March 9, 2012
"You can't postpone the show, Annie. If anything you should be using it as a reason to get out of bed in the morning."
"I get out of bed," Ana retorted as Becca kicked her feet up on the coffee table and handed out Starbucks to Kate and Jose.
"To go to work. Then you're right back in it the minute you get home and on the weekends you don't even leave your room."
"It's been a week, Bec, give me a break will you?" Ana lifted the lid of her cup and blew, the swirls of steam soothing in an otherwise horrible week.
"The cameras are down in the hallway," Kate told her in between bites of her Danish. "I hadn't noticed but Luke told me two nights ago." She took a sip and sat back. "He moved out too. Not that there was much in his apartment, just the basics but Christian moved him out set him up at some complex clear across town where a few other of his on call guys live."
"On call guys?" Jose asked.
"His pilots, his ship captain and his wife, two other CPO's who only work when Christian is international. Speaking of which," Kate began carefully, "Luke mentioned having to go to Russia later this month for work."
Ana's stomach dropped out at the mention of Christian's plans. Of course his life would go on and work would continue but hearing about his activities had this strange way of satisfying her curiosity and igniting her desperation.
"Does he say anything else?" Jose asked.
Kate shrugged and gave Becca a wave as she made her way out the door. "Not really. I don't think Christian knows we're hooking up and even if he did, it's not like Luke's going to risk his job by gossiping."
At that Ana laughed. "He knows. Believe me. He knows everything about everyone. It's how he controls you."
"Well lover boy can try to control me all he wants but it's not going to happen. Besides, there's not much he could tell me anyway since Luke's still employed by him but he's not actually interacting with him."
"Why not?" Ana asked hoping for another glimpse into Christian's day to day.
"Nothing to do. Christian goes to work, locks himself in his office, spars with some fighter dude and then goes back to his brother's house and doesn't leave all night." She looked at Ana and gave her a wink. "Kinda like you minus the fighting."
"Well after watching you sad over him for a week I for one am glad he's miserable." Becca leaned down to kiss Ana goodbye and tucked the blanket tighter around her ankles like a mother. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, we're pulling an all-night recording session while we've got the lead bassist with us. I made some turkey soup so you all wouldn't starve so help yourself."
"Are you, Annie? Glad he's miserable I mean?" Jose's voice was soft as if he were afraid to upset her further.
"No. I mean, I don't want him out partying and living it up while I'm over here trying to remember to shower everyday but I don't want him suffering either." She picked at the chenille throw draping her legs and sighed. "I have come to the conclusion that love is the best and worst thing in the world."
"Yes it is," her friends agreed.
"You ready to start talking to a counselor? The one I told you about in Kirkland is really good and even though it's a hike to get there I think she'd be a really great fit for you." Kate moved to the sofa so she could brush the tangled strands of brunette hair that Ana had ceased to care about. "You've given yourself two weeks to mope but you need to do something before this becomes the norm."
"Kate's right," Jose offered apologetically. "You're going to fall further into this pit and it's just going to be harder to dig out." Looking at Kate he furrowed his brow and stood to go. "The lady in Kirkland, is she the one who specializes in sexual trauma?"
"Yup. And she's also in the BDSM lifestyle network so she knows both ends of your spectrum. It may help with perspective."
"How the hell do you know that?" Ana asked in surprise. "There are therapists who specialize in BDSM?"
"One, I know it because it's my job to know everything. And two, there are therapists who specialize in everything! I have an associate who eats glue and guess what? She sees a shrink who deals with people with weird eating disorders. I'm telling you, everyone can find help with anything."
"And on that note, I'm leaving to taste another round of wedding cakes. Is there a therapist for that? Wedding craziness?" Jose grunted as he lifted the stack of photos he'd brought over for the girls opinion on and flung open the door. "October cannot get here soon enough."
"You're doing cake tastings in March for a wedding in October?" Ana asked with a laugh.
"Yup. Like I said, we need a wedding therapist."
Once Jose had left and the tea had gone cold Kate began to braid Ana's hair, the lulling gentleness a physical reminder of what she was missing.
"I'm ready to see her, Kate. I don't want to live like this. I feel like I'm just surviving. Like each breath needs to be thought about or I'm just going to forget to do it because it hurts just to exist."
"Do you want talk about what happened? I mean, I know the basics but if you want to get it out I'm happy to listen but only if you want to."
Ana shrugged and relaxed back as Kate began to untwist the braid. It took her a long time to recount the details; from her mom's admission in the bathroom to the way Taylor had let her leave so easily but when she was finished she felt a hundred pounds lighter. Secrets, she had learned, were a heavy burden to bear.
Kate contemplated it all and thought long and hard about what she'd just been told as she brushed out the tangles. "I thought you weren't into gagging?"
"It was the first time he'd done it but back at our renegotiation in January that was one thing I moved to a soft limit."
"Humor me but how can you safe word with a gag in?"
Ana's stomach sunk like lead. Safe word. How could she not have thought about it? Her first instinct was to call Christian and talk to him about it but the pit in her stomach was a reminder that running to the phone to speak with him was no longer a viable option.
"Normally," she started, her heart hammering out in her chest, "there is a signal you agree on beforehand. A hand wave or a shake of the head or some sort of tapping motion but since we'd never used a gag before, we'd never even discussed it." So many mistakes. "But to be honest, I'm not sure I would have remembered to do it anyway. I was so…shocked and taken aback by his anger and the way he was yelling. I…I like to think that he'd have stopped if I'd had done something but…we were both so caught off guard."
"I can understand that. Sometimes things go off the rails in the heat of passionate moments. I've had a few things happen that I regret after the fact."
"Yeah but this was borderline scary."
"I'm not going to pretend that I like the whole BDSM thing and I'm not going to tell you I understand it when clearly I don't, but I will say that it must mean something that the minute he actually hurt you is the minute he snapped out of it." Kate flopped onto the armchair and took out her phone to call the therapist. Better book it now before she backs out.
"He's messed up from his childhood." Ana shifted uncomfortably. Despite the fact that he'd dishonored their NDA by bringing in his employees to spy on her, she still felt protective over his secrets. "Some of the things that were done to him shaped him into this uber control freak."
"Whatever, Ana. Anyone can use excuses for their behavior and you are no different. But if he can claim his behavior is because of how messed up his early years were, then so can you. So his argument holds very little water. At some point, you can't blame your past for your failures. It's called becoming an adult."
"True," Ana whispered to herself. Why did he get a free pass on his addiction to power and control? Because of the abuses he suffered at the hands of others? Well that's bull shit.
"Here." Kate handed her the phone. "Make the appointment. I'll take you if you want."
Taking the phone Ana hit the green dial button and shook her head. "Thanks but I'm want to do this part on my own."
March 12, 2012
His knuckles were cracked, his shoulders were burning and his knees were about to give out but until he could be assured of exhaustion, Christian wasn't going to end the fight.
"Your brother needs a break," Taylor stated flatly from the sidelines. Every day for ten days he'd stood in this exact same spot as The Boss went round after round with Bastille. Work, Flynn, run, Bastille, dinner and more work.
"He's got to get out this frustration somewhere, T. Nothing's going right at GEH, Flynn gets him all riled up and then he has to sleep alone when all he wants is to not. Besides, look at him! I've never seen him so cut!"
"He can't keep this up much longer no matter how good a shape he's in. He needs a break."
Elliot shrugged and pulled on the gloves he knew he'd need once Bastille tapped out. It had been a long ten days and while Christian's harsh attitude was tough to take on a normal day, the detached melancholy he'd blanketed himself in over the last few days was harder to deal with. "He needs a good fuck."
Taylor barked out an uncommon laugh and crossed his arms over his chest. "Unless you can convince Ms. Steele to offer up her services you're shit out of luck on that front."
"Nah, give it a few more weeks and then we'll take him out, get him piss drunk and drop him off at that club he goes to." Such a simple solution but one even Elliot Grey knew wasn't going to work. "He can fight and argue and talk all he wants but sometimes a man just need to use his dick to remember he's a man."
"You're an idiot, E." Taylor chuckled and handed The Boss a bottle of water while Bastille dried his face off.
"What's he saying?" Christian was out of breath and sweaty as hell but nowhere near finished. Not when he was still so pissed at the way Flynn kept holding his feet to the fire for two hours every damn day. And now that Ana had recruited a real estate agent and was going to start looking for a house? Hell he had at least another hour in him if not more.
"I was just telling Jason here that all this is well and good and all but what you really need is to pound some pussy."
And shit even Christian couldn't help the tingle that skated across his balls at the mention of sex. Maybe tonight he'd finally rub one out.
"Me?" Christian guffawed. "You're the one who keeps leaving the TV on the Playboy channel." Christian flicked sweat at Elliot's head and turned to walk back to the mat.
"Hard to bring chicks home when my little brother is moping around at all hours of the night," he joked back.
"You're full of it. I heard you with that Simone girl the other night." Christian ducked just as Bastille's glove reached out, Elliot's laughter somehow a little healing even in this misery he'd imposed upon himself. "Tap in, E. I want to knock you around a bit."
Three hours later, after a five mile run and a dinner of steak and potatoes that Gail had brought over along with a few changes of clothes, Christian found himself awake as ever. No amount of running or punching or kicking was ever enough to allow him to escape the demons he was left to battle with every night. They rushed at him like moths to a flame the second he was alone with his thoughts. Not worthy, unwanted, incompetent, rejected, alone. Over and over he saw the brown leather belt mar that perfect skin and over and over his stomach rolled with disgust. His palms felt the damp blindfold where she'd cried and his ears rung with the words he'd tossed out like bombs.
What was she doing? What was she thinking about? Was it him? Dominick? Freedom from them both? Was she still crying? Still hurting? Still confused?
Was she thinking of him?
Hoping for him?
Dreaming of him?
At two he gave up the fight, the never ending swirl of fear and loss stopping when he imagined her there with him. His hand was a poor substitute for the petal soft lips of her sex but he envisioned it anyway; the way her hair spread wild on the pillow beneath her. The way she bit her lip and gripped his arms as he readied himself. The way she gasped with that first thrust, her perfect warmth enveloping him with a gush of liquid want that begged for his pleasure. He heard every pant, every rushed out breath and moan of delight. "Christian," she begged, his palm tightening on its own accord.
He was going to cum already but then the vision would die, the heat he so easily imagined was hers would recede and he'd be alone again. For a few seconds he thought he could hold off but then she whispered "I love you," and the wash of his own seed spilled over his hands as the cry of her name spilled out of his lips.
"You're unusually subdued today, Christian," Flynn started after seven minutes of total silence. "Did something happen overnight to upset you?"
Grey shrugged and leaned his head back. "I thought of Ana last night."
John's brows knit in question. "Don't you think of her all the time?"
"Every second of the day it seems. But last night it was how we used to be. In bed."
Ah. His libido is returning. A good sign. "And what kind of sex were you having with Anastasia?"
"Our kind of sex. Intimate, connecting, emotional sex. I'd call it vanilla but it's so much more than that."
"And why is that affecting you so greatly today," Flynn looked at his watch, "18 or so hours later?"
"Because I miss her. And if I'm honest it disgusts me that one day she'll do that with someone else unless I figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do to get her back." His heart leapt to his throat. "If she hasn't already moved on." It was killing him to not have someone posted on her. He could ask Sawyer for information, Taylor said he was screwing the roommate but that just seemed like it would make its way back to Ana and if she knew he was digging, his chances would go from next to nothing to below nothing.
"Well never having met her I can't say for certain but I highly doubt she's warming someone else's bed already." At least I hope not because if Christian finds out she's with someone else, he will never recover.
"I know the likelihood is small but I feel like I'm on a time restriction." In an instant his demeanor changed from passive to demonstrative. Reaching into the bowl of mints he took one, tossed the wrapper on the table and stood up. "So let's get started. No more of this dredging up the past shit we've been doing for almost two weeks. We know why I am the way I am. I want to move forward, get past the consequences of my past and focus on my future. With Ana."
If he'd been a religious man John Flynn would have started praising Jesus right then but as it was, he only pursed his lips to hide his smile and took out his stylus. "Well let's get going then shall we?"
Christian began to pace, hope strumming a low note in his veins. "I realized something that night. You know, the night I lost it."
"What did you realize?"
"I'm not a sadist. All these years I have hated myself because I was told, and believed, that I was a sexual sadist. It's a huge part of my self loathing," he confessed. Shaking his head he continued on, undaunted in his task. "I won't lie, there have been many times I have hurt women in the bedroom. And I'm not talking about the little stuff like spankings. I'm talking whippings and floggings and canings that left marks for days. Now yes, those women wanted it and I doled it out happily but I can't say I got off on it. It was part of the role I played. But with Ana," he stopped to swallow back the regret that always invaded when he remembered, "with Ana I was acting out of anger."
"Passionate anger." If John could soften the blow a bit perhaps Christian could start seeing past that night and start opening up to the fact that the bigger problem was his control outside of the bedroom.
"Yes, passionate anger." His eyes closed as the vision of that red streak across her sweet skin flashed before him. By now the welt would be long gone but how long would he have to live with the disgust? "I did not like hurting her. I hated it in fact. I couldn't even get hard let alone fuck her. And the gag," he swallowed hard again. "The gag was cruel."
"Why did you use it?"
Christian stared out the window at the traffic below and felt a pang of jealousy. Just ordinary men on their way home from work to the women who loved them. They'd have dinner, watch the news, maybe make love. What he wouldn't give to be one of them right now.
"I needed her to stop talking. She wanted to talk but I was so angry I couldn't get past it."
"Do you do that often? Take away Anastasia's ability to communicate when she has something to say that you don't want to hear?"
Leave it to Flynn to get to the heart of it like an arrow to a target. "I tend to distract with sex or manufactured conflict or in this case a literal gag when I don't want to deal with something. I know I do it."
"Do you feel that whatever it is you have to say or whatever it is that you want is more important than what Anastasia has to say?"
"No," Christian answered quickly.
Flynn laid his tablet on his lap and looked at his patient over the rims of his glasses. "Christian. For this transformation to really work, you have to be honest in all things. Lying to me or to yourself will get you nowhere."
"Fine," Christian laughed. Damn this asshole. "I do tend to think that I know better or that my time is more valuable. Sometimes I do know better."
"That does not mean you get to steamroll and ignore someone who is offering you dissent. If you wanted to fill your life with nothing but sycophants you certainly chose the wrong doctor and apparently the wrong girlfriend. Seems to me your brother isn't falling for that either."
"OK, so I need to start valuing what people are saying to me on a more prioritized level even if I believe them to be incorrect."
"You need to start actively listening to people when they're talking to you instead of just taking bits and pieces that you find satisfactory. The entire picture. What is the story within the story and why is that important to them?" For a few seconds they just stared at each other until Flynn raised a brow. "Basically you need to learn how to become a friend and have a friend."
Silence. Two straight minutes of silence. "I'm asking you to start having conversations with people in your everyday life that do not revolve around work or Anastasia. You are to ask about them and tell them about you. Meaningful stuff too, not just what you want for dinner and how abysmal this winter has been."
One nod. That's all he got but it was a good enough start.
"Now please continue on as to how you have come to the conclusion that you are not, in fact, a sadist." As I refrain from standing and doing the 'I told you so' dance.
"Ana was crying and upset and scared and if I were a sadist I would have enjoyed all of that. But I didn't, not at all. It bothered me, the crying. So I covered her eyes." My God. "And even though it was ridiculous to all of the sudden not trust her because her ex-Dom showed up, I didn't. Trust her I mean. So I bound her arms." I'm going to be sick again. "And the gag…"
"We covered the gag."
"Yes. Thank you." Christian took a deep breath and slowly blew it out as he let himself replay the seconds it took for him to retrieve the belt, bend her over and hit her with it. "I couldn't get aroused. Not because I was angry but because her embarrassment, her begging, her pain, her…sadness, god her sadness…it didn't turn me on in the least."
"What did it do?"
"It gutted me," he whispered against the window as his fists dug into the sides of his thighs. "I was hurting us both and I couldn't stop. And then the belt," he rubbed his eyes until he saw bursts of color. "It made me sick to do that. Nothing about it was sexy or stimulating and as long as I live I will never, ever do that again."
"I believe you," John offered graciously. He did believe him because in all the years Grey had been coming to him, his sexual sadism had always been the main point of argument between them and now that that had been put to bed, they could move forward and make some real progress. Today was the first time in seven years that Christian Grey had mentioned wanting to get better. Years of therapy had amounted to nothing more than maintenance but today, today the direction had changed entirely.
"You were right. About the sadism shit. You were right and I should have listened to you."
"Will you listen to me now, Christian?"
"Yes. Because I have to have her in my life, John and if becoming a better man is the way to do that, then that's what I want to do."
March 13, 2012
"It's interesting to me that you correlate your sexual abuse as a child to your need for domination in the bedroom," Dr. Kincaid stated matter of factly. "It's not unusual nor is it the norm but usually it takes months for a new patient to establish the connection."
"Since I've done nothing but think for three weeks now I have a head start. I think when I wake up, I think when I'm teaching, I think as I eat and then I think when I dream. My mind literally never shuts off and it never makes sense."
"Explain please."
Shifting so that she could sit Indian style on the couch Ana pulled her hair into a messy bun and began to pick at her nails. "I left him. Walked out and never looked back. In fact, when he came to see me a two weeks ago I told him to leave and left him again. Yet every day I wait for him to call or text or email and every day I get more and more upset that he hasn't reached out. I'm so screwed up."
Flipping back in her notes Dr. Grace reread her bullet points from their first three hour session a few days before and knitted her brows.
"You told him not to contact you and that that was how he could gain back some of the trust he lost."
"I know," Ana huffed out with exasperation at herself. "And I'm upset because he's actually doing what I asked."
"I don't want to dwell on your relationship with Mr. Grey but I do think it's a good point of reference for the things you feel you need to work on so forgive me this question and understand I'm asking it to provoke thought. In the seven hours we've spent together over the last few days you have consistently vacillated between what you want and even with a degree in psychology I'm often left wondering what it is that you really want. Do you think you operated under the same premise in your last relationship?"
God she hated this woman. And this process. And herself.
"Yes, not often but enough so that there were gray areas in which neither one of us knew how to manage."
"Would you say the same is true for your other sexual relationships?"
"No. Never."
"So then why with Mr. Grey and not any of the other seven?"
"I loved him in a way I didn't with the rest. Everything was clear and concise and the lines didn't blur with anyone else. I mean, Paul wasn't in the lifestyle and of course that's why our sexual compatibility was so off but he was so in love with me that he went along with anything I did without argument. If I wanted one thing one minute and another the next he just flowed with it."
"What you're saying is that before you knew that sexual submission worked for you, you were the one in control of your relationships?"
"Except with my dad, yes."
Dr. Kincaid waved her hand and moved on quickly. "Your dad is an entirely separate issue which we will get to soon but I want to focus on trying to help you figure out what it is you want right now. Tell me about your experiences with other Doms in the context of life outside of sex."
Ana shrugged and peeled the last bit of nail polish off her thumb. "There was no real experiences outside of sex. I mean, they were all just my Dominant, nothing else. We had a contract, we knew each others limits and respected them, our activities remained within the confines of that contract and that was that."
"Except for," she flipped again, "Your Dom right before Christian."
"Yes. He became a friend on some level."
"You did things with him that were not just sexual."
"Yes. Dinner, a movie, a few trips, a lot of conversation. Mainly about his job and stuff like that though."
"How did that work for you? That crossing of information?"
"Fine," Ana stated. "Dominick never tried to tell me what to do outside of our contractual agreement though there were a few times I know he wanted to."
"But didn't."
"No. He never wanted me to do or be anything other than what I was. Which was really nice now that I think about it. In some ways, I feel like he was the only person to ever really know me which sounds insane since I wasn't in love with him or anything but he just…I don't know…let me be and appreciated it."
"You don't feel that Christian knew you?"
"I don't know. I always felt like he was trying to keep me in the submissive box even though I'd become his girlfriend. And I'm not submissive, not even a little if I really think about it. So if that's what he wanted, then why would he come after me and tell me he loved me?" And right on cue she started to cry when she thought about that moment. He'd finally said it and as earnest as he'd been, her joy had been stolen by circumstance.
"My opinion is that he saw in you things you don't see in yourself. Much like the way he refused your love for him based on his own view of who he was." The doctor tapped her lips with one cherry red nail and cocked her head to the side. "This isn't exactly professional but it's the truth. I've never met the man but I do live in Seattle and therefore I do know who he is and I've seen his picture in the media. I can't recall ever seeing him with anyone though."
A swell of pride and nostalgia puffed up Ana's chest. "I was his first girlfriend."
A pause. "But you started as a submissive."
"Correct."
"When the nature of your relationship changed did the two of you sit down and revisit the parameters of said relationship?" Dr. Kincaid felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as the elusive breakthrough got closer and closer.
"No. Not really." Awareness crept up her spine just as regret coated her gut.
"The title of your relationship changed, Anastasia but the rules remained the same."
She shook her head emphatically. "No, the rules all changed," she murmured.
"For you. Not for him. If anything he probably added a few new ones based on what limited knowledge he has on being a boyfriend."
"This is all my fault," Ana whispered as tears dragged down her smooth cheeks.
"No," Dr. Kincaid pressed, "It's not all your fault. But it's not all his either."