Hey y'all, important context for this story.

This story begins about two weeks after Ana was attacked by Hyde. In this story, she isn't pregnant, and therefore there was no major fight and Christian never stormed out and met Elena. Other than that, this story is cannon compliant.

As I've stated with my other FSOG story, I HEAVILY prefer their relationship in the movies. While I haven't read the books cover to cover, I've read large chunks of all three books, and I find the relationship between them extremely toxic and at times outright abusive. Their dynamic is so different and so much healthier in the movies, and therefore anything I write for this fandom is based on the movies, not the books.

Also, this story is inspired by my unwavering belief that both the books and the movies did Anastasia absolutely DIRTY by never outright calling her a brat, or allowing her to realise that submissives don't have to be on their best behaviour at all times. I honestly think her whole relationship with BDSM would have been radically different if she knew there wasn't just one way to be a sub.

Chapter One

''For the last time, you are not driving,'' Christian said, clenching Ana's car keys in his balled-up fist. ''I won't tell you again.''

''Oh, you won't tell me?'' Ana cried. Her hands were on her hips and her ponytail swung back and forth as she moved her head, accentuating her words. ''At what point did you come to the wrong conclusion that I need your permission to drive my own fucking car?''

''Why do you make everything so difficult?'' He groaned, slamming her keys down on the kitchen countertop behind them. Ana made a quick dive for them, but Christian swept them back up and held them over his head, using the four inches of height that he had on his wife to keep them just out of her reach.

''Why are you such a controlling knobhead?'' Ana shot back, making a futile attempt to jump for her keys. Her body screamed in protest, and pain shot from her core to the ends of her fingers and toes.

''Knobhead?'' Christian echoed, amused. ''That's a new one.''

''Just give me my keys!''

''Anastasia, you have three broken ribs, an abdominal bleed, a fractured elbow, a black eye and absolutely no self-preservation. You are not driving anywhere.''

''Doctor Bartley said two weeks.'' Ana aggressively jammed two fingers in her husband's face, well aware of how close the movement came to the ''up yours'' gesture. ''He said I could drive after two weeks. It's been two weeks.''

''Ana, your entire stomach looks like you rolled around in black paint. I don't give a fuck what your doctor said, you are not well enough to operate a car. If you want to go somewhere, Taylor will take you.''

''If I want to go somewhere, I will drive myself, like the grown fucking woman that I am.'' Ana stamped her foot like a toddler. ''Now I will not tell you again. If you want to stay a married man for longer than another five minutes, you will give me my goddam car keys.''

''Fine.'' Christian raised both his hands in defeat. He loosened his grip on the keys and let the drop to the floor, meeting the kitchen tile with a high-pitched ding. ''You want to be stupid, be my guest. I obviously can't stop you.''

Ana reached for the floor, trying not to give her husband the satisfaction of seeing how much pain the small movement caused her. When she'd managed to retrieve her keys and get herself back into an upright position, she marched towards the elevator, moving as quickly as her broken body would let her. She slammed the basement button and turned to stare down her husband, daring him to break the ice-cold glare until the closing doors split them apart.

An hour later, Ana awkwardly hobbled from the elevator back into the safe confines of her living room. Her veins were filled with solid cement, crunching her insides with every step she took. She dropped her handbag on the floor in the middle of the room and threw her car keys like they were a loaded bomb, with no regard for where in the sprawling apartment they landed. In her other hand, she crunched her empty Starbucks cup, the stupid coffee that she'd just about killed herself for, and dropped it into the kitchen trash can.

Truth be told, she'd known driving wasn't an overly smart idea, but she hadn't realised it was going to hurt that much. All those small, insignificant movements – the shoulder checks, the leg extensions, that tiny little lurch when the car stopped at a traffic light – had been like a thousand little needles piercing her skin from the inside out.

She hadn't really even wanted to go anywhere. It was just that when she'd casually mentioned to Christian that she was officially cleared to drive again, and he'd immediately responded that he wouldn't allow her to drive anywhere, her brain had imploded. She'd quite literally seen red, and at that moment, she would have driven herself off a goddam cliff if it meant she got the last word. Now, she had a body that was on fire and the sick knowledge that she was coming home to an unfinished argument.

Christian was waiting for her, his anxious pace interrupted by the arrival of the elevator. He moved across the floor in quick strides, and before Ana could say anything, he'd wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into him, keeping his grip light and airy, holding her like she was a million-dollar ornament that would shatter with one wrong move.

''I'm sorry.'' He whispered, mumbling his words into her hair.

''Yeah, me too.''

''I'm just really wound up right now.'' Christian sighed, gently resting his chin on the top of her head. ''I've been so worried about you that I haven't been focusing on work, and now I'm behind and I've got projects piling up and I just worry that you don't take care of yourself and- ''

''Christian, it's okay.'' Ana looked up and ran a thumb over her husband's chin. ''I know you worry; I don't mean to stress you out. I just went straight from being stuck in the hospital to being stuck in this penthouse and I'm going a little bit stir crazy. I didn't mean to take it out on you.''

''No, you were right too.'' Christian sighed. He gave Ana a slight smirk. ''You were right – I was being a controlling knobhead.''

''Well…'' Ana grinned, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck. She stretched onto her tiptoes and affectionately pecked him on the lips.

''Honestly, I think I might also be a little bit frustrated,'' Christian murmured, giving Ana a longing look. ''Two weeks is a long time for us.''

''Oh, thank God, you said it.'' Ana threw her head back dramatically. ''I'm going mad.''

''Yeah, the feeling is mutual, Mrs Grey.''

''Come on, then.'' Ana bit her lip, slipping her hand into her husband's. She attempted to pull him in the direction of their bedroom, but he remained immobile, an object at rest.

''What?'' He cocked his eyebrow in that way he did when he was pretty sure he knew what she was getting at, but he didn't like it. ''What are you doing?''

''I'm rectifying the situation,'' Ana teased, lowering her voice in her very best impression of her husband.

''Haha, very funny.'' Christian rolled his eyes. ''No.''

''What? Why not? You said it – we're frustrated. You wanna keep arguing over stupid shit like car keys or do you want to get laid?''

''I don't need to tell you which one of those I want,'' Christian said, half-heartedly pulling Ana back. ''But what I want doesn't matter. You can barely lift a finger without wincing. You're not up to sex.''

''Alright.'' Ana huffed, shaking off her husband's hand.

She came to stand squarely in front of him, eye-to-eye and made a big show of running her hands around the outline of his body.

''This is your body. You call the shots. But this- '' she said, gesturing to herself. ''This is my body. And I decide what it's up for.''

''Ana-''

'' 'Ana' me one more time.'' She challenged, folding her arms across her chest. Christian was silent for a moment, eyes narrowed in thought.

''Uh, no, thank you.'' He said eventually, in a tone that was so serious Ana couldn't keep her stern composure. She snorted, covering her mouth in a futile attempt to hide her giggles.

''Whatever, I'm going to have a bath,'' Ana said, turning on her heels and walking towards the bedroom. ''You can join me if you want.''

''You think I'm going fall for that?'' Christian called after her.

''Yes,'' Ana responded easily. She reached for the edge of her t-shirt and yanked it over her head, careful to avoid the worst of her bruising. With her bare breasts exposed, she casually dropped the shirt on the floor and continued towards the bedroom, now undoing the laces on her sweatpants.

''Jesus, Ana, we have household staff!'' Christian cried, suddenly sprinting to catch up with her.

''Oh well, I'm sure Taylor and Gail have seen boobs before.'' Ana dismissed, stepping out of her sweatpants and leaving them in her wake. She pranced into the bedroom in nothing but her underwear with Christian hot on her heels, his eyes darting back and forth, ensuring they were still alone.

''You are the most infuriating person I've ever met.'' Christian groaned, trailing Ana to the bathroom.

She stopped at the ensuite door, and with her back to Christian, slowly and sensually peeled her underwear down, letting them pool at her feet. She heard her husband groan under his breath, and she grinned.

In the bathroom, she ran the hot water and carefully stepped into the tub. She didn't acknowledge the man hovering in the doorway, but she did make sure he got a full view of her naked body before she sank down, savouring the sweet heat against her aching skin.

''You drive me crazy, Anastasia.''

''I know.'' Ana smiled and scooted back in the bath, flipping her hair over her shoulders.

''No, I mean you make me want to put my head through a wall.''

''Yeah, I know.''

''Fuck it.''

Ana closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall, listening to the sounds of her husband scrambling to get underdressed, and the soft splash of water as he climbed into the bath with her. She opened one eye, then the other, and with a self-satisfied smirk, leaned forward and ran a hand up the inside of her husband's thigh.

''Ana…'' Christian whined, screwing up his face.

''What?'' Ana said innocently, gliding closer through the water. She pushed her nose against Christian's, tracing her hand higher, running the tips of her fingers over his hipbones.

''Ana, please, don't…'' Christian grabbed her wrist. Ana flinched at the sudden contact, the way it pulled at the break in her elbow, and Christian's face felt. ''Shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-''

''No, no, it's fine,'' Ana said, trying not to let the anguish show on her face.

''It's not fine. Just, please, go sit on your side of the bath.''

''You don't even want me to touch you?'' Ana pouted.

''Ana, please.'' Christian was literally begging at this point. ''I'm absolutely desperate for you. It's actually starting to get uncomfortable. And I don't want to get in another stupid sexually frustrating fight with you.''

''Then don't!'' Ana insisted. ''Make love to me instead.''

''I don't want to hurt you.''

''Look, watch this,'' Ana said, slinking back to the other side of the bath.

''Oh god, I'm already scared.'' Christian joked, but there was no denying that his eyes were glued to her.

Resting herself against the end curve of the tub, she slowly swung one ankle over the edge, and rested the other on top of the faucet. Holding on to the sides for support, she now laid perfectly cradled by the porcelain walls of the tub, her legs fully open and exposed to her husband.

''Oh, Christ, Ana.'' Christian sounded pained.

''Be gentle,'' Ana said playfully. ''I know you can do it when you actually try. I can't help a whole lot, but this is comfortable for me, where I am now. As long as you do all the work, I'll be fine.''

''You know, this is the definition of topping from the bottom.''

''Good. Now move your ass.''

Christian's resolve broke. Using the back wall of the bathroom to support himself, he carefully moved in between his wife's open thighs, and with one last, sweet kiss he entered her, realigning a cosmic imbalance that had hung between them for two torturous weeks.

Ana sat at the breakfast bar, softly sipping her herbal tea and watching as Gail broke eggs over the frying pain. The early morning orange dripped in through living room windows, and Ana watched the sunrise heave itself over the city outline, her mind going a million miles an hour.

''Hey, what are you doing up?"' Christian emerged from their bedroom, half-dressed and clipping his watch over his wrist. ''It's 5 am.''

Ana's presence in their kitchen was a stark contrast to their typical weekday morning routine. Christian was up at the crack of dawn and out of the house by 6.30, in his office by 7 am every morning. Ana, having always detested early mornings, stayed in bed until the last possible second, arriving in her own office (or, as was the current case, logging in to her work-from-home portal) not a minute before 9 am.

''I couldn't sleep,'' Ana said simply.

''Are you okay?'' The panic was immediately evident in Christian's voice. ''Are you in pain?''

''No.'' Ana lied. She was, obviously, but that wasn't why she was up.

''You had a bad dream?''

''No.''

''You're stressed about work?''

''Can you stop trying to guess? There's no reason. I just couldn't sleep.''

Christian stared her down, disbelieving. She couldn't lie to him – he could see straight through her.

''Ana, what's wrong?''

Ana peered up at Gail, who now had her back to the couple and was prodding at her scrambled eggs over the stove.

''It's…'' Ana began. Colour flooded her cheeks, and she shook her head, dismissively, burying herself in her tea.

''It's what?'' Christian prompted, relentless as always.

''It's… private,'' Ana said, so quietly that she was practically just mouthing the words. She gave a subtle nod of her head in Gail's direction.

''Are you… horny?'' Christian whispered back, looking excited. Ana smacked him in the shoulder, harder than necessary.

''No!'' She shouted. Gail turned around, surprised. Ana gave her an embarrassed smile.

''Just tell me.'' Christian was starting to get impatient.

''Not here.'' Ana shook her head again.

''In the bedroom, then.''

''Fine.''

With Christian's help, Ana clambered down from her barstool, knocking back the last of her tea like a tequila shot. She followed Christian back towards their bedroom, pretending not to hear the amused way Gail chuckled under her breath, obviously assuming their morning rendezvous was a little more than just a conversation.

Well, maybe.

''What's going on?'' Christian said before he'd even fully closed the door. Ana lowered herself gently onto the bed, grimacing as she went. Overnight, her body stiffened, the pain making itself comfortable and at home, and it violently resisted movement for at least the first hour of her day. ''You're starting to worry me.''

''No, it's not… please don't worry.'' Ana half-laughed, rubbing her eyes. ''I just… I just wanted to talk to you about something.''

Christian came to sit beside her on their bed, gently rubbing at her one knee that didn't have a bruise the shape of Ohio stamped across it.

''Over the past couple of weeks, I've been… thinking.'' Ana started. She'd had twenty-odd minutes in the kitchen to compose her thoughts and structure this conversation in her head, and yet she'd come up completely blank. She was fully fumbling in the dark here, making this up as she went along.

''That's always dangerous.'' Christian tried to joke, but she could see the concern behind it.

''And last night, after we… it kept me up, most of the night. I couldn't stop thinking. So now, I want to talk.''

''Did I hurt you?'' Christian said immediately, his eyes widening.

''No, Christian, just listen, please.'' She knew her husband well enough to know that talking for a significant amount of time without interruption was going to be near impossible, but she was going to try anyway. ''I mean, I've been thinking about our sex life.''

Christian eyed her curiously, and she could see that she had his attention.

Fuck it, here goes nothing.

''I guess because we hadn't slept together for two weeks, which is, you know, that's a long time for us, and, I mean, you know we're both frustrated, so I guess I was thinking about sex a lot. And it made me realise that… I don't think I'm totally happy.''

Christian's eyes shot open, wild with panic. Ana quickly realised her mistake and scrambled to fix it.

''No, no, that's not what I meant.'' She said quickly, reaching for her husband's hand. ''I didn't mean I'm not happy with you, or that we're not having good sex. It's good. It's better than good. You know that. I just mean that I…fuck it, I'm curious, Christian. I want to explore.''

Ana watched as the emotions changed on her husband's face. The panic slowly deteriorated and replaced itself with momentary confusion. Gradually, that gave way to intrigue and something that looked like amusement.

''Explain.''

''Well… okay.'' Ana hauled herself off the bed. Standing was uncomfortable, but she needed to pace, to do something with her nervous energy. She moved back and forth a few times, and then froze, glancing down at her husband. ''Okay, I'm going to tell you exactly what I mean, and you can't tease me, or make fun of me, or tell me I'm crazy. If you don't want to do it, we don't. Just hear me out, okay?''

Christian's lips twisted into a shit-eating grin.

''You're asking me to keep an open mind about experimenting in the bedroom?'' He laughed. ''Not gonna lie, I didn't see that plot twist coming.''

''Shut the fuck up,'' Ana said, but she was giggling. ''Just, listen.''

Christian made a gesture with his palms as if to say ''the floor is yours''.

''I want to play with BDSM. I mean, more than we do at the moment.'' She blurted out quickly, her words almost overlapping each other.

''Right…'' Christian said, his eyes narrowed in an expression that said ''I'm a little lost, but I'm listening.''

''Like we did in the beginning. Before we broke up. Back when I was your actual submissive.''

Christian's face paled.

''Absolutely not.''

''Just listen.'' Ana pleaded, getting down to her knees in front of her husband. She quickly thought better of it as her body throbbed, and instead sat down on her bottom.

''I'm listening,'' Christian said, though with significantly less enthusiasm than he'd had before.

''This isn't something I'm dragging out of nowhere.'' Ana started, cupping Christian's chin, forcing him to look at her. ''This is something I've been thinking about for a long time, to some extent, anyway. I've just never quite had the courage or known how to brace the subject with you. But like I said, these past two weeks of abstinence have made it impossible for me to think about anything but sex, and now I really can't get it out of my head. And I want to explore with you, Christian. I really do.''

''We do explore. I dominate you in the playroom all the time.''

''It's not the same. We play, a little bit, but it's not real domination, is it? It's not what you would have done with your other submissives?''

''You aren't my other submissives, Anastasia. You're my wife.''

''I know that.''

''Ana, BDSM is how I lost you. I swore off it, the second you walked out of my penthouse. We can play, sure, but when I walked away from that lifestyle, it was meant to be for good.''

''For me? Right?'' Ana prompted. Christian moved his eyes, avoiding her gaze. ''But what if that's not what I want?''

''It is what you want.'' He stressed, though Ana didn't know if he was trying to convince himself or her. ''If it wasn't, you wouldn't have left.''

''That's not why I left.'' Ana swallowed hard. ''I feel like even after all this time, you don't quite get that.''

Christian studied Ana like he was trying to read her mind. God, if only he could. Wouldn't that make their lives together a whole lot easier?

''I left because I'd fallen in love with you. And because I didn't think you'd ever feel that way about me. And…''

Ana hesitated over her words. She needed to get this next part right, or the whole operation fell apart.

''And because when we met, you were very clear that you had one kind of relationship, and one kind only. Not only did I think you'd never want anything romantic with me, but I didn't think there was any kind of wiggle room in the kind of BDSM you engaged in. There were things I liked about it, Christian, like, really liked about it, but there were also things I hated. I thought it was all or nothing, so I chose nothing. I didn't think you'd be willing to meet me halfway. It's a completely different story now.''

''So… what did you like about it?'' Christian said. He was relaxing now, still looking uncertain, but a little more open. ''What kind of things do you want to explore?''

Ana's answer came out as an inaudible mumble. Her face flushed, and she was suddenly bashful.

''What?'' Christian asked, slightly amused by his wife's embarrassment.

''I like getting in trouble.'' She muttered, only slightly louder.

''Huh.''

''Not like when you spanked me with the belt.'' Ana clarified. She stood, too quickly, and had to allow a moment for the heat in her ribs to subside. ''More like… more like that time I rolled my eyes at you when you bought me the car. And you bent me over your knee for it.''

''Can you explain the difference?'' Christian said, shifting a little on the bed. ''Or more so, what the difference is for you?''

Ana bit her lip and picked at her nail, feeling flustered.

''I'm just trying to understand, sweetheart.'' He said gently. ''I don't want to get this wrong.''

''When we first met, I couldn't get my head around the concept of punishments,'' Ana said. ''Playful spankings for eye-rolling, okay, sure, that made sense. That was fun and kinky. I got that. But it was the punishments that were meant to be unpleasant that I couldn't understand. I couldn't come to terms with why anyone would consensually participate in something that wasn't enjoyable for them, or why you wanted me to. I get it now, though. Your previous submissives wanted to be dominated, completely. They got a thrill out of being owned, and you got a thrill out of owning them. If they disobeyed you or stepped out of line, they wanted there to be real repercussions. If there weren't then they didn't feel like they were really being controlled. Even though the punishment itself wasn't fun for them, it contributed to the overall idea that they were your property and that they had to follow your rules at all times, which was fun for them. That was what they got off on. Right?''

She paused, raising an eyebrow at Christian, silently asking for approval. Christian nodded numbly, looking shocked, overwhelmed, at what Ana thought was the first time she'd ever shown a real genuine understanding of his lifestyle before her, the proof that she didn't just think he was some deranged sadist.

''Right, but I don't like that. I don't get off on being owned or feeling like I don't have my own autonomy. That was why the belt thing was too real for me. Because you were genuinely mad at me, and it was meant to be harsh and unenjoyable for me and meant to deter me from, you know ''misbehaving'' in the future. I hated that.''

''But you liked the other times I've spanked you? Like when I bought you the car?''

''Right. Or when you handcuffed my wrists to my ankles because I took my top off in France. Things like that.''

''Because it was more light-hearted. Because it didn't feel like I was actually upset with you?''

''Right. It felt like we were playing.''

''When you say you like getting into trouble…'' Christian rubbed a hand over his chin. His body was tense, and Ana felt her heart swell a little. He was trying so desperately to nail down every last detail. She knew how important it was to him that he understood her completely, that there were absolutely no miscommunications. It was important to her, too. ''Do you mean you like misbehaving, or you like the playful punishments that come with it?''

''Both,'' Ana admitted. ''Maybe it was because I was such a good girl growing up, and I never broke any rules or questioned anyone's authority but rebelling against you is fun. I've never rebelled against anyone in my life, and there's a certain kind of thrill to it, especially when I don't know exactly what you're going to do. And I like it when the punishments are just intense enough for me to be a little bit anxious about it. Like going on a roller-coaster, or going skydiving, or something. It's nerve-wracking but in a good way. It's an adrenaline rush.''

''You mean, like a brat?''

Ana screwed up her face. That seemed uncalled for.

''Well, I mean, I wouldn't say it's bratty, exactly.'' Ana stammered, feeling a little offended. She'd just been brutally open and vulnerable with him, and he was calling her a brat?

''No, Ana, not like that.'' Christian laughed, shaking his head. ''It's a BDSM thing. A bratty submissive. It's a submissive that talks back, disobeys their dom and gets into trouble on purpose.''

Ana stared blankly. All emotion left her face, and she blinked, one, twice, three times. Something bubbled in the pit of her stomach, and after a moment, she realised it was rage.

''That's been a thing this whole time?!"' She screamed, and Christian flinched. In the kitchen, a pan clattered to the floor, possibly a coincidence, or possible poor Gail jumping out of her skin. ''And you didn't tell me?''

''Well…'' Christian struggled to regain his composure. He was surprised, but also looked a little thrilled by his wife's sudden outburst. ''I mean, brats were not exactly the kind of submissives I had dynamics with. And after you left, we threw all this out, remember? It just never came up.''

''So wait, are there different kinds of doms as well?''

''Well, yeah.''

''What kind of dom were you?''

''I guess I was a master?'' Christian said though he didn't sound really sure. ''A dom that demanded complete submission, respect and obedience from his subs, and punished, quite harshly, if he didn't get it.''

''What kind of a dom would go with a brat?'' Ana leant back against the wall behind her, feeling like her husband had very casually shoved her headfirst into Pandora's box.

''Well, typically, a brat tamer. Or a soft dom, I guess.''

''What's the difference?''

''A brat tamer's mission is to wrangle the brat into submission. They'll match the brat, stunt for stunt, and the more the brat misbehaves, the tougher the tamer gets until the brat eventually breaks.''

A revolted look came over Ana's face, involuntarily. Christian nodded, as though this was what he'd expected.

''Yeah, I thought so.''

''Well, what about the soft dom?''

''Soft doms are exactly that – they're softer. They're more about playful dominance, and less about ownership. They don't give you more than they know you can handle, and when they push your limits, it's very gently, a little bit at a time. Soft doms aren't sadistic or degrading, and they don't consider themselves to be exponentially above their submissives. They go well with brats, because they're not gonna lose their mind when there's misbehaviour, and regular punishments and discipline rarely become too much for either partner because everything is focused more on pleasure and play.''

Ana's face lit up. She was almost surprised it wasn't physically glowing, that there wasn't actual light radiating across the room. Christian's smile widened, and it made her insides flutter.

''Yeah… I thought so.'' He repeated, grinning like an idiot.

Before Ana could speak again, Christian's phone vibrated, interrupting the moment.

''Hello?'' He said. There was a moment of silence as he listened, and then his brows knitted together and he closed his eyes, groaning in annoyance. ''Fucking imbeciles. Couldn't pour water out of a boat with instructions on the heel. Alright, give me ten minutes.''

Ana pouted a childish, overdramatic pout. Christian chuckled and came over to her, running his finger along her bottom lip.

''There's an emergency at work. I've gotta go in early and fire some incompetent morons, once I've finished cleaning up their mess.''

''Or, counteroffer, you ignore all that and stay with me all day,'' Ana said, tucking herself into her husband. He laughed again and kissed her lovingly on the crown on her head.

''I won't be late.'' He promised. ''5 pm, probably, 6 pm at worst. We'll talk more then. Look after yourself, get some rest, drink a lot of water.''

''Fine.'' Ana huffed playfully.

Christian finished dressing and assembled his things, and ten minutes later he was out the door with Taylor. Ana headed for the shower, dressed and put on just enough concealer that her first Zoom meeting of the day wouldn't immediately gawk at the black coat of her undereye.

By 9 am she was in her office, with half an hour to review the material she needed to go over before her meeting. She read the first line of her report, then read it again, then a third time. Not once did she actually register the words. Her brain was a million miles away.

''Fuck it.'' She said, glancing up at the clock on the wall. She could wing this meeting, she'd done it before.

Ana closed the document on her laptop and opened a timer, which she set for twenty-five minutes. Enough time to close all activities and reopen something work related by the time the meeting call came through. With that, she opened a google search engine.

BDSM, she typed into the box. Bratty submissives.

I have the second chapter written and ready to go, so please leave a review if you're interested in seeing more!