Christian
The bedroom is a mess, the bed is stripped of sheets, the covers and pillows gathered in a messy pile. What in the world is going on? My first thought is that that someone's been here, searching for something, but soon I realize that it more likely that the sheets are being changed. I try to remember if I've ever been at home when Mrs. Jones changes the bed linen? I don't think I have, but then again I'm usually never home daytime, nevertheless I'm sure she wouldn't do it when we have a guest. Speaking of guests, where's Ana? She wasn't at the kitchen when I passed it, maybe she left already? I hope I didn't miss her. I look around to see if any of her stuff is still here; I'm relieved when I notice that her bag is still on the floor, so she hasn't left yet. I peek outside the bedroom door and see her coming from the laundry room. What is she doing in the laundry room? She seems surprised to see me, but then again I was supposed to be at the office. I take her hand in mine and kiss it as I remind her of Mrs. Jones, who she should ask if she needed anything laundered. Baby, if you want, you don't have to lift a finger to do anything when you are here. Ana looks at me, I feel her blue eyes piercing my soul; she's determined that she couldn't let anyone else wash the sheets. I get the feeling that she's trying to make a point; but my mind is blank, what's the big deal with washing sheets?
I feel stupid, a totally unfamiliar feeling for me, not understanding the whole issue with the sheets until she told me there was blood on them - of course that's it. She was a virgin. I get that she's not comfortable fanning the evidence around, and I do understand her. I hold her in my arms, look at her, this beautiful woman who has caught me in her spell, leaving me drowning in those deep blue eyes. Although the thought of me being the first man inside her, where no man has gone before, makes me feel excited; I can't understand is how the hell she has managed to keep her virginity so far, she's gorgeous, there must have been dozens of boys running after her during the years... I'm one lucky son of a bitch, as she gave herself to me. Well, you better not fuck this up then. I feel her body tensing up in my arms; I hold her close, hoping my touch will relax her, as her touch relaxes me. The look in her eyes has changed, she looks almost horrified so I ask "What's wrong?" suddenly having a stone in my stomach. She stumbles in her answer, not finding the words she wants to say.
"How many women have you had in your bed?" she finally asks, her expression totally unreadable, like she's shut all the blinds, not letting anyone see inside. I know that pose too well, I've mastered it during the years, the totally unreadable expression I have worn in countless meetings, not to even mention the times I've shut out my whole family from seeing my true emotions. I understand it's to protect herself from anyone getting too close, but baby, I would never hurt you, ever… I feel her spirit leaving mine and it gives me chills; Ana please, stay with me. Oh hell, here goes "None" I say quietly, knowing I'm basically avoiding her question, but telling the truth at the same time. I see the disbelief in her eyes. "None? You were a virgin also?" I take a deep breath before I continue. "No" She looks at me totally confused, her confusion mixed with a spark of anger; she doesn't believe me. Oh lord, I might have to tell her. "You were not a virgin, but I was the first you slept with? How? Doesn't add up you know" "I know… You were the first woman in my bed, ever. I've had sex before though…. that's a part of the long story" I say resigned. She looks up, clearly it takes a moment before she connects the dots. "The story as in the reason you don't like to be touched?" I just nod, holding on to her a bit tighter; I need to feel her, now being so far away from any comfortable subject for conversation, making myself vulnerable, baring my soul to her. "Could you tell me?" she asks, her whole body begging for answers. "I'm not sure… It's something I have barely told my family… But I need you to know" I want you to be with me, to know me from the inside and out "it's just difficult to tell."
I feel her coming back to me; the distance I felt between our souls just a moment ago, gone. The spark of anger in her eyes transformed to worry. I can breathe more freely again, maybe I should just tell her now? I sit on the bed and she sits next to me, I grab her hand, I need to feel her, to sense her reaction to the words I'm about to say. I sigh heavily and close my eyes trying to find the right words. "I didn't have a normal childhood, you know I was adopted right?" I look at her and she just nods, holding my hand while stroking it gently. "My birth-mother ODd when I was four" I feel her grip on my hand tightening "I'm sorry" "No, don't be. That was the best thing that happened to me" Oh shit that sounds bad "Of course I didn't see it like that then, but later in life I understood it. She was an addict, crack was her fix, that's what I've been told, anyway." Breathe Grey, you started it, now finish it.
"She used to sell herself to get money for drugs, and as you can guess, the men coming to the apartment were not happy to find a kid there. I usually hid, but many times I was beaten, and there was one man who…" Fuck, I can't do this… I feel the whole room warping around me until I'm huddled in the corner of a dimly lighted room, looking at my mother lying on the bed, passed out or sleeping, I don't know which. There's a large man in the room, his huge frame casting a shadow on the floor. He smells like cigarettes, and his eyes glow like hot coal in the dark. I try to hide behind the couch, as the man scares me to death. I don't say a thing – I just hope he will not see me, I close my eyes trying to make myself invisible. My foot makes impact with the coffee table next to the couch and something drops to the floor. The fear is now consuming me totally. The man grabs my arm "Didn't she get rid of you, you piece of shit" he growls at me, blowing smoke in my face. He pulls me from behind the couch "Nosy little bastard, didn't I tell you, if you see me here, you burn" he says sounding like the devil himself. I'm just shaking my head – I did not watch you, I didn't see you, I didn't, didn't, didn't. He's not letting me go, I feel his grip on me as the smell of my burning flesh is seeping its way into my mind, the blinding pain consuming all senses.
"It's all right baby. Christian, please, come back to me" I suddenly hear Ana's voice, it's like the sound an angel in the middle of my own personal hell. As the memory subsides I realize she's holding me, standing in between my legs, pressing my head against her chest, stroking my hair gently. I wrap my arms around her waist, I never want to let go of her, breathe in her scent and wait for my heartbeat to calm down. "He grabbed me..." I continue "Shh baby, it's alright you don't have to tell me" she says still stroking me. I look at her "Yes, I have to, then you know who I am, and you can decide..." if I'm worthy of you "… he grabbed me, as I was hiding and he had said if I ever saw him I'd get burnt. I tried hiding from him and all the men who came over, but he found me... He always found me... and I..." I push her away from me, stand up, unbutton my shirt and take it off. Baring myself to her, I close my eyes, as I can't watch her looking at me, not like this, I don't want to see her pity or disgust... I flinch as I feel her hand on my bare chest, my heart racing with the adrenaline rushing in my veins. She's gently moving her fingertips over my skin, stopping for brief moments on the scars on my skin. I feel the breath sucked out of me by each scar, until she reaches the last scar on my abdomen; I open my eyes and my world stops at the sight of her. The pain in her eyes, a tear running down her cheek. I brush the teardrop away with my thumb, as I gently cup her face. "Hey… don't cry please, it's all in the past…" She presses her lips against my hand, and closes her eyes. "I had no idea… good god Christian, did they ever catch him?" I just shake my head no. "There were too many people involved with my mother, and I was a child – she was dead, there were no witnesses… It doesn't matter anymore… That's what happened to me, it can't be changed".
Anastasia
He's had sex but he hasn't slept with anyone, what the hell does that mean? "That's a part of the long story" he says and his words on the pier come back to me, it's the story of why he doesn't want to be touched. The anger I felt just a second ago, vanishes as I realize that his issues with touching has something to do with the strange answer to my question? He's slept with none, but he has had sex - it might have, god knows my issues are the reason to why I'm a virgin, no, was a virgin. Would he tell me now? I desperately want to know, I want know what pushes his buttons, what makes him tick. I want know him, to know his history whatever it might be. It couldn't be worse than mine anyway. He holds me tightly, the warmth of his body reaching the depths of my soul. He says it's difficult to tell, I'm hoping he will find it in him to tell me, but I do realize he might not.
I sit next to him and he starts to talk, holding on to my hand like it's his only lifeline, I stroke it gently to relax him, as well as myself. I knew he was adopted, but I didn't know anything about his life prior to the adoption. His birth-mother overdosed he tells me, oh my poor baby, and my heart aches thinking of Christian as a little boy missing his mom. "It was the best thing that happened to me" he says, and I can't believe my ears, how could it be? It's like he realized what he just said as he explains that he understood it later. It still doesn't make sense but I don't say anything, it seems to be painful enough to talk about it without me questioning him. She sold herself to get drugs and the men visiting used to beat him. I close my eyes, take a deep breath to calm the ache in my chest. The image of a little boy abused and scared making my heart break. Oh boy, was I wrong thinking that it couldn't be worse than my story. I see the anguish on Christian's face the pain from tearing open the scars to tell me about himself is causing it. I can't make him do this, it's too difficult for him, hell - it's too difficult for me.
I realize he has gone totally quiet, I feel his body shivering like he's freezing; his heart is beating so hard it has to hurt. Suddenly it dawns on me that he's stuck inside that memory. Oh fuck, how do I bring him back, how do I snap him out of it. "Christian" I say, my voice trembling, there's no response, not even a hint of a reaction to prove that he heard me. I grab his shoulder and shake him gently, still nothing. What if I can't get him out of it? Oh baby, please come back to me. I stand up, place myself between his legs and hug him against my chest stroking his hair. "It's all right baby" I try to soothe him "Christian please, come back to me" I feel the shivers weakening as his breathing evens. He looks at me and then wraps his arms around me, breathing deeply. I feel his warm breath on my chest, but in this moment there's no sexual tension between us, just us two trying to get past the horrible memories brought back to life.
Christian continues his story, but I just shush him, I don't need to know; he insist telling me anyway. I guess he's past the point of no return so I don't fight him. It gets worse, I didn't think it could, but it does. There was a man, who caught him and burnt him? What kind of a monster would do that? It was like an evil game of hide and seek for fucks sake. Christian pushes me away from him, oh no baby, don't do it, please let me be near you, let me hold you, protect you from the monsters. I don't say anything because I see him opening the buttons of his shirt. He takes it off and closes his eyes. Standing in front of me with his eyes closed, his upper body exposed in all its glory. First I'm in awe of his physique, he clearly works out, but my focus is soon drawn to small round scars around his chest. Seven in all. The sight of them makes me feel sick to my stomach, my heart bleeding for him as I realize it has to have been cigarettes. I brush the hair on his chest with my fingers, run my fingers over his skin, stopping briefly on each scar, trying to absorb his pain. Feeling it with every fiber of my being, I don't even realize the teardrop running down my cheek before Christian wipes it off with his thumb, gently cupping my face. I press a kiss in his hand. He tells me not to cry. How could I not cry? My heart brakes because of what he's been through. It's all in the past he tells me. But the man who did it was never found, the knowledge of that makes me feel furious and helpless and all the feelings in between at the same time. Life really is unfair.
Christian
"Do you want me to continue?" Her eyes widen with shock. "There's more?" I just say, still feeling her hand on my chest. "Yes… The childhood trauma made me afraid of people, so I didn't allow anyone to touch me, even Grace and Carrick couldn't touch me. Gradually I learned to trust them and with time I let them be near me… But when I was a teenager my life begun spiraling out of control, I got into fights, drinking, and all kinds of stupidity." I see a frown forming on her face. "Drugs?" "Hell no, if nothing else good came from my childhood it's the fact that I'm totally against drugs, even at GEH I have a zero tolerance policy… Anyway… There was this woman who stopped my destructive behavior, and she touched me in a way I found acceptable..." She's looking at me, willing me to continue, oh fuck, this is hard. "Hell, I was a teenager, hormones raging and all that shit..." I feel the confusion radiating off her, just do it Grey, and get it over with. "She made me her submissive" "Submissive?" Oh lord, do I have to explain the whole BDSM thing to her… "It's a BDSM thing…" Ana just nods, I don't know if she knows what it is, but at this moment I don't even care; I just want the words out of my system. "She was the Domme and I was the sub, or so she led me to believe... And she had sex with me" I add almost silently. "How old were you?" "Fifteen" I hear her gasp for air before she asks "How old was she?" "Thirty-five". Silence fills the room, I swear I can hear my heartbeat, telling her makes my whole body tense, I hope I did the right thing here. I haven't told everything to anyone before with the exception of my parents and my therapist.
Anastasia
Holy shit, he was molested as a teenager! He didn't say the exact words, but he doesn't have to, sex between a fifteen year old boy and a thirty five year old woman says it all. I feel the room spinning, and I have to sit down before I'll faint. I lean against the bed, holding my head with my hands. Christian sits down beside me, but he doesn't say anything. Never ever did I expect that his life had been so fucked up; my life has been like a dance on roses compared to his, and here I was thinking I had it bad. But I've won the god damned lottery compared to Christian. He said he was her submissive, or so he thought? What the hell does that mean? It's a BDSM thing, he said. That has something to do with hard sex, whips, humiliation and shit like that, doesn't it? But what does he mean; she made him his submissive? It should be voluntary, shouldn't it? But can it be; between an adult and a teenager? Was she a pedophile? The list of questions is just getting longer, but I don't know if he can manage telling me anything more, hell, I don't know if I can manage knowing more. He looks totally exhausted, the emotions he has been through in the last hour clearly taking its toll.
"I didn't think she was a pedophile" Christian says after a moments silence sitting beside each other on the floor by the bed; he must have read my mind. "She was" I just say, you can try to explain it however you want but an adult having sex with a child is a pedophile to me. Christian sighs before he says "Yes, I know that now, but then I thought she cared about me, I thought she wanted to help me overcome my issues, I thought it was what I needed." I look at him, he looks so broken sitting there on the floor, his eyes screwed shut, pushing his fingers through his hair. "When I became older I researched the BDSM lifestyle – as I thought she had introduced me to it – and realized that she wasn't a Domme, well at least not a good one." I put my hand on his knee, as to say I'm here with you, willing him to continue.
"My submission was more like slavery, I had no way of stopping her." I take a deep breath, the pain in my chest starting to spread again, the thought of Christian helpless is heartbreaking. He just continues, it's like the words are burning him, and he just wants to get it all out. "Submissives always have to have a way to stop the dominant, if it gets too rough or uncomfortable… I had none… She used me as she saw fit, but with time I started to feel more like a slave, not having any choice but to do as she said…" Christian's voice trails off… and again we sit in silence until I break it. "Why didn't you tell someone?" "I didn't want anyone to know, and besides she had me between a rock and a hard place; as a hormonal teenager I craved for the sex, but when it started to feel wrong there was nothing I could do."
I see his jaw tightening, his eyes turning darker by every word he utters. "She threatened to tell my mother" Isn't that a good thing? She would have been exposed. "She was bluffing though, she wouldn't have told my mother –being friends with her allowed her to keep me on a short leach, no pun intended. She knew I could never let Grace know, I couldn't do that to her, I had to protect her from what was going on" Wait a minute, did I get that right? "She's a friend of your mother's?" This is fucking unbelievable, it's like when you think it can't get any worse, it does. "She was." "Isn't anymore?" Well I would hope not! "No, Elena…" "Elena?" "Her name is Elena" Christian just says his eyes looking into the void and continues "…Anyway, she was caught with another boy and I've gradually understood that I wasn't special, I never was, I was just one horny teenager among others." The color of his eyes is like the thundercloud before lightning strikes as he tells me this. He wanted to be special, that's what he said, but doesn't he see that he is special?
"And your mother doesn't know anything about this?" Grace will go berserk finding out about this, my god, her friend and her son. "Oh, she knows now, but she didn't know before though. I told her everything after Elena was arrested…" "She's in jail?" I ask and Christian just nods his answer. Well thank the lord for that! At least one of Christian's monsters is behind bars. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, trying to collect my thoughts after all that Christian's told me. "After I understood what was going on I haven't been able to let anyone touch me. Even the handshakes at the meetings make me want to just run out screaming – but I don't. I haven't let anyone touch me for a long time" I feel the butterflies take off as I know what he will say "Until I met you, Ana, you heal me, you make me feel alive again."