Grey : 50 nuances de zizi qui parle (23)

Pour les pauvres âmes qui débarqueraient en cours de route, le début de l’histoire est disponible là.

Résumé des épisodes précédents : Après avoir discuté sur les softs limites, ça s’est bien entendu fini en… partie de jambes en l’air. Forcément. Sauf que nénunu n’a toujours rien signé mais que cette fois elle a eu droit à la fessée. Et monsieur, dans sa grande mansuétude (-_-) a accepté d’essayer de donner « plus ». Comme toujours il n’est pas resté après mais cette fois, a laissé derrière lui une Audi A3 flambant neuve. Et maintenant qu’il est rentré à l’hôtel, il espère qu’elle dort mais lui envoie toujours des mails. Ce garçon respire la logique…

En avant pour une nouveau chapitre !

Friday, May 27, 2011
(chap. 12 – part 1)

[Elle lui a mailé qu’elle ne l’aimait pas et forcément il demande pourquoi. Et quand elle répond « parce que tu ne restes jamais avec moi »…]
Six words.
Six little words that make my scalp tingle.
I told her that I didn’t sleep with anyone.
But today was a big day.
She graduated from college.
She said yes.

We went through all those soft limits that she knew nothing about. We fucked. I spanked her. We fucked again.

And before I can stop myself, I grab the garage ticket for my car, pick up a jacket, and I’m out the door.

THE ROADS ARE EMPTY and I’m at her place twenty-three minutes later.
I knock quietly, and Kavanagh opens the door.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” she shouts, her eyes blazing with anger.
Whoa. Not the reception I was expecting.
“I’ve come to see Ana.”
“Well, you can’t!” Kavanagh stands with arms folded and legs braced in the doorway, like a gargoyle.

I try reasoning with her. “But I need to see her. She sent me an e-mail.” Get out of my way!
“What the fuck have you done to her now?”
“That’s what I need to find out.” I grit my teeth.
“Ever since she met you she cries all the time.”

What?” I can’t deal with her shit anymore, and I barge past her.
“You can’t come in here!” Kavanagh follows me, shrieking like a harpy, as I storm through the apartment to Ana’s bedroom.
I open Ana’s door and switch on the main light. She’s huddled in her bed, wrapped in her comforter. Her eyes are red and puffy, and squinting in the overhead light. Her nose is swollen and blotchy.

I’ve seen women in this state many times, especially after I’ve punished them.

But I’m surprised by the unease that grips my gut.
“Jesus, Ana.” I flick the main light off so she doesn’t have to squint and I sit on the bed beside her.
“What are you doing here?” She’s sniffling. I turn on her bedside light.
“Do you want me to throw this asshole out?” Kate barks from the doorway.

Fuck you, Kavanagh. Raising an eyebrow, I pretend to ignore her.
Ana shakes her head, but her watery eyes are on me.
“Just holler if you need me,” Kate says to Ana, as if she were a child. “Grey,” she snaps, so I’m obliged to look at her. “You’re on my shit list, and I’m watching you.” She sounds shrill, her eyes glinting with fury, but I don’t give a fuck.
Fortunately she leaves, pulling the door to, but not shutting it. I check in my inside pocket, and once again Mrs. Jones has exceeded all expectations; I fish out the handkerchief and give it to Ana. “What’s going on?”
“Why are you here?” Her voice is shaky.
I don’t know.
You said you didn’t like me.

“Part of my role is to look after your needs. You said you wanted me to stay, so here I am.” Nice save, Grey.
“And yet I find you like this.” You weren’t like this when I left. “I’m sure I’m responsible, but I have no idea why. Is it because I hit you?”
She struggles to sit up and flinches when she does.
“Did you take some Advil?” As instructed?
She shakes her head.
When will you do as you’re told?

I go to find Kavanagh, who’s on the sofa, seething.
“Ana has a headache. Do you have any Advil?”
She raises her eyebrows, surprised, I think, by my concern for her friend. Glowering, she gets up and stomps into the kitchen. After some rustling through boxes she hands me a couple of tablets and a teacup of water.
Back in the bedroom I offer them to Ana and sit on the bed. “Take these.”
She does, her eyes clouded with apprehension.

“Talk to me. You told me you were okay. I’d never have left you if I thought you were like this.” Distracted, she toys with a loose thread on her quilt. “I take it that when you said you were okay, you weren’t.”
“I thought I was fine,” she admits.
“Anastasia, you can’t tell me what you think I want to hear. That’s not very honest.

How can I trust anything you’ve said to me?” This will never work if she’s not honest with me.
The thought is depressing.
Talk to me, Ana.
“How did you feel while I was hitting you, and after?”
“I didn’t like it. I’d rather you didn’t do it again.”
“You weren’t meant to like it.”
“Why do you like it?” she asks, and her voice is stronger.
Shit. I can’t tell her why.

“You really want to know?”
“Oh, trust me, I’m fascinated.” Now she’s being sarcastic.
“Careful,” I warn her.
She pales at my expression. “Are you going to hit me again?”
“No, not tonight.” I think you’ve had enough.
“So.” She still wants an answer.
“I like the control it gives me, Anastasia. I want you to behave in a particular way, and if you don’t, I shall punish you, and you will learn to behave the way I desire. I enjoy punishing you. I’ve wanted to spank you since you asked me if I was gay.”
And I don’t want you rolling your eyes at me, or being sarcastic.

“So you don’t like the way I am.” Her voice is small.
“I think you’re lovely the way you are.”
“So why are you trying to change me?”
“I don’t want to change you.” God forbid. You’re enchanting. “I’d like you to be courteous and to follow the set of rules I’ve given you and not defy me. Simple.” I want you safe.
“But you want to punish me?”
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s what I don’t understand.”
I sigh. “It’s the way I’m made. I need to control you. I need you to behave in a certain way, and if you don’t—” My mind drifts. I find it arousing, Ana. You did, too.

Can’t you accept that? Bending you over my knee…feeling your ass beneath my palm. “I love to watch your beautiful alabaster skin pink and warm up under my hands. It turns me on.” Just thinking about it stirs my body.

“So it’s not the pain you’re putting me through?”
“A bit, to see if you can take it.” Actually, it’s a lot, but I don’t want to go there right now. If I tell her, she’ll throw me out. “But that’s not the whole reason. It’s the fact that you are mine to do with as I see fit—ultimate control over someone else. And it turns me on. Big-time.”
I must lend her a book or two on being a submissive.
“Look, I’m not explaining myself very well. I’ve never had to before. I’ve not really thought about this in any great depth. I’ve always been with likeminded people.” I pause to check she’s still with me. “And you haven’t answered my question—how did you feel afterward?”
She blinks. “Confused.”
“You were sexually aroused by it, Anastasia.”

You have an inner freak, Ana. I know it.
Closing my eyes, I recall her wet and wanting around my fingers after I spanked her. When I open them, she’s staring at me, pupils dilated, her lips parted…her tongue moistening her top lip. She wants it, too.
Shit. Not again, Grey. Not when she’s like this.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I warn, my voice gruff.
Her eyebrows rise in surprise.
You know what I mean, Ana. “I don’t have any condoms, and you know, you’re upset. Contrary to what your roommate believes, I’m not a priapic monster.

So, you felt confused?”
She remains mute.
“You have no problem being honest with me in print. Your e-mails always tell me exactly how you feel. Why can’t you do that in conversation? Do I intimidate you that much?”
Her fingers fiddle with the quilt.
“You beguile me, Christian. Completely overwhelm me. I feel like Icarus, flying too close to the sun.” Her voice is quiet, but brimming with emotion.
Her confession floors me like a swift kick to the head.

“Well, I think you’ve got that the wrong way round,” I whisper.
“Oh, Anastasia, you’ve bewitched me. Isn’t it obvious?”
That’s why I’m here.
She’s not convinced.

Ana. Believe me. “You’ve still not answered my question. Write me an email, please. But right now, I’d really like to sleep. Can I stay?”
“Do you want to stay?”
“You wanted me here.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” she persists.
Impossible woman. I just drove like a maniac to get here after your fucking message. There’s your answer.
I grumble that I’ll respond by e-mail. I’m not talking about this. This conversation is over.
Before I can change my mind and head back to The Heathman, I stand, empty my pockets, remove my shoes and socks, and strip off my pants. Slinging my jacket over her chair, I climb into her bed.
“Lie down,” I growl.
She complies, and I lean up on my elbow, looking at her. “If you are going to cry, cry in front of me. I need to know.”
“Do you want me to cry?”
“Not particularly. I just want to know how you’re feeling. I don’t want you slipping through my fingers. Switch the light off. It’s late, and we both have to work tomorrow.”
She does.

“Lie on your side, facing away from me.”
I don’t want you to touch me.
The bed dips as she moves, and I wrap my arm around her and gently pull her against me.
“Sleep, baby,” I murmur, and breathe in the scent of her hair.
Damn, she smells good.

[On a droit à la description d’un autre rêve de quand il était tout petit. Rien de passionnant. Ca se conclut juste par le fait que ça sent toujours bon = Ana]
When I open my eyes I’m wrapped around her, our limbs entwined. She’s regarding me with a tender smile. Her face is no longer blotchy and puffy; she looks radiant. My cock agrees, and stiffens in greeting.

“Good morning.” I’m disoriented. “Jesus, even in my sleep I’m drawn to you.” Stretching out, I disentangle myself from her and scan my surroundings. Of course, we’re in her bedroom. Her eyes glow with eager curiosity as my cock presses against her. “Hmm, this has possibilities, but I think we should wait until Sunday.” I nuzzle her just below her ear and lean up on my elbow.
She looks flushed. Warm.
“You’re very hot,” she scolds.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I grin and flex my hips, teasing her with my favorite body part. She tries a disapproving look but fails miserably—she’s highly amused. Leaning down, I kiss her.
“Sleep well?” I ask.
She nods.
“So did I.”
I’m surprised. I did sleep really well. I tell her so. No nightmares. Only dreams…
“What’s the time?” I ask.
“It’s seven thirty.”
“Seven thirty? Shit!” I leap out of bed and start dragging on my jeans. She watches me dress, trying to suppress her laughter.
“You are such a bad influence on me,” I complain. “I have a meeting. I have to go—I have to be in Portland at eight. Are you smirking at me?”
“Yes,” she admits.
“I’m late. I don’t do late. Another first, Miss Steele.” I tug on my jacket, reach down and take her head in both my hands. “Sunday,” I whisper, and kiss her. I grab my watch, wallet, and money from her bedside table, pick up my shoes, and head for the door. “Taylor will come and sort your Beetle. I was serious. Don’t drive it. I’ll see you at my place on Sunday. I’ll e-mail you a time.”
Leaving her a little dazed, I rush out of the apartment and to my car.
I put on my shoes while I’m driving.

[Par un hasard tout à fait peu arangeant pour nous, il ne se tue pas et arrive à l’hotel. Pas rasé et avec un tshirt sous sa veste mais baste. Au final, le père de Kat est à la bourre pour leur WebEX mais les autres sont présents donc il se connecte et la visio commence.]
While we’re talking an e-mail notification with an arresting title from Ana floats onto the top right corner of my screen. As quietly as I can, I click on it.

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Assault and Battery: The After-Effects
Date: May 27 2011 08:05
To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey,
You wanted to know why I felt confused after you—which euphemism should we apply—spanked, punished, beat, assaulted me.

A tad overdramatic, Miss Steele. You could have said no.

Well, during the whole alarming process, I felt demeaned, debased, and abused.

If you felt that way, why didn’t you stop me? You have safe words.

And much to my mortification, you’re right, I was aroused, and that was unexpected.

I know. Good. You’ve finally acknowledged it.

As you are well aware, all things sexual are new to me—
I only wish I was more experienced and therefore more prepared. I was shocked to feel aroused.

What really worried me was how I felt afterward. And that’s more difficult to articulate. I was happy that you were happy. I felt relieved that it wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be. And when I was lying in your arms, I felt…sated.

As did I, Ana, as did I…

But I feel very uncomfortable, guilty even, feeling that way. It doesn’t sit well with me, and I’m confused as a result. Does that answer your question?

I hope the world of Mergers and Acquisitions is as stimulating as ever…and that you weren’t too late.

Thank you for staying with me.


[Le père de Kat se connecte enfin et s’excuse de son retard et pendant lesp résentation, lui tape sa réponse, en espérant que les gens à l’autre bout de la visio croiront qu’il prend des notes (c’est sérieux)]
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Free Your Mind
Date: May 27 2011 08:24
To: Anastasia Steele

Interesting…if slightly overstated title heading, Miss Steele.

To answer your points:
– I’ll go with spanking—as that’s what it was.
– So you felt demeaned, debased, abused, and assaulted—how very Tess Durbeyfield of you. I believe it was you who decided on the debasement, if I remember correctly. Do you really feel like this or do you think you ought to feel like this? Two very different things. If that is how you feel, do you think you could just try to embrace these feelings, deal with them, for me? That’s what a submissive would do.
– I am grateful for your inexperience. I value it, and I’m only beginning to understand what it means. Simply put…it means that you are mine in every way.
– Yes, you were aroused, which in turn was very arousing, there’s nothing wrong with that.
– Happy does not even begin to cover how I felt. Ecstatic joy comes close.
– Punishment spanking hurts far more than sensual spanking—so that’s about as hard as it gets, unless, of course, you commit some major transgression, in which case I’ll use some implement to punish you with. My hand was very sore. But I like that.

– I felt sated, too—more so than you could ever know.
– Don’t waste your energy on guilt, feelings of wrongdoing, etc. We are consenting adults and what we do behind closed doors is between ourselves. You need to free your mind and listen to your body.

– The world of M&A is not nearly as stimulating as you are, Miss Steele.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Her response is almost immediate.

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Consenting Adults!
Date: May 27 2011 08:26
To: Christian Grey

Aren’t you in a meeting?

I’m very glad your hand was sore.

And if I listened to my body, I’d be in Alaska by now.

P.S.: I will think about embracing these feelings.

Alaska! Really, Miss Steele. I chuckle to myself and look like I’m engaged with the online conversation. There’s a knock on my door, and I apologize for interrupting the conference while I let room service in with my breakfast. Miss Dark, Dark Eyes rewards me with a flirtatious smile as I sign the check.
Returning to the WebEx, I find Fred briefing Kavanagh and his associates on how successful this technology has been for another client company dealing in futures.
“Will the technology help me with the futures market?” Kavanagh asks with a sardonic smile. When I tell him that Barney’s hard at work developing a crystal ball to predict prices, they all have the grace to laugh.

While Fred discusses a theoretical timeline for implementation and tech integration, I e-mail Ana.

From: Christian Grey
Subject: You Didn’t Call the Cops
Date: May 27 2011 08:35
To: Anastasia Steele

Miss Steele,
I am in a meeting discussing the futures market, if you’re really interested.

For the record, you stood beside me knowing what I was going to do.

You didn’t at any time ask me to stop—you didn’t use either safe word.

You are an adult—you have choices.

Quite frankly, I’m looking forward to the next time my palm is ringing with pain.

You’re obviously not listening to the right part of your body.

Alaska is very cold and no place to run. I would find you.

I can track your cell phone—remember?

Go to work.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Fred is in full flow when I get Ana’s response.

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Stalker
Date: May 27 2011 08:36
To: Christian Grey

Have you sought therapy for your stalker tendencies?


I smother my laugh. She’s funny.

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Stalker? Me?
Date: May 27 2011 08:38
To: Anastasia Steele

I pay the eminent Dr. Flynn a small fortune with regard to my stalker and other tendencies.
Go to work.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Why hasn’t she gone to work? She’ll be late.

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Expensive Charlatans
Date: May 27 2011 08:40
To: Christian Grey

May I humbly suggest you seek a second opinion?
I am not sure that Dr. Flynn is very effective.

Miss Steele

Damn, this woman is funny…and intuitive; Flynn charges me a small fortune for his advice. Surreptitiously, I type my response.

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Second Opinions
Date: May 27 2011 08:43
To: Anastasia Steele

Not that it’s any of your business, humble or otherwise, but Dr. Flynn is the second opinion.

You will have to speed, in your new car, putting yourself at unnecessary risk—I think that’s against the rules.


Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

[Le père de Kat lui pose une question et il répond qu’il a acheté une société innovente en matière de fibre optique. Mais il se garde de dire qu’il pense en virer le CEO (charment on vous dit !)]
From: Anastasia Steele
Date: May 27 2011 08:47
To: Christian Grey

As the object of your stalker tendencies, I think it is my business, actually.

I haven’t signed yet. So rules, schmules. And I don’t start until 9:30.

Miss Steele


I respond.

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Descriptive Linguistics
Date: May 27 2011 08:49
To: Anastasia Steele

“Schmules”? Not sure where that appears in Webster’s dictionary.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

“We can take this conversation offline,” Ros says to Kavanagh. “Now that we have an idea of your needs and expectations, we’ll prepare a detailed proposal for you and reconvene next week to discuss it.”
“Great,” I say, trying to look engaged.

There are nods of agreement all around, then good-byes.
“Thanks for giving us the opportunity to quote for this, Eamon,” I address Kavanagh.
“It sounds like you guys know what we need,” he says. “Great to see you yesterday. Good-bye.”
They all hang up except Ros, who’s staring at me as if I’ve grown two heads.

Ana’s e-mail pings into my inbox.
“Hang on, Ros. I need a minute or two.” I mute her.
And read.
And laugh out loud.

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Descriptive Linguistics
Date: May 27 2011 08:52
To: Christian Grey

It’s between control freak and stalker.
And descriptive linguistics is a hard limit for me.

Will you stop bothering me now?

I’d like to go to work in my new car.

I type a quick reply.

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Challenging but Amusing Young Women
Date: May 27 2011 08:56
To: Anastasia Steele

My palm is twitching.
Drive safely, Miss Steele.

(Oui, c’était une spéciale gif plus ou moins idiots pour ce premier chapitre de l’année) (juste parce que)
Notre nénuphar va-t-il pouvoir aller travailler avec sa jolie voiture neuve sans que le PPB lui tienne la jambe encore ? Et notre PPB (« pervers priapique des buildings », rappelez-vous) va-t-il se calmer un peu ? Et surtout… LE ZIZI VA-T-IL PARLER MAINTENANT QU’IL A REAGI ? La suite (et plus encore) au prochain épisode ! \o/



Entrez vos coordonnées ci-dessous ou cliquez sur une icône pour vous connecter:


Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Déconnexion /  Changer )

Photo Google

Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Google. Déconnexion /  Changer )

Image Twitter

Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Twitter. Déconnexion /  Changer )

Photo Facebook

Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Facebook. Déconnexion /  Changer )

Connexion à %s