Chapter 1-Punished

CG

She's gone. The pain grips me, squeezing my heart until there's nothing left.

I sink to the floor, staring at my half-empty glass of bourbon. Elena's words come back: Remember Christian, Love is for fools.

The only problem with that was Ana. Ana, with her bright smile and big heart, believed wholeheartedly in love.

Daisy Buchanan once said in The Great Gatsby: "I hope she'll be a fool-that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful, little fool.

Yeah, Ana was a fool, the most beautiful fool I have ever met. She was a fool for tripping in my office, she was a fool for signing my contract, and she was a fool for loving a monster.

I wanted to keep her my fool, keep her bright smile and beautiful giggle. But I guess I was fooling myself all along.

And now, she's no longer a fool. She sees me for who I am.

I've hurt Ana. I broke her heart. She gave me everything; she gave me her breathtaking smile, her beautiful giggle, her bright heart.

And what did I do?

I tied her up and whipped her with my thickest belt.

In my defense, I warned her, time and time again, that she can't love me, that a sadist like me wasn't worth loving. But she didn't listen, the way Anastasia never listens.

She could've safe worded, but she didn't do that either. She just laid there and took every lash. She even counted.

By now, I've downed my fourth glass of bourbon. I had hurt the only person I swear I'd never hurt.

She consented to it, of course, but I knew better. Ana's too innocent in the world of BDSM, and I've crushed that innocence. It should've been me on the whipping bench.

I look at all the bottles of beer, bourbon, and whiskey littered around me. How do I get rid of this pain? It's as if a thousand cigarettes are being simultaneously pressed into my chest.

How do I stop this?

The answer to that is quite simple. Pain. Only pain can mask pain. Physical pain can always cover up all the emotional scars.

With that in mind, I call Elena.

"Christian, sweetie, how have you been? You know, it's been such a long time since I've seen you. You really must stop by sometime." She purrs, making me gag.

"Elena, find me a Dom, him or her, I don't care, just make sure he or she's good with a cane. Tell them not to expect sex of any kind. I want…no, I need someone to punish me. Severely."

I hear Elena's frown over the phone. "Christian, sweetie, is everything alright? I can always…"

Her sentence is cut off by my growl. "No, Elena. That's gross; I'm not 15 anymore. Just do as I fucking asked."

Elena sighs. "Ok, sweetie, whatever you need. I'll have your Dom selected in 30 minutes."

I nod, and without saying another word, head over.

The smell of wood mixed with leather greets my nose when I step into Elena's club, Escalava, and I run my hands along the black, menacing edge of the wall, caressing the dark oak. Elena, with her Botox face and bleached hair comes strutting over. I give her a fake kiss on the cheek.

"Your Dom is waiting for you in room 309. I must warn you, he's known to be strict."

"The stricter, the better."

Room 309, I used this room many times before, it was where I first trained to be a Dom, but here I am again. Christian, the submissive.

Taking a deep breath, I allow myself to slip into my submissive zone. The familiar sense of peace washes over me. Yes, this is what I need, to allow someone else to take away my pain. Well, at least the emotional part.

I enter the room, eyes down, head bowed, and kneel. I've already undressed in the smaller, side room. As I kneel, I make sure my back is straight, my knees apart. I interlace my hands, opening my shoulders, and place them behind my head.

I've already communicated to Elena that I just want to be punished, no sex, and I'm sure she told my Dom, whoever the hell he is.

I'm not into guys, but I've tried everything, and if it's just for punishment, I'm ok with it. Plus, the thought of being with another woman repulses me.

A man crouches down in front of me. He has mocha dark eyes that glow with warmth. "I'm Jose. Are you Christian?" he asks.

"Yes, sir." I say, keeping my eyes down.

"And you contacted Elena. She said you wanted to be punish with a cane. Is that information correct?

"Yes, sir."

"May I ask why you want to be punished so badly?"

"It's personal, sir."

He nods in understanding. "Ok, I won't push the matter, although I wish you'd tell me. Are you experienced with a cane?" he asks.

"I have been, sir."

He raises his eyebrows. "Please elaborate."

"I was very experienced with the cane when I was a submissive, but I haven't been a sub in 4 years, sir."

His eyebrows furrow. "You're a Dom?" he asks. It was a question.

"Yes, sir."

"Then why are you being a sub tonight?"

"Like I said, it's personal sir."

His eyebrows remain furrowed. "You said you didn't want any sex, and no touching on the chest whatsoever, you also mentioned you didn't want aftercare. Your safe words are yellow and red. Is this all correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Anything else you would like to bring to my attention?"

"Yes sir. I would prefer you don't stop canning me until I safe word, and I would also like to request the black, synthetic cane…Sir."

I peek at my Dom; his eyes seem to bore into me. "You want to punish yourself for something, don't you?" He finally asks. It was more of a statement.

"Yes, sir."

"Ok, I'll do as you ask, but you must promise me something."

"Anything, sir."

"You'll safe word when you need, is that understood? This is BDSM, not abuse."

"Yes sir, I understand."

"Very well, please go to the black cross."

I slowly get up, ignoring the light ache in my knees, and walk to the cross. Jose, my Dom, comes and bounds me, cuffing both my wrist and ankles.

The cool air in the room prickles my skin, and I shiver. Jose lays a hand on my back; I think it's to comfort me in some odd way…

Soon, I hear the all too familiar whistling of the cane slicing through the air. At first, I don't feel anything, but then the red, hot line of pain blossoms down my back.

"Ahhh…" I cry out in surprise.

Fuck, this hurts.

As the canning continued, my body begins to relax.

Yes, this hurts, but it's the better kind of hurt. The pain drives out all regrets, all heartache.

Again and again, the cane cracks across my back. I screw my eyes shut.

I know I shouldn't think about Ana, but my mind slips as it goes into subspace, the endorphins pulsing through me.

Did she feel this much pain when I whipped her? Why didn't she safe word? I should've never used the belt on her. No, not on my fragile Ana. I wonder what she's doing? Is she thinking of me? Is she crying? Is she eating? Oh no! What if she's not eating? She'd remember to take care of herself right? I should've never whipped her, should've never let the tears course down her face. She said she loves me. But is that possible? No, no, it's not. I'm not worth loving. I deserve punishment. Yes, this is justice. Justice for my actions.

I don't know for sure, but I think my back is numb. Then, the canning stops. I feel someone unbinding me, and I sink to the floor, unable to stand.

"You didn't safe word." Jose's voice is accusatory.

I lie on the floor, and for the first time, I cry.

Jose crouches by me. "Hey, hey, hey. It's over. You're ok." He continues to softly whisper in my ears as I cry, letting out all the pain of losing Ana.

Finally, my tears die down to the occasional sniffle and hiccup. The wooden floor is hard beneath me, and I register someone, probably Jose, draping a blanket around my naked body.

"Here, let me help you." he offers, trying to sling my arm around his shoulder, but I stumble, the act of standing too painful to bear.

After trying two more times and failing both. Jose helps me onto the large, red bed in the room. "I'll be right back." He tells me, gently.

Not even 5 minutes later, Jose comes back with Taylor. Taylor.

He frowns at me. "Mr. Grey." He also sounds accusatory. Jose looks sheepish, scratching the back of his neck.

"He told me not to stop until he safe worded, but he never did, so…" Jose points to my back with lacerations all over it.

Taylor seems unhappy, worried even.

"Mr. Grey." He says again. This time his voice contains a tinge of sympathy. He slings me onto his back.

Taylor's strong. I'll give him that.

"This is because of Ana, isn't it?" he finally asks, and I feel new tears forming in my eyes. Taylor sighs as he carries me back to Escala.

Soon, I'm tucked in my own bed, the deep blue of my bedroom surrounding me, but it's missing something.

Someone.

Unable to resist the call of sleep, my eyelids fall shut, only to be awaken by a nightmare.

2 days later

The pain returned.

No, not the physical pain.

My back is starting to heal. I could not get out of bed for the last two days, but today, I was able to stagger to the shower. Of course, I shielded away from the hot, cascading water as it splashed on my fresh welts.

Gail has been fussing. She made chicken soap and practically spoon-fed me. I told her there was no need, that I wasn't hungry, but a new thing I learned about Gail was, she is stubborn.

As my physical pain started to heal and fade away, my emotional pain returned.

The pain of what I did to Ana.

The drinking started again. Taylor found me this afternoon shit drunk. He was not amused to say the least, and now he confiscated all of my alcohol.

How the fuck did he know where I hid the whiskey?

I can't sleep, can't do anything. A complete, dysfunctional mess of a guilt-ridden, heart-broken CEO.

I need something.

I need Ana.

But I chased her away, so I'll have to settle on something else, something to take away my pain.

Another canning?

I call Elena.

"Christian, it's such a surprise to hear from you so soon. Jose said he went pretty hard on you, I think he's a bit guilty, but I'm sure you could take anything after my training." Her voice is too sickly sweet, and my skin crawls.

"Listen Elena, get Jose for me. I'll be there in half-an-hour." I say and hang up.

Somehow, someway, I managed to sneak pass Taylor and Gail. The club isn't far, and I call a taxi. I hiss as I sit down, and the driver shoots me a quizzical look.

Soon, I'm standing in front of room 309. I am Christian, the submissive, once again.

Jose's already sitting cross legged on the big, red bed. I've never studied him closely, but he has short tuffs of dark hair that matches his eyes, and his olive tan skin ripples with the muscles beneath them.

He's regarding me with concern.

"Take off your shirt." He commands. His voice is soft.

I obey and sit in front of him. I feel his fingers lightly caress each welt.

"I'm not canning you again, you still need to heal, and I can't trust you to use your safe words." He finally says.

My heart plummets.

"Please sir." I beg.

He shakes his head. "No, Christian. I don't know why you want to be punished so badly, but I'm not doing it. It's not healthy." He states.

My mind races as I consider this, and I know there's no other way. "If I tell you why I wanted to punished, will you cane me?" I ask.

Jose's eyebrows knit together. "I guess it depends, but there's really very little you could do to convince me that you deserved to be punished." He says.

I close my eyes. "Sir, you know how I told you I was a Dom?"

"Yes, I was curious about that."

"Well, I had several subs, but my last one, well, she was not really my sub. I think I loved her.

Jose nods, a small smile playing by his lips.

"Ahh, I know the feeling."

"But she's gone sir. I chased her away. We got in a big fight, and I was so angry that I belted her. I didn't stop, not even when she safe worded."

The last sentence was a lie, of course, but it would do the trick. As a Dom, the first rule you must learn is to respect your sub's limits, or else BDSM crosses into the lines of abuse. And when a Dom abuses his sub, it's the most despicable thing. This is the greatest crime of a Dom.

Jose's eyes flare with anger. "You what?" His soft voice was gone; his new voice sends shivers down my back.

I bow my head, knowing I got my wish.

"How could you do that? You must've devastated her, did you even comfort her afterwards? You abused her. You know we all say BDSM is not abuse, but assholes like you ruin that.

I keep my head bowed.

Jose gets up and starts pacing the room, balling his fists.

I wait.

"You know what? I take back what I said, you do deserve to be punished. Jesus, how can someone even do that to another person? Go to the cross, now, and don't forget your fucking safe words because I will never stoop to abuse."

"Yes sir."

Jose immediately cuffs me, and the cane cuts across my back. Hard.

Much Harder.

My old can welts rip open as the new ones slice into my tender flesh, but I don't care. This is what I need. Pain.

Time passes. I don't safe word because I know I don't deserve to safe word. I just take every lash, allowing the pain to consume me, and strangely, I find peace, the same way I did when I was 15.

After a while, everything turns dark.

I wake, and a very worried Jose is bent over me. He's running his hands through my hair.

"Christian? Christian?"

"Yeah…what?" my voice strains because it's so raw. I try moving, but soon realize every fiber of my body hurts as if I'm lying on glass shards.

Jose strokes my cheek. "I am so, so sorry."

"What for?" I ask, still puzzled and slightly dazed.

Jose sighs, his eyes flashing with guilt and sympathy. "Once you told me what you did to your sub, I was so mad because as a Dom…I…never mind…I was just so, so mad that I lost control, and you didn't use your safe words, yet again." At this, he shoots me an accusatory look but continues. "Like I said, you didn't safe word and I lost control. I caned you so hard and long that you passed out. I'm sorry." He says, bowing his head.

I quirk my eyebrows. "What are you sorry for? I asked for it." I say, trying to shrug my shoulders, but the pain across by back stops me.

Jose sighs. "I already applied arnica cream. Your back, however…I don't know, it's pretty bad." He says.

"It's ok. Don't beat yourself up, I asked for it." I tell him honestly.

Jose sighs again. "I already called Elena, and she somehow got hold of Taylor. I think he's going to be here soon. By the way, he's pretty pissed."

Oh no, Taylor. I snuck past him. He's probably beyond pissed, more like full-on rage.

Before I can even finish my thought, Taylor comes storming through the doors. He's dressed in nothing but sweat pants and a t-shirt. He was probably sleeping.

Jose goes to talk with him quietly; Taylor's fists clench and unclench.

"I see." He finally says, completely devoid of emotion.

He doesn't say anything as he helps me up.