rather sporty otherwise. But Rose loves climbing. In fact, it's the first thing she looked for when she knew she was moving to Seattle, a club where she could wall-climb.
So I told her about my passion for swimming (let's not scare the girl away telling her how I like to beat a boxing bag on a daily basis when she already thinks I'm a serial killer). This led to an extensive discussion of a day out rock climbing and jumping in a lake as an end result. More like, crazy little Rose was trying to make that a viable plan, and I killed the idea every step of the way. No one is cliff jumping under my watch. Seriously.
But anyway, all in all, it's been a good week. I've been missing Elliott, but I know he has this big project in Portland so I can't necessarily fault him. Though … I am starting to think this big project might actually be someone. He's been on it for three months, coming back to the city only on weekends so he doesn't miss the Sunday roast (Grace will not hesitate to hunt him down to Portland and bring him by the ear).
Anyway, it's Friday, and Fridays are the days I go to the club. It was odd at first, but now, it's just how it is. To make it simple, shortly after I turned eighteen, and after a few failed attempts to date girls that only resulted in me being angry at myself, Martha suggested that she brought in a sex therapist to a few of our sessions.
That was back when I was still pretty fucked up and I was seeing her three times a week. Yeah, as I said, pretty fucked-up. So Django joined in the fun of our Friday sessions. Django is … Django. The only reason I know he's a man is his name and the fact that he never corrected me when I referred to him as a he. He's what we call … androgyne. But he does his job well, so what do I care.
So anyway, after sessions and sessions of talking about how having issues being touched is definitely a problem when it comes to having sexual relationships, Django suggested BDSM. Which resulted in me shouting (yeah, I was not so in control of my anger back then). Martha said nothing, letting me shout like every time I did, looking at me impassively.
When I calmed down, Django explained that the whole thing is not actually as twisted as what the bitch made it seem. As long as it's consensual and all. But I wasn't really convinced. It took him a few more sessions for him to convince me to accompany him into a club and see for myself.
And as I said, it was odd. I was almost nineteen then, and going to a BDSM club to look at a scene, accompanied by my therapist felt as if I was in middle school. But … it sort of works. I just watch. I guess I could watch porn, but porn never feels real.
So I just live vicariously and jerk off to scenes every Friday. I never watch the heavy shit, because … that's not for me. And the bondage is arousing, but not all the time. I like the simple scenes and fantasise of this happening to me. You know, touching and being touched without fear of having a full-blown panic attack in the middle of sex.
Martha keeps trying to make me work on that touch issue. Lately, she tells me I should get a pet, but I'm not home enough. Maybe if I tell my parents to get a dog, I could get into it, bit by bit.
My family knows what I do on Friday nights. I first told Elliott and the perv that he is asked to come with me. It's not much his thing, but that's because he likes when a girl touches him. He did say that he picked up a few ideas from the place though, and there is no doubt in my mind that Elliott wouldn't mind getting a dominatrix.
It was a bit harder to tell my parents. We never clearly had the conversation about Elena, but Eric told me that he told them everything. We've had some half-words about it, but I'm not comfortable talking about it with them. And even less talking about my sex life (or lack thereof).
So we don't talk much about it. They just know that I don't date (for obvious reasons) and that I found some sort of healthy way to find some sort of relief that doesn't cause me pain or panic attacks.
Oddly enough, it's Mia who's the most involved in that part of my life. Even if I wish she wasn't. For fuck's sake, she's my baby sister! But sometimes, she's so much like Elliott and she forgets to use a filter when she talks. She's given me a couple of erotica books, for when I travel and can't actually get to a scene.
And we've had a couple of those conversations when she was tipsy talking about the ridiculousness of staged porn. I honestly don't know how they do it. Being an actor must be hard enough with all hose directions, but pornstar … yeah, at least Mia and I could laugh about it, and the editing and the lighting. As I said, she was tipsy, I was tired.
So … here I am, in a small room that has a black mirror and shows a larger room. I know there are several other rooms linking to that central room. I know that, if I could actually touch a woman, I would never be able to do it in front of others. But some people get off to the mere idea. And some people get off by watching.
Over the years, it has become disconcertingly easy to ignore the guy. I don't see them anymore, no matter their height, size, ethnicity. Even the girls. I see … the intimacy between them. The way they touch each other, please each other, trust each other. The thing I'd never get. Yeah … I'll die a virgin.
This is something that Django and Martha have been hammering down on me, I'm still a virgin, no matter what happened with Elena. Even Elliott agrees with them. In fact, he's a hard petitioner of the pet idea (Martha has been on my back with that since I moved out), saying that a cute dog is the best way to flirt. Did I mention that Elliott likes to flirt? In fact, he likes the game more than the end result.
He's also the one petitioning that I should just tell girls out there that I'm into bondage but … I'm not really. I don't know, it might make me sickeningly cheesy, but I want to share this deep level I see in scenes. That level of complete and utter trust in the other partner. And every time bondage has been in the play, the two players knew each other.
So I can't really go to a girl I don't know and ask her to let me tie her up. And even after meeting the girl and getting to know her, I can't bring myself to see my first time with a girl with her being tied up. It just feels … wrong. I wouldn't like that for myself.
Anyway, I keep trying to focus on the couple, so I can get my kick and get on for the next week, but … there is something missing. I just can't get hard. it's not like they don't have chemistry, they definitely do. There's just … something missing.
So I focus on the plastic of the girl, on her curves, and the way she's panting, begging the guy for release, and as my eyes travel to her face, I know what's missing. I shake my head, because nope, and I get up. There's no point trying to jerk on something that doesn't arouse me.
Once home, I go straight to the boxing room, doing my best to ignore what I've been thinking about in the little black room. Who I've been thinking about. One, she's too young. Two, she's too sweet, she doesn't need my fucked up issues. Three, it's just friendship.
When I am beyond the point of exhaustion, I grab a quick shower and get to bed, checking my phones for any important matter, and I see a text from her. Of course, she had to text me when I least needed it. Though to be fair, she sent it quite a while ago.
So I have to thank you. Talking about swimming and all, I realised that I have never skinny-dipped, and now, we decided to do that tonight with a group of friends. If you didn't live all the way to Seattle, I would have invited you too, but I guess your Friday night is bound to be boring, hunting for a poor soul to kidnap and kill. ~ Rose
… You know that boner that didn't want to come earlier? Well, it's here, present and ready for action. I stare at the text, so many different emotions coming at once. In a way, I wish I had seen it earlier, I would have definitely made my way to see that … or not.
And friends? What friends? Guys or girls? And where is she even skinny dipping? Is it somewhere public? Private? In one of her friends' houses?
And do I get to ask for a picture? If I do, it's pretty clear that it's more than friendship that I want. And that's why I decide not to respond. I know that it's going a dangerous road if I start talking to her right now. I'm horny, and she's naked. It's not a good combination.
Still, me, myself and Dick can partake in a little fantasy, thinking of what might have happened if she had skinny-dipped with just me.
It certainly wouldn't have been in public, and certainly not with other people. Just the two of us. And I would have gotten to see her whole body, I would have gotten to see if the rest of her is as flawless as her face. I wouldn't have feared her touching me, I would, in fact, have revelled in it. I would have gotten to kiss her everywhere making her feel with every inch of me how much I want her.
I close my eyes and jerk off to this fantasy that will never come true.
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚
💚 So, now we know what Christian does for his sexual frustrations. He still has major touch issues, and it blocks him when it comes to the idea of being with a girl. And he craves more than the sex, he craves intimacy ...
💚 And he has decided that this was just a friendship with Rose ... What do you think about that?
💚 And do you think Rose only wants a friendship with her lovely serial killer?
💚 And small mention of Elliott being regularly in Portland for the past three months ...
💚Well, let me know what you thought of this chapter. What was your favourite part? What do you think will happen next?
💚 E L James owns the names of the characters from the Fifty Shades franchise, Everything else is mine (including the mistakes and grammar errors).
Love, Mina 💚💚💚