A/N: This is a completely new fandom for me and I really hope I do it justice. I intend to post this to my blog (with lots of pics) too and I shall put the address on my Bio when it eventually goes up.

WARNING: Ana has a torrid backstory not unlike Christian and is not really like the books, except for the fact she's magnetically attracted to Christian even though he's got serious issues. She's a confused soul and sometimes can sink into darkness. There will be fluff, kink, language, imagined suicide, torture and descriptions of non-con situations from her past. Very mature content from the beginning. Please be aware of this before any flames or wrath.


Chapter 1 - Dante's

The thump of her heart beating out of chest almost matched the vibrating bass of the club above her as she descended the private staircase into Dante's; Seattle's exclusive BDSM club to which she had just become a member.

With a fee of $1,000 to join at this place better be worth it! Ana mumbled to herself as she held her keycard up before the heavyset security could stop her. When she'd applied, all she had seen was a few pictures from their internet site, but when she'd asked around, discreetly of course, she knew it was the place to go if she was going to get what she needed.

The brushed chrome double doors swung open as the entry light went from red to green, where she was greeted by a two hostesses wearing thongs and nipple tassles. One took Ana's coat, whilst the other, wearing a seductive smile admired Ana's outfit.

Ana was not dressed considerably more sexy than she would on a normal day except in this case, her dress was leather. She'd aimed for sexy goth. Her shoes were sky high black 'fuck me' heels of the most decadent kind, the ankle straps reminiscent of leather bondage cuffs with a silver padlock. They were the most expensive shoes Ana had ever bought, but they were sexy and hell with a lot of naughty thrown in. Complementing the shoes were black silk seamed stockings that led up to her favourite set of Agent Provocateur lingerie. She knew that the stockings hinted at suspenders (garter belt) that would only be seen if she sat down or bent down. Anyone worth their kink knew that suspenders would be teamed with damn sexy panties and they wouldn't be wrong here. Not that any of them would see what was under her dress. That's not what she was here for.

"I love your look." The hostess purred to Ana as her eyes roamed Ana's curves.

"Thank you." Ana replied shyly as her inner goddess high-fived her subconscious. She was trying very hard to keep her eyes up rather than keep drifting down to admire the impressive breasts right before her.

It was no secret to those close to her that Ana preferred women. Her one and only 'relationship' with a man was one that she'd never want to repeat. She never talked to anyone about what happened to her and as far as she was concerned, that whole event in her life would remain deeply buried. Her past history was a mystery to those around her, even to those select few that were close to her.

It was a very rare occurrence that a man would catch her eye and when they did, they showed her exactly why she preferred women. Women were soft, they were emotive, tactile and nurturing. They weren't threatening, possessive, intimidating ego-maniacs. She felt safe with them and gave her body over to them to pleasure and returned it without fear of losing her will. Every woman she'd been with had fulfilled her needs with cries of ecstasy and with laughter. Only one of these women had been allowed further into Ana's affections and that was Kate. They were friends first and foremost, but when the need arose, shared the benefits of an intimacy that Ana could only dream of with a man. Kate knew how much Ana loved to laugh but also how she had hidden demons that needed to be soothed with feminine comfort. Ana's dream of 'hearts and flowers', was one that she never envisaged coming true but that didn't stop her dreaming. The dream was ideal and it was safe. She'd never trust a man enough to come close enough to date her, let alone get under her skin. If it wasn't for Kate, she might as well become a nun.

The hostess was wearing an old-fashioned refreshment tray tied with crimson ribbons around her neck, halter style. On the tray were a selection of masks should you wish to be incognito, along with different coloured leather cuffs. She'd read in her R&R's in her membership pack, that the different colours signified what your preferences were. White for voyeur or beginner, pink for sub, black for Dom. Tying the white cuff on her wrist and choosing a beautiful crystal covered alabaster mask at the back of her head, she smiled at the hostess before she descended further into the depths of Dante's.

The lights were dimmed, enhancing the atmosphere of mystery and anticipation. Vocalless trance music played in the background; it wasn't a place to dance, but the beat of the music easily mimicked the beat of a heart or a rhythmic penetration. It was definitely music to fuck by.

The main lounge was already filled with other members, drinking and chatting, some petting in anticipation of taking things further, maybe into a playroom she assumed. They lounged on black velvet chaises or leather loveseats, the odd solitary figure perched on a bar stool at the randomly scattered cocktail tables that provided an excellent position to 'people watch'. That's what Ana's intention was; to watch. In a place like this she was a voyeur.

She wasn't the least bit shocked by what she saw, as she witnessed sub's led by collars or leashes through the dimly lit room. She'd seen that and far worse in her small amount of years for anything to be a shock, but that didn't mean she was desensitised. The atmosphere was so sexually charged that she challenged the most righteous to not get turned on. Although she was nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs at the prospect of being propositioned, she felt confident that this place would be safe enough. Her cuff should be indication to any member what she preferred, but she could feel eyes all over her, the prospect of tormenting her broadcasting loudly in their minds.

Moving away from the lounge, she entered the first room, separated from the lounge with just a glass door. This was a voyeur's paradise 'the exhibitionists' and 'swingers' writhed and moaned with luscious abandonment as their inhibitions at being watched or shared were shattered. Gasps and moans echoed in the small audience that admired those partaking in other partners flesh, or as their eyes caught those who sought acknowledgement of their brazen behaviour. The atmosphere in the room was intoxicating in a raw sexual way; couples openly caressed each other as they watched, turned on at being privy to the intimate acts of others. Live porn, but without the fake moans, dodgy boob jobs and permaboners.

Ana could feel her slick arousal soaking the tiny gusset of her thong already. Her clit throbbed and tingled as she rubbed her thighs together as she clenched her pelvic muscles. She stood transfixed as she watched a hetero couple fucking like animals, rough and hard and fast. They were sweaty and panting; but completely focussed on the audience. She got this. She got why this was a turn on, for them it was a simple thrill bordering on narcissism. The guy, a Dom she noticed, held his partners hair and so her head was pulled up, her eyes level with the audience and mouth parted as her cries absorbed into the crowd, washing over them in vocal ecstasy. The Dom caught as many eyes as he could focus on, revelling in the connection as his pleasure was shared. He caught her eye, but Ana couldn't look at his intense gaze. His eyes were wild and dark, reminding far too much of another whose eyes were the windows of his dark, dark soul.

Shaking off the creeps that this guy gave her, and subsequently quashing her desire, Ana slipped back through the group and out of the door.

The next room was like a blast from the past, except the woman bound intricately was obviously enjoying herself and a willing participant. The dark room was oppressive and hard; black painted walls held racks of 'toys' and tracks that allowed chains to be moved wherever needed. Red leather benches at varying heights scattered the room and Ana shuddered at the memories they invoked.

In this particular 'scene', the woman, a petite blonde with small pert breasts was being flogged between her legs and on her breasts as she was cuffed to the cross. Her nipples were a deep red where fierce clamps were forcing the blood to the surface. Ana knew all too well how agonizing the pinch of clamps felt and the rush of sensation that followed when they were removed. The sub here held no such tortured pain in her voice as Ana remembered though. When the clamps were removed the Dom sucked on her nipples languidly and the sub spasmed in ecstasy, the evidence of much she enjoyed it running down her legs.

This is what forced her to come here; knowing that there were people here that enjoyed this lifestyle and chose to enjoy it's painful offerings willingly. She wanted to understand them, why they needed this over a regular relationship. Hope that somehow comprehension would click into place; give her a reason why her experience in this lifestyle turned out the way it did. Hope that understanding all this would chase her nightmares away.

She needed a drink. How much more of this could she take? It had really turned her on to start off with, all the mystery and darkness, the temptation of the unknown. Watching strangers in the dark...was she fucked up? Probably. Absolutely.

Slipping out of the room she made her way back to the bar and sat at a vacant barstool with a heavy sigh and scrunched her eyes shut for a moment. She let her eyes open slowly, suddenly aware that she was being watched from the other end of the bar by a solitary figure. Her eyes flicked down to his wrist. Black cuff.

A black cuff equalled a Dom. She definitely wasn't returning the interest there. She'd suffered more domination in her lifetime that anyone should have to endure, so making eye contact with this stranger was a big no-no. Steeling her resolve, she sat up taller and caught the eye of the bartender.

"A Hemingway please." She swiped her card over the clever touchless payment system. For some reason, she felt the need to drink the strong stuff...the stuff that he had made her drink. But it was good for taking the edge off, blurring the edges and making the difficult things easy. The bartender frowned at her.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what that is…" He was double checking the bottles lined up behind him, thinking that her request came ready bottled. Idiot. Who trains these bartenders?

Before she could explain her drink, the man she'd purposely tried to avoid looking at piped up, getting the bartenders attention. He hurried off, as Ana stood there dumbstruck at being abandoned in the middle of her order and pissed off at how rude 'the stranger' was for butting in. She didn't have time to protest before she heard the deep commanding tones of her antagonist.

"1 shot of Absinthe Original topped on a glass of chilled Bollinger, rose petal optional." Ana quirked her brow at the knowledgable stranger, surprised that anyone other than an Absinthe aficionado or Czech national knew how to make that drink. Absinthe had been shamefully stigmatised by the binge-drinking crowd who believe in the green fairy tales of the drink having hallucinogenic properties. Drunk in excess, probably, but savoured and admired for it's cornucopia of ingredients it was delicious and comforting.

She watched in surprise as the bartender silently obeyed and began fixing her drink, topping it with a rose petal from one of the elaborate floral displays on the bar, before placing it front of the stranger. With grace and lithe limbs he slid from his stool, sweeping her drink away in his long fingers and stalked towards her.

So much for not interacting with the predators.

His gaze was both alluring and intimidating, sparkling grey/blue irises came nearer and nearer, until he was right up in her personal space, causing her to shrink back on her barstool a little.

A strong but well-manicured hand proffered her drink. "Your Hemingway Miss."

She was dumbstruck again as she looked at the face that accompanied those fine long fingers, pianists fingers she mused. Handsome didn't describe him, he was more than that. Bronze mussed hair that looked like an expensive haircut just got out of bed, aquiline nose and soft looking rosy lips were framed by a strong chiselled jaw and cheekbones. His good looks mixed with his air of charm and the power that just oozed from him, made Ana tremble with both fear and desire.

Never ever had she been so affected by a man in her life, never. Not affected in a primal attraction sort of way anyway. She flushed and held out a trembling hand to take her drink. Noticing her tremble, he pulled her fingers away before she could take the drink, possibly averting her from spilling it over them, and gently held her fingers between his.

"Allow me." He glanced from the drink to her eyes, visualising his intent and gently placed the tip of the flute against her bottom lip. Warring with the feeling that she should throw the drink in his face for being so presumptuous at the same time as enjoying the kindness and intimacy of the moment with a complete (and gorgeous) stranger, she remained still, lost in contemplation.

"Open." His tone was firm, but the word seemed sensual on his smiling lips, like it had multiple meanings. Was that an order, or a request? Her inner goddess pushed her subconscious out the door, slammed and locked it before she lay back, legs akimbo... the dirty slut.

She looked down slightly at the glass, the bubbles of the milky concoction tickling her nose as they erupted. She always imagined little green fairies bursting out of these bubbles when she'd had a few. Maybe there was something in the tales of this naughty green spirit she'd come to love from the country that brought her so much pain. Looking up through her lashes at the bold stranger, she decided to live a little and indulge him (and the little green fairy). He seemed to be enjoying the tease and her unease at his proximity, but seemed superficially harmless. He didn't look too threatening for a Dom. What could it hurt?

Opening her mouth slightly, she let her tongue caress the rim of the glass as it captured the fairies, all the while keeping eye contact. His own tongue darted out to wet his lips as he took in a deep breath, obviously affected by her action. He tipped the flute to allow the effervescent nectar to wash over her tongue before she pulled back and licked her own lips to remove any trace of the fruity aniseed residue.

Not forgetting her manners, but forgetting her reluctance to 'engage' she gave him a coy smile which earned her a very sexy smile in return.

"Thank you...for the drink." She took the stem in her fingers, relinquishing him from his duty and gestured to the stool next to her as a token to her waning indifference.

He seemed reluctant to let go of her hand, but finally did as he inclined his head in thanks as he positioned his long athletic limbs on the edge of the stool. Leaning one elbow against the bar he traced the rim of his tumbler he'd set down earlier, all the while seeming to catalogue her body. The tension in the air was palpable as they silently and shamelessly inventoried each other, eyes roaming from head toe in a visual caress.

His navy suit was expensive. Very expensive. Due to her 'experience', it was obvious from the cut and style that he was a man of significant wealth; she'd seen suits like that before and they were always from a tailor. She couldn't see his shoes without obviously glancing down lower, but she imagined they were Italian leather and cost a small fortune. He probably owned dozens of pairs. The button of his jacket was open to reveal an indigo blue shirt, the top button undone and giving her a tempting view of his suprasternal notch and those strong tendons that framed his adams apple. She could see the muscles of his neck move as he swallowed and she bit her lip at the thought of how enticing his neck would look as a bead of perspiration rolled down it. Those muscles tensed and and she looked up quickly to those mesmerising eyes, now a stormy grey.

"Don't bite your lip like that." His voice sounded raw and needy. He looked turned on but cross at the same time. What the hell? It's my lip and I'll bite it if I want to!

"Why not?" He let out a growl like huff, as if annoyed with her questioning him. She was willing to go along with this, even though it was starting to piss her off just a little bit. She knew he was a Dom, but she was not his sub and she could do whatever the fuck she wanted.

She straightened her back in defiance as she waited for his explanation, her eyes fixed on his in determination. She might be enjoying a little bit of human interaction, but that didn't mean that she couldn't behave how she wanted to. He was a stranger for fucks sake!

He leaned closer to her, pinning her with his equally fiery gaze. "Because I want to do it. I want to bite it, suck it, lick it and…" he paused as he reached toward her and pulled her lip free. "Kiss it."

Ana's breath caught in her throat as she froze in place. Her subconscious was running around holding up a neon 'Danger' sign like a magician's assistant, whilst her inner goddess whipped out the lipgloss and breath mints. Hussy.

'Dom' stared at her like he was looking into her very soul; like he was reaching in stoking up something that had only appeared for her female lovers. Desire.

Fuck...what to say in reply? Anything….nothing?

The hard shell that Ana had made for herself, to protect herself from this kind of interaction, melted like chocolate and she couldn't help herself. He both attracted her and frightened her.

He still made no move; he just stared at her like those people do who are trying to force an answer out of someone. Like in an interrogation. Say nothing and sooner or later, the other person will be desperate to fill the silence. She was terrified of saying something that made her sound weak and no sooner as she had the thought, she look down at her lap, embarrassed at her lack of response. She wanted to be strong, impervious to all this submissive shit and yet here she was, right in the lions den of depravity with an alpha and not able to meet his eye. She was a mess.

When she didn't answer or look up for so long, those nimble fingers lifted her chin for her. What she saw was surprising. Instead of a hungry predators gaze, she saw a smug smile. He seemed pleased at her reaction. She felt her cheeks hot with shame for being so affected by just a simple comment...a sexy one, but still just words.

Her mouth had gone dry. Glancing at her drink, she took a good swig and let the liquid courage slither down her throat. She could do this, she was strong. He was only a man after all.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, but that won't be happening." It was a both a rebuke and an invitation to challenge her.

"Are you with someone?" His question was vague, but she knew exactly what he meant. Was she in the market for a Dom? Surely he knew that from the colour band she wore that she wasn't. Perhaps that was it? The lure of the white, innocent, uninitiated. Boy, did he have it wrong there.

"NO!" She protested loudly to her own thought surprising herself, him and the bartender before repeating herself more quietly.

"No. I'm...just me." She meant that as a statement of independence. She wasn't part of pair - Dom and sub. To her that meant one entity; the Dom swallowed you whole, took you over and lived inside you like a host. Controlling your actions, emotions and every thought you dared to have.

She was just her now; strong but brittle, beautiful but flawed, desired but unloved.

He licked his lips and took another swig of his own drink before turning back to her. "Just me sounds lonely…"

Ana thought for a moment. Was she lonely? That wasn't why she was here; she was here to get answers not a 'Master'. As much as this stranger was alluring, it was intention to draw her into his domain and she didn't want that. This wasn't the place you picked up random strangers for a drink or a date; you picked a Dom or a sub and you tested their desires and their limits, right here and now.

She needed to get out of here. This was a mistake.

"I like lonely, it's safe." She put on a brave face and looked him straight in the eye. "I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I'm...looking for someone. I'm not."

His eyes narrowed slightly. For a brief moment he looked both thoughtful and disappointed at the same time. He took her hand again and kissed her knuckles gently.

"I apologize for my forwardness. I hope you find what you're looking for." He inclined his head and rose from his seat fluidly and disappeared into the shadows.

Ana let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding since he took hold of her hand. Her hand was shaking again and had to grip it with her other. A nervous tell from a time when her fingers were used as a weapon against her. This stranger had kissed her fingers and it had nothing to do with fear this time. This time she felt the tenderness behind the gesture. She looked down at her hands. She hated them. Her long, slim fingers were littered with scars from multiple surgeries. Surgeries to straighten and mend the torture inflicted on her hands every time she displeased her Master.

Icy shivers ran down her spine at the thought and decided it was time to go. Any trace of pleasure she'd felt at the interaction before was gone and she suddenly needed her solitude. She looked around once before she left, wondering if this was the biggest mistake or the biggest wake up call.

It was both. She couldn't keep turning up at places like this and hope to get the answers she wanted without painful memories being dredged up. The possibility of getting drawn into a toxic pairing was too high. It was a close call tonight-she'd thought about the possibility with this stranger for just a split second.

A split second is all it takes to change your life. She found that out the hard way.

Christian watched the brunette leave with great difficulty. He wanted to follow her, possibly seduce her into an arrangement with him but at the same time, he could see the fragility and fear in her eyes. She seemed to know the scene, but at the same time he sensed she had not enjoyed it.

Why had she come here? What was she into? Dante's wasn't as depraved as some places he'd been, but still, it indulged in all but the most extreme sexual desires. BDSM was just a baseline here; other more select tastes were catered for in private rooms.

She'd worn a white band, not a sub then. But there was definitely something submissive about her. The way she corrected her posture, the looking at her lap and the lip biting. Fuck, the lip biting! She had such a juicy bottom lip, he had itched to suck it and bite it. He couldn't help himself from saying that out loud. Never one for openly approaching women, he had been a little out of his element, but this heavenly creature was just too delicious to pass over.

Walking into the bar, he'd noticed her straight away. She was stunning; exactly his type with rich glossy hair, pale skin and natural beauty. The dress she wore was as classy as it was sexy. It showed just the right amount of flesh and teased the imagination. The bondage style shoes gave him a wicked fantasy as he imagined where those stocking seams ended. It made his cock ache. But there was also something very vulnerable and soft in her appearance that made the protector in him want to shield her from this place. She looked like she both belonged and stood out and that made him take even more notice.

He'd followed her discreetly as she moved her way through the rooms. She'd left Miguel and Antonia to their scene, obviously not turned on by their exhibitionism but stayed some time in the dungeon where Alex and Amber indulged in a little trad BDSM. The scene was tame for them and for him too.

He enjoyed producing pleasure a little more than pain, but that it was the control that fueled him. What fueled most Dom's. Everybody there understood and enjoyed this exchange but not this woman. She had looked confused and possibly a little disgusted as he observed her from his place in the shadows. It was as if she were trying hard to solve a puzzle and just didn't get it. The dilemma was obvious to him; she was turned on and appalled at the same time. He wanted to help her solve her dilemma, her puzzle. He wanted to know her.

Intrigued by her choice of drink, and then her reaction to him offering to feed her said drink, he was fueled by a desire so intense that he just had to ask if she was free. This time though, a vulnerability not unlike his own caused him to back off. His keen observation skills and knack for judging situations by intelligence and his gut, told him that this girl was damaged. Kissing her hand, he'd noticed the micro-scars on each one of her knuckles. Her fingers were long like his, but she moved them stiffly. He'd noticed that when she'd held her drink on her own. He'd caught a glimpse of what he thought was a tattoo around her wrist too, when her wrist flexed as he held it, the large silver cuff she'd worn on the opposite arm to the white cuff, rose up to reveal a brand. Was it on the other wrist too?

He knew that vulnerable look; he'd seen it in his own eyes, so he reluctantly let her go.

He wished he knew her name. He needed it, because when it came time to sleep he needed a name for his dreams.

"Damon?" He called over the bartender...who obviously needed more training in mixing drinks.

He looked up from where he was chipping ice. "Yes Mr Grey?" His eyes nervous in anticipation.

"What was the name of the member you made the Hemingway for?" Personal information like that was only available to staff and owners; good job he owned the place...well, co-owned anyway.

Damon turned to the touch screen and tapped on it's glass surface, skimming back through his register of sales. Each guest swiped their card when they came in and then again at the bar when they bought a drink. That way nobody had to find places to keep cash or cards in their not so practical outfits. Handy then that this woman had scanned hers before she accepted the drink from him.

"Anastasia Steele, sir. Membership number 0016." Christian nodded in acknowledgement as he tapped away on his phone. He could access the club's records from there and know her details instantly.

It was good to be the boss.


Thanks for reading. Your comments, reviews or even just follows are most gratefully received.

Note: The music I imagine that was playing at Dante's is an old dance tune from the 90's that was played in the club scene of the movie 'Basic Instinct'. It's 'Blue' by LaTour and I will shamelessly admit to having very naughty sex to this whilst not quite in my right mind (say no more). It's a sexy scene in the movie, but I remember it most for my own experience.