Chpt. 17: Ana's POV
Buzz buzz
"Yes?" I say into the intercom.
"I have a delivery for Ms. Steele," a voice says.
"Please come up," I reply surprised.
A few minutes later there is a knock on the door.
"Yes?" I ask opening the door.
"I have a delivery for Ms. Steele?" a young man says holding a very large vase of beautiful flowers.
"Oh of course, please put them on the counter" I say pointing to the breakfast bar.
"Have a nice day ma'am" he says leaving.
The flowers are gorgeous and are an array of bright colors that make me think of spring. I quickly find the card enclosed and am surprised to find a hand written note from Christian in an envelope. I quickly assumed the flowers were from him but expected him to have his assistant or Taylor order the flowers.
Ana-
Please forgive me.
Please let me explain.
I miss you, I miss your smile, I miss your eyes.
Call me
Christian
I sigh and put the flowers on my dresser in my room and I have to admit the flowers do wonders to brighten my room up. I want to talk to Christian but I don't know that I'm ready yet. I don't know that I want to know what he has to say. I'm afraid that no matter what this is the end for us and I think I can handle that. We have gotten so close the last few weeks and I really think I'm falling in love with him. I don't know that I can walk away now but I know I can't be in that lifestyle. If I ask him to give it all up for me I worry he would regret it and end up cheating on me with someone who can give him what he wants and needs.
Thank you for the flowers. I still need more time –A
I understand, please know that I miss you terribly –C
I miss you too –A
The next couple of days pass by each one like the one before. Every day Christian sends be a beautiful bouquet of flowers delivered by the same guy so he must be using the same florist for each order. Christian and I don't talk again; I don't know what to say. I am scared senseless that I'm losing him and I feel that I'm prolonging the inevitable. I go to work and come home every day doing nothing else each day. I force myself to eat everyday although I have absolutely no appetite but I know I need to eat. I feel like I'm in hell. My nightmares have returned in full force and are now occurring every night. I'm lucky if I can manage to get three or four hours of sleep a night.
Elliot surprised me with a trip to New York City to see the ball drop on New Years Eve! –K
How wonderful Kate! I'm so happy for you –A
We are flying straight to NYC from here but I will be back on the 2nd or 3rd so we can catch up! –K
No worries, have a great time –A
"Ms. Steele?" I hear as I walk out of the restaurant at the end of my lunch shift.
"Taylor?" I ask surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Can we talk?" He asks.
"Of course," I answer as he leads me to where the now familiar black Audi SUV sits. "Is everything okay?"
"No," he says sighing. "Christian is absolutely miserable without you and I'm here to ask you for help. He hasn't eaten in days, he is barely drinking water and he hasn't gone to work since the day after Christmas. I'm really concerned for him."
"Taylor, I don't know what I can do…."I say sadly.
"Look, I know what happened at the Grey's on Christmas and have an idea of what Mrs. Lincoln announced to everyone. I'm just asking you to hear Christian out; he's not the man you think he is. Since you came into his life he has completely changed for the better. I've never seen him happy before and before Christmas he had a permanent smile embedded on his face. Please, just hear him out. He really is a good guy and he would never hurt you," Taylor explains.
"But how do you know? I can't imagine him in that lifestyle but since he was he would have hurt women. Why do you think he won't hurt me?" I ask, admitting at least one of my fears.
"Because you are different," Taylor says. "You have been since the first time you met him. He has never been with anyone like you. I don't think he ever cared about the other women but anyone can see how strongly he feels about you whenever you two are together."
"It can't be just that simple," I reply.
"It is Ana, you are different and you have made him different," Taylor explains. "If I wasn't so sure he would never hurt you I would not be here. I will guarantee you that he will not physically hurt you without your consent and if he does I will beat the shit out of him."
"Taylor?" I ask after a long period silence.
"Yes?" He responds.
"Will you take me to Christian please?" I ask taking a deep breath.
"Of course Ana," Taylor says getting out of the back seat and climbing into the driver's seat.
I try to think of everything to say to Christian the entire car ride to Christian's apartment but I end up coming up empty handed by the time we arrive. We pull into a parking garage which says Parking for Escala residents only. Taylor escorts me to the elevator and enters a code which enables him to select the penthouse floor. A couple minutes later we arrive at Christian's penthouse and I stand in a beautiful white foyer. The entire apartment, if you call a place this big an apartment, seems to be a crisp cool white at least all the areas I can see. There are beautiful paintings hung but I see no personal photos anywhere, granted I am only standing in one small part of what I can only imagine is a very large apartment.
"Taylor?" I ask.
"He's in his study according to Gail. He hasn't come out of there except to use the bathroom all day," Taylor answers. "Second door on your right."
I take a deep breath and ever so slowly walk down the hall. I knock gently on the door but I don't get a response. I try knocking again and still nothing. I open the door and am utterly shocked at what I see. Christian is lying on a small leather couch completely disheveled; he hasn't shaved in days and he is still in the clothes he must have slept in last night. His office has papers strewn all over the floor, his phone is off the hook and I see a vase of flowers on the floor.
"Christian?" I say walking closer to him. I can't tell if he is passed out from drinking for just pure exhaustion.
"Ana, is that really you?" he asks opening his eyes.
"Yes it's me," I answer. "What the hell happened here?"
"You left me," he says as if that were to explain everything.
"I didn't leave you Christian, I told you I needed time," I explain.
"It's been days Ana, I haven't heard from you," he says. "You promised you would never leave me and you left."
"When did I promise that?" I ask not remembering saying that.
"In your sleep, the night we spent in your bed," he explains. "You said you would never leave me, you promised."
"Christian," I say sighing. "I don't know where we can go from here but I think we need to have a long talk."
"You're going to give me a chance?" he asks surprised.
"I think we need to talk and see if we have a chance," I answer. "I've thought a lot about what I learned at your parents' house-"
"I wish you never heard that," he says looking at the floor.
"So do I, but it would have needed to come out eventually," I said sighing. "As much time as I've spent thinking about that, I've spent just as much time thinking about how much you mean to me. I don't want to lose you Christian."
He sits up and pulls me into a strong hug, holding me tightly against his chest. We sit like that for what seems like hours, neither of us wanting to break the contact and neither of us knowing what to say.
"How did you get here?" Christian asks.
"Taylor," I answer. "He caught me as I was leaving work and asked me to talk to you."
"I told him to leave you alone…I'm sorry Ana," Christian says.
"Don't be," I reply. "When was the last time you ate?"
"I don't know," Christian answers. "Christmas dinner I think."
"Christian! That was days ago, you need to eat!" I yell at him. "Go take a shower while I make some lunch. And put on clean clothes, it looks like you haven't changed your clothes in days."
"I haven't," he says standing up. "You promise you will be here when I'm done? You won't leave?"
"I promise Christian, I will be here you have my word," I reply.
Christian goes upstairs to where I presume is his bedroom and I set out to find the kitchen. The first room I find is a large great room complete with a baby grand piano. The room is very formal and barely looks used. The next room is an equally large dining room with an ornate table to seat eight which I doubt has ever seated that many people. I don't see Christian as the type to entertain here. Finally I find the kitchen which is any chef's dream complete with high end appliances and granite countertops. I look through the cabinets trying to find something easy to make when I hear a door close behind me.
"Can I give you a hand?" A female probably in her mid-thirties asks approaching me.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I was looking for something quick to make for Christian" I explain. "I'm Ana."
"It's wonderful to meet you Ms. Steele, my name is Gail I am Mr. Grey's housekeeper and personal cook," she says extending her hand.
"Please call me Ana," I say smiling.
"I have some homemade macaroni and cheese here in the fridge that is Mr. Grey's favorite if you would like me to heat it up. Or I can make subs with homemade chicken noodle soup?" She asks.
"I think the macaroni and cheese would be perfect," I answer. "I will be more than happy to heat it up."
"It's no problem Ana, please allow me," she says turning on the oven and putting the dish on the rack. "I have the timer set so if you just take it out when the timer goes off it should be hot. Would you like anything to drink?"
"I think just water or juice?" I ask.
"Sure, I have pitchers of both I will set on the table along with two place settings," she says opening the fridge to get the drinks.
"I don't mind setting the table," I say, not used to having someone do all of this for me.
"It's not a problem Ana," she says quickly setting the table and putting glasses out for our drinks. "If you need me my apartment is right through that door. Don't hesitate to knock if you need something. And thank you for coming to talk to Mr. Grey. It's been a rough few days."
Before I can respond she leaves the room and returns to what I presume is her apartment. I return to the great room to wait for Christian and I walk over to the balcony doors. The view from his apartment is absolutely breathtaking; you can practically see all of Seattle from here. I open the balcony doors and step outside for a few moments enjoying the view even further before I start getting cold. I turn around to go in and bump right into Christian.
"Oh, sorry," I say. "I didn't realize you were there. I was just taking in the beautiful view you have."
"The view is really something, isn't it?" He says as if this is the first time he is looking at it.
"Gail has some mac and cheese heating up in the oven that should be done in just a few minutes," I say as we walk back into the great room.
"You met Gail?" he asks.
"Yes, I think she heard me looking around the kitchen. I wasn't sure where everything was kept and was looking for something quick and easy to make," I answer.
"It's my favorite," he says.
Beep beep beep
"That must be it; Gail said she set at timer," I said walking into the kitchen.
Christian carries the dish to the table and we begin eating in silence.
"Christian, you really have lost weight," I say breaking the silence.
"I know," he sighs. "I couldn't bring myself to eat these last few days."
"I had to practically force myself to eat lately too," I say sadly.
"Really?" he asks surprised.
"Yes," I answer. "I may not have been closed up in a room for several days, but trust me when I tell you I was suffering too. I haven't slept well since the night we slept together."
"Me either," he says.
We finish our dinner and put all the dishes in the sink. I started to load the dishwasher but Christian insisted we leave it for Gail saying it was a better use of our time to talk. I think he could tell I was trying putting off this conversation. Christian grabs a bottle of wine and we had back to the great room where Christian turns on the gas fireplace.
"So…."I say not knowing where to begin.
"First, thank you for giving me a chance to explain," Christian begins. "In order to tell you about what you learned on Christmas, it's important that I first explain a few things to you. My mother was a drug addict and a prostitute; she overdosed on drugs when I was four years old. I was with her body for several days before her pimp found me and called the police. Her pimp had put his lit cigarettes out on my chest and my back multiple times for as long as I can remember. When the police finally found me I was severely underweight, malnourished and filthy. They took me to the hospital where Grace happened to be the on call pediatrician that night. They had to sedate me in order for her to examine me because I kept freaking out whenever someone touched my chest or my back but they had to treat the burns. I was in the hospital for weeks gaining weight and having my burns treated. During that time Grace and Carrick were able to expedite the adoption process since they had already been approved by the state when they adopted Elliot. I didn't talk until I was nearly six years old."
"Oh Christian, I had no idea" I say shocked. "I am so sorry you had to go through that."
"I had a lot of anger growing up and it took years of therapy as an adult to recognize the anger I had was being misdirected. My anger was at my mother for abandoning me and for not stopping her pimp from abusing me," he explains taking a deep breath and running his hands through his hair.
"We can take a break if you want," I say quietly sensing his increased stress level.
"No, I want to get through this," Christian says before continuing. "Like I said I had a lot of anger. I was constantly getting in physical fights at school; I was expelled from three different schools by the time I turned fifteen. I was a horny teenager but couldn't bear the idea of anyone touching me. I didn't allow anyone to touch my chest or my back even if I had clothes on. Most of the fights in high school were because someone bumped into me or touched me and I would just see red my anger taking over. My parents tried everything; doctors, therapists, you name it but nothing helped. One summer my mom asked me to help Elena with some yard work that she needed done. I went over and helped her clear out an area where she was going to have a flower bed put in. After a couple of hours in the hot sun she invited me inside for a cold drink. Just like that she kissed me, full on the lips shocking the hell out of me. A minute later she slapped me hard across the cheek. I didn't know what to think; Grace and Carrick did not believe in physical discipline growing up. Elena told me to come back the next day, which I did. That started my introduction to BDSM; every day it would move forward a little further. Every time my mother told her I misbehaved in school or around the house she would take me to her playroom and punish me."
"You had sex with her though?" I ask.
"Yes" He says sighing. "Part of the rewards for not misbehaving was sexual pleasure. It's part of how the lifestyle works; there are rules that are to be followed and if you don't you are punished. If you follow the rules then you are rewarded with pleasure."
"She abused you, Christian," I say shocked. "She is a pedophile but you were still involved with her?"
"Yes," he says sadly. "I know that sounds awful, but until I discussed it with my parents on Christmas I did not see it as abuse. I consented to what she did, which to me did not make what happened abuse. When our sexual relationship ended we were only involved on a business level and then of course at family functions."
"How long were you involved with her?" I ask.
"Six years…" He admits. "It ended just after I turned 21, she helped me become a dominate and at that point I was ready to move on with my own sub."
"So you had So you had submissive's?" I ask, not sure how much I really want to know.
"Yes" He answers honestly. "Each submissive had a contract drawn up with rules, hard limits and soft limits."
"Okay…can you explain further?" I ask. "I don't know what limits are."
"Most of the rules were basic rules including wearing the clothes I bought for them, sleeping eight hours a night, working out three to four days per week, things like that. Hard and soft limits were sexually related items. A hard limit is something they refused to do. A soft limit is something they may consider doing but they may get uncomfortable too so proceed with caution," he explains.
"You had a contract drawn up that said what kind of sex you would have?" I ask surprised.
"Essentially yes," he answers. "But it also included what kind of toys or actions were acceptable and which were completely off limits."
"I don't understand why you can't just explore it and see what you both like," I say. "It seems very complicated this way."
"It's actually the opposite," he explains. "Having it all drawn out and signed ahead of time means you spend less time trying out things each other does not like or don't find as enjoyable as other toys or actions."
"What about punishments?" I ask the question I have been dreading the most.
"If a submissive breaks a rule she is punished. The type of punishment is often determined by what rule she broke, whether or not she has broken the rule before and in some situations what caused the rule to be broken," he answers.
"What types of punishments did you engage in?" I ask, again fearing the answer.
"Well…" he says pausing. "For simple infractions it might be orgasm denial for example. Other times it would be a spanking."
"With something?" I ask quietly.
"Sometimes yes," he admits just as quietly. "Sometimes a belt or cane was used."
"I see…" I say getting up and pacing the room. He just admitted he did what I feared the most.
"Ana, please please understand one thing," he begs. "These were all consenting adult women who had the ability to end the punishment at any time they chose."
"Huh? What do you mean?" I ask confused. How could they end a punishment?
"Every BDSM relationship should have what are called safe words. There should be two safe words, most often yellow and red are used. Yellow is used to tell the dominate to slow down, that the submissive is getting closer to the limit of what she can take. Red is used to communicate to the dominate to stop immediately; her limit is reached," he explains. "I only learned about limits after my second submissive brought it up. Elena did not teach me about safe words, meaning I wasn't allowed to use them when I was her submissive."
"So if either word is said, you would stop," I reiterate.
"Yes," he answers.
"And the submissive's wanted to be punished?" I ask.
"Yes," he answers. "Some people, both men and women, like to be controlled and often the only time to feel controlled is to be punished."
"What did you get out of it?" I ask.
"Control," he answers. "Remember I told you I couldn't bear the idea of anyone touching my chest or my back? This was a hard limit noted in every contract I had with a submissive. The contracts all stipulated that a submissive's hands were to be bound during sexual intercourse or during certain scenes to insure they did not touch me even accidentally. I thought I needed to control every part of my life and often when one area such as work was getting hectic I needed to exhibit more control in another area of my life which was often the sexual area."
"How many contracts have you had?" I ask.
"Fifteen," he answers.
"How did you find these women?" I ask.
"Elena found them for me," he answers.
"Of course she did," I say laughing. "Even when you were no longer her submissive she continued to exhibit control over you."
"No, she just referred girls to me because she knew what I liked," he replies. "It was always my decision whether or not to contract with them."
"Christian, don't you see?" I ask. "She handpicked women for you to fuck exactly how she taught you to fuck. She gave you no other option; even years later she managed still control your life."
He pauses for a few minutes, running his hands through his hair forcefully and doesn't say anything. I walk over to him and hold his hands still; if he continues pulling his hair like that he won't have any by the end of the night. He wraps his arms around my waist and I have to breathe deeply because his arms are touching my lower back. I try to think about just comforting Christian right now but still find myself tensing up at the unfamiliar touch.
"Oh god Ana, I'm sorry," he says quickly removing his arms. "I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay Christian," I whisper. "Tonight is your story, tomorrow I will share mine."
"What else do you want to know?" he asks.
"When we first met, did you want me to be your…to do….?" I ask hesitantly.
"No!" He answers quickly. "Never once did I want you as a submissive! From the first time I saw you I knew there was something different about you. I've been seeing a therapist for several years now and over the past year he has helped me realize that I want more than just contractual relationships with women. I wasn't getting the same gratification from the relationships as I once had. You were the first woman I met that I knew I wanted to try for more with. I never wanted you as a submissive."
"You said you've never let anyone touch your chest and back before," I say. "But I've touched your chest several times?"
"I know, I realized that as well," he answers. "The first time you did was when we bumped into each other and you almost fell. That was the first time someone touched my chest and I felt no pain; I didn't see red. I thought it was a fluke but you have been able to touch my chest several times since then and it has not bothered me. Christmas day was the first time I have ever hugged my parents."
"Really?" I say shocked.
"Hugging always involves someone touching my chest or my back, so I avoided it," he answers.
"Why do you think it is different now?" I ask.
"I'm not sure," he admits. "My therapist, Flynn, says it's because you were the first person that I trusted completely not to hurt me. From the moment I looked in your eyes something told me you would never hurt me."
"But certainly you didn't think your parents would hurt you growing up?" I ask.
"No, not really," he says. "But I didn't have good parental role models early on so when Grace and Carrick adopted me I wasn't sure what to expect. Initially I always expected one of them to punish me physically. Hell, I remember at times doing something on purpose just to see how they would react. How they put up with me is beyond me, but they never raised a hand to me."
"They love you," I reply simply.
"They do and they are saints for putting up with everything I did for so long," he says.
We sit next to each other on the couch in silence. It's well after midnight now and we have been talking for hours. It's easy to see that we are both exhausted from tonight's discussion and neither of us has slept well in the last few days. I realize I should probably head home but I don't know that I want to leave tonight.
"Do you have to work tomorrow?" Christian asks.
"No, I'm off the next three days and then work only the dinner shift on New Year's Day" I answer.
"Will you spend the night with me tonight?" he asks quietly. "I understand if you don't want to but I feel like I finally have you back and I'm afraid if you go home…"
"Yes," I answer. I know he's trying to say he's afraid I won't come back.
"Yes?" he asks.
"Yes I will spend the night with you," I repeat. "There's a lot we still need to talk about."
"There is?" he asks, clearly exhausted.
"Not tonight but yes, tomorrow and probably even after that," I answer. "Tomorrow I will tell you my story and we will see if you still want to continue this with me."
"Ana, there is nothing you can say that will make me leave you," he says kissing me passionately.
"I just worry that I can't do what you want and what you need," I admit tearfully.
"Ana, I told you I realized before I even met you that I don't want or need that lifestyle any longer," he says reassuringly. "I want a normal relationship, one without contracts and rules. I want to be able to see you anytime and talk to you whenever I want, not just when a contract says."
"But what about all the sexual stuff? I don't think I could ever do that stuff," I admit fearfully.
"It isn't always about punishment, there is a great deal of pleasure involved. But if you decide you want a regular sex life with no toys at all then I guarantee I will be satisfied with just that. And if you decide you might want to try out toys then together we can decide what toys you might enjoy. There will never be punishments," He promises.
"Okay…you might have a lot of teaching to do," I say giggling.
"I don't think it's so much about teaching as about talking," he explains. "We will just discuss what you have enjoyed with your previous sexual partners and what you didn't enjoy. From there we will see how to expand on what you did enjoy."
"Christian, that's just it," I say. "I haven't had any sexual partners before, I have no frame of reference for any conversation we are likely to have."
"Wait…what?" He asks stunned. "What do you mean you haven't had any sexual partners before?"
"Christian, I'm a virgin" I answer.