This story is a bit of a Dead Dove Do Not Eat variety, so proceed at your own risk. I promise there is a happy ending, as Aldous is Izzie's evil ex-husband, she left years ago. Mandy is Nick's ex-wife.
The memories that are flooding her brain, no, she's never going to tell Nick any of this. How she was lying on that rocking spanking bench, ball-gagged, hands tied behind her back, whipped into delirium, whimpering. How Aldous stepped on the runner to stop the bench from moving and pulled the gag out of her mouth.
"What were you trying to say, doll?" Aldous asked.
"Don... Don Quixote," she whispered her safeword.
"Too bad, I'm done now." How the cold lube splattered on the small of her back. "What do you say now, doll?"
"Please, Aldous, please. I learned my lesson!"
"Tsk-tsk, that's not what you say, doll." He spread the lube over her reddened cheeks. It was one of those warming lubes, that was supposed to tingle, but on the whipped skin it burned like hell, same as fresh ginger juice or capsaicin cream. "Or should I pick up the belt again?"
"No, no, sir," she writhed in pain.
"Then say it." Aldous pressed two fingers till they sank in.
"I'm just a hole, sir," she blurted it out in one burst.
"Atta girl, now say it again, slower, and with more enthusiasm."
Izzie stares at her shaking fingers. For the life of her, she doesn't know how to explain, what was a brutal nightmare with Aldous, would be a dream come true with Nick. But Nick is not ready for any of it. Not today, not now. The only thing she wants is to get out of here for Christmas. Next year will be different. There will be a whole year to figure it out.
"That Christmas," she clears her throat, "Aldous bought me a spanking horse, as a gift, and a Gucci scarf to tie my hands. I left him for good on New Year's Eve. Happy?"
And the same as on The Day She Came Back, Nick crosses the distance between them in one move. Does he slide, like tennis players on a clay court? He holds her tight, as if his embrace can protect her from all the evil in the world, and in this moment, it feels like he can.
"May I please kill him?" Nick says ever so plainly.
"I consented. We were trying a new… dynamic, and I failed."
"You failed? Izzie, I do know the difference between consent and abuse."
He holds onto her shoulders to look at her face. "What the fuck, Iz? You kept in touch with him. Hell, you were trying to conceive with him right up until you met me."
"I did not sleep with Aldous since I left him!" she steps back.
"I know, he told me."
"What did he tell you?"
"Ask her about the turkey baster, he said. Quite self-explanatory if you ask me."
"I wanted a baby, he was still my husband, legally. What was I supposed to do? Get pregnant from a stranger I picked up at..."
"Please continue, I dare you." Nick bites his lower lip, hands in his pockets,
"Piss off, Nick, not now," she pauses. "Stockholm syndrome. I don't know, the devil you know?"
"Oh please! You let me be 'friends' with him, so to speak, I invited him into my house. For crying out loud, he slept with Mandy."
"More like, Mandy slept with him," Izzie rolls her eyes.
"Do you understand what you did?? Couldn't you bring this to my attention earlier?" Izzie buries her face on his chest, and that alone switches off his anger and into a protector that he is, first and foremost. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, forget everything I said." He pulls her into a bear hug, his lips pressing onto the top of her head. "I need to talk to Mandy. I can't let him anywhere near you, her, kids. Please don't go away, Iz. Not now, not fucking now."
That’s just bloody epic, with Izzie on his lap, on the verge of a bloody nervous breakdown, he needs to deal with his ex-wife, aka Hurricane Mandy, thankfully on the phone.
“Mandy, Mandy, listen to me. I’m going to say it only once. I’ve just promised Izzie not to kill Aldous and not to put him in jail, and I’m not sure how to keep this promise. You’re not to see him ever again… Yes, that bad. You can get on Tinder and fuck half of the tri-state area, I will say, good for her and give you a five-star review for excellent deepthroating skills... Why Uber? No reviews on Tinder? How do you know?.. No, I don’t give a fuck, I just told you. Have a nice and restless night!”
Free from the phone, his right hand presses Izzie’s head under his chin, fingers combing through her hair, touching her motionless shoulders, noticing how quiet she had gone. Gone.
Not today, not now but she will tell him one day. How she plays in her head this nightmare of a scene, an all-time numero uno mover and shaker of her personal wank bank. How the cameras roll every bloody time she is about to come, from the perfect vantage point of a pitiful but useless guardian angel, floating somewhere above, just underneath the mirrored ceiling, watching her old self, pinned down and screaming under the belt rising and falling in slow motion, as inevitable as death and taxes, on her crimson cheeks. Yes, that’s it, death, taxes, and belt. How she chants the words faster and faster until…
“Nick?” she cries out, holding onto the words that burn the bridges. Startled, he shakes his head slowly, sensing the disaster, begging not to speak, no more. She presses a single finger to his lips and takes the leap. “When I get off... it helps me to get off… in my mind, I see myself on that spanking horse, and I scream, please sir, I learned my lesson.”
“You mean, when you are by yourself?” he offers her a meek way out.
“Every time. I’m sorry.”
“When I make you come, you see Aldous beating the shit out of you, did I hear it right?”
“Nick, I’m so sorry.”
To read all the stories in order click here I was hesitating to ask you, what would Nick do, but I'm afraid that the answer would be unanimous (Thank you, Hermione!). Hold your horses though, nothing is simple when it comes to Nick...