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Chapter 14
Here comes the epic inquisition...
I keep my back to Kate while slipping into my baggy PJ bottoms. "It's really not as bad as it looks," I tell her anxiously. "It's really nothing to be concerned about anyway."
"Nothing to be concerned about?" She repeats dubiously. "Ana, how can I not be concerned? I'm sorry if its silly to you, but pardon me for getting worried if my friend comes home with mysterious bruises on her ass."
"Consensual. They are consensual bruises on my ass, Kate."
"What? How can you possibly consent to getting bruised? I don't get it, Ana. I really don't."
I sigh loudly, turning to face her. She's just standing there, hands on her hips, shaking her head in bewilderment. "You wouldn't understand."
"Yeah, that's right. I don't understand."
"I met someone," I lie, the first thing I can think of. "We meet after work. It's why I've been home later than usual."
"You met someone?" She stares at me, incredulous. I don't know whether she believes me, but there is no way in hell that I could ever tell her the truth about what has been happening lately between me and Christian Grey, my boss. "Then why wouldn't you tell me? We usually tell each other everything?"
"Well, clearly not everything, Kate. I just... I didn't want to tell you. And honestly, no offense, but... its really none of your business. It's something... private." I can tell I have offended her, because she scoffs loudly. I try to look apologetic. "I'm sorry and yeah, I know friends are supposed to tell each other things. But on this, I don't want to. Surely you can respect that, just this once?"
"Okay, but... so your letting some guy beat you up and give you bruises? You expect me to be okay with that?"
I growl out loud in frustration, slapping my thighs with two fists. "It isn't really about the bruises, Kate. I'm not letting him beat me up in a violent sort of way, I just let him... spank me." I have to look down at the floor, avoiding her eyes. A glow of heat rushes over me. "I know it sounds weird but its what I'm into. Well, its what I've discovered that I am into. And he's into it just as much. It's a... sexual exploration thing."
"Okay? So you, um, like getting spanked?" She says the question with drawn out slowness. I can tell she is even a little disturbed.
"Yes." I never thought I would be having this conversation with Kate ever, and its embarrassing. But at least I am getting it completely off my chest so she will stop bothering me. "I do enjoy getting spanked. It's just what we do; We meet up and we do... stuff. Harmless stuff like that. Consensual stuff."
"Okay." There's a long moment of silence on her end. When I finally muster up the courage to look at her, Kate looks weirded-out. A part of me knew she would be. "Okay," she repeats again in confusion. "Well, so long as you aren't getting hurt then..." She shrugs, turning back towards the door. "Whatever. I'm sorry I asked."
"Thank you," I mutter once she leaves, closing my door fully to change out of my blouse.
God, how embarrassing. I know now that Kate and I will never be the same again. Our time together in the apartment now is going to be flat-out awkward. But when I head out into the kitchen, I realize I'm wrong. Kate acts normal and as though what I have just admitted to her hadn't happened.
At least that's something, but I still feel awkward confessing my newly found kinkiness to her, even if she doesn't.
By the end of the day arrives and everyone packs up their things, I do the same, slowly pushing in my chair, pretending to follow everyone out. This time, I wait about ten minutes to make sure for certain that no one is going to enter the building and catch me out like his father had yesterday afternoon which was mortifying, to say the least.
Once I know for sure that the coast is clear and that its safe, I remove the riding crop out from its hiding place under the pieces of paper in my desk drawer, placing it against the keyboard while shuffling out of my cardigan.
I drape it over the back of my pushed-in chair, focusing on breathing steadily. Just like yesterday, the anticipation has left me feeling on pins and needles for this time to arrive; my stomach coiled in a constant knot. Now that its here, I don't want to get my hopes up too much in case something happens again and we have to call it off suddenly.
But everything seems to look as though it is going to go in our favor this afternoon.
Placing the long crop between my teeth, I clench to get a tight grip before getting to my knees, starting the crawl. I had to wear black stockings this morning underneath my skirt because I had gross carpet burn on my knees already. It stings and feels tender every knee forward that I take, but its well worth it, that little bit of pain.
Fortunately, this time, I make it to his office door without any interruptions.
I glance up, expecting the door to magically come open as he lets me in. Only he doesn't. Kneeling up on my knees, I stretch my arm, managing to grab the door handle. It's awkward and difficult, but eventually I get it open, headbutting it to push it wide enough to crawl in.
I lift my head again and, there he is, waiting, standing near his desk, his hands flinging his tie off from around his collar.
He says not a word as he strides past me briskly, shutting the door to his office securely on us. I sense him standing behind me as I crawl closer to his desk, unsure of what to do with myself. I stop, remaining on all my fours, my back hunched. His instructions hadn't been much; Just to put the riding crop in my mouth and crawl to his office. So now what?
I can hardly fight the temptation to glance behind my shoulder to be sure of what he is doing behind me, but I try with all my might, forcing myself to stare ahead. Then I hear his shoes rustle against the carpet as he steps closer to where I am. Then he's standing in front of me.
"I'm going to blindfold you, Miss Steele. Is that all right with you?"
Blindfold me? I go to answer, then realize I can't. The riding crop is still wedged in my mouth, making it impossible.
"Nod your head yes. If not, shake your head no."
I nod my head once, then he moves closer, slipping his tie over my head. Then it covers my eyes, and I'm blinded by the soft cloth.
"Remove the riding crop now," Christian commands gently, and I push it out of my mouth with my tongue. I hear it hit the floor, and another movement as his clothes rustle. "Stay where you are, exactly as you are. Don't move."
Okay. Don't move. "But what am I supposed to-" I start to whisper. The breath gets stuck in my throat when suddenly his fingers have slipped beneath both sides of my stockings. He yanks them down to my knees, as well as my skirt, and I know my backside is completely exposed to him when I feel the air on it.
I swallow loudly, listening carefully. I have no idea what he is doing. All I know, is that I can hear absolutely nothing. Everything is dead silent, my vision black from his tie covering it. I feel like my heart is beating madly in excitement, in anticipation to feel the first lash at last. What is he doing? When is he going to start using the riding crop so I can experience it?
"Firstly, we are going to need to use safe words." His voice comes from straight behind me, but I have no idea what he is doing. Or is he just ogling my bruised ass?
"Green?" I suggest, startled by how different my voice sounds. I sound so unlike myself, as if my voice is coming from another person, not actually me. "Green can mean yes, keep continuing. Red can mean to stop, it's enough."
"Okay. Every time I lash you, I want you to say which it is afterwards. Green to keep going or red. Is that understood, Miss Steele?" God, his commanding voice alone is very nearly enough to drive me over the edge.
"Yes, Sir. I understand."
"Good." Another annoying minute of silence passes between us, where I just remain there, on my knees and hands, feeling sort of idiotic. "I am doing this because of your bad behavior, Anastasia. Is that clear?"
Jesus. Why doesn't he just get on with it already instead of prolonging it?
It happens, just as suddenly. A sudden thwack as it connects with my left cheek, a stinging that isn't bad at all. It definitely feels like a pain I could handle plenty more of.
"Green," I say.
He hits me with the tip of the riding crop again, this time on my right butt cheek. Like my body has a mind of its own, my back arches, my arms shaking as I steady myself to keep upright.
"Green times a billion."
He pauses for a moment behind me, I think. I can hear his breathing change; It goes ragged, unsteady. This is turning him on already; I can tell.
"I want you pink," he says behind me, his voice hoarser, strained. "I want you completely pink, Miss Steele. It's what you deserve for your insolent, smart-mouth behavior." And its what I want, too.
Maybe I really am some type of masochist, but I find the sharp stings of pain thrilling. Instead of feeling anxious or stressed or worried, I can let go, focusing on nothing else and forgetting all my troubles, pushing them aside just to feel this one, shooting sensation over and over.
It goes on, again and again. Eight times, still green. The pain has intensified though; My backside is now tingling and feeling filled with heat in various places that he has hit me in. Eight times more and I am sure he has gotten his wish, in me being pink. My backside is now throbbing dully and the next one he thwacks my way has my eyes smarting and watering up. I don't think I can keep going on. I feel like I'm going to collapse off my arms and knees to the ground, I'm that exhausted and drained.
"Red," I cry out finally, unable to take anymore.
I wait patiently while he leans down to remove the tie from my eyes and I blink heavily, suppressing the impulse to sit back on my hind legs. Considering the way my ass is aching, I better not apply any weight on it just yet.
When I turn my head, glancing towards him, I see the thin sheen of sweat beading on his forehead and his upper lip as he pants heavily. He walks around his desk, sitting the riding crop down while taking something out of his bottom drawer. It's a white container, but I have no idea what he intends to use it for. He opens it, dipping his fingers in, getting a big glump of something. He carries it towards me, cautious not to spill any on the carpet. For some reason, it strikes me as hilarious and before I know it, breathless laughter escapes from my mouth uncontrollably.
"Is that butter?"
He gives me a strange look, his eyebrows raised. "Of course it isn't butter, Anastasia." Amusement glistens in his eyes. "But it will help."
A gasp escapes me when he suddenly glides that something over my bottom, something thick and cold and sticky. With care, he slathers it over my skin with gentle fingers. I'm still bare to him, my front and my back, yet I can hardly seem to care. All that pain has erased any self-conscious feelings out of me whatsoever.
"It's cream. It will help soothe it."
"Soothe it, my ass," I grumble out, when it only just seems to make it sting even worse.
"Here, let me help you up." This is the part I unconsciously dread; I know it is going to hurt, yet him coming in front of me, crouching down while extending his arms out to me gives me courage. I cling to his forearms, gripping tight with my hands, and he helps lift me up. Just as I predicted, it stings and aches even worse. "How was that for you?" he asks with concern, his gray eyes inspecting my face carefully. I still haven't let him go, but he doesn't seem to mind me clinging on.
"It was... good. Have to say, I think I prefer a good, old hand spanking though."
He presses his lips together, fighting a smile, I think. "Then that's good to know. We'll stick with the hand next time."
"It just feels more... intimate," I say before I can stop myself. "A warm hand, rather than a cold, leathery riding crop." Belatedly, I realize my private parts are practically bared to him. All he would have to do is glance down between my legs. I should really pull my underwear, stockings and skirt back up, make myself modest. Yet, for some reason, I find I can't find the energy to. I should cover myself with my hand at the very least, yet I can't seem to let his arms go.
"What are you doing tomorrow night?" he asks me with interest. I have no idea why he is bothering to ask or why he even wants to know.
"What?" I blab out in confusion.
"Tomorrow night. Are you doing anything?"
"Not that I know of," I answer slowly. "Why?"
"Because how would you like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow?" Finally, with that startling question, I gain enough strength to move my hands away from him. Deliberately avoiding his gaze, I reach down, pulling up my underwear slowly. It rubs against my sore ass, but I guess there isn't anything I can do about it. "After work, of course?"
Okay, so he's asking me out to dinner? It makes me feel thoroughly confused. Didn't he say he wanted this as strictly a fun office thing? Why say one thing, then do another? It doesn't make any sense. "Um, I... I thought you just wanted to keep this as strictly between office hours?"
When I glance up at Christian again questioning, I notice he is staring at me, somewhat puzzled. "Is that what you want, Miss Steele? To keep this strictly during office hours?"
God, why does he have to put me on the spot like that? Of course I don't want that. I would like to get to know him, to do... more than just this. But he made it perfectly clear on me otherwise that night when he had taken me home.
"Yes, that's what I think we should do," I lie, hoping to sound convincing. "I mean, your my boss. It would be best if we keep this in your office only, right? Keep it something... casual and not let ourselves get too attached? Things could go so badly if things did go any further. Like all my colleagues would be thinking you are giving me special preference, all that kind of stuff."
Christian glances away from me, raking his fingers through his hair. Why do I get the feeling that I have said the wrong thing? After a moment, he meets my gaze again, nodding once, a smile that seems forced on his mouth. "Of course, that's just only what I meant, Miss Steele." He clears his throat loudly. "I just wanted to make sure you knew that."
Sorry if this was a disappointing chapter. I've been ill with the flu and have had trouble writing and concentrating properly. So I'm sorry!