To be discussed and agreed between both parties:
Which of the following sexual acts are acceptable to the Submissive?
• Masturbation
• Fellatio
• Cunnilingus
• Vaginal intercourse
• Vaginal fisting
• Anal intercourse
• Anal fisting
Is swallowing semen acceptable to the Submissive?
Is the use of sex toys acceptable to the Submissive?
• Vibrators
• Dildos
• Butt Plugs
• Other
Is Bondage acceptable to the Submissive?
• Hands in front
• Hands behind back
• Ankles
• Knees
• Elbows
• Wrists to ankles
• Spreader bars
• Tied to furniture
• Blindfolding
• Gagging
• Bondage with Rope
• Bondage with Tape
• Bondage with leather cuffs
• Suspension
• Bondage with handcuffs/metal restraints
What is the Submissive’s general attitude about receiving pain? Where 1 is likes intensely and 5 is dislikes intensely: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5
How much pain does the submissive want to receive? Where 1 is none and 5 is severe: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5
Which of the following types of pain/punishment/discipline are acceptable to the Submissive?
• Spanking
• Paddling
• Whipping
• Caning
• Biting
• Nipple clamps
• Genital clamps
• Ice
• Hot wax
• Other types/methods of pain
Holy Fuck. I can’t bring myself to even consider the food list. I swallow hard, my mouth dry, and read it again.
My head is buzzing. How can I possibly agree to all this? And apparently it’s for my benefit, to explore my sensuality, my limits – safely – oh please! I scoff angrily. Serve and obey in all things. All Things! I shake my head in disbelief. Actually, doesn’t the marriage ceremony use those words… obey? This throws me. Do couples still say that? Only three months, is that why there have been so many? He doesn’t keep them for long? Or have they had enough after three months? Every weekend? That’s too much. I’ll never see Kate or whatever friends I may make at my new job – provided I get one. Perhaps I should have one weekend a month to myself. Perhaps when I have my period, that sounds… practical. He’s my master! To be dealt with as he pleases! Holy shit.
I shudder at the thought of being flogged or whipped. Spanking probably wouldn’t be so bad, humiliating though. And tied up? Well he did tie my hands together. That was… well it was hot, really hot, so perhaps that won’t be so bad. He won’t loan me to another Dominant – damn right he won’t. That would be totally unacceptable. Why am I even thinking about this?
I can’t look him in the eye. How weird is that? The only way I ever have any chance to see what he’s thinking. Actually, whom am I kidding, I never know what he’s thinking, but I like looking into his eyes. He has beautiful eyes – captivating, intelligent, deep and dark, dark with dominant secrets. I recall his burning smoky gaze and press my thighs together, squirming.
And I can’t touch him. Well, no surprise there. And these silly rules… No, no I can’t do this. I put my head in my hands. This is no way to have a relationship. I need some sleep. I’m shattered. All the physical shenanigans I’ve been engaged in over the last twenty-four hours have been, frankly, exhausting. And mentally… oh man, this is so much
to take on board. As José would say, a real mind-fuck. Perhaps in the morning, this might not read like a bad joke.
I scramble up and change quickly. Perhaps I should borrow Kate’s pink flannel pajamas. I want something cuddly and reassuring around me. I head to the bathroom in my t-shirt and sleep shorts and brush my teeth.
I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. You can’t seriously be considering this… My subconscious sounds sane and rational, not her usual snarky self. My inner goddess is jumping up and down, clapping her hands like a five-year-old. Please, let’s do this… otherwise we’ll end up alone with lots of cats and your classic novels to keep you company.
The only man I’ve ever been attracted to, and he comes with a bloody contract, a flogger, and a whole world of issues. Well, at least I got my way this weekend. My inner goddess stops jumping and smiles serenely. Oh yes… she mouths, nodding at me smugly. I flush at the memory of his hands and his mouth on me, his body inside mine. Closing my eyes, I feel the familiar delicious pull of my muscles from deep, deep down. I want to do that again and again. Maybe if I just sign up for the sex… would he go with that? I suspect not.
Am I submissive? Maybe I come across that way. Maybe I misled him in the interview. I’m shy, yes… but submissive? I let Kate bully me – is that the same? And those soft limits, jeez. My mind boggles, but I’m reassured that they are up for discussion.
I wander back to my bedroom. This is too much to think about. I need a clear head – a fresh morning approach to the problem. I put the offending documents back in my satchel. Tomorrow… tomorrow is another day. Clambering into bed, I switch off the light and lie staring up at the ceiling. Oh, I wish I’d never met him.
My inner goddess shakes her head at me. She and I know it’s a lie. I have never felt as alive as I do now.
I close my eyes, and I drift into a heavy sleep with occasional dreams of four-poster beds and shackles and intense gray eyes.
Kate wakes me the next day.
“Ana, I’ve been calling you. You must have been out cold.”
My eyes reluctantly open. She’s not just up – she’s been for a run. I glance at my alarm. It’s eight in the morning. Holy Moses, I’ve slept for a solid nine hours.
“What is it?” I mumble sleepily.
“There’s a man here with a delivery for you. You have to sign for it.”
“What?”
“Come on. It’s big. It looks interesting.” She hops from foot to foot excitedly and bounds back into the living area. I clamber out of bed and grab my dressing gown hanging on the back of my door. A smart young man with a ponytail is standing in our living room clasping a large box.
“Hi,” I mumble.
“I’ll make you some tea.” Kate scuttles off to the kitchen.
“Miss Steele?”
And I immediately know whom the parcel is from.
“Yes,” I answer cautiously.
“I have a package for you here, but I have to set it up and show you how to use it.”
“Really? At this time?”
“Only following orders, ma’am.” He smiles in a charming but professional he’s-not-taking-any-crap way.
Did he just call me ma’am? Have I aged ten years overnight? If I have, it’s that contract. My mouth puckers in disgust.
“Okay, what is it?”
“It’s a MacBook Pro.”
“Of course it is.” I roll my eyes.
“These aren’t available in the shops yet, ma’am, the very latest from Apple.”
How come that does not surprise me? I sigh heavily.
“Just set it up on the dining table over there.”
I wander into the kitchen to join Kate.
“What is it?” she says inquisitive, bright eyed and bushy tailed. She’s slept well too.
“It’s a laptop from Christian.”
“Why’s he sent you a laptop? You know you can use mine,” she frowns.
Not for what he has in mind.
“Oh, it’s only on loan. He wanted me to try it out.” My excuse sounds feeble. But Kate nods her assent. Oh my… I have hoodwinked Katherine Kavanagh. A first. She hands me my tea.
The Mac laptop is sleek and silver and rather beautiful. It has a very large screen. Christian Grey likes scale – I think of his living area, in fact, his whole apartment.
“It’s got the latest OS and a full suite of programs, plus a one-point-five terabyte hard drive so you’ll have plenty of room, thirty-two gigs of RAM – what are you planning to use it for?
“Uh… email.”
“Email!” he chokes, bemused, raising his eyebrows with a slightly sick look on his face.
“And maybe Internet research?” I shrug apologetically.
He sighs.
“Well, this has full wireless N, and I’ve set it up with your Me account details. This baby is all ready to go, practically anywhere on the planet.” He looks longingly at it.
“Me account?”
“Your new email address.” I have an email address?
He points to an icon on the screen and continues to talk at me but it’s like white noise. I haven’t got a clue what he’s saying, and in all honestly, I’m not interested. Just tell me how to switch it on and off – I’ll figure out the rest. After all, I’ve been using Kate’s for four years. Kate whistles, impressed when she sees it.
“This is next-generation tech.” She raises her eyebrows at me. “Most women get flowers or maybe jewelry,” she says suggestively, trying to suppress a smile.
I scowl at her but can’t keep a straight face. We both burst into a fit of giggles, and computer man gapes at us, bemused. He finishes up and asks me to sign the delivery note.
As Kate shows him out, I sit with my cup of tea, open the email program, and sitting there waiting for me is an email from Christian. My heart leaps into my mouth. I have an email from Christian Grey.
Nervously, I open it.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your New Computer Date: May 22 2011 23:15 To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss SteeleI trust you slept well. I hope that you put this laptop to good use, as discussed.I look forward to dinner, Wednesday.Happy to answer any questions before then, via email, should you so desire.
Christian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I hit reply.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Your New Computer (on loan) Date: May 23 2011 08:20
To: Christian Grey
I slept very well thank you – for some strange reason – Sir.I understood that this computer was on loan, ergo not mine.Ana
Almost instantaneously there is a response.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your New Computer (on loan) Date: May 23 2011 08:22
To: Anastasia Steele
The computer is on loan. Indefinitely, Miss Steele.I note from your tone that you have read the documentation I gave you.Do you have any questions so far?
Christian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I can’t help but grin.
From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Enquiring Minds Date: May 23 2011 08:25 To: Christian Grey
I have many questions, but not suitable for email, and some of us have to work for a living. I do not want or need a computer indefinitely.Until later, good day. Sir.Ana
His reply again is instant, and it makes me smile.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your New Computer (again on loan) Date: May 23 2011 08:26
To: Anastasia Steele
Laters, baby. PS: I work for a living too.
Christian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I shut the computer down, grinning like an idiot. How can I resist playful Christian? I am going to be late for work. Well, it is my last week – Mr. and Mrs. Clayton will probably cut me some slack. I race into the shower, unable to shake my face-splitting grin. He emailed me. I’m like a small, giddy child. And all the contract angst fades. As I wash my hair, I try and think what I could possibly ask him via email. Surely it’s better to talk these things through. Suppose someone hacked into his account? I flush at the thought. I dress quickly, shout a hasty goodbye to Kate, and I’m off to work my last week at Clayton’s.
José phones at eleven.
“Hey, are we doing coffee?” He sounds like the old José. José my friend, not a – what did Christian call him? Suitor. Ugh.
“Sure. I’m at work. Can you make it here for say twelve?”
“See you then.”
He hangs up, and I go back to restocking the paintbrushes and thinking about Christian Grey and his contract.
José is punctual. He comes bounding into the shop like a gamboling dark-eyed puppy.
“Ana,” he smiles his dazzling toothy all-Hispanic-American smile, and I can’t be angry with him anymore.
“Hi José.” I hug him. “I’m starving. I’ll just let Mrs. Clayton know I’m going for lunch.”
As we stroll to the local coffee shop, I slip my arm through José’s. I’m so grateful for his – normality.
Someone I know and understand.
“Hey Ana,” he murmurs. “You’ve really forgiven me?”
“José, you know I can never stay mad at you for long.”
He grins.
I can’t wait to get home. The lure of emailing Christian, and maybe I can begin my research project. Kate is out somewhere, so I fire up the new laptop and open my email. Sure enough, there’s an email from Christian sitting in the inbox. I’m practically bouncing out of my seat with glee.
From: Christian Grey Subject: Working for a living Date: May 23 2011 17:24 To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss SteeleI do hope you had a good day at work.
Christian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I hit reply.
From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Working for living Date: May 23 2011 17:48
To: Christian Grey
Sir… I had a very good day at work.Thank you.Ana From: Christian Grey
Subject: Do The Work!
Date: May 23 2011 17:50 To: Anastasia Steele
Miss SteeleDelighted you had a good day.While you are emailing, you are not researching.
Christian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Nuisance Date: May 23 2011 17:53 To: Christian Grey
Mr. Grey, stop emailing me, and I can start my assignment. I’d like another A.Ana I hug myself.
From: Christian Grey Subject: Impatient Date: May 23 2011 17:55 To: Anastasia Steele
Miss SteeleStop emailing me – and do your assignment.I’d like to award another A. The first one was so well deserved. ;)
Christian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Christian Grey just sent me a winking smiley… Oh my. I fire up Google.
From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Internet Research Date: May 23 2011 17:59 To: Christian Grey
Mr. Grey What would you suggest I put into a search engine?Ana From: Christian Grey
Subject: Internet Research Date: May 23 2011 18:02 To: Anastasia Steele
Miss SteeleAlways start with Wikipedia.No more emails unless you have questions. Understood?
Christian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Bossy!
Date: May 23 2011 18:04 To: Christian Grey
Yes… Sir.You are so bossy.Ana From: Christian Grey
Subject: In Control Date: May 23 2011 18:06 To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia, you have no idea. Well, maybe an inkling now.Do the work.
Christian GreyCEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I type Submissive into Wikipedia.
Half an hour later, I feel slight queasy and frankly shocked to my core. Do I really want this stuff in my head? Jeez – is this what he gets up to in the Red Room of Pain? I sit staring at the screen, and part of me, a very moist and integral part of me – that I’ve only become acquainted with very recently, is seriously turned on. Oh my, some of this stuff is HOT. But is it for me? Holy shit… could I do this? I need space. I need to think.
For the first time in my life, I voluntarily go for a run. I find my nasty, never-used sneakers, some sweat pants, and a t-shirt. I put my hair in pigtails, blushing at the memories they bring back, and I plug in my iPod. I can’t sit in front of that marvel of technology and look at or read any more disturbing material. I need to expend some of this excess, enervating, energy. Quite frankly, I have a mind to run to the Heathman hotel and just demand sex from the control freak. But that’s five miles, and I don’t think I’ll be able to run one mile, let alone five, and of course, he might turn me down which would be beyond humiliating.
Kate is walking from her car as I head out of the door. She nearly drops her shopping when she sees me. Ana Steele in sneakers. I wave and don’t stop for the inquisition. I need some serious alone time. Snow Patrol blaring in my ears, I set off into the opal and aquamarine dusk.
I pace through the park. What am I going to do? I want him, but on his terms? I just don’t know.
Perhaps I should negotiate what I want. Go through that ridiculous contract line by line and say what is acceptable and what isn’t. My research has told me that legally it’s unenforceable. He must know that. I figure that it just sets up the parameters of the relationship. It illustrates what I can expect from him and what he expects from me – my total submission. Am I prepared to give him that? Am I even capable?
I am plagued by one question - why is he like this? Is it because he was seduced at such a young age?
I just don’t know. He’s still such a mystery.
I stop beside a large spruce and put my hands on my knees, breathing hard, dragging precious air into my lungs. Oh, this feels good, cathartic. I can feel my resolve hardening. Yes. I need to tell him what’s okay and what isn’t. I need to email him my thoughts, and then we can discuss these on Wednesday. I take a deep cleansing breath, then jog back to the apartment.
Kate has been shopping, as only she can, for clothes for her holiday to Barbados. Mainly bikinis and matching sarongs. She will look fabulous in all of them, yet she still makes me sit and comment while she tries on each and every one. There are only so many ways one can say – you look fabulous Kate. She has a curvy, slim figure to die for. She doesn’t do it on purpose, I know, but I haul my sorry, perspiration clad, old t-shirt, sweat pants, and sneakers ass into my room on the pretext of packing more boxes. Could I feel any more inadequate? Taking the awesome free technology with me, I set the laptop up on my desk. I email Christian.
__________________________________________________________________
From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Shocked of WSUV Date: May 23 2011 20:33 To: Christian Grey
Okay, I’ve seen enough.It was nice knowing you.Ana
I press send, hugging myself, laughing at my little joke. Will he find it as funny? Oh shit – probably not.
Christian Grey is not famed for his sense of humor. But I know it exists, I’ve experienced it. Perhaps I’ve gone too far. I wait for his answer.
I wait… and wait. I glance at my alarm clock. Ten minutes have passed.
To distract myself from the anxiety that blooms in my belly, I start doing what I told Kate I would be doing – packing up my room. I begin by cramming my books into a crate. By nine, I’ve heard nothing. Perhaps he’s out. I pout petulantly as I plug my iPod ear buds in, listen to Snow Patrol, and sit down at my small desk to re-read the contract and make my comments.
I don’t know why I glance up, maybe I catch a slight movement from the corner of my eye, I don’t know, but when I do, he’s standing in the doorway of my bedroom watching me intently. He’s wearing his grey flannel pants and a white linen shirt, gently twirling his car keys. I pull my ear buds out and freeze . Fuck!
“Good evening, Anastasia.” His voice is cool, his expression completely guarded and unreadable. The
“Good evening, Anastasia.” His voice is cool, his expression completely guarded and unreadable. The