Hello again, my lovely readers! First off, thank you SO much for all of the PMs, reviews, and support these last couple of months. I can't tell you how much it means to me. I tried to reply to as many PMs as possible, but I'm sure I missed some, and for that I apologize. You've all been waiting so patiently for news on where my stories will be posted from now on, and I'm happy to be able to share some news on that front. I apologize that it couldn't be done sooner, but RL has been a bit of a nightmare these last few weeks.

I'm excited to announce that I will be collaborating with several AMAZING authors on NEW SITE! The web address is on my profile, or you can simply type (without the space) acedfiction dot wordpress dot com. Googling those two words should bring it up too, but if not, just type it in. Click my name on the home page for a listing of my stories, and make sure you Follow if you want to receive email alerts!

Now, here's the skinny on this particular story... It's a kinky, short-ish tale of our favorite couple that will actually have two versions. A shorter FF version, and a much longer original version that I hope will eventually be published as a novel. This chapter is the only one that will be posted on FF, however. If you want the rest of the story, you can find it on the new site. (See above)

Thanks again for all of your love and support! Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Christian Grey sighed in distaste at the rotating strobe lights that threatened to blind him every time he glanced at the main stage. He would never understand why the owner of such an upscale club cared so little about its ambience that he'd failed to hire a professional decorator. It was a lifestyle club, not a keg party. Christian sipped his club soda and attempted to shake off his dour mood. He wasn't a fan of clubs like this, but circumstances had left him with little choice in the matter. It was either this or celibacy, and as his staff would attest, the latter hadn't been working too well for him.

After countless years spent talking about his dark past and his social issues, Christian had finally found a shrink who had gotten through to him, resulting in the most crucial breakthrough in his very long history of psychotherapy. He'd accepted the reality that he'd been abused and molested, and he'd systematically removed all traces of Elena Lincoln from his life.

Well… not quite all traces, he corrected silently.

There was no way of knowing whether or not he'd have ended up a Dominant without her influence, but it comforted him to believe that he would have found his own way into the lifestyle eventually. Since he'd lost all faith in Elena's prior teachings, Christian had made an effort to re-educate himself on the true meaning of power exchange. The more he'd learned, the more certain he'd become that there were some aspects of being a Dominant that simply couldn't be taught. It was part of his personality, his identity. Embracing that part of himself with a free mind and an open heart had given him a remarkable sense of clarity.

The only thing that revelation hadn't provided was a solution to the issue of finding a submissive. Elena had kept him so isolated from the local BDSM community that he'd been surprised at the size of it once he'd finally dared to venture out. Unfortunately, finding a trustworthy submissive came down to connections and references, of which he'd had none. The NDAs from his past contracts had prevented him from mentioning the women by name, and his need for privacy had prevented him from even using his own name.

Building a reputation from scratch had taken time, and while Christian had made a few friends in the community, finding a submissive who would agree to his protocols had been more difficult than he'd expected. He'd met several who had been reasonably compatible, but they had all longed for an emotional connection he'd never experienced and couldn't seem to give them. As a result of that shortcoming, his options had been reduced to the occasional 'no strings attached' encounter at the club. It wasn't ideal, as he preferred monogamy, but his sanity demanded the release that only domination could give him. Lately he'd begun to feel that intercourse wasn't even a requirement for a scene; he was in it for the power exchange, not the orgasm.

The sophomoric strobe lights irritated Christian's eyes once again as he passively scanned the area. The clientele of a kink-themed nightclub was as diverse as one might imagine. Patrons came from all backgrounds and in all shapes, sizes, genders, and sexual orientations. There were monogamous couples, swingers, and polyamorous groups. Christian gave a lazy wave of acknowledgment to the few people he recognized, but as he took another sip from his glass, his attention was caught by a young submissive he was certain he'd never seen before.

Her long, wavy brown hair was gathered in a loose, beribboned ponytail at the nape of her neck, and her skin was pale and beautiful even under the ridiculous flashing of colored lights. He couldn't see her face properly, but he guessed her to be in her twenties. She wore a black lace and satin corset that put her tantalizing cleavage on full display and emphasized her narrow waist. Her short, black mini skirt failed to hide the set of garters that held up her thigh-high fishnet stockings, and her shapely feet were encased in red-soled heels. She was exactly his type, but he made no move to approach her.

Because she was collared and kneeling at the foot of another Dom.

In most areas of life, Christian was a man who went after what he wanted with relentless determination, but this was different. No matter how badly he might desire this unknown woman, there was a code of sorts in the kink community. A kind of mutual respect, particularly toward other Dominants and their submissives. Poaching someone else's sub was the height of bad form.

Christian pursed his lips in disappointment, lamenting his own bad luck, but over the next twenty minutes or so, his eyes drifted back to the kneeling brunette so many times that he'd practically memorized every stitch on her corset. Her Dom shifted slightly, drawing Christian's attention, and he was surprised to find the man grinning at him.

For fuck's sake, he grumbled inwardly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes with some difficulty. The man looked like an overgrown child, gloating over a coveted toy. Christian averted his eyes and tried to focus on something else, but it seemed that the woman's Dom had other ideas. It took only a few moments for him to signal his submissive to her feet and cross the room to take the seat next to Christian. The woman followed obediently, and it was only then that Christian noticed the silver chain of a leash connecting her thick leather collar to the wrist of her Dominant. He'd never cared much for leashes, though many in the lifestyle used them.

As the man settled into the empty chair on Christian's left, he pointed at the floor with two adjacent fingers, then split them to form an inverted peace sign. The woman knelt promptly, parting her knees widely and placing her hands palm-up on her thighs. The pose gave Christian an unexpected view of her lace panties, and the sight would've aroused him further had it not been for her Dom's use of a hand signal to instruct her. Elena had been fond of that particular custom, and seeing this man treat his beautiful submissive in a similar fashion made his stomach churn slightly.

"Blake Warner," the man introduced himself, extending his leash-free hand toward Christian. The name sounded so normal that he wondered if it was actually real. Aliases were used more often than not in places like this. "This is my pet," Blake added, stroking the woman's dark hair momentarily.

Something about the gesture had Christian wondering if perhaps they were actually engaging in pet play. It would fit in with the leash and the use of 'pet' as a submissive title, though neither was exclusive to that particular fetish. Christian had never been interested in the practice, but he tried not to pass judgment on others for their choice of kink. He had no doubt that some would find his style of power exchange unappealing as well.

"Gregory House," Christian replied with a sardonic smile, accepting the handshake ruefully.

Blake's brow furrowed, apparently recognizing the origin of Christian's alias. Mia had urged him to watch a few seasons of House on Netflix, and he'd felt a kindred sort of respect for the show's main character. The guy was an asshole with few redeeming qualities aside from being prolific at his job. Borrowing the name had seemed fitting.

"Alright… Greg," Blake chuckled. "I noticed you admiring my submissive."

"She's very beautiful. Judging by her clothing and the fact that you've kept her on her knees for most of the past half hour, you intended for her to be admired," he replied, taking in the man's appearance for the first time.

He'd been so fixated on the lovely brunette that he'd failed to make a single observation about her Dominant. Blake had pitch black hair, olive skin, dark brown eyes, and a smirk so oily it should have slid right off his face. Even his posture exuded arrogance, and his tone was boastful when discussing his sub.

Christian's gaze gravitated toward the woman for the thousandth time that evening, thankful that he could see her face much better from this vantage point. She was truly exquisite. If he'd met her anywhere else, even on the street, he might've wondered if she were a model. He was curious to find that her expression was completely blank, and her eyes were still glued to the floor.

"Oh, yes, she's stunning," Blake expounded proudly as he gazed down at the woman with a greedy smile. "And talented. Mouth like a porn star and the tightest pussy I've ever had."

Christian frowned at his vulgarity and glanced reflexively at the submissive. The generous swell of her breasts was rising and falling at a faster rate, and even in the semi-darkness, he could see a slight flush in her cheeks. The sight of it turned him on even more, and he wondered if the rest of her body was blushing as well. The pulse in her neck was ticking faster, but he couldn't be certain whether her reactions were due to embarrassment over her Dom's lack of propriety or pleasure at his praise. Her emotionless expression remained firmly in place.

"She's exceptionally obedient too," the odious man continued to brag. "I'll admit, it took a lot of work to train her properly, but it was worth every second."

"I'm sure," Christian replied distractedly. He couldn't seem to pull his attention away from the enigmatic woman. He didn't usually have any trouble reading people, but she confounded him. The mystery about her made her all the more alluring.

"I was hoping to find someone to share her with this evening. Under strict provisions, of course. Are you interested?"

It took a moment for Blake's words to register in Christian's befuddled thoughts, but when his brain caught up, his eyes snapped toward the man in surprise. Blake's smug expression reminded him once again of a spoiled boy who wanted to show off a favorite toy.

Is he serious?

The submissive, meanwhile, was wondering the exact same thing. Her name was Anastasia Steele, though her Dominant had agreed to keep that to himself for the night. He'd given her no warning about a shared scene, however, and she was struggling to maintain her calm facade.

Blake had voiced this particular fantasy before… to share her with another man while retaining the ultimate control over the situation. Ana was fairly certain he was just looking for a roundabout way to dominate another Dom; it was precisely the sort of power trip that got his blood pumping. Even now, his personality seemed more like that of a spoiled child than the man she'd been submitting to for nearly three months.

The idea of being shared had always made Ana feel a bit uncomfortable, but out of a desire to please him, she had delegated it to her list of soft rather than hard limits. Finding a guy confident enough in his sexuality to be willing to do something like that wasn't exactly a simple task, so Ana hadn't truly expected it to ever come up. Now she found herself waiting for the right opening to voice her opposition to Blake's offer.

Why didn't he ask me before saying anything to this guy? We don't even know him! What if he actually says yes?!

Ana had snuck a quick peek at the stranger as they'd crossed the room toward him, and she'd almost tripped over her own feet when she'd realized how attractive he was. She wished there had been more opportunity to study him… to ogle him, if she were being honest. It seemed odd to her that a man who looked like that had come to a sex club alone. She would've expected him to have a collared submissive at his side at all times. Perhaps even more than one. Ana was dying to sneak a second look at him, but she knew better than to break the rules in a place like this. Her behavior was a direct reflection on Blake, and he'd made it clear that she would regret doing anything that might damage his reputation.

As she knelt between the two men, Ana was intensely aware that the handsome stranger's gaze was locked on her. It made her feel naked and exposed, and if she hadn't been so anxious about Blake's impromptu suggestion, she would've been flattered by Gregory's attention. She was shocked at Blake's presumption, especially since he knew full well that she had no real interest in doing a scene like this.

Maybe 'Greg' will say no so I won't have to, Ana thought, clinging to that one shred of hope. The guy was ridiculously hot, and while she knew that her present attire may have pushed her into that territory as well, she also knew that she was nowhere near his level. This man exuded dominance like an aura, and she was still technically in the learning stages of submission.

Say no, she silently urged him. 'No, thank you,' just say it…

"What sort of strict provisions do you have in mind?" Christian asked once he'd recovered from his shock.

Fuck, Ana cursed inwardly. Do I safeword now? Wait until we're alone? What if we don't have a chance to be alone before…? Fuck…

Christian continued to watch her, curious in spite of himself as to what might be going on behind that emotionless mask of hers. He had no interest in sharing anything with her clown of a Dom, but an opportunity to see more of that gorgeous body, to actually touch her… He simply wasn't strong enough to resist.

"No kissing on the lips, no sex without a condom, and her ass is off limits. That belongs to me. And she only takes orders from me, of course, but I'd be happy to command her to service you if you're interested. Her oral talents shouldn't be wasted on just one man," Blake chuckled grotesquely.

That oily smirk was still in place, and as much as Christian would have liked to tell the disgusting man where to shove his offer, another glance at the kneeling submissive prevented his mouth from forming the words. She had her lower lip trapped between her teeth, almost as though she were trying to maintain control of her arousal. But was that truly the reason for her expression? He still couldn't see her eyes, but just the sight of that mouth had him hardening in his pants yet again… not that he'd been soft since the moment he'd set eyes on her. His own mouth was moving before he could think better of it.

"I'm in if both of you are."

Blake grinned appreciatively, and Ana barely managed to suppress a shudder. She opened her mouth slightly as if to speak, but she closed it again when Blake replied.

"She'll be into whatever I tell her to be into," he shrugged arrogantly. His response might have sounded terrible to an outsider, but the general consensus in the BDSM community was that a 'slave' had no limits or safewords. Her trust in her Dominant had no boundaries or restrictions, and she was to obey every command without hesitation.

But is she a slave? Christian wondered. She wore a heavy collar and had not been addressed by her given name, but neither of those things were exclusive to a Master/slave dynamic. His gaze moved back to Ana's face, and he noticed that she was once again biting her bottom lip. He wished more than anything that he could see her eyes, just for a moment. If she were his submissive, he'd order her to look at him so that he could get a true read on her reaction to the situation.

But she wasn't his sub. And he couldn't order her to do a damn thing.

"She's already consented?" Christian pushed again, his curiosity and desire warring with his instincts.

"Group play isn't a hard limit for her. Don't worry about it; she'll do as she's told. Shall we meet in room three in say… fifteen minutes?"

Christian gave a stiff nod, still watching Ana as she responded to another hand signal and rose gracefully to her feet. Her eyes were cast so low that they appeared to be closed, but she didn't falter when Blake gave a gentle tug of her leash and led her toward the bar. Christian felt conflicted once again, but there was just something about this woman that had him spinning.

Ana followed her Dom to the bar and waited in silence while he requested the key to Playroom Three. When the attendant went to retrieve it, she seized the opportunity to speak.

"Pardon, Sir," she said in a low voice. Blake gave her a frown she couldn't see since her gaze was still focused on the floor. His reply was quiet but irate.

"Is there a reason you're speaking without permission?"

"I apologize, Sir, but I need to speak with you privately before we meet the other man…"

When the attendant returned with the key and a form for Blake to sign, Ana quickly closed her mouth. She fell in step behind him again until they reached the door to the private room, where she was relieved to discover that 'Gregory' hadn't yet arrived. There could be no more than ten minutes left, and Ana prayed that would be enough time. Blake unlocked the door and tugged the leash again to usher her inside.

I should tell him that I don't want to be leashed in public again too, she noted silently. She'd never minded it before tonight, but wearing it in public had changed the way it made her feel. Although maybe it wouldn't feel so degrading if he'd stop jerking it around...

"Strip," Blake commanded brusquely, already moving to collect a few skeins of soft rope from the array of wall hooks. This playroom was decorated and furnished in black and silver, and the light was kept tastefully low.

"Please, Sir," Ana began, trying hard to keep her tone respectful. "Being shared isn't something I agreed to do this evening." He paused and looked in her direction, but she kept her eyes down.

"You made it a soft limit," he reminded her, approaching her slowly as he continued, "You trust me to push your limits safely. I won't let this man hurt you, and I won't leave you alone with him."

Ana bit her bottom lip again as she searched for a way to clarify her point. His Ferragamo-clad feet were in front of her now, and he tilted her chin upward with a firm hand.

"Look at me, pet." Her eyes lifted hesitantly. "We'll take it slow. You can always safeword if you want to stop."

She couldn't keep the doubt from her expression, and when his lips thinned in disapproval, she returned her eyes to the floor. The last time she'd used a safeword had been during a particularly long pain session. He'd claimed not to have heard her 'yellow' and hadn't stopped or pulled back until she'd shouted the word 'red' through her tears. He'd looked displeased enough that Ana had worried he might actually punish her for safewording, but instead he'd called an end to the scene and left the room. She'd thought that perhaps neglecting aftercare had been his way of punishing her, and although she knew well enough that power exchange wasn't meant to be that way, something about his expression as he'd walked away had frightened her. She had no desire to repeat the experience tonight. With a witness, no less.

Fuck. I should just leave. Would he let me? He'd probably follow me home… and then what? Ana shuddered. Maybe I should just play along until the end of the night and break up with him tomorrow. Over the phone. Or even a text…

"Focus," her Dominant growled, reclaiming her attention. "You will not embarrass me in front of this man. Strip. Now. Then kneel."

Her hands moved robotically as she obeyed, and she flinched in surprise when a black satin blindfold was slipped over her head.

"Best if he doesn't see those eyes of yours. He'd lose his load too quickly. Besides, maybe you'll feel more comfortable this way."

She wouldn't. Of that much, Ana was certain. If anything, it was likely to make her feel even more uncomfortable, but she held her tongue. This is what you signed on for, Ana, she chastised herself. To willingly submit to your Dominant's command. It's your own fault for making it a soft limit instead of a hard one.

Ana did typically enjoy the allure of submission, but she'd felt it had been falling short of giving her that sense of liberation she'd hoped for when she'd signed Blake's contract. She'd had a couple of submissive experiences before meeting him, and she'd been able to feel that elusive high, like being enlightened and liberated at the same time. It had been truly incredible, and she'd immediately craved more.

Blake Warner had said all of the right things from their very first conversation, and their negotiations had given her the impression that he would be perfect for her. Her doubts had crept in very slowly. So slowly, in fact, that Ana hadn't realized just how incompatible they actually were until very recently. His limits weren't at all similar to her own, as he'd previously claimed. His style of domination tended to gravitate toward a Master/slave or even Owner/pet dynamic, and neither really appealed to her. Aside from her distaste for being leashed in public, the way he would pat her head irritated her. It felt like someone petting an animal rather than affectionately stroking the hair of the person they cared for. Ana was more attracted to the caretaker-type of Dom, which Blake had professed to be when they'd met.

"I've changed my mind," he announced, startling her from her thoughts. For a brief moment, she felt relief, believing he was about to call off the whole thing. "You shouldn't be kneeling when he comes in. Stand."

Ana repressed a sigh and did as she was told, allowing him to guide her a few feet to the spanking bench. He helped her to rest her stomach and knees on the padded surfaces, and she held still as he tied deft knots around her ankles, knees, and waist. Her head was extended face-down over the edge of the bench, and she felt him binding her wrists to the wooden supports below her.

She was completely immobilized.

The rest of the story can be found on acedfiction dot wordpress dot com. Click my name on the home page. I'm told the link on my FF profile isn't working, and google isn't showing it just yet (apparently because it's a new site?), so just typing it in is probably your best bet. :) Lots of people are finding it, but if you're still having trouble, please don't hesitate to find me on FB messenger (Christi Whitson). I can send you a direct link that way.

ETA: I'm flattered by all of the 'Follows' on FF, but I want to make extra clear - the rest of the story will only be posted on the new site. Not here.

Thanks for reading!