Chapter 28 Purgatory Part 2 - Darkest Before Dawn

“The fuck you will. I sure as hell didn't request a home visit from you, so I'm not paying any extra charge,” I retort, as Taylor and Gail beat a hasty retreat from the kitchen to leave us alone. John and I fall naturally into our easy banter. I like his quirky, no nonsense, British sense of humor.

“Well, we can quibble over the details of my bill later, but seeing as I'm here now, why don't you tell me what’s been going on with you, Christian,” Flynn replies, in his usual seemingly laid back manner, although  I can tell he’s furtively watching me very closely.

“I’m guessing Taylor or Gail called you, which was entirely unnecessary.”

“Yes, they did. And who can blame them, when Taylor noticed via the security CCTV that you were leaning right over the edge of the balcony, especially when he realized that you were covered in blood. He said he's never seen you out there before in all the time he's worked for you, so it was a clear departure from your normal behavior pattern. Christian, you are renowned for your volatile nature, and Taylor knew you’d already been behaving erratically earlier today, due to an unwelcome development in your personal life. It’s his job to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”

“It’s not how it looks, John. Jeez, I wasn’t thinking about killing myself, if that’s what you’re all thinking.” Or was I? Shit no, even I'm not that screwed up. Am I?

“No? Well then, do you mind telling me what was going through your mind when you were leaning over the edge? And why exactly are you covered in blood?”

“I cut my hand on some broken glass, that’s all, and I didn’t notice because they're only tiny cuts which didn't hurt, but it seems they bled like fuckers. And I just stepped outside onto the balcony to get some fresh air, to clear my head, and as I don't go out there very often, I was contemplating the view.”

“But what were you thinking about? What was going through your mind?”

“You want to know the honest truth? Living up here on the top floor of Escala as I do, sometimes I get to thinking about all those poor souls who were trapped on the top floors of the twin towers on 9/11. Haven't you ever wondered what you would have done, if it had been you? Would you have jumped and experienced a fleeting sense of freedom as you flew to a certain death, or would you have remained in the building, knowing there was no escape from the purgatory raging below?”

“Those are rather morbid thoughts, Christian, I must say. So, what would you have chosen to do?”

“I can never make up my mind for sure, but I think probably I’d take control of my destiny and jump.”

“And were you tempted to jump, just now? Did you experience any kind of a compelling impulsive urge to jump, maybe even just for a fleeting second, as a solution to the angst you’re currently experiencing?”

“Shit, no! I’m not Leila, for Christ’s sake.”

“Ah yes, the ex-submissive you rang me about last week. Any news on her?”

“No. She seems to have gone to earth.”

“I see. Well, I think it best for now if we just concentrate on you, so I suggest you tell me what happened between you and Anastasia that led to the break-up of your relationship. That is the situation as I understand it?”

“Yes. Anastasia’s left me.” 

Saying the words out loud makes them seem even more final somehow, and indescribable pain washes over me again and my chest tightens up. I close my eyes and take a deep breath to continue. 

“I hit her. With a belt. Six times. She asked me to show her how bad it could be, so I did. She couldn’t take it. No, that’s not true, she did take it because she never safe-worded on me, but then she said she’d never let me do it again. She said she can't be what I need, and I can't give her what she wants. So she left me.”

“I thought you had planned to introduce her very gradually to the more extreme aspects of your BDSM lifestyle. What changed your mind?”

“Ana suggested it. She offered to let me punish her, even though it really scares her,  hoping that maybe then I would let her touch me, which obviously you know I have major problems with and never allow. Elena had already urged me not to hold back, and because Anastasia needed to know the truth about me sooner rather than later, I decided it was as good a time as any to show her the real me.”

“I see. And so you just launched right in, you went straight ahead and took Elena’s advice, despite the fact that there was a very real chance that such an experience would prove to be too much for an inexperienced girl like Anastasia. You surely knew that she had no real idea of what she was letting herself in for, although of course you did?”

“Yes, I suppose so, and yes, I agree in hindsight it was foolish of me. I got carried away.”

“And so do you regret your actions now?”

“Yes and no. I desperately regret losing Anastasia, but the day was always going to come when she had to find out about my needs. Why put it off?”

“So what do you plan to do about the fact that you regret losing her?”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing I can do is there? I am who I am. I have a need to punish, to hurt, and Ana can’t live with that.”

“Let me just ask you, Christian. How are you feeling right now?”

“Fucking shit. In physical pain. Like my whole world just came crashing down around me. Like there’s nothing to look forward to any more. Like there’s no point to anything anymore, and it’s going to be perpetual night now she’s gone.”

“So, basically you are experiencing an existential crisis.”

“I guess so, yes.”

“So, if I said there was a way forward that could potentially solve this crisis, would you be prepared to try it, if it meant that you and Anastasia could possibly get back together and find a way forward?”

“You’re not going to start with all that SFBT shit again are you?”

“As a matter of fact I am, Christian, because Solution Focused Brief Therapy could really work for you, if you would only open up your mind to it, and take it more seriously than you have in the past. It is possible for you to confront your demons and re-think them. Then maybe you could concentrate on where you want to be in the future, and what it would take for you to get there.”

“I’m too fucked up for any of that. I already know what works for me, because it has done for many years.”

“You mean the BDSM lifestyle that Elena introduced you to when you were just fifteen years old? Look, I’m going to be brutally honest about how I see your relationship with this older Dominatrix figure, because I wonder if it has ever occurred to you that things might have turned out differently for you under a more benign influence than hers? That you might be in a different place to where you are right now?”

“What do you mean? I needed a firm hand, and that’s exactly what Elena gave me. She turned me around, stopped me drinking and doing drugs. She saved my life. She even helped me financially when I set up my first business, after I dropped out of Harvard.”

“What if she had seduced you with love and affection instead of extremely harsh physical pain, and loveless, mechanical sex? She understood all about your haphephobia with her inside knowledge from your mother, so no doubt she could have found a loving way to deal with touching you, if she’d been so inclined. As a hormonal fifteen year old boy desperate for sex, I'm sure she could have offered you other incentives to have got you to stop drinking and resist taking drugs. Yet she chose to make you her BDSM submissive slave, even though you were still legally under the age of consent. That says far more about her needs than yours. Let me ask you something. Was her marriage a happy one?”

I snort with derision.

“Hardly. Elena is a very beautiful woman, and Linc, her husband, just saw her as a trophy wife. Most of the time he ignored her. Either that or he beat her. When he eventually found out about our affair, he beat her to a pulp, broke her jaw, her left arm and four of her ribs. So no, it wasn’t a happy marriage.”

“Any idea why she married him in the first place?”

“I think she was pretty young when they got married. Linc was rich and powerful, so he presented a solution for her, because she was desperate to get away from her father…” I pause, as I think I see where he’s going with this.

“Let me guess. Elena’s father was abusive towards her, and so to try and escape, she rushed into what turned out to be another abusive relationship with her husband. And then she in turn physically and mentally abused you, an extremely vulnerable fifteen year old boy, harshly caning and whipping you right from the very beginning of your relationship, even though I believe this is not normally considered acceptable behavior in the BDSM community. And so, over a long period, she has influenced you to such an extent that now you believe it only possible for you to enjoy very extreme BDSM sexual relationships. Ones that you have to keep secret from your family and friends, meaning that she is virtually your only confidante, enabling her to continue to manipulate you, even after all these years. Can’t you see this?”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I admit. But Elena is my only true friend – isn’t she?

“Christian, surely you can see that what we have here is an on-going cycle of violence and abuse. Don't you think that maybe it’s time to try and break that cycle, now that you have met and fallen in love with a girl who is not into that lifestyle? A loving relationship with Anastasia offers you a fresh start, a whole new future, if you can just be brave enough to confront your issues, instead of blindly accepting them and stubbornly refusing to even consider other options.”

“I’m just too fucked up, John, it’s too late. You know why I do what I do with little brown haired girls, the anger and rage I have that needs channeling.” Fifty Shades.

“That’s just bullshit, Christian. It’s never too late for anyone to change if they really want to, and you are still a young man in his twenties. I really think this is one of the areas you need to confront, however painful it maybe for you. It’s about time you tried to find a way to forgive your birth mother, to let the anger go. There must have been reasons why she ended up the way she did. You may be judging her unfairly, because you were just four years of age when she died, so you have no understanding of the background to explain any of it, to make sense of it.”

“Well, none of that really matters now does it? Ana’s broken up with me, so it’s too late to fix things with her anyway.” There’s no going back now – is there?

“Not necessarily. How did things end between you? Was she angry, or sad or upset? Did she want you to try to work things out?”

“She was all of those things. She cried all night. She said she didn’t want to go. She was sweet and tender and loving at first when we talked… and then she was cold and distant when she walked out, she wouldn’t even let me touch her.” 

My voice breaks as I think about those last few hours we spent together, how I wish it could have been different, but it can’t. Can it?

“Sounds to me as if she has very deep feelings for you.”

“She said she loved me,” I whisper, as I swallow hard and cover my eyes with my hands, trying to cope with saying those words out loud. It all feels very raw and tender. Repeating the words we spoke as we lay together in bed for the last time is incredibly painful.

“And did you tell her that you loved her too?” John very gently probes.

“Don’t be so fucking stupid! Of course not. She can’t possibly love me, and I'm sure as hell not capable of love.” Love is for other people – not me. Or is it?

“Oh Christian, why on earth do you imagine you’re feeling the way you do, if it’s not because you are very capable indeed of giving and receiving love? Do you imagine for one moment that the depth of anguish you’re feeling right now is down to anything other than the fact that you are deeply in love with Anastasia? You have to get over your morbid self-abhorrence and accept that you are capable of both giving and receiving love.”

I look at him skeptically.

“She deserves a better man than me,” I mutter.

“Let’s turn this around then, shall we? You mentioned to me before that you're concerned that Anastasia has low self-esteem and confidence issues; that she doesn’t always take care of herself properly, or eat as well as she maybe ought to?”

“Yes, I do have concerns about her actually. She seems to prefer to take care of other people, like her stepdad or her mom, instead of herself. ”

“Well, maybe she needs you to look after her and take care of her, just as much as I believe you need her to help you develop a normal, happy, loving relationship, to be the man you could so easily be, if you would just let yourself try. This is what a good partnership between a man and a woman is all about; caring for each other, understanding each other’s strengths and weaknesses. She could be your salvation; equally you could be hers.”

“Maybe, I suppose when you put it like that,” I tentatively agree. Is this even possible?

“And from what you told me last time, you and Anastasia are very compatible sexually. It's only the very extreme aspects of your lifestyle that pose a problem to her.”

“The punishments. She can't get her head around the fact that I want to hurt her. So it was really brave of her to agree to let me hit her. Ana’s never experienced any kind of corporal punishment before, so I was trying to prove to her that her fear makes the pain seem worse in her head than in reality, and I’d not give her anything that I didn't think she could handle for me.”

“For most people, any pain at all is not acceptable, Christian,” John quietly reminds me. “This is where Elena’s influence about what is normal and acceptable is what I would question. Does Anastasia know about Elena?”

“Oh yes. She calls her Mrs. Robinson. Oh, and Mrs. Pedo.”

“The more I hear about your Anastasia, the more I like the sound of her. I’d really love to meet her, so you’d better get on and sort this mess out,” John chuckles.

“Yeah, you’d really love her. My family all love her, my mom especially. I'm not looking forward to breaking the news to them that we’ve split up,” I sigh.

“Don't rush into telling them yet. All is not lost. Look, from what you’ve told me, the only thing standing in the way of you and Anastasia having a relationship is your need to punish and hurt her. The reason she wants to be able to touch you is because she loves you and wants to be able to show you affection, which is a positive thing, not negative as you seem to think. You’ve told me the break up is causing you extreme physical and mental anguish, but you could fix this. You’ve come to a very important crossroads in your life, and you have a very simple choice to make – the solution lies entirely in your own hands. You can stubbornly refuse to change or adapt in any way, just carry on exactly as you are, as you have been up to now, but without Anastasia in your life and live with the pain this causes you. Or, you could be really brave, open up your mind to make some positive changes in your attitudes and lifestyle choices, and try to win her back. It’s entirely up to you, Christian.”

“You really think it’s possible? I mean, she’s broken off all communication with me, she even refused to take those with her, stubborn and challenging woman that she is.” I point to the MacBook and her cell that are still sitting on the worktop.

“Oh come on Christian, I don't think those minor obstacles would present any kind of a problem to a man with your considerable resources. But first of all, you have to decide which option you’re going for. There is no point whatsoever in trying to open any kind of communication with Anastasia, unless you have something new to offer her, as she has made it quite plain the arrangement that you originally proposed is not acceptable to her. And let me tell you that she is not being unreasonable, however much Elena might try to convince you otherwise.”

“I don't know. I’m not sure it would be fair on her. Maybe it’s best I just let her go,” I sigh, as I run my hand through my hair in confusion.

“So you would happily just sit back and let another man step into your place?” John challenges, knowing full well my possessive and jealous nature.

Just the thought of any other man touching Ana, kissing her, taking her, taking what is mine fills me with rage and fury. The thought of another man having her is like a knife twisting in my heart. I know José fucking Rodriquez is just waiting in the side-lines, ready to get into Ana’s panties first chance he gets. And she’s so naïve, she still thinks he’s her friend. 

And then there’s that Ethan guy, Kate’s brother, I could tell he was really into her, the way he had his arm around her at the graduation ceremony. And he’s got the perfect excuse to hang around her as Ana’s best friends with his sister. 

Then there are all the guys she’ll meet when she starts her new job, they’ll all be tripping over themselves to get a piece of her. She won’t be on her own for long, that’s obvious.

“No,” I growl at John. “I can't let that happen. I’d kill any fucker who went near her.”

“Then I suggest you give some very serious thought to what I've suggested as a solution to your dilemma. Right, I think we’ve gone about as far as we can for now, you need time to think through everything I’ve said, so I’m going to leave you now. I want you to take some time out to really think very hard about where you see your life heading from now on, and how you could adapt to include Anastasia in that life. I’ll call round again tomorrow morning, then you can tell me how you’re progressing.”

“Sorry your weekend’s been disturbed, John, and you really don't need to call by tomorrow. Taylor overreacted today, and he overstepped his duties.”

“No, Christian, Taylor was just doing his job.  He couldn’t afford to hesitate or take a chance once he’d assessed what he saw as a potentially dangerous and life threatening situation. And actually, as it turned out I was glad for an excuse to escape from home to be honest with you – Rhian’s mother is visiting.” He grimaces at me. “And I will call in tomorrow, because you still owe me a tour of your apartment. I think I need to see inside your playroom, after everything I’ve heard about it. Also, it’ll help me to understand what Anastasia must have felt when she walked in there for the first time.”

“You’re just looking to bump up your bill, you’re up to your old tricks again, John. But okay, I’ll show you round my playroom tomorrow if you want, and who knows, it might help you to discover your inner Dominant. It’s there in most men, even if it’s hidden deep down.”

“Very deep down in my case. But all joking aside, you know you can ring me at any time, Christian. Oh, and if you don't want to give Taylor a heart attack or send him prematurely gray, I suggest you stay away from broken glass and your balcony area for now,” he says wryly, as we head towards the lobby and shake hands.

Taylor, alerted by the CCTV camera trained on the doorway, comes out to escort him. I notice he actually goes down in the elevator with him, no doubt to try and get the inside track on his fucked up employer that he’s stuck babysitting. 

Hopefully Flynn will reassure Taylor that I’m not as Looney tunes as he thought I might be, and he can get back to being his usual impassive self. Then we’ll both feel a hell of a lot more comfortable around each other. 

The strong silent type is so much more him, rather than Oprah fucking Winfrey.

~~~

By early afternoon I’m sat in my office, having eaten the sub roll Gail insisted on making for me for lunch. She and Taylor appear to be making themselves busy, but they’re both still hanging around the apartment. 

I think Taylor’s dropped from DEFCON1 to maybe a DEFCON2 or 3, having probably already secretly done a sweep of my study, maybe even the whole apartment, to check for potential suicide risks. I figure that’s why Gail is still in the kitchen, to guard the knives, I joke to myself. Is it a joke though? Don't they have anything better to do?

On my desk in front of me I have Anastasia’s MacBook, her cell, the car keys, and the Blanik glider model kit with her little handwritten note to me. I open my desk drawer, and take out the Cartier box that contains the diamond earrings I was going to give her to wear tonight.

I’ve got my cell back from Taylor now, so I call Andrea.

“Make my apologies for tonight’s fund raiser.” I can't face the idea of going to it now. I go to so many of these things I can't even remember what this one is for.

“Oh, right Mr. Grey. But I thought you were going with Miss Steele… I did confirm the details with you…” Yes I know, about three fucking times.

“Just fucking do it, Andrea. Neither of us will be attending. I’m sure you can come up with some plausible excuse.” I slam the phone back down on the desk, having no wish to explain anything further to her.

Next, I check the updates from Ana’s surveillance team. I know she’ll be on her own, because Kate’s away on vacation in Barbados now. They report that Ana hasn’t left the apartment since Taylor dropped her back. She’s probably sleeping, as neither of us slept at all last night, and she needs a lot more sleep than I do. 

I hope she’s eaten something, although I suspect she probably hasn’t. I wonder if she has sufficient supplies. Perhaps I could get something sent over to her. No, the way she was acting when she left, she’d probably throw it over whoever delivered it.

I open the Cartier box to look at the diamond drop earrings. I’m pleased with how my design turned out; they made a good job of them. I was really looking forward to seeing Anastasia wearing them, to seeing her all dressed up, wearing a beautiful gown, and walking into the fund raiser on my arm. 

She would have made the evening fun, instead of interminably boring as usual. That sums up what Ana did for my whole life really. In such a short time, she made it fun instead of boring, she made my life worth living. Like I told her, she breathed new life into me. She swept away the boredom. 

But now – nothing. Back to the ennui that has plagued my life for as long as I can remember.

I snap the box shut and put in back in the drawer. How am I going to get through this?  Is what John suggested possible? It all comes down to a simple choice, as far as he’s concerned. I can have Anastasia, or I can have my BDSM punishment kicks, but I can't have both. 

So basically, I have to choose between them. I was kidding myself before if I thought I could persuade Ana to accept my needs, and the way he explained it, all that would be doing was perpetuating a cycle of violence and abuse. I’d be her abuser, and she shouldn’t be sucked into that kind of life just for me, should she? 

But am I a strong enough man to be able to give up that side of things when it’s all I've known for so long?

My cell buzzes. I see that it’s Elena calling, and I answer it.

“Christian darling, how are you?”

“Oh you know, could be better,” I sigh.

“What do you mean, ‘could be better’? I thought I’d call you to see how your trip to Georgia went. Was the young lady pleased to see you? How are things progressing with her training?”

“We broke up, Elena,” I whisper. Each time I have to say it out loud, I think my chest is going to explode from the pressure I feel as my heart lurches painfully.

“Oh no, Christian, why? What went wrong? You said things were going so well between you,” Elena sounds shocked.

“I did like you said. I showed her how bad it could be, and it was too much for her. So she left me.” I don't need to explain any details to her; she knows what I will have done, although by her standards she’d think I’d been very easy on Ana.

“What a shame for you, although I can't say I'm that surprised, to be honest. This is what happens when you pick a girl who’s not already into the scene I suppose. Well, at least you found out before things went too far, although when I spoke to your mother recently, I gather this girl had met your family already, which surprised me.”

“Anastasia. Her name is Anastasia. And yes, she met my family. My mom really likes her.”

“You never normally introduce your sub to your family, and now I expect you regret taking this… Anastasia home. It just makes things messy and complicated. Of course your mother has no idea of the type of woman you really require to be able to cope with your needs, does she? Perhaps now you’ve got this girl out of your system, we can get you sorted out with a more suitable new submissive, and things will soon settle down again for you.”

“Anastasia was much more than just a sub. She was my girlfriend. I haven't ‘got her out of my system’ and I don't want a fucking new sub. I want Anastasia. Just her,” I shout at Elena.

“Christian! Calm down. This is exactly what I feared would happen when you’re not having your needs taken care of appropriately. Your frustration gets the better of you, and makes you wild and unreasonable.”

Flynn's words from earlier today come back to me. He’s made me curious.

“Why did you make me your submissive, Elena? You know, when I was that fifteen year old boy in your back yard? What did you get out of it?”

“I saw great potential in you. I knew what would work for you; I knew exactly what you needed – a very firm hand to set you straight.  And I was right, wasn’t I? Look at you now, one of the richest, most successful young men in America, and yet you could have so easily ended up in the morgue, the way you were headed, if I hadn’t stepped in when I did.”

“Yes, but what about you personally. What did you get out of it? How did you get into the scene in the first place?” I persist. I’ve never really questioned her about this, I've just accepted it, but Flynn has got me wondering now.

“Whatever has brought all this on? You know I've never gone in for all that hearts and flowers rubbish. I worked out early on in life that nobody ever really means it, it’s pathetic and it’s not reality. Sexual needs and desires – now they are the reality. That’s how our bodies are designed, and the more you understand your body and how to maximize your pleasure, the better things are. No messy complications. And I had my sexual needs, which Linc soon lost interest in fulfilling. So I went looking for other ways to have my needs met. And just as you eventually discovered your dominant nature, so did I. So when I heard all about you from your mother, all the problems she was having with you, I was intrigued. I like a challenge, and when I met you in my yard, I just knew that it would work perfectly for both of us if I took control of you.”

“So you’ve never been in love?” I ask.

“Don’t be so ridiculous, of course not. Oh, wait a minute. Don't tell me you actually imagine yourself in love with this girl, this Anastasia, do you Christian?”

“That’s what Flynn figures. He says that’s why it hurts so fucking bad now Anastasia’s left me, because I’m in love with her. Elena, I’m dying here, I'm in sheer fucking agony, because there’s just a big gaping hole in my life now. All I know is I really want her back, and I'm thinking maybe I’ll do whatever it takes; you know, not expect her to have to do everything I like. I’ll try and manage without some of the really heavy shit. ”

I'm tentatively running this by Elena, to see if she thinks I can do it. I wait for her reaction, although I’m pretty certain what it will be.

“Christian, this is just a case of you wanting what you can't have. Never mind what that quack Flynn tells you, he’s just a stuck up British nobody, the latest in a long line of shrinks wanting to cash in on you with their latest theory. Like the SFBT. Maybe she has a point. I really don’t know why you bother with him; he doesn’t know you like I do. You know how you like the thrill of the chase with all your business deals, and this is no different. You’d be bored rigid in a vanilla relationship within a few weeks, and then you’d be frustrated and angry again. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about here. I know you better than anyone else, don't forget, even your mother.”

Is Elena manipulating me here? Why is she so adamant that I can’t possibly try to work things out with Anastasia? John seemed so positive that it was at least worth trying. Now I'm really confused again.

“I don’t know, Elena. I think I just need some time to try and work things out in my head, you know?”

“Okay, but I trust you’ll soon come to your senses. Just think about all the things that you like doing best, and how a good submissive will comply to give you exactly what you need. Maybe in a couple of days, we can start selecting one for you. Then we'll soon have you sorted out and back to your old self again. Cool, calm and in control.”

“Good bye, Elena.” I can’t stand to hear any more of her talk about a new submissive, so I finish our call.

~~~

Do I really want to be my old self again? Or do I want to try for a whole new me, one that just might be acceptable to Anastasia? That is the question I think about as I put together the model of the Blanik L23 during Saturday afternoon.

I have the music from my iPod set on shuffle as I work, and today so many tracks seem to hold a message for me. The Morgan Taylor Reid track ‘Where Do I Even Start?’ The Script ‘Breakeven’. ‘Iris’ by The Goo Goo Dolls. And then the Michael Buble track – ‘You’ll Never Find Another love Like Mine.’ I guess emotional turmoil helps people write great music tracks.

It’s a very fiddly job putting the small pieces of the model together, especially with the band-aids I have on my fingers due to the cuts from the broken glass. But that’s good, because it means I have to concentrate. I want to get it right, firstly because I am a perfectionist, and secondly because it is a precious gift from Anastasia to me. A reminder of a happy time. I have her note propped up on my desk.

This reminded me of a happy time.

Thank you.

Ana

I'm a loner, not a team player, confirmed only too painfully for me by my experience on the rowing team at Harvard, where I soon ended up rowing solo after fighting with the other team members when they behaved like dicks. 

But I discovered that it was so much more fun for me when I shared the glider flight with Ana, rather than going solo. I’ve always been a very solitary person, happiest in my own company, but it turns out I’d really like to have more days like that with her.

Sharing. What’s the point of everything I have, all the money and possessions, if I don't have someone special to share them with? Someone deserving, like Anastasia. Priceless works of art hang on my walls. I have my own helicopter and private jet. Sports cars. A Penthouse suite here in Seattle, homes in New York and Aspen. 

And yet this little model glider that cost just a few dollars means the world to me, because of who gave it to me. Once I’ve completed it, I clip it onto its stand and leave it on my desk in pride of place to admire. I love it.

 I would email her to say thank you, and start one of our witty email conversations that always make me smile, but of course with her MacBook right here in front of me, it would be pointless. I miss this contact, I love her sense of humor, but I guess she wouldn’t want to hear from me anyway. Maybe it is too late for us to try again, even if I do what Flynn suggests and make her a new offer. Maybe Elena is right, maybe I should forget about her and move on, take a new sub. But I just can't.

Then I hear Ana’s cell buzz, and when I look, I see she has a new text message. I’m guessing she’s forgotten that all her calls and messages are being forwarded to this phone. She is pretty hopeless about things like that.

I look to see who the message is from. Kate.

Having gr8 time here. Hope ur OK. Don't let obscenely rich bastard grind u down. Give him swift kick in nuts from me if he is. Kate.

Typical Kate. I think she would want to give me more than a swift kick in the nuts if she knew about the punishment beating I gave Ana in my playroom last night. It's alright, Kate, Ana ripped out my heart instead. 

I wonder how long it will be before Ana realizes she’s not getting any calls or messages through. Well, until she does, I can monitor them. Her phone is nearly dead, so I put it on charge.

The surveillance team have sat outside her apartment all day, and report that no one has been in or out at all. I begin to worry and order them to find some pretext to get her to come to the door, to make sure nothing has happened to her.  

They report back that they got her to come to the door by pretending to have a delivery for her, and that she gave them short shrift when it was the wrong address. I can’t see her very well in the footage they took, but it looks like she’s in her old PJ’s, and at least she seems okay. Good.

Gail makes me macaroni and cheese for my supper. She knows this is one of my favorites and often makes it for me. I have no appetite, but I eat it to please her, then I order her to go back to her own living area.

“Please. You have already exceeded your duties. I'm just going to be working in my study for a while, and then I shall go to bed. I insist.”

“If you’re sure, Mr. Grey. But if there is anything, anything at all you need, please don't hesitate to call me down. How are your hands now, sir?”

“My hands? Oh you mean the cuts?” I look down at them. “They’re fine. Thank you for dressing them. It was very careless of me, and I apologize if I alarmed you and Taylor unnecessarily. It was all just a misunderstanding,” I try to reassure her. By the doubtful look in her eye I can see she is not convinced, and reluctantly heads off to her living area. 

Taylor is in his office as usual. I saw him adjusting the angles of some of the CCTV cameras earlier, under the pretext of ‘regular maintenance’. I suspect he is trying to monitor me more closely. Back to DEFCON1 it is then. 

If this carries on, I am going to have to order him to back right off, because he will do my fucking head in, even if he is just doing his job. Doing it too fucking well, that’s the trouble.

Back in my study, I see there is a mountain of work that has built up when I check my laptop. A few emails can be dealt with quickly. I forward quite a few on to Ros to handle. I expect she’ll wonder why, but she’s more than capable of dealing with them – that’s why she’s my second in command.

Anything relating to the takeover of SIP I handle personally. Whatever happens between Anastasia and myself, I will continue to monitor every aspect of her life, to ensure her safety and well-being. That’s what stalkers do. And control freaks. So naturally I’ll be covering everything twice over as I’m both.

~~~

I put off going to bed as long as possible, knowing that my bed is going to seem empty and too large. I go into Anastasia’s room, and lie down on the bed we shared last night. I bury my nose in her pillow to try and catch the last remnants of her special sweet scent. I managed to stop Gail from changing the bedding in here just in time earlier. She gave me a funny look, but did as instructed and left the bed alone. 

The arnica and Advil are still on the night stand next to the bed. Ana never took the tablets or let me massage her with the arnica. I hope she’s not in too much pain today. Physical or mental pain. She seemed so cold and distant when she walked out, as if she was already shutting me out of her life. She said it was to protect herself, and she wouldn’t even let me touch her. I couldn’t help thinking and hoping that maybe if I could hold her in my arms again just one more time, maybe she would come round, and maybe somehow we could fix things. 

But really, I knew it was impossible. Now I can't hold her again, ever. Not unless I can change for her. And I'm not sure that is even possible. I found her bathrobe earlier, and I’ve got that in here with me, as I can smell her scent on that too. The best scent in the whole world. Anastasia.

Obviously I’m going to miss the great sex between us, but if you ask me what I'm going to miss the most, it would unquestionably have to be sleeping next to Anastasia, and waking up next to her. Ironic really, as I always thought it would be impossible for me to share a bed with anyone; that I would always sleep better on my own. It came as a real shock for me to discover that I always sleep far better with Anastasia next to me. 

Maybe it’s because I'm really tired, not having slept at all last night, or maybe it’s the calming effect that Anastasia’s scent always has on me, but I fall into a deep sleep in her bed. For a few blissful hours, I escape from the world. But then it starts as it always does.

“Where are you, you little shit? I’ve got something special for you. Come out and see. It's no good hiding under there, you’ll just make the punishment worse for yourself if I have to drag you out.” 

I can see he’s got the belt in his hand.  His favorite tan leather belt with the big buckle. He drags me out. I’m wearing just a pair of dirty old shorts, and the blows start raining down on my bare back, the leather cutting painfully into my skin. 

He reeks of cheap bourbon and tobacco. When he’s finally done beating me, he lights up a cigarette, and as I lie on my back on the floor whimpering, he rests his boot down on top of me to keep me in place. 

He slowly smokes his cigarette, taking his time, as a cruel little smile plays around his mouth. When he’s finished, I watch in horror as he brings the glowing end of his cigarette butt towards me. He slowly stubs it out on my chest, laughing as I scream in agony. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my mommy sitting huddled up in the corner, completely out of it. I try reaching out to her, for her to help me, but she just stares blindly at me in her drug induced stupor. I scream out to her, begging her to help me….

I wake up drenched in sweat, woken by my own screaming. As I sit up in bed, I see Taylor in the doorway.

“It’s okay. Just one of my nightmares,” I explain. He knows only too well about these, and doesn’t usually come in to check on me these days, but obviously DEFCON1 includes checking on the boss when he’s having a nightmare. “Really. Just leave me. Please.” He slowly walks away, shaking his head.

I reach over to Ana’s side of the bed, but of course she’s not there. I try desperately to smell her on the pillow, but I can’t find her scent any more, it seems to have vanished now. The pain and grief I feel is overwhelming and unbearable. That’s when I feel the tears start. 

She’s really gone. I’ve lost her. She’s left me. I sob into the pillow, just as she did yesterday. The tears stream unchecked down my face, as the sobs wrack my body. The emotional flood gates are finally opening up to release the hurt and pain and loss that I’ve kept so tightly locked away for so many years. I find letting go like this cathartic, but also immensely painful, and I’m glad no one is here to see me like this.

And then it suddenly hits me, with a sickening jolt. The belt I instinctively chose to use for her punishment. The belt that I hit Anastasia with yesterday. 

It’s the same as the one in my dream, the belt that he always beat me with. I’ve turned into him. I'm as sick as he is. That’s how she felt when I beat her yesterday. Scared and in pain, just as I did when I was that little boy having the shit beaten out of me.

My sick shit is even worse than I’d realized. 

This is wrong. This has to stop. Flynn is right. 

This cycle of violence and abuse has to end. Somehow I have to find the strength to fight my addiction to inflicting painful punishments, just as an alcoholic has to fight his addiction to drink. 

And I have to hope and pray that I can somehow convince Anastasia to forgive me and give me another chance.

I don’t own any of the Fifty Shades Trilogy or the characters therein. They belong to E L James. I’m just borrowing them for fun and not for profit. Please refer to the Legal’s page for further details. This work is not to be copied or reproduced in any way without permission. 

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