A/N: Good evening, guys and girls! Welcome to the new - and hopefully improved - version of Submit to Fifty Shades. For those who aren't familiar with the story, let's catch you up. This is a story about "Ana the Sub" and what life would be like if Ana was Christian's Sub. It was originally called Submit to Fifty Shades, but the work was shoddy so I'm revamping the story from the beginning and it's now called Sinners Never Sleep. I hope you all enjoy the first chapter and I'll see you again next Saturday!
Disclaimer: I don't own or have any rights to Fifty Shades of Grey. I am only exploiting my right to re-interpret the characters into MY fan-fiction. However, I do own Nicole and Sebastian :)
Chapter One - To Drowning Demons
"What are your safe-words, Anastasia?"
I don't dare look up at my Dom as I reply. "Red and yellow, sir."
"Red and yellow?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. Stand." His voice is commanding and I have no choice but to obey. I rise from my knees and stand before him, wearing nothing but the sheer, black thong he requests I wear whenever we are in here. I keep my head bowed, staring down at his naked feet as I wait to find out what he has in store for me tonight.
"Tonight is not about your pleasure, Anastasia. Tonight is about punishment. Do you why I am punishing you?" that tone...it's icy and menacing, turning my blood cold. I inwardly wince as I remember the last punishment he administered; I couldn't sit down for two days!
Not wanting to show my hesitation, I hurry to answer. "Yes, sir."
"And why is that?"
"Because I didn't come to you when you told me to, sir." I respond meekly, hanging my head.
"And?"
"...I openly defied you in public, sir."
"And?"
"...I threatened to end our contract, sir."
"Precisely. I'm sure you understand that I cannot accept that behaviour."
"I understand, sir." My voice is contrite and appropriately chastised.
"Good. Go to the bed and bend over, hands flat."
I turn immediately and walk over to the bed, keeping my head bowed. What is he going to do to me? Spank me? Flog me? Cane me? Hell, he could even pull out the whips if he wants to, though I've come to know that he's not partial to them. I get that; they're more of a woman's tool than a man's.
I bend at the waist and place my hands flat on the bed, my head hanging down and eyes fixed on the floor. I don't dare to look and see what he's doing behind me; it'd only make my situation worse. I breathe in deep through my nose and out through my mouth, attempting to steady my pounding heart. I know this punishment will be harsh and it will hurt, although I don't personally think that I did anything wrong. Yes, I did avoid him like the plague. Yes, I did tear him a new asshole in front of my friends. Yes, I did try to end our contract. But he provoked those actions. He caused this, not me. I only came back because he promised things would be different; he said he was sorry and practically begged me to come back. But now I realise that was a mistake.
I knew the minute I walked through the front door of the apartment that nothing had changed. That he had something unpleasant in store for me. His eyes had been hard and cold, a wicked blue that had originally drawn me to him. His muscles had been tense and strained, particularly around his neck, and I could just tell he was resisting the urge to lunge at me. I would have turned around and left then, effectively terminating our contract for good...but - idiot that I am - I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
I am jolted out of my recollections by a brief, but firm, smack to my left ass-cheek and I flinch, taken aback by his proximity.
"Are you ready, Little One?" he breathes in my ear.
I take a deep breath. "Yes, sir."
"Very well. Let's begin."
He leans over and takes a hold of both my wrists, pulling them back behind my body; the movement causes me to fall forwarded, hindered by his weight, and I land with my cheek and chest pressed against the mattress with my ass up in the air. I feel him attach a cuff to my left wrist, tightening to the point of almost-painful. Satisfied, he repeats the process of my right wrist, securing my arms behind my back and steps away, undoubtedly admiring his work. I want to roll my eyes but right now, I'm just too scared to.
"I'm going to administer fifteen lashes, Anastasia. Five for each indiscretion. Then, I'm going to fuck you - hard. You are not to come during this session. You are not to say a word. You may make noises. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." I reply, my words slightly muffled by the hair that has fallen over my face.
There's silence as I wait for the first blow to come. I can't hear him moving or even breathing; I have no idea where he is. The only reason I know he's still in the room with me is because I can feel his eyes on my back, making the hairs on my neck stand up on end. The suspense is always the worst bit and I wish he wouldn't draw it out. Just let me pay my penance and get on with it.
SMACK!
The first hit finally arrives and it's nothing like what I was expecting. It is white hot and hard and it hits me with enough force to put a grown man to his knees. I can't help the cry that escapes me. It's just too damn painful! What the fuck is he using?! It's definitely not a paddle - it's too thin. It moves like a whip, with fluidity and it snaps as it hits my skin, but it's too broad to be a whip.
SMACK!
Fuck! I turn my face into the mattress, desperately trying to muffle my cries as he hits me again. I know he said that I could make noise, but I don't want to give the bastard the satisfaction.
SMACK!
Oh, SHIT! He's striking different places on my back and ass, leaving no area untouched. I know he's going to leave me red and raw. But what the fuck is he using? C'mon Steele, think! You already know it's not a paddle and it's not a whip. It's not a cane, either; it's not rigid.
SMACK!
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I feel tears spring to my eyes and a whimpered sob rips from my throat - it just hurts so damn much! Okay, breathe. Absorb the pain, Steele. Use it for clarity. Think! Flogger? No. Cat? No. Well, it can't be a belt...wait a minute...
SMACK!
God, DAMMIT! THAT MOTHERFUCKING-COCK-SUCKING-PIECE OF SHIT-STUPID-FUCKING-CUNT IS USING A BELT! OH FUCK, NO! HE'S GOTTA STOP! PLEASE, HE'S GOT TO STOP!
"Re-" I start to call out but another blow to my ass steals my voice, causing me to choke on air. I cough and splutter, trying to fill my lungs with enough oxygen to tell him to stop. He can't do this! I can't do this!
"Sir!" I try again but he hits me harder, putting far too much force behind the blow.
"I said no speaking!" he snarls at me, and I lift my eyes to him, breaking the number one rule but not giving a damn. His arm is raised to strike again and I can see the belt - it's black leather with a silver buckle. Very plain but it's thick and more than capable of bringing you to your knees.
As he brings the belt down on me for the seventh time, my vision begins to blur. My chest feels empty and I can't breathe - I'm fighting to get the air into my lungs but nothing's happening. I can hear my blood roaring in my ears, deafening me to everything else. I can't think. The walls are closing in on me, getting closer and closer as darkness begins to engulf me. It's clinging to my skin, cold and cloying as it snakes over my body, weighing me down to prevent me from moving. I'm trapped! I can't fight back!
I lift my gaze once more and I scream at what I see. It's not my Dom standing behind me any more; it's not Sebastian. It's him.
"RED!"
I sit bolt upright in bed, my heart still pounding in my chest, racing at a mile a minute. My throat feels dry, as if I've been screaming, and I'm drenched in a cold sweat. I stare wildly around my room, searching for anything out of place; I can't convince myself that there isn't something lurking in the shadows: an evil figure poised and ready to strike. But no, it's just me.
"You're okay," I whisper to myself, my hand moving to cover my heart in an attempt to calm its thudding. "There's no on here. It was just a dream..."
Unfortunately, I know that it wasn't just a dream. It was a memory. One that's plagued me for six months now, and one that refuses to back off, along with several others.
Sebastian.
Fuck, I hate that man! That coward! Because of him, I can now happily say that I'm officially fucked! I haven't had an undisturbed night in months because he's either torturing me or one of the other dreams that he's brought to the surface is! It's all his fucking fault! He knew that belts were a hard limit for me - we discussed that at the beginning of our contract, for crying out loud! So why the ever-loving fuck, did he think that it was okay to use one on me!
To give you the ultimate punishment, my sub-conscious whispers at me and I roll my eyes. That is not an excuse to break a hard limit! You don't ever break a hard limit! They're there to protect both parties and if I say no belts, I mean no fucking belts!
Why the fuck do you care anyway? My sub-conscious hisses, glaring at me with her arms crossed. That was six months ago! It happened. Now, get over it.
I can't get over it. In case you haven't noticed, it haunts my fucking dreams!
Then see a shrink, call an priest, find an exorcist, pray to God - I don't care! Just stop whining if you aren't going to do anything about it!
Oh, piss off.
I stop arguing with myself and clamber out of bed. I check the time: 23:30. Hmmm, it's not that late and I need a strong drink if I've got any hope of going back to sleep tonight. I grab my phone and hurriedly text Nicole.
**Hey beautiful, fancy a drink?**
It barely takes her a minute to reply.
**Annie baby, isn't is a bit late?**
I roll my eyes.
**Sweetie, it's 11:30pm on a Friday. I'm supposed to be drinking! But hey, if you don't want to get in on my Dalmore 40, more for me.**
I laugh as I send that text, knowing she's going to be frantic to reply and sure enough, not even thirty seconds later:
**Hey, I didn't say that! Fuck, you're breaking into the $3,000? Must've been a bad night! Be there in five x**
I shake my head and, pulling on my silk robe, I pad out into the living room to hunt down my Dalmore 40 Single Malt Scotch Highland Whiskey. it was given to me as a birthday present last year and cost $3,000. I only drink it on special occasions or when I'm in desperate need of strong liquor. Today is one of those days.
I open my liquor cabinet and pull out the whiskey along with two glasses before carrying my items through to my kitchen. Setting the bottle on the breakfast bar, I take the glasses over to the fridge and throw a couple of pieces of ice in each, knowing that Nicole prefers to drink her whiskey on the rocks. Speaking of whom, a sharp knock sounds on my front door and I know that the devil has arrived.
"It's open." I call out, sitting at the breakfast bar and cracking open the bottle.
"Girl, you should be more careful about checking who you're letting in!" Nicole exclaims as she sashays into the room, her eyebrows raised. "What if I'd been a murderer or a rapist?"
"What murderer or rapist knocks before coming in?" I ask, laughing as I pour two fingers of the Dalmore into both glasses.
She pauses. "A polite one?"
I chuckle. "Oh, shut up and come have a drink."
"Well, if you insist." She grins at me and sits down opposite me, pulling her glass towards her. "What are we drinking to?"
"To drowning demons?"
She nods and lifts her glass. "To drowning demons." We both take a healthy gulp of the drink and I watch as Nicole squeezes her eyes shut, savoring the liquor. "Perfection." She purrs.
I laugh. "I swear you get off on this stuff."
She opens her eyes at me, the picture of innocence. "What, and you don't? I've seen you orgasm over this stuff."
I nod my head. "Touché. Though, in my defense, it was being drunk off my body."
She smiles again. "I'll give you that." Her expression quickly becomes serious. "So, what's with the late night drinking session? It's not like you, and I know you don't touch the 40 lightly."
I gaze at my friend over the rim of my glass, wondering if I should tell her the truth. Nicole's always been there for me, through thick and thin, and I know she's loyal to a fault. With those hazel-colored eyes and hair as black as a raven's wing, she's a five foot six bombshell with the personality to match; she's also a sub like me, so she'll get where I'm coming from. I decide to go with the truth.
"I dreamed about Sebastian again."
"Oh, do tell." She says, taking another swallow of her drink. "Wet dream or nightmare?"
"Of course it wasn't a wet dream! Nic, what the fuck?" I glare at her before throwing back the rest of my drink and pouring another.
She throws her hands up, surrendering to the evils that I'm throwing her way. "Whoa, easy tiger! I didn't mean anything by it."
I sigh and drop my head into my hands. "I know. I'm sorry, I'm just being touchy."
"Hey," she takes my hands and pulls them away from my face, forcing me to look at her. "Talk to me, Steele. What's up?"
I look into her warm eyes, filled with so much love and loyalty, and I can't help but feel touched that this women is willing to drop anything to be here for me. She's never judged me, never hurt me; she's just there, my pillar when I need her.
"I dreamed about that night again." She understands immediately and squeezes my hands comfortingly.
"Wanna talk about it?"
I shrug. "I don't know what to say. I just wish I understood why he did it, you know? For fuck sake Nic, he was a seasoned Dom! He knows that you don't ever do something like that. It's the first rule of our lifestyle! So why did he?"
Nic sighs and rubs my fingers sympathetically. "I don't have an answer for you there, hun. He did what he did, and he knew he was out of line. He broke your trust and destroyed his reputation in the community, all because he wanted to punish you. I mean, I know that's part of being a Dom, but there's a line you don't cross. I'll tell you this, though - he hasn't had a Sub since."
I fell my eyes widen in shock. "No shit?"
She nods. "No Sub will trust him. He's on the market, no doubt about it, but no one's taking the chance. Don't get me wrong, no one knows exactly what he did or to whom he did it, but they know he broke a hard limit. And no one wants to get involved with that."
I lean back in my seat, slightly taken aback. I wonder how it got out that he broke a hard limit? I certainly never said anything. Maybe he made the mistake of telling someone? Did Nicole say something? I wouldn't blame her if that was the case. What he did to me...
"Steele, listen to me. You can't keep dwelling on this stuff. It's going to drive you nuts."
I groan and pull one of my hands out of her grasp to run it through my hair, shoving it off my face. "Don't you think I know that, Nicole? But there's not a lot I can do about it. I can't stop what I dream about and he's opened a whole of worms that I don't know how to close. I need a distraction...I just don't know what." I knock back my drink and move in for my third.
"Jesus, slow down, Ana! This stuff is seventy percent! You'll be legless before the night's out."
"That's the plan." I mutter and throw back the $190 a shot drink.
My friend huffs, rolling her eyes. "Look darling, it's clear you need a change and fast. So, here's my suggestion. A new BDSM club is hosting its opening night tomorrow and everybody's going to be there. There's going to be drinking, dancing, displays - the lot. And I think we should go. Liam wants to take me anyway and I reckon you should tag along. Have a drink, relax and - most importantly - find yourself a new Dom."
I eye her skeptically. "I don't know..."
"Annie, listen to me. You've been without a Dom for six months now and, by that reckoning, without sex for six months. Correct me if I'm wrong." She pauses but I don't contradict her so she continues. "By anyone's standards, that's a long time. You need to get back out there and find yourself a new man; you've got needs, baby girl, and they're not being fulfilled. I'll bet that once you've got yourself a new man and a bit of stress relief, you'll feel better in no time."
"Nic..."
"C'mon Steele, you know I'm right." She stares at me, daring me to argue with her. But the truth is, she's right. I'm stressed to bursting point and I've got no way to relax. I need a new Dom who can attend to me and give me what I need.
"Fuck it." I say, holding up my glass to her. "Let's find me a new Dom."
