reasons," he says quietly.
"Is that why you've tied my hands?"
"Yes."
"You don't like talking about that," I murmur.
"No, I don't. Would you like another drinkIt'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 whispers.
"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
Paddling
Whipping
Caning
Biting
Nipple clamps
Genital clamps
Ice
Hot wax
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 this stuff, 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 round 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.
"SeeBeside, 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?" I breathe. 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 belly.
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 murmurs, pulling me into his arms and kissing 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," he trails off. 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 murmurs.
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