ANA
"You've been such a good little girl," he says stroking my hair, "I have a surprise for you tomorrow night."
"What is it, sir?"
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"
"No, sir."
"Trust me. It will be very stimulating," he whispers into my ear. "Be here by 5. Make sure you're cleanly shaven. Everywhere. I want you to wear your white lingerie under a tight mini dress and high heels."
"A tight dress, sir?" I'm not completely comfortable with my body yet, and I don't like wearing fitted clothing.
He smacks my ass. Hard. "Don't question me. You're very lovely, Anastasia. Sexy. I don't want to hear another word of that."
"Thank you, sir. I'm sorry for questioning you, sir."
"You're forgiven. Now, clean up your toys before you leave."
He leaves me alone in his dungeon where I tidy up. I place the handcuffs and whips back in their proper place and sanitize the nipple clamps and vibrators. I want to please him.
Sir hasn't fucked me yet. He's seemed to have done everything to my body except that. I've been whipped, chained, flogged, suspended, beaten, but not fucked. I'm aching for him, but sir knows what I need best. I should know better than to question his methods.
Perhaps that's his surprise for me. I leave his dungeon with a smile on my face and a skip in my step.
I follow Jack's instructions to a tee and show up at 5 o'clock sharp in a slutty dress and heels I can barely walk in.
"Get in the car, slut," he says when I arrive.
"Where are we going, sir?" I ask.
"Surprise," he reminds me, "Now no more questions, and keep your eyes downcast."
"Yes, sir."
The car comes to a stop in the driveway of an unfamiliar house.
"Sir?"
"No questions. Get out."
He leads me along the winding cobblestone path to a large metal door. My heart beats in my chest, fear setting in.
"You'll do anything I tell you tonight, slut."
"Yes, sir."
He opens the door, revealing a dungeon just like he has at his house. Whips, canes, handcuffs are hung on the walls and various BDSM furniture is splayed across the room. There's a grid on the wall designed for suspension, a St. Andrews Cross, a whipping bench, and things I have never seen before that look like torture devices.
I instantly feel uncomfortable. I want to ask why we're here, but I don't want to suffer the consequences.
He leads me to the corner of the room and unzips my dress. He tells me to get into the submissive position, and I comply, kneeling with my hands lying flat on my thighs, eyes downcast.
"Good girl." He plays with my hair and continues, "Who do you belong to?"
"You, sir."
I see his feet move in circles around me. "I'm going to share you with a friend tonight, Anastasia."
My heart stops.
"Share, sir?"
"I thought you'd like to feel what it's like to have a hard, thick cock inside of your dirty cunt."
"I want yours, sir."
He chuckles sadistically, "Little whores don't get to demand things. They take what's given to them. And I'm giving you to my friend tonight. You're to listen to his every command just as you do with me."
"Of course, sir." I'm extremely nervous and can feel the anxiety start to set in. A stranger is about to take my virginity. "Are you going to stay with me, sir?"
"No, Anastasia. Once he's done with you, he's going to bring you back to me. But be warned, this man is sex mad. He can fuck for hours, and I want you to show him how well I've trained you. Now hush. Not another word unless your new master asks you a question."
I nod my head to let him know I understand.
"Such a good girl. I think this might be more fun if I blindfold you."
He wraps a satin blindfold around my eyes, completely blocking my vision.
"Goodbye, Anastasia. I trust you'll have a stimulating night."
I hear the sound of his footsteps waning, and the slam of the door signals that I've been left alone.
That's when I realize my panties are drenched. I'm turned on by the prospect of being fucked and used by a stranger. Someone I don't know is about to take my virginity. It sounds sick and masochistic, but the thought makes me excited.
A few minutes later, I hear the opening of the door and soft footsteps approaching me.
The mystery man caresses my face, and his deep sultry voice catches my attention, "You are so beautiful."
I open my mouth to thank him but then remember my place. Do not speak unless asked a direct question.
He runs his fingers along my clavicle and says, "My name's Chris. What's yours."
"Rose," I answer, not wanting to reveal my real name.
"You are so lovely, Rose. Never forget that."
"Miss Steele," he greets me, bringing back the memories of my first time.
It was wonderful, the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. He was dominating and tender at the same time. I used to have dreams about him, wishing he would take me just one more time. But I kept submitting to Jack. I knew I didn't deserve a man as sexy and giving as him. I deserved someone like Jack. Someone brutal and harsh to show me the way in life.
But this can't be him. Can it? Imagine, Christian Grey, out of all the people in the world. It can't be him! No, no, no, I refuse to believe it.
As much as I want to deny it, the voice is undeniably his. The way he says my names brings me back to the memories of my first lover chanting "Rose," like it was the gospel.
"Mr. Grey," I reply, shaking his hand.
Even though I never got to see this beautiful man's face those nine long years ago, I feel emotionally connected to him in an indescribable way.
Mia politely excuses herself, leaving Christian and me alone.
"What brings you here tonight, Ms. Steele?" he asks.
"Please call me Ana. And your father invited me. He gave some legal advice a few weeks ago, and I owed him. Plus, this is a wonderful charity. Such an important cause, Mr. Grey."
"It is," he agrees, "But please, it's Christian."
"You know I've heard horror stories of former employees calling you by your first name."
He lets out a small chuckle, "All rumors. You know how it is."
I nod affirmatively.
"So where's your date?" he asks casually.
"No date," I reply, "But you knew that, didn't you?" I've never been seen or photographed with a man my age that wasn't a business associate. People have speculated about my sexual orientation and have even gone as far as to say I'm the reincarnation of the Virgin Mary.
"Just asking," he smiles, "A beautiful woman like yourself shouldn't be left alone." Such a dominant thing to say…
"Well, I'm a big girl, Christian. I can take care of myself."
"You shouldn't have to."
Suddenly this conversation is getting much too personal for me. I've just met him. But he took my virginity. At least, I'm pretty sure.
He senses the shift in my demeanor and changes the topic, "Will you be participating in the first dance auction. I'd love to get to know you better."
"That sounds… very barbaric."
"Trust me, it's all for a good cause."
He gently lifts my arm and places a gentle kiss on the back of my hand, leaving me stunned.
When Christian leaves, Mia comes back running.
"That was my older brother. I'm sorry if he was rude to you. He's very grumpy sometimes."
"He was nothing but a gentleman."
"Oh, well in that case, do you want to be part of the first dance auction? We wear masks, so it's all anonymous."
"Gentleman, this lovely lady goes by the name Jasmine. She speaks five languages, is an avid skier, and loves long walks on the beach. Do I hear five thousand?"
"Five thousand," someone shouts.
"Five thousand going once…"
"Six thousand," another man shouts.
"Six thousand for the lovely Jasmine. Going once, going twice, sold!"
"Well, gentleman… Up next, we have the beautiful Rose."
I walk onto the stage, concealed by an intricate silver mask that perfectly matches my evening attire.
I see Christian in the audience, looking smug. He winks at me, and can't help but smile.
"In addition to being breathtakingly beautiful, Rose used to play competitive tennis, has a black belt in karate, and loves to travel the world." At least one of those things is true. "The bidding starts at five thousand!"
"Ten thousand," Christian shouts immediately.
"Fifteen thousand," someone else bids. I look closer and see it's Flynn. Then I see Christian staring daggers at him, and Flynn laughs without a care. Do they know each other?
"Twenty thousand," Christian states.
"Thirty thousand," Flynn raises. It looks like he's taunting Christian. What the hell is going on here?
"Fifty thousand," Christian says forcefully.
"We've got high rollers in the house tonight!"
"A hundred grand," Flynn chuckles.
"A million dollars," Christian says finally. Everyone in the room including me gasps, utterly stunned.
Flynn puts his hands up in defeat, backing away.
"A million dollars, fellas. Going once, going twice, sold to Mr. Christian Grey."
I walk off the stage, incredulous to what just transpired.
He takes my hand, helping me down the stairs, and removes my mask.
"Rose," he whispers.
"Chris…"