Absorbing White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “It’s over, Lucinda. My heart is not here anymore.” Who the hell is Lucinda? I do wish these people would just have one name.

  “Get on the fucking floor,” she shouts again, louder this time, so much so that the boards beneath my feet shake.

  “No, I do not wish for that any longer.”

  “You will fucking beg then, and I’ll still say no. You will do as you’re told. It is my right, and...” He grips her harder, squeezing her wrists as she twists them in his hands and tries to pull away again.

  “There will be no begging, no servitude, no games. I will no longer allow you to control me. Our time has come to an end.”

  “You can’t say that. You love me. Do as you are fucking told.”

  “That is quite irrelevant. This is still finished.”

  He taps his foot on the floor and holds his hand out. I have no idea what that means, but as Alex steps out of the darkness and holds the cane out to me, I can only assume I’m supposed to take it to him. So I carefully take it from Alex, as he nods ever so slightly in the direction of Pascal, and walk across towards them. She scowls at my approach and opens her mouth to shout. I have absolutely no clue why, but I drop my eyes as if something private is going on again between them, some sort of secret code that I’m not to be part of, or witness to for that matter.

  He holds the cane up to her face and tips her chin with it towards Alex as she struggles against it.

  “This is his now, and then hers. It will never be yours again. Am I making myself clear?”

  My loud gasp at the comment doesn’t go unnoticed as she flings her eyes toward me and sneers again. I have a feeling that while she may be backing down a little, she will never believe that, nor accept it. Her glare is enough for me to take small steps away until I hit the table behind me.

  “You will crawl back to me. You know you will. This is all futile. You’ll have no choice,” she snaps as she grabs onto the cane and tries to wrench it off of him. He holds it firm and eventually breaks her grasp on it until they’re just staring at each other again. Are they having their own internal dialogue now? It’s like fucking la la loopy land in here – not normal, not normal at all. I can only hope that I fully appreciate this whole thing one day, truly understand what on earth is happening around me.

  “Give it to him,” Pascal says. She steps away from him instantly and spits on his jacket. I hate spitting. I could slap her face off for that. How dare she? Bitch. My feet are itching to walk over and do something about it, including wiping it off his probably five thousand pound suit. “I will ask you one more time before I remind you of the past. Respect has never been your finest quality, has it, my love? You should follow the rules I slaved to teach you before I am forced to forget the few manners I have.”

  Oh, that’s thrown me… I thought she was in control of him? What the bloody hell is going on now?

  She sneers again. She’s very clearly not going to do anything of the sort. He gives her about one more minute of staring before picking her up and forcing her over the desk beside me. Her heels kick out at him, and then her nails scratch out at me so I move away slowly to give them the room for whatever is about to happen. I’m so engrossed in it that I don’t realise I’ve bumped into Alex until he grabs me around my waist and snakes a hand onto my stomach.

  “Are you wet, Elizabeth? I think you are.”

  “What?”

  “Keep watching,” he growls as his hand moves to my thigh and drifts its way up my leg and under my dress. My fingers instantly go to stop him, because however nice it might feel, I am not doing this, not until we’ve had our conversation anyway. His other hand is on mine, moving it and pinning it behind my back immediately, wrenching it upward slightly to increase the pressure and drive me down towards the ground until I land on my knees. “Wider,” he says as he pushes onto my thighs and forces them apart. I try to keep them closed, really I do, but I just haven’t got the strength to fight him, and he smells so good, and Pascal is being so aggressive, and... “You know what to say to stop me, don’t you?” he whispers in my ear as he drags those damn teeth up my neck and reminds me who he is again. I could at least try to stop him I suppose. I don’t. I just keep staring at the physical conversation that’s happening in front of me and try to stop the sudden onslaught of trembling that’s overtaken my body. I haven’t got any hope of being in control in here. I should get up and walk out. I should tell them all to go to hell and enjoy their strange little world, but I can’t take my eyes off what’s happening. Cogs begin clicking into place as I start to comprehend the dynamics around me. This battle between Alex and Roxanne is about ownership of Pascal, and the battle between Roxanne and Pascal is about who is now in charge. The original teacher, it seems, is now beginning to reverse the roles again, maybe to show the former student who is going to control the outcome and allow the situation to change. Manners – he said manners, as if this world has any manners in it at all. But as I watch him pin her and push her around, I can almost feel the order in his complicated brain. This is rude to him and disrespectful to Alex, and she should be put in her place for her reaction. As if she should know better than to not challenge some set of unwritten rules that I have absolutely no clue about. Or maybe I’m starting to, no matter how confusing.

  Pascal’s suddenly ripping at Roxanne’s clothes as she squirms and squeals beneath him. He’s mumbling in that language I don’t understand again and holding her so fiercely I can actually feel the winces coming from her mouth.

  “You will be honourable to him,” he suddenly shouts at her, and with one quick movement, the entire backside of her trousers comes away from her skin, torn to shreds by his irritation with her. “I’ll fuck it out of you if you refuse to yield.”

  “Pascal, no,” she shouts again as she tries yet again to get away from him. His hand clamps her neck as his feet kick her legs wide, perfect precision in his movements as he aligns every part of his body to cause carnage. I can see it coming a mile off, hear it in her screams, and taste it in the air around us. This is the master at work. This is probably the man who found Alex, helped him and channelled him into the man he is now. There is not one bit of forgiveness or pleasantness about him. He’s as comfortable with what he’s doing as he is with breathing. No, maybe more so. One final forcing of his thigh into the back of her knee to hold her in place and her plunges his fingers into her so hard she screams and shoots across the table, and at the very moment I hear the noise, Alex’s fingers push into me forcefully. I can’t breathe, it’s so intense, so very intense. Stars are almost on top of me before I even realise what’s happening. I hear more screams and swearing as she tries to get away from his hand, which is ramming in and out with such power I find myself mesmerised by it. My core begins pushing into Alex’s hands as I almost feel her body writhing about, her thighs slamming forward with every thrust of his arm, her neck being held down precisely as he turns her to face us and snarls more foreign words at her. The look in her eyes is angry, ferocious. There is nothing she’s enjoying here, and yet there’s nothing she can do to stop it other than beg and presumably safeword. Unfortunately for me, I can’t help but feel even more excited by that, whether it’s because of what she’s done or because she’s fighting, I don’t know, but there’s no denying my reaction to it. It’s potent, very nearly spellbinding.

  Alex slowly draws his fingers out of me and brings them up to my mouth for her to witness.

  “Suck them,” he says to me. I’m one part infuriated by the command and two parts horny as hell. My legs are trembling, my stomach is warming, my brain is firing with all sorts of visions, and my core is crying out for more of his hands. Or maybe Pascal’s hands, which are now leaving her body and, with one loud crack, spanking her so hard she screams again and tries to kick out at him. Fingers still hover in front of me as I try to make my mind up what the hell is happening to me. “Now, Elizabeth, before I make you.” His slow tone is so scathing and threatening, I move my mouth straight to his
fingers and pull them inside. The first taste of myself is almost enough for me to explode, and I sense my core trying to find some sort of purchase on anything – anything to make this ache go away. My vision swims as Pascal’s hand hits her again, and again, and again. So hard, so very hard, and it’s all I can do to keep myself upright instead of leaning toward them to feel her pain even more.

  “Pascal, please...” she tries to say as he backs away slightly and wrenches at his belt with one hand.

  “Do you not remember my name? Let me remind you, my dear,” he says calmly to her as he unbuttons his jacket. There’s not even a hint of anger anymore. He’s utterly in control. Every move, every thought, every clearly sadistic process is measured and prepared like it’s his very nature, like he was born just as he is now.

  “Are you ready for him, Elizabeth?” Alex asks behind me as I continue to lick my way around his fingers, my groin still whimpering for his touch. “Are you ready for him to show you? Get you ready for me?”

  I have no fucking idea, but if someone doesn’t do something to me soon, I might just explode.

  Pascal doubles over his belt and delivers the most frightening sound I think I’ve ever heard. She screams in pain and I watch as her eyes well with tears. Then I hear more gasps, screams and whimpers of pain as he does it again.

  “Name, my dear?” he asks again as he releases her neck and waits for an answer. He shrugs from his jacket and places it over the back of a chair with precision, as if it’s far more important than her.

  “I won’t do it,” she chokes out between sobs. He flips her over, so quickly I hardly see it happen, and tears at the front of her trousers until all covering has gone. She clamps her legs closed and somehow manages to find a glare to throw at him. She’s rewarded with what can only be described as evil, pure sin, rolling off a smile that I once considered amusement, and one I’ll never look at in the same way again.

  “Open your legs, my dear,” he says smoothly. She shakes her head and scrabbles her hands around for something on the table, presumably to defend herself with. “No? Hmm. The hard way, then? Your defiance is intolerable. What happens to ill-mannered little girls, Lucinda? Do you not remember?”

  She’s physically shaking now, her whole body trembling as her eyes start to search the room. Pascal is eerily calm, just like Alex is sometimes, and I know I haven’t even begun to see what he’s capable of yet. My mouth opens to stop it but hands are instantly at me again, soft hands, almost caring, caressing and gently folding fingers into me. My core ignites again as he quickly takes my mind off the new eroticism in front of me.

  “Do you understand why you’re enjoying this?” he says. “Should I fuck you while you watch? Would that make this easier for you to comprehend?” No. Yes. Christ knows. His other hand wraps around my throat, intensifying every illicit thought that’s threatening to overtake me, and as it squeezes tighter, my body grinds into him to try and increase the pressure again, and his hand backs away. “You want it like that? Watch him, Elizabeth. Learn him. Let yourself want him.”

  “Last chance, my dear,” Pascal says quietly with a step towards her and a lick of his lips. Fuck, so horny, so fucking horny, and I can’t relieve my ache with Alex because he won’t let me. He just keeps teasing me with quiet strokes and holding me against him so I can’t gain leverage. I’d get up and ask Pascal for it if I could damn well move, but no matter how I struggle, his hold is vice-like.

  “Slow, Elizabeth. You’re mine, and you’ll wait till you’re told,” he breathes in my ear, goading and teasing with his fingers as he draws them through me, over and over again.

  Pascal’s on her the moment she begins to shake her head again – head pinned, legs ripped open and made to obey with no ability to fight him at all. I can’t quite work out why she doesn’t just use a safeword, she must have one presumably. His hands are instantly on every point on her body before she can think about moving to a new position to avoid his grasp. The belt is raised and slammed down on her so I wince in response to it as she cries out and bucks off the table. My involuntary response is to try and close my legs, but Alex’s hand stays put as I watch the smile Pascal gives her in response. It’s just as evil as the last, but now with a twist of that amusement creeping back in.

  “Again, my dear?” He raises his arm. “What fun we’re having, hmm? A pink little cunt on display for your hoards to see. Should we give them a real performance? It has been some time since my wrist has felt your innards.” I can’t even speak at the thought. Wrist? Is that possible? She shakes her head slightly and he whips the belt down again, harder this time, which causes her to cry out and begin begging for him to stop

  “Pascal, please …. I won’t use it, and….” Again, he lands the belt on her, and again, and again. Tears pour from her eyes, her body reeling and wailing and groaning under the strain he’s putting on her. “SIR!” she screams as he raises his arm again. He stops instantly and inclines his head sideways.

  “I did not catch that, my dear. Blame it on the excitement. I am quite fired up. Do say it again, and somewhat louder this time so your underlings might hear, too. I’d hate for them to be unsure and cause more disruption to my reputation.” My eyes fly to the window. I’d almost forgotten about them. They’re all standing there, watching, panting, and waiting for his next explosion. My legs try to close again at the thought that they’re watching me, seeing me. Alex’s hand squeezes my throat in response and tips my head back to the action in front of me.

  “Sir. Your name is Sir.” She pants as her legs come together and she rolls onto her side.

  “I’m not entirely convinced of your acceptance. Open your legs. We shall try again, I think.”

  “How much do you want him, Elizabeth? Is it him you need, or this?” Alex asks as he slaps between my legs so hard I squeal and shoot back into him to get away. Stars erupt and lights flash as he does it again, and there’s nowhere for me to go, no way of stopping the sensation or halting its progress. Another blow and I’m struggling to brace my knees against the impact of it. Wet slapping noises assault the air, and I watch Pascal turn to look down at us. He’s got a wicked smile firmly plastered on his face and green eyes sparkling with mischief and debauchery as I pant in reply to the vicious tugs. He’s home, and I suddenly realise that Alex is home, too. This connection they have together is where he’s most at peace, where he can be anything he needs to be without condemnation or repercussions. There’s no need to explain or think about his actions; he can just be, and Pascal just knows, allows it, accepts it and pushes him to be more.

  Sparkling green eyes fix into mine, and I’m lost in him. I can feel his thoughts swimming around in all of me, and Alex’s, too, guiding us, guiding me, like some kind of ethereal whisper in my ear. His hold relaxes slightly behind me just before Pascal’s hand extends towards me, and I know I’ve been asked to go to him. I don’t know how I know, but I do. It’s a request he’s unsure of. I can feel that in the miniscule seconds between their differing movements and the continued hold on my waist. “I love you. Do you want this? Leave if not.” He loves me; I know he does, because I simply wouldn’t be a part of this if he didn’t. He would have considered this rude to Pascal if he didn’t love me. He wouldn’t have brought me in here and let me witness any of this unless I was part of it with him – part of what he wanted us to be. His unasked question hangs in my mind. I heard him say it even though he didn’t, and whether it’s part of this show or just the inevitable, I know the answer because the very heart of me is somehow yearning for Pascal’s grasp on me, and Alex’s approval of that.

  “I want to,” comes out of my mouth, answering his concern that kept me held to him, and as I feel warm lips on my neck and his fingers leave my throat, my body leans forward to crawl across the floor.

  “Be good,” Alex growls from behind. Good? Nothing about this is good. It’s all bad, wrong somehow, and yet so very right. There’s no one else here anymore – just them, and me, together, and I’m struggl
ing to remember there’s another woman in here until I hear her panting in pain again. Pascal sneers at the noise and delivers another blow to her backside, almost as if she was vulgar to interrupt out little internal dialogue. She wails again and damn near falls off the table to cower in the corner of the room. Bitch. I couldn’t care less. The only important things in this room own blue eyes and green. “Only her,” Alex says sternly from behind me, so I turn my head to see him now standing behind me, all six foot four of him now towering above me and smirking a little at my arse in the air. I don’t even know what he means but I halt my progress to look at him from down here. It’s so comfortable, so normal, so fucking irresistible to be down here for him. If I could wipe the smile off his arrogant bloody face, I would, because I’m still so fucking angry about everything, but in this moment, right here, right now, I can do nothing else but just be. Just be what this moment is, the three of us.

  There’s a whistle to my left, which breaks my moment of completely irrational lust and adoration for the man in front of me. My head slowly turns to find yet another smirking arsehole who is removing his shirt as if tempting me to him. He really doesn’t need to bother. My inner slut is crawling me all the way to that bank as fast as she can.

  “Come, my rose,” he says. “We have a cane to acquaint you with.” I so wish my knees would stop at the thought but they don’t. They just keep crawling me forward until I’m beneath his feet. “Up. That is no place for you. Only sluts and whores belong on the floor. Unless you’d rather it, that is? I can do either way.”

  “Table,” that velvety voice says quietly. Pascal raises a brow and looks up.

  “But, she-”

  “Pascal.”

  “Hmm, it appears you have no choice, my rose. Up you get. We wouldn’t want you to dry out down there,” he says as I get up as gracefully as I can manage and stare back at him. “On the table with you then, legs spread. Let us see what you feel like, shall we?” Not with that attitude.