A/N: Hello everyone! I just wanted to say a quick and sincere thank you for all the reviews, favorites and follows on the first chapter of this story! I wanted to get this one out there so you could start to understand Ana's background better. Christian's will come in pieces over time, but to answer the question everyone wanted to know, no, he had no BDSM past. But that's all I'm saying! And for those asking about Guilty Conscious, I promise I'm working on that too!

ANA

Six Years Earlier

"Miss Steele, may I please see you for a moment after class?" Mr. Kennedy asked seconds before the final bell rang. She nodded. It's not like she could say no. He was her teacher. Her teacher of a class she was struggling in. She loved her advanced lit class. She liked her elective cooking class. She could pass history, foreign language, even though she didn't care much for them. Math… eh. It was doable. But this physics class was killing her. What she wouldn't give to just stay at home and read all day.

Because let's face it, she didn't fit in at school. She was shy—painfully shy. She'd been shipped around by her mom from state to state to state for so long, following the slew of men she dared to marry within months of the first introduction. She had finally been allowed to move back to Montesano with Ray three months ago, but no one here knew her. No one tried. She'd already felt uncomfortable in social situations, but the pressure of high school gave her severe anxiety. She was so uncomfortable in her own skin she was often clumsy, dropping things or tripping over her own two feet. Kids poked fun at her for being so quiet and so nervous. She'd been asked to a danced once and stuttered through the whole conversation, only to find out it was a joke in the end.

She hated school.

So she kept to herself.

"Is this about my quiz, Mr. Kennedy," she asked after all the students had left the room. "I had a feeling I didn't do well."

"I haven't even graded them yet," he said, pulling a chair up next to his desk and motioning for her to take a seat. He flashed her a smile, and she had to admit, for an adult, he was handsome. Jet black hair, dark green eyes. He was self-assured, something she craved to be. She knew girls all over school swooned over him. He was the resident hottie teacher they all joked about sleeping with in exchange for good grades. Ana didn't really give any thought to dating—she didn't have the power to attract friends, let alone the power to attract a boyfriend. She'd kissed a boy once in the brief time she lived in Las Vegas, before coming back to Montesano, but that was it. So she didn't even entertain thoughts of boys, like most girls her age did. But even she had to admit, Mr. Kennedy was attractive. He had friendly eyes and a kind smile. He was always willing to help Ana out after class, offering her extra credit to keep her grade up. He knew she struggled, and did what he could to help, and she appreciated it.

"What is this about then?" she asked.

He leaned against his desk, right next to where her chair was. His arms were crossed over his chest, one foot crossed over the other at the ankle. He looked down at her, his eyes boring into her, looking deep, but not intimidatingly. "I was once like you," he said slowly, uncrossing his arms to rest his palms on the surface of his desk. "I felt like I had no control."

"I…" she stammered. What a personal observation. He'd never done that before. She flushed immediately.

"I see how awkward social interactions are between you and the other students. I know you are a smart, talented young woman. You're just shy. You have no control over what you put out into the world, and I'm sorry to say, the world will eat you up for that one day. This is just high school. The rest of the people out there," he said, waving his hand around the room, "They're worse. I'm not saying this to upset you, Ana. What I'm trying to say, is I understand. I've been there. But someone helped me, and I'd like to do the same for you. Will you let me?"

He'd said all the right things. She wanted to be confident, wanted to have control. And the offer to get it was too good to pass up.

"Yes."

That yes would change her whole life. She had no idea what she was agreeing to. But the way he spoke, the passion, the confidence… she wanted that. In that short speech he'd reached straight into gut and stirred up fears and desires that she'd carried all her life. She'd been won over in an instant. She trusted him. He'd been helping her for months now at school. And he was offering her something she desperately wanted—control over herself.

She'd met him the next day on a street a few blocks from the school after classes and he'd driven her to his home. She'd been nervous, almost backed out, but he'd convinced her with smooth words and wonderful promises that what he was going to offer her would change her life. He opened up to her, told her how he'd been a troubled teen who had been drinking and fighting all the time. His life was going downhill fast, but before he could completely ruin it, he met a woman who taught him control.

"Please let me do the same for you, Ana. You've got the purest heart I've ever met. You deserve to be happy. Please, let me help you find yourself, and find happiness."

Those were the words that had done it. He was right, she did not know herself. She felt like an empty body just floating through life, going through the motions. She had a little happiness, and that was in books, but that was a vicarious thrill. She, Anastasia Steele, was nothing, no one. She wanted to be someone. She craved an identity. And he saw something in her. She wanted to be what he saw. That was the moment she became desperate to prove to him that he was right, that she could be somebody. She would do anything he asked, for him, to bring him happiness. She'd told him this, blurted it out like verbal diarrhea.

He'd grinned.

Submission.

She was born for it, he'd said.

He'd led her inside his home, and he'd explained his lifestyle of BDSM and what it did to help him.

Punishment.

That was his tool, to start. The sexual stuff, that came later, for them. Not long, only a couple of months. But in those first couple of months, he taught her control with punishment. He taught her control over her body, over her words, over everything, by punishing her when she failed at tasks he'd set up for her to do to become more socially acclimated. She would be punished for bad grades, tardiness, for every time she knocked over a book in class or tripped in the halls. Everything that made her the gawky awkward girl she was, was grounds for punishment. He said it all had to do with control, and she would see that soon enough. Her first task/lesson/punishment had been so simple, yet so powerful.

He'd forced her to read a paragraph from the text book aloud in class. That was it.

But she'd hesitated. Then stuttered three separate times during one measly paragraph.

That first punishment had been strictly verbal. It was just harsh words expressing his disappointment in her. Disappointment. The words, the concept had eaten at her. He was trying to help, and she had disappointed him at the first try. It made her feel horrible.

The next time, she'd stutter only once, and had read without hesitation. She'd improved. For him.

From there, there were countless situations, ranging from talking to strangers at the store, to initiating the request for classmates to be her partner for group activities, to asking a girl to hang out at the mall. He was always around, listening. If she stuttered through her speech, she got punished. If she gave up too easily, punished. As time went on, physical punishment was added. The first time, about three weeks after she'd first agreed to all of it, he'd done so because she'd skipped class. Ray had wanted to take her fishing, and even signed off on it. But Mr. Kennedy did not think fishing was a good enough reason to miss school. He said it was disrespectful to him, to the rest of the teaching staff, and detrimental to her education to miss school because of some recreational activity. That day was the first day he'd ever spanked her. It had been over her clothes, but none-the-less, it was a spanking. She'd been so embarrassed.

He'd been pleased that she'd accepted the punishment, and had offered up a sincere apology unprovoked. And she found that his happiness made her heart soar. That was the day she truly realized how much she truly loved pleasing him. She hadn't wanted to ever disappoint him again. She wanted to make him happy.

Then there was the day, about two months in, when she'd penned 'Ana Steele' across the track sign-up sheet, something she'd always wanted to do, but had always been too anxious to do it. He'd approached her after class, asking if she'd signed up. Immediately she'd tensed. Shit. She should have asked first. Eyes downcast, she admitted she had.

"Look at me," he insisted, his voice hard, like it was when he punished her. She did, and he was smiling. Smiling. "I'm so proud of you, Ana. You did something you wanted to do, something social, without needed to be told. That, my dear sweet girl, is control."

She'd beamed. He'd told her how beautiful her smile was, like he always did.

But this time, there was something different in his eyes. He moved toward her, cupped her cheeks in his hands, and he'd kissed her. Soft and sweet. He tasted like coffee and mint.

She'd loved it.

The sex started not long after.

From there, as they grew together, things shifted. Once sex was a part of the equation, and once she really gained confidence with her body and started to exhibit control over herself, things shifted to a more traditional Dom/dub situation with traditional expectations. Of course she wasn't allowed to date, she'd be punished for even talking to guys most of the time. He was pretty possessive of his 'little pet project' and he so often liked to call her. She had a few acquaintances at school, but no real friends. She'd expressed interest in attending college, but he said he had other plans, big plans, and he needed her help. As soon as she graduated, he quit teaching and started his own company, an idea he'd had for years. He asked her to help him, assist him, basically secretarial work. She said yes, of course, anything for him after all he'd done for her, and their lives just bloomed together from there. She was so busy with work and time sceneing with him that she didn't have time to think about the missed opportunities of friends and college. Her life was busy, and full, because he made it full.

She had never so much as thought of another man.

Until Christian Grey.

Her eyes fluttered closed at just the thought of his name. How could one man be so beautiful? He wore a suit like a top tier runway model. You couldn't see an inch of his body, yet you just knew it was amazing. He had those broad, masculine shoulder, long legs, slim torso, strong chest…. And his face! Holy shit, that face should be illegal. Adonis. He was like her own mental version of the Greek god of beauty. His likeness should be carved into a piece of marble and on display at a museum or something. And those eyes. God, his eyes! Were gray eyes even a thing? She'd never seen it before, but his eyes were like pools of mercury. That should have been her warning. He was dangerous, like mercury. Any exposure could be lethal. It certainly had been for her, she thought absently rubbing her still sore backside. The caning she'd gotten as punishment for being poisoned by those pools of mercury had been particularly harsh. But she'd learned her lesson. She would be steering clear of Mr. Christian Grey. She knew that the reality was, at least until things got settled with the merger, there was a chance of them meeting again whenever Scott had to meet with him. But she now knew better than to look at him or speak to him beyond simple, formal speech. Her devotion, her time, her body, her attraction, she, herself, all of her- it all belong to Scott. He'd earned every piece of her after everything he'd done to help her, after years of being the only person she truly trusted in this world. She owed him everything, and gave him everything, and would continue to do so because he was a good man, and a good Dom, and as his submissive, giving herself to him is she was meant to do.