Chapter Fifteen #2
Does the Submissive consent to the use of:
Vibrators
Butt plugs
Dildos
Other vaginal/anal toys
“Butt plug? Does it do what it says on the box?” I scrunch my nose up in distaste.
“Yes.” He smiles. “And I refer to anal intercourse above. Training.”
“Oh. What’s in ‘other’?”
“Beads, eggs, that sort of stuff.”
“Eggs?” I’m alarmed.
“Not real eggs.” He laughs loudly, shaking his head.
I purse my lips at him. “I’m glad you find me funny.” I can’t keep my injured feelings out of my voice.
He stops laughing. “I apologize. I’m sorry,” he says, trying to look contrite, but his eyes are still dancing with humor. “Any problem with toys?”
“No,” I snap.
“Anastasia, I’m sorry,” he cajoles. “Believe me. I don’t mean to laugh. I’ve never had this conversation in so much detail. You’re just so inexperienced. I’m sorry.” His eyes are big and gray and sincere.
I thaw a little and take another sip of champagne.
“Right—bondage,” he says, returning to the list.
I examine the list, and my inner goddess bounces up and down like a small child waiting for ice cream.
Does the Submissive consent to:
Bondage with rope
Bondage with leather cuffs
Bondage with handcuffs/shackles/manacles
Bondage with tape
Bondage with other
Christian raises his eyebrow. “Well?”
“Fine,” I whisper and quickly look back at the list.
Does the Submissive consent to be restrained with:
Hands bound in front
Ankles bound
Elbows bound
Hands bound behind back
Knees bound
Wrists bound to ankles
Binding to fixed items, furniture, etc.
Binding with spreader bar
Suspension
Does the Submissive consent to be blindfolded?
Does the Submissive consent to be gagged?
“We’ve talked about suspension. And it’s fine if you want to set that as a hard limit. It takes a great deal of time, and I only have you for short periods anyway. Anything else?”
“Don’t laugh at me, but what’s a spreader bar?”
“I promise not to laugh. I’ve apologized twice.” He glares at me. “Don’t make me do it again,” he warns. And I think I visibly shrink… Oh, he’s so bossy. “A spreader is a bar with cuffs for ankles and/or wrists. They’re fun.”
“Okay. Well, gagging me. I’d be worried I wouldn’t be able to breathe.”
“I’d be worried if you couldn’t breathe. I don’t want to suffocate you.”
“And how will I use safe words if I’m gagged?”
He pauses. “First of all, I hope you never have to use them. But if you’re gagged, we’ll use hand signals,” he says simply.
I blink up at him. But if I’m trussed up, how’s that going to work? My brain is beginning to fog… Hmm, alcohol. “I’m nervous about the gagging.”
“Okay. I’ll take note.”
I stare up at him, realization dawning. “Do you like tying your submissives up so they can’t touch you?”
He gazes at me, his eyes widening. “That’s one of the reasons,” he says quietly.
“Is that why you’ve tied my hands?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t like talking about that.”
“No, I don’t. Would you like another drink? It’s making you brave, and I need to know how you feel about pain.”
Holy crap, this is the tricky part. He refills my teacup, and I sip.
“So, what’s your general attitude to receiving pain?” Christian looks expectantly at me. “You’re biting your lip,” he says darkly.
I stop immediately, but I don’t know what to say. I flush and stare down at my hands.
“Were you physically punished as a child?”
“No.”
“So you have no sphere of reference at all?”
“No.”
“It’s not as bad as you think. Your imagination is your worst enemy in this,” he says.
“Do you have to do it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Goes with the territory, Anastasia. It’s what I do. I can see you’re nervous. Let’s go through methods.”
He shows me the list. My subconscious runs, screaming, and hides behind the couch.
Spanking
Whipping
Biting
Genital clamps
Hot wax
Paddling
Caning
Nipple clamps
Ice
Other types/methods of pain
“Well, you said no to genital clamps. That’s fine. It’s caning that hurts the most.”
I blanch.
“We can work up to that.”
“Or not do it at all,” I whisper.
“This is part of the deal, baby, but we’ll work up to all of this. Anastasia, I won’t push you too far.”
“This punishment thing, it worries me the most.” My voice is very small.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve told me. We’ll keep caning off the list for now. And as you get more comfortable with everything else, we’ll increase intensity. We’ll take it slow.”
I swallow, and he leans forward and kisses me on my lips.
“There, that wasn’t so bad was it?”
I shrug, my heart in mouth again.
“Look, I want to talk about one more thing, then I’m taking you to bed.”
“Bed?” I blink rapidly, and my blood pounds through my body, warming places I didn’t know existed until very recently.
“Come on, Anastasia, talking through all this, I want to fuck you into next week, right now. It must be having some effect on you, too.”
I squirm. My inner goddess is panting.
“See? Besides, there’s something I want to try.”
“Something painful?”
“No—stop seeing pain everywhere. It’s mainly pleasure. Have I hurt you yet?”
I flush. “No.”
“Well then. Look, earlier today you were talking about wanting more,” he halts, uncertain all of a sudden.
Oh my…where’s this going?
He clasps my hand. “Outside of the time you’re my sub, perhaps we could try. I don’t know if it will work. I don’t know about separating everything. It may not work. But I’m willing to try. Maybe one night a week. I don’t know.”
Holy cow… My mouth drops open. My subconscious is in shock. Christian Grey is up for more! He’s willing to try! My subconscious peeks out from behind the couch, still registering shock on her harpy face.
“I have one condition.” He looks warily at my stunned expression.
“What?” Anything. I’ll give you anything.
“You graciously accept my graduation present to you.”
“Oh.” And deep down I know what it is. Dread spawns in my gut.
He’s staring down at me, gauging my reaction. “Come,” he murmurs and rises, dragging me up. Taking his jacket off, he drapes it over my shoulders and heads for the door.
Parked outside is a red hatchback car, a two-door compact Audi.
“It’s for you. Happy graduation.” He pulls me into his arms and kisses my hair.
He’s bought me a damned car, brand-new by the looks of it.
Jeez…I’ve had enough trouble with the books.
I stare at it blankly, trying desperately to determine how I feel about this.
I am appalled on one level, grateful on another, shocked that he’s actually done it, but the overriding emotion is anger.
Yes, I’m angry, especially after everything I told him about the books…
but then he’d already bought this. Taking my hand, he leads me down the path toward this new acquisition.
“Anastasia, that Beetle of yours is old and, frankly, dangerous. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you when it’s so easy for me to make it right.”
His eyes are on me, but at the moment I cannot bring myself to look at him. I stand silently staring at its awesome bright-red newness.
“I mentioned it to your stepfather. He was all for it,” he adds.
Turning, I glare at him, my mouth open in horror. “You mentioned this to Ray? How could you?” I can barely spit the words out. How dare he? Poor Ray. I feel sick, mortified for my dad.
“It’s a gift, Anastasia. Can’t you just say thank you?”
“But you know it’s too much.”
“Not to me it isn’t, not for my peace of mind.”
I frown at him, at a loss what to say. He just doesn’t get it!
He’s had money all his life. Okay, not all his life—not as a small child—and my worldview shifts.
The thought is very sobering, and I soften toward the car, feeling guilty about my fit of pique.
His intentions are good, misguided, but not from a bad place.
“I’m happy for you to loan this to me, like the laptop.”
He sighs heavily. “Okay. On loan. Indefinitely.” He looks warily at me.
“No, not indefinitely, but for now. Thank you.”
He frowns.
I reach up and kiss him on his cheek. “Thank you for the car, Sir,” I say as sweetly as I can manage.
He grabs me suddenly and yanks me up against him, one hand at my back holding me to him and the other fisting in my hair.
“You are one challenging woman, Ana Steele.” He kisses me passionately, forcing my lips apart with his tongue, taking no prisoners.
My blood heats immediately, and I’m returning his kiss with my own passion. I want him badly—in spite of the car, the books, the soft limits…the caning… I want him.
“It’s taking all my self-control not to fuck you on the hood of this car right now, just to show you that you are mine, and if I want to buy you a fucking car, I’ll buy you a fucking car,” he growls. “Now let’s get you inside and naked.” He plants a swift rough kiss on me.
Boy, he’s angry. He grabs my hand and leads me back into the apartment and straight into my bedroom…no passing Go. My subconscious is behind the sofa again, head hidden under her hands.
He switches on the sidelight and halts, staring at me.
“Please don’t be angry with me,” I whisper.
His gaze is impassive, his eyes cold shards of smoky glass.
“I’m sorry about the car and the books—”
He remains silent and brooding.
“You scare me when you’re angry.” I stare up at him.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens them, his expression has softened. He takes a deep breath and swallows. “Turn around,” he whispers. “I want to get you out of that dress.”
Another mercurial mood swing; it’s so hard to keep up.
Obediently, I turn, and my heart is thumping, desire instantly replacing unease, coursing through my blood and settling dark and yearning, low, low in my belly.
He scoops my hair off my back so it hangs down my right side, curling at my breast. He places his index finger at the nape of my neck and achingly slowly drags it down my spine, his fingernail grazing my skin.
“I like this dress,” he murmurs. “I like to see your flawless skin.”