Chapter 1

"Hello, Christian Grey's phone," a voice says hesitantly. I pause. This is Christian's phone, but not Christians voice. It sounded like a young woman. Who was she, answering Christian's phone? "Hello?" The voice asks again.

"Who is this?" I ask coolly.

"This is Anastasia Steele, I'm Christian's um... Neighbor." His neighbor? His very female sounding neighbor, Anastasia Steele, left alone with his phone, at what would be midnight now in Boston.

"And where is Christian?" That boy is never without his phone, he knows the rules.

"He's in the shower." Anastasia says. I can feel my skin grow hot as my anger swells like a flame into a fire. What was this? The boy has been gone just a few days, and already he was bringing girls to his room in the middle of the night? What was she doing there?

What else would she be doing there this late? Barely out of sight and already Christian had broken the contract.

"Tell him to call me back, immediately." I say, keeping my voice as level as I'm able. I click the "end call" button, toss my BlackBerry onto the glass coffee table in front of me, and pick up a large glass of Chardonnay instead. Leaning back, I drum my newly manicured nails on the armrest. I was planning on heading to Boston this week and had wanted to look my best. But now…

What was he thinking? He knows he's mine, only mine. As I look out the glass doors to our backyard, I admire the pool and garden illuminated by hundreds of soft white lights. It had been nearly four years since Christian had been sent over by Grace to help dig that garden and install those lights. Nearly four years since I had made him mine. Like tonight, Andrew had been away on a business trip.

"Hey, Mrs. Lincoln," Christian said when I opened the door. "Mom says you're doling out my punishment today." Grace had arranged for Christian to come over this day and work on my back lawn. He had just been kicked out of his school for fighting, and Grace had hoped some manual labor would knock some sense into the boy. Only a high school sophomore, it already looked as though Christian was heading from the class room straight to a correctional facility.

"I have hours of torture planned for you, pet. Come right in." As he passed me I realized just how much the boy had grown recently. Christian was beautiful, angelic even, as he stood there in a pair of ripped Diesel jeans and a white T-shirt. He was already taller than I, and through his tight fitting shirt I could make out the faint lines of newly forming muscles. I knew just how to give those muscles a good workout.

"Head on out to the back, Christian. I've got land in need of 'scaping and you are just the man for the job."

"Great," he groaned.

It was humid, and the sun made a rare appearance as Christian labored in the yard, digging in what would soon be a garden. His shirt soaked in sweat, he pulled it off and tucked it in his back pocket. Now I could actually see those new muscles as they glinted in the sun. Bringing him a glass of lemonade, I walked into the yard.

"Hey, Christian!" I called. Turning to look at me, the large rock he was moving slipped from his arms and landed on his foot.

"Fuck!" Christian screamed. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Christian!" I yelled at him. "Calm down, and stop screaming like that out here. They'll hear you all the way across the Sound."

"Why?" He spat at me. "I'm sick of this shit anyway. Fuck this punishment, fuck your neighbors, and fuck you!" My hand cracked like a whip as it made contact with Christian's sharp cheek bone. He stopped yelling.

"Now," I said, staring into his icy gaze. "Your mother sent you here to learn some discipline, and I promised her I would teach you. You will learn to harness that temper of yours. These last few years, you've done nothing but hurt yourself, with the drinking, the fighting, getting expelled. Rather than fighting with me let me help you, Christian."

"And how the hell do you think you can help me?"

Sliding my hand to the nape of his neck, I grabbed Christian by the hair and forced his soft lips onto mine. He didn't struggle as I bit his lower lip just enough to taste his salty-sweet blood. Once I finally pulled away he gasped for air. Smiling, I handed him the cold lemonade, wet from condensation.

"I think it's time to call it a day. Come back tomorrow for a proper lesson in discipline, Christian. For now work on your restraint and keep this between us." Christian said nothing, simply staring back at me, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Turning away, I walked back into the house. It wasn't long before I heard Christian leave. I began his training the next day.

The knock at the door was a hesitant bang... Bang, bang. I smiled at the sound. It was adorable, even his knock was nervous.

"Come in!" I yelled, as I adjusted my long, red silk robe. The knob slowly turned and the door creaked open.

"He-hello? Mrs. Lincoln?" Christian called as his face appeared from behind the door.

"I'm here, Christian." I replied. He stepped into the dark foyer. The lights were dimmed, and I had closed all the house curtains so no wandering eyes could spy on the lessons I had planned for Christian. Besides, this light was my most flattering. Andrew liked to say I had a flair for the dramatic, and looking around at the scene I had set I guessed it was true. "Come in, pet. Are you ready to learn some discipline?"

"S-sure?" His voice cracked.

"This way." I said, turning down the hall, my robe fluttering behind me as I walked. Christian quickly followed. The keys in my hand jingled as I unlocked the basement door, and we descended into the darkness. Once we reached the bottom I flipped on the light. Christian looked frantically around the room.

"Do you like it?" I asked, lightly running my fingers along the red painted walls. His eyes flashed from the large bed at the room's far end, covered in black, silk sheets, to the racks on the walls holding an assortment of rods, chains, and floggers.

"The fuck is all of this?" He said. I smiled at him, and then once more slapped him-hard. "Damn it! Why do you keep doing that?" He yelled, cradling his cheek.

"Because, Christian, you need it." I answered. "I've known you since you were a boy. You're smart, Christian, brilliant even. But you lack control, and that keeps leading you to do stupid things." He tried to look away from me as I spoke, but I grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to meet mine. "I see greatness in you, but you will end up in prison or dead if you keep this up. A waste-like that crack whore who gave birth to you." His jaw quivered with rage as he scowled back at me.

"The counseling, all the psychologists, even your poor parents haven't been able to help you, because they don't understand you." I brought my hand to his chest, but before I could touch the black Bruce Springsteen T-shirt he caught my wrist. "That anxiety, that anger, wouldn't it be wonderful to have an outlet? A way to channel it all? I can save you, Christian." I finished softly. The boy's breath was uneven as he answered.

"How?"

He was mine.

"We will start with the basics," I said. We released each other and I leisurely strolled around the large room. "You're a smart boy, what do you know about BDSM?" He squirmed as he spoke.

"Just a few things I've seen on the Internet. They're the ones that use the handcuffs and whips and stuff, right?" I chuckled. It was amazing how ignorant people still were in this Age of Information.

"Well, yes, Bondage is part of it. Then there is Domination, Sadism, and Masochism. It's the ultimate release." I stopped, pulled the sash of my robe off and wrapped it tightly around my hands. The robe fell open, revealing my black bra and split-crotch panty garter set. Every woman needs her special "power suit." Christian looked me up and down. "But what it really all comes down to is control. Having it, and learning how to surrender it completely to another person. Your problem, Christian, is that you lack control, and don't know how to master yourself."

"So you're going to, what, beat it into me?" He said with a sneer.

"Exactly." He eyed the belt in my hands as I snapped it between them. "I'm what you would call a Dominant. I exercise control in all things. And I'm offering to make you my Submissive."

"Your 'bitch' you mean." He scoffed.

"Of course not," I said. "A bitch is weak. A bitch whines about the problems in their life instead of doing something about them. A bitch fears pain and so it runs from it with drinking, or drugs, rather than embracing it. I don't want to make you my bitch, Christian. I want to make you strong. I will make you strong. I will help you become the man you need to be." I placed my hand on the front of his jeans. He tensed, but he did not not move to stop me this time. I could feel his excitement growing. "You will enjoy it." I whispered into his ear.

He grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me into the wall. Our teeth clinked as he pressed his lips back onto mine. They were moist, too wet even. It felt like he was drooling on me. Dear lord, had this boy ever even kissed someone before? His hands began to grab desperately at my breasts. This time I held him by the wrists, and pushed him away. He stepped back, looking confused.

"You don't actually know how to do any of this, do you?" I said.

"Of course I do!" He yelled. "I-I mean, I know plenty." I cocked my eyebrow.

"Is anything you know not from a video hidden on your computer?"

"Wa-was that not good?" His pale cheeks flushed as he looked back sheepishly. He was truly innocent. Even with his piercing, gray eyes, and chiseled jawline, Christian was completely inexperienced. It was perfect.

"Oh, pet." I laughed, stepping towards him. He stepped back. "No one is good their first time. But fear not. All you need is a bit of training."

"Mrs. Lincoln, I'm not so-"

"Shhh..." I said, bringing my finger to his lips. "Call me Ma'am." I gracefully dropped to my knees on the cool cement floor, and moved my hands up his thighs to the button at the top of his jeans. It popped open with a flick of my wrist. Christian's eyes grew wide as dinner plates as he stared down at me. He looked ridiculous gawking at me like that, but I could hardly blame the boy. Few could even imagine being so lucky.

I was quite lucky as well I realized as I pulled down his zipper. Though new to the sport, his equipment was top quality. He shivered with pleasure at my touch, and a soft moan escaped his lips as I swallowed him, not quite wholly.

Christian laced his fingers into my hair and gripped tightly as I slowly bobbed my head. I could hear his breathing become ragged as I increased my pace. Christian's knees began to shake.

"M-Mrs. L-Lincoln-" he gasped, and I stopped, biting down slightly. "Ow!" He yelled, releasing me and pulling away.

"I told you," I said, coming to a stand, "to call me Ma'am. A Submissive who disobeys his orders will be punished." Christian just looked back at me. His mouth was moving but he seemed unable to form any words. "Now strip." He stared blankly. "Now!"

Christian pulled his shirt over his head, and dropped his pants to the floor. He was a young Adonis. All that fighting had helped tone his form. That was good-he was going to need the endurance, and a decent pain tolerance.

"Now, get on the bed." Christian immediately turned and hurried to the bed. From the pocket of my robe I fished out a gold packet. "Do you know how to use one of these?" He shook his head. The education system was failing our youth terribly. "Lie back, hands over your head." Leaning back he put his hands up, grabbing the iron rod headboard behind him.

I crawled on top of him, my legs straddling his. Bringing the robe sash to his hands, I wrapped them tightly and fastened them to the headboard. I pulled hard to ensure he wouldn't be able to wriggle free from the bonds. Sitting atop him I tore into the small, square wrapper and pulled out the little rubber circle.

"It's important to remember to always be safe, pet. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, Mrs-Ma'am." He said, nodding. I rolled the liner down to the base of his cock. His breath caught each time I gave it a light squeeze.

"Lesson one: the safe words." I said. "'No' and 'stop' mean nothing, remember that. When you're approaching your pain limit say, 'yellow'. If you want me to stop, really want me to, say 'red'. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good boy," I said, lightly slapping his cheek. I slid myself onto him.

"Holy fuck!" Christian moaned. A shock of pleasure ripped through me as his hips bucked. I remained still for a moment, feeling him twitch inside. Slowly, I began rocking my hips back and forth. Back and forth. Back and- "Fuck!" Christian cried.

His hips bucked once more and his whole body gave a violent shudder. He relaxed, panting heavily. So much for endurance.

But I'd helped him increase that endurance over the last four years. Christian didn't need a little blue pill to keep hard for three hours or more. I trained him, molded him into the perfect lover. He was my masterpiece. It was intoxicating to be someone's one and only.

And that's exactly what the contract he signed just three weeks after that first day stipulated. Christian was to be mine, exclusively. But now he was across the country, entertaining strange girls in the middle of the night. Christian was 19, I should have known he couldn't be trusted on his own. And who was this Anastasia Steele? Perhaps I should have someone look into her? Christian was now a master in the carnal arts, thanks to me, but he was still naive in the ways of women. It would be best for me to investigate this "neighbor" to ensure Christian was in no danger. Who knew what Miss Steele's intentions were? A humming pulled me from my thoughts.

The phone, still laying on the table, was lit up and vibrating. Picking it up I check the caller I.D. The screen flashes: Christian Grey. I click "answer" and hold the phone to my ear.

"Hello, Christian."