Flynn POV

John Flynn sat in his office, eyes closed, lights dimmed, rubbing his temples. He reached for the fine Talisker Scotch he kept in his desk, a gift from his last patient for the day. Ironic really because he didn't usually drink hard liquor, but more often than not, he needed something to calm him after a session with Christian Grey. At this rate he would need a therapist himself. Today was no exception. For an hour, he kept his frustration in check not wanting to alienate him. Christian refused any suggestions for Solution Based Therapy (SBT), touch therapy, or anger management.

He knew that Grey only had one friend, who was really no friend at all. Flynn started working with Christian six years ago and had yet to break through the barrier that kept his troubled patient in chains. In laymen's terms, Christian suffered from a fear of being touched and a fear of abandonment. Those conditions manifested in a rage which on a good day, simmered just below the surface. For nearly two thirds of his life, Christian had been used, abused, and manipulated. The doctor realized early on, that the manipulation was on going, but that was a argument his patient adamantly refused to entertain. In order to break the chains, Christian would have to accept that he was a victim; that he didn't have control over what happened, that he was not inherently a bad person.

His patient hated himself, his birth mother, and the circumstance of his birth. It prevented him from being touched, figuratively and literally. Elena bitch Lincoln was no better than the pimps that abused an innocent child. Christian did not have a close relationship with his family; friends were non existent. As a consequence of his self loathing, he became an island with a sharp and brittle coastline.

In his attempt to control all things, he'd backed himself into a corner. The man was brilliant, having amassed a fortune rivaling the GNP of some countries but emotionally he was still four years old; his temper tantrums were legendary.

Flynn had many concerns, not the least of which was the way and the why Christian practiced BDSM. As a professional therapist, he was more than familiar with alternative sexual preferences. The practice itself was enjoyed by millions of happy, well adjusted people around the world. Christian however, blurred the lines frequently as evidenced by recent list of submissives leaving after only a few weeks. Flynn feared he was escalating. Something changed a few months ago, he just didn't know what. He had taken things too far on more than one occasion; lost in the fantasy of punishing his dead mother. It was only the terms of the contract and his bank account that had saved him so far. When the doctor broached the subject of perhaps observing other couples at private BDSM clubs or talking with other practitioners, Grey stated "This has been my life for nearly fifteen years. I know what I'm doing. I had a great Domme as a teacher. It was good enough for me, it's good enough for them" and stormed out of the office. And THAT was the crux of the problem. Where Grace was his angel, Elena was the second coming.

Flynn's current strategy was to help Christian see the good in himself, that he did indeed have a heart. For the last few sessions, he started planting seeds reminding him of his programs to house and feed the less fortunate, establishing scholarships, building hospital wings, and parks. Hopefully they would flower.

CPOV

Christian Grey considered himself a complicated man. He relished the dichotomy he presented, ruthless businessman versus generous philanthropist. Ruthless abso-fuckin-lutely, generous philanthropist, sort of. He gave to soften the image of his boardroom persona. It was a brilliant tactic. It started when his adoptive mother requested his support for the family foundation Coping Together. He appreciated the effort Grace exerted to aid children and their drug addicted parents but if was a constant reminder of his past. The donation was so well received by the media; companies started clambering to do business with him. Thus, his philanthropy was born with the end result being an increase in his bottom line. He considered the thousands that benefited from housing, educational programs, and the farming initiatives he funded as just good business. He didn't have a heart.

Christian worked hard, long, arduous, days in the office, evenings in the gym, and weekends in his playroom. His employees, some of the best in the world expected to be micro- managed. Therefore they learned to anticipate questions and were thoroughly prepared. God help the poor soul who forgot to cross a T. The rewards were so far above his staffs expectations; a missed birthday or anniversary was readily forgiven. Christian learned long ago, everybody had a price. It was a lesson learned from his birth mother who sold her soul and body for a fix. His employees however were loyal to Christian and GEH because of his fairness, intelligence, liberal compensation, benefits, and paid emergency leave. Again, it was just good business.

The first four years of his life formed who he was today. Somewhere in his toddler mind he knew he would escape his circumstance of living with evil. He knew he would become something great. There had to be something better on the horizon to offset his suffering; kind of like paying it forward. He told himself daily he deserved his wealth and accomplishments. His adoptive family treated him with love and devotion but he never really had time for them; his eye was on the prize. Except….his mother and sister wanted for nothing. The reality that crept into his soul was that he never felt worthy.

Impatient for his real life to begin, he was a sullen, difficult teenager, with raging hormones, unwilling to interact with family or classmates and an inability to be touched. Enter Elena Lincoln. She taught him control. While the lessons had been harsh, the rewards were well worth it. He found release from the sexual tension and rage surging through his veins. Six years later, he turned the tide on her and he topped her from the bottom becoming her Dom. Without explanation, he ended their sexual relationship and moved on to younger, more attractive women.

Christian enjoyed his contractual relationships because he craved control and to reinforce what his birth mother and Elena taught him. All women were whores and would do anything for a price. He was a generous Dom, providing incentives based on the acts his submissives were willing to perform. The more deviant the act, the greater the reward. It was a sliding scale but they were able to keep everything as a parting gift. He refused the notion of "fear of abandonment" as the reason for participating in BDSM and not going a more traditional route. Instead he convinced himself that he was a selfish bastard. It was all about Christian fucking Grey. It was about his pleasure not theirs. Oh he gave as good as he got, but again, as in business, one has to give a little to get a lot. He enjoyed his solitude.

The only time he came close to developing feelings for one of his whores was with Anastasia Steele. He was her first in every way and in some ways she was his. He considered having more traditional relationship with her, one that combined his needs with her wants. Taking her on dates and vacations had been his way of testing the waters and damn if he hadn't enjoyed it. She was different; kind, thoughtful, full of life and innocence, with a quirky sense of humor. Thank goodness he came to his senses and decided to make her a submissive. She was destroying his well ordered world.

Instead, he thought of all the delicious ways he could train a virgin Submissive.

The things Anastasia had allowed him to do to her had a tent growing in his pants at the memory. A virgin submissive, his one and only pet to train for his enjoyment. She was perfect and he felt zero guilt (who was he trying to convince) in using her 'so called love' to his advantage. Elena had done the same for him and look at him now; The Master of his Universe. That's the story he told himself when he allowed her memory to invade his consciousness.

It surprised him and caused him a moment of panic when she ended their relationship and was further shocked when she refused his offer of additional financial incentive to stay. Not only that, but she left everything behind; the car, the electronics, the clothes, the jewelry. She even made a donation to a GEH charity of all the money he gave her. He wanted her to stay because, because, because….he cared for her.

In the wee small hours of the morning when sleep would elude him, sitting at his piano, bourbon in hand, he would remind himself that he didn't need anyone and no one needed him. He would repeat his mantra, 'you are cold bastard of a whore who neither wanted you nor cared for you. No one wants you. You are a monster. You came into this world alone and you will die alone." Damn that Flynn, I am not a good man. There is nothing good in me.

Lately, those words began burn in his chest like the pimps cigarettes against his tender flesh.

February 14, 2016

Ana was feeling like her old self. Cecelia kept her word and they met every Saturday her schedule would permit. She was a Godsend, filling in where Carla left off. Tonight, Luke was coming over for homemade Pizza and cheesecake brownies. Kate and Elliot and Jose and Ethan were enjoying a romantic Valentines evening.

In some ways, Luke saved her or at least held a mirror up to her face. "Ana, do you really think you are the first woman to get more than she bargained for?" She finally got it and accepted responsibility for her actions. She would be forever grateful for the conversation she'd had with Carla. It was the push she needed to get out of that toxic arrangement.

Writing in the journal was an exorcism, casting out the self loathing that consumed her. She vacillated between being angry with Christian and herself. At the end of the day, it was about owning decisions, mistakes, learning from them, and moving on. Period!

Luke burst through the door, all six foot four of him, almost too long blonde hair, green eyes, full of jokes and imported beer. They had become great friends in such a short time. She was initially embarrassed to be in his company. He knew everything and had probably witnessed more than she wanted to think about. Perhaps because he knew everything, she could talk with him in a way that she just couldn't and wouldn't talk with Kate. She appreciated his protective nature, even understanding, sort of, how he'd met Ray. Under different circumstances, it would have been hilarious. She could imagine her Dad sneaking up behind Luke and scaring the shit out of him. It made her heart swell to know she had these two men in her corner.

Luke was never forthcoming about his job. "If I tell you, I'll have to kill you" He said wiggling his eyebrows. He would disappear for days at a time without any warning only to show up unannounced just as mysteriously.

Tonight, they were just two friends enjoying dinner and a movie. They were lounging on the comfortable cushions placed on the floor. "So, Anastasia Rose, what movie are you torturing me with tonight? Is it at least in color?" Ana giggled. She had a penchant for old black and white films, especially Ingrid Bergman. "Tonight Lucas Andrew, you are in for a real treat. Ta Da, Casablanca ". Her eyes shone with mischief and delight.

Luke groaned, "Ana, Ana, can't we at least watch something from the nineties "

Sighing, "Okay Lukie, you can choose the next one". That earned her another groan.

By the end of the movie, Ana was holding his hand, fighting back tears as Bogie and Ingrid said their goodbyes. Whether it was the beer, the wine, or the movie, Ana and Luke instinctively leaned in for a kiss. They both pulled back startled at what had just occurred. For what seemed like an hour or a year, they just stared at each other. Ana broke the silence first. "Well that was like kissing my brother. They fell into a fit of laughter. "I'm wounded" Luke choked out.

She playfully slapped his arm, "can I get you another beer?" Yeah, one more then I need to call it a night. I've been on a plane for 24 hours" Ana raised an eyebrow wanting to ask, but didn't . Are you going to stay here, your room is all set up."?

"Thanks Ana, I do not feel like driving across town", he yawn talked.

Over pancakes and bacon the next morning, Ana contemplated sharing her news with Luke.

"Umm, Luke, I'm thinking about leaving town for a little while". She hurriedly continued, '" I have some vacation time coming and I can work from anywhere really. My authors live all over the country, I can always travel to them" , she paused looking up at him through her lashes.

Luke put down his fork and studied his friend. "Where is this coming from Ana?" Are you sure you want to leave everyone just when you're getting life on track?"

Actually Luke, thanks to you and my other friends, I'm doing great, better than great. I just have a couple of projects in the works. I've been talking with Lucious Fremantle, my mother's estate attorney. It took longer than expected but everything is now settled. I've decided to keep her home. It needs some updating but it is lovely, right on a lake. I'm hoping you'll visit." She didn't mention the investments or the insurance policies. "Also", pausing to make sure he was paying attention, "I'm writing a book and I need to be able to concentrate." She waited for his reaction.

Luke looked up in surprise and then a broad grin graced is face. "Wow, Miss Steele, I am impressed. Is that why you are always scribbling away in that notebook? What's it about?

Now afraid her idea is foolish, "Well, a young, inexperienced woman marries her prince charming and later finds out that she is only there to serve him and to cater to his dark desires. Later, she escapes, and discovers that her husband is part of a secret society and there are other 'wives' held in captivity.

Luke sipped his coffee to cover his smirk "and what pray tell is the name of this master piece?"

Proudly she stated, The Submissives Revenge.