'The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining ever brighter till the full light of day.'

I had a difficult start in life and my life was heading in the wrong direction fast, until Elena instilled in me a drive to succeed. To cope with flash backs of my traumatic childhood by controlling every aspect of my adult life. I have taken what Elena taught me a step further, I strive for perfection. Music, playing the piano is no different.

I can't get back to sleep after nightmares, so I get up and play the piano. I need something technically challenging, something that I can lose myself in until I restore my equilibrium after a moment of self revelation. I sought Ana's consent, I was careful when administering the belt strap not to cut into her skin, but I missed her reservations to pain. In her eyes, I was like the sadistic bully of my nightmares.

I select 'Gaspard de la Nuit', by Maurice Ravel. The Scarbo movement is considered to be one of the most difficult solo piano pieces ever written, reflecting the nightmarish mood of the poem it's based on. It reflects my torment this evening.

In my business life, I have learnt to read people, to present the case for what is mutually beneficial and induce them to sign a deal that I want. Under Elena's expert tutelage, I've mastered techniques to give a woman immense sexual pleasure. I've gone on to become a practitioner of BDSM.

I've practiced BDSM on Anastasia. A twenty one year old virgin and been with her like my last fifteen subs. The difference is that my former subs were sexually active and had experience fulfilling the desires of a Dominant.

With the benefit of hindsight I expected Ana to be like any intelligent twenty one year old that does extensive research and talk to me freely about any concerns she had. I did not expect her to willingly place herself in a situation that she did not want to be in. BDSM requires complete trust from both parties. As I used the belt I had complete trust that she would use the safe word and end any situation that made her remotely uncomfortable.

I don't blame her for walking away from our arrangement because the belt was that gave fifteen subs enormous pleasure was too much for ingénue Ana.

But to move forward, I need to persuade her to come back to me. The issue for me is whether I can stop finding pleasure from aspects of BDSM that give me and my former subs the most pleasure, the thrill and the euphoric high from making a sub take pain for me.

I finish playing the difficult piece of music, without a solution to my predicament. Elena has guided and advised me since I was fifteen years old. She knows me better than anyone in my life. She can't be wrong in her assessment that vanilla just won't cut it for me. She must be right, but then again, she could be as affected by childhood trauma like I am.

Anastasia is an intelligent, beautiful young woman who can be successful in her own right but I want to have her in my life. For that to happen, I will have to stop thinking of her like my former subs. I will have to adapt towards meeting her needs. But can I change in this way?

I quickly get changed and head down to the gym, ignoring Taylor who steps in behind me and follows me down. At this early hour of the morning, the gym is deserted, so it's just the two of us, He's acting like my shadow. Normally there is a quiet, relaxed atmosphere between us, but things feel tense and awkward today. As we both lift weights, I speak to him to address the issue.

"I appreciate that you and Mrs. Jones are under some misapprehension about the events of yesterday with regard to my safety, Taylor, but there was no need for concern. I do not expect you to intervene in personal matters."

I remind him of boundaries set when I first employed him four years ago.

"Yes, Mr. Grey. Will I be letting Dr. Flynn into the penthouse this morning sir?"

"He is, thank you Taylor," I reply as his sharp brown eyes coolly meet my challenge.

I replace the weights and walk out of the gym.

~~~

I check the surveillance reports. Anastasia hasn't left her apartment. I check her phone, another text from Kate asking why she hasn't answered her last one.

By the time I've showered and had breakfast prepared by Gail, on her day off, I know she remains concerned about me. As she clears up, John Flynn is ushered in by Taylor.

"Thought I'd come round earlier as you're an early riser," he calmly wanders into the kitchen after being shown in by Taylor, who, along with Gail leave the penthouse.

"I'll bet you can't wait to get a guided tour of my playroom."

"That must be it, Christian," he agrees with a wry smile, as he studies my face. He no doubt takes in the fact that I haven't bothered to shave for several days now, and I imagine the lack of sleep is also apparent on my face.

I offer him a cup of coffee.

"I'd prefer tea, if you've got it."

I open the cupboard, and sitting there right in front of me is the box of Twining's English Breakfast tea bags.

Anastasia's favorite.

I instructed Gail to buy tea especially for her. I'm frozen to the spot. Literally. I'm reminded all over again that Anastasia walked out of my life and there's an excruciating pain in my chest. I didn't know you could hurt this much. It's worse than any physical beating I've ever taken. How do I make it stop?

Weak and black, that's how she takes her tea. A few quick dips of the tea bag. She doesn't know much about wine or champagne, but enjoyed whatever I selected for her to try. A natural palate, I could help her to develop. I like that she admits not knowing about these things. Some people are pretentious about their inexperience and I wish Ana was more open about how she felt about BDSM.

With all my previous subs, the emphasis of the relationship occurred inside the Red Room but with Anastasia it was outside of that inner universe I am master of. I could contract a new sub Elena recommended. It would be straightforward, none of this complicated messy private life. But I remember Elena has always told me that it is not weak to fail after striving for success or perfection in my case. She has always said and I have never understood until now that there's strength in trusting someone enough to need them.

I need Anastasia to add colour and laughter to my grey somber life. Without her, my life could stretch out a chasm of perpetual night.

"Christian?"

I'm just standing there staring into the cupboard with tea.

"Never mind, coffee will be just fine," Flynn quietly says, pouring himself a cup. "How did you sleep last night?"

"How do you think?" I shut the cupboard door and turn to face him.

"Parasomnia still an issue then?"

"Of course it's still an issue. Fortunately I can function on a minimal sleep."

"And your nightmare – still the same one?"

"Yes, except this time... " I can hardly bring myself to admit the significance of what I worked out.

"What happened this time?"

"The belt. The leather belt that the crack whore's pimp beat me with. I have one just like it. And it's the one I hit Anastasia with. Out of everything in my playroom, that's what I chose to hit her with. It's a favorite of mine and I wonder if I'm becoming like him."

"Firstly let's not conflate two issues. BDSM if administered with the knowledge and consent of two parties is not abusive. If Ana is not into it and you hit her with the belt that's what crosses the line. Do you find the idea of hitting her with the belt repugnant?"

"Yes."

"Yet you have used this belt many times before, along with all the other implements, on all your previous subs."

"My other subs were strong intelligent women who found it thrilling to give themselves to me completely. They gave me a gift I prize to this day. Using a belt took our sessions to a state of euphoria little came close to, but you're right the others were genuinely willing. Ana said she was even though I now know she wasn't. She's made this aspect of BDSM sordid for me and made me do something I never should have done."

"Your feelings for Anastasia is making you not only review your actions but also the way it affects her. The process of change in you has already begun, whether you realize it or not. Can you really go back to how you were before? Would you be happy continuing in exactly the same way, having glimpsed the possibilities of another lifestyle? I think not."

"Of course it is, but.... I'm not even sure I can do it," I whisper.

"Christian, if you decide to finally face up to your childhood demons and make some changes, I'll be there to support you every step of the way, to help you work towards your goals. In my estimation, you are not to blame for believing Ana gave you full and informed consent. However, what happened with her has given you a taste of a different lifestyle for intimate relationships. Now, I'd like you to show me your playroom."

~~~

I unlock the door, and let Flynn walk in ahead of me.

My playroom. Meticulously planned and laid out, no detail overlooked. When whipping, caning or giving any type of a beating, it takes a lot of skill and experience to expertly judge the correct placement and force of each strike, and the angle of the arm also has to be factored in. This makes the positioning of each piece of equipment, such as the whipping bench, very important. It needs to be positioned away from the wall, to allow a full arm swing if required for a heavier blow, rather than the flick of the wrist that's used for a lighter touch.

Every piece of equipment in here is of the highest quality. I have every possible implement or toy that I could ever want to use. My own controlled, personal haven, where every hedonistic way of intimacy is catered for. I love it in here.

Flynn wanders in and slowly looks around, not saying anything. This is the first time I've been back in here since Anastasia left me, and it brings back some painful memories of our encounter. Normally, my playroom calms and reassures me because here, I am in control.

I stare at the whipping bench, remembering how Anastasia obediently lay supine over it for me. She looked so fucking amazing with that pretty ass of hers just waiting there for me to hit her.

"Interesting choice of color for the walls," Flynn murmurs. "Almost a cocoon. Womb like. Interesting."

He wanders over to the rack that holds my canes – one of every possible length and thickness. He tentatively touches them, then moves on to the mahogany chest of drawers. He looks over at me for permission to open a drawer, and I nod my consent. He looks in the various drawers in turn, giving the assorted toys - butt plugs, anal beads, nipple clamps and pegs, vibrators - a quick perusal before gently closing each of them again.

He glances up at the iron grid suspended from the ceiling, and then at the carabiners scattered across the ceiling. He looks over at the antique rococo four poster bed, with the chains and cuffs hanging from under the canopy. I love this bed. It's a truly beautiful and stunning piece. It took me a long time to track it down, as genuine antique ones of that size and quality are really hard to come by. It might be a bed, but it's not in any way cozy, as its purpose in here has never been for sleep. F*cking a spread eagled, shackled sub is what it's for, like the truly amazing fuck I shared with Anastasia to Thomas Tallis on it.

"This room is not what someone outside the BDSM lifestyle would think of as a play room, Christian. Anastasia not leaving when she saw this room suggests that she has strong feelings for you."

But now my eyes are inexorably drawn over to the belt. That belt. The one I carefully replaced in its rightful place by the door, after Anastasia walked out on me. It's high quality, tan leather belt with a large buckle, exactly like the one in my nightmare.

"After I'd hit her and she was crying and really upset, and she asked if I got off on seeing her like that."

"And do you?"

"Not unless she freely submitted to me like my other subs did. I wish she used the safe word so she did not experience what she hated and make me do what I regret bitterly."

"Maybe she did this to please you. You said she told you she loved you after the beating. Maybe rather than be open about her feelings, she was declaring her love for you."

"That's some twisted thinking," I tell him angrily.

"I can't tell you what's in the mind of a twenty one year old woman let alone what you're thinking when you bring them here. But everyone deserves to be with those that make them happy and whatever sexual intimacy satisfies both parties."

I think back to all the different types of sex, including the vanilla, which I've enjoyed with Anastasia, and I know he's right. There was always such an amazing bond and connection between us, however we fucked. We were so right together, we fitted, and we matched each other perfectly. Sex has never felt like that for me with anyone else before. It was on a different level to any other experience I've had– and I've had one hell of a lot. Anastasia has bewitched me, she's cast some sort of a spell.

"But I am what I am, John. And the thing is, some of the kink we've done, Anastasia's really enjoyed, I know she has." The silver balls, the erotic spanking, the riding crop, the flogger, being blindfolded, I think she found these experiences sexually gratifying. But I am no longer sure she found these experiences as satisfying as I did or she did it to stay with me.

"She's starting her first post college job tomorrow. Maybe I should just let her have a clean break, make a fresh start, forget about me," I mutter, unconvinced.

~~~

Trying my hardest to put aside all my selfish personal feelings, I think about letting her go, to make a fresh start. I think long and hard about what this would mean in reality.

I know she's been spending more since she moved to Seattle. I can envision her struggling to achieve a decent standard of living on the low starting wage SIP. Many college graduates are in a similar position. SIP pay less than I pay interns at Grey Enterprises, not to mention additional benefits. Not for much longer though. The takeover is going through, despite meeting with some hostility.

I'm not happy to learn that her new boss is a guy, and he's not much older than me. There is nothing in any of the intel on this Jack Hyde that has given Welch cause for concern. None of his previous assistants have stayed in the job long, but there could be many innocent explanations for this, the poverty wages being one of them. I feel this overwhelming urge to protect Anastasia although she is more than capable of looking after herself.

José Rodriques took advantage of her intoxication. Kate is increasingly spending time with Elliot. Having walked out on me, she has been alone for days. She needs me. Elena always says it was not a sign of weakness to need someone. Anastasia needs me just like I need Anastasia in my life. To get Anastasia back, I will do anything. To avoid both of us feeling like this, we will work this out.

~~~

I'm not in the best of moods when Monday morning passes by and I hear nothing from Anastasia, despite her having email access at work. Nothing from her. What if she's not feeling the way I am; what if she's not interested in hearing from me?

Some of my immediate staff have noticed my control slip when my temper flared. I go to the gym to ease my frustrations and keep staff morale. I look at the surveillance pictures of Anastasia making her way to work on the bus, because she doesn't have a car of her own any more. Even my junior staff have an Audi from the staff car pool to use. It makes me sad she doesn't.

She never left her apartment even once over the weekend. She looks pale and washed out, with dark circles under her eyes. I'm concerned when the team report she doesn't buy food at lunchtime, only a latte. I have to resist the urge to see her and insist that she eat.

Her work emails at SIP are routine, nothing of note. And the only calls on her Blackberry are from her mom and Ray, who both left voice mails, wishing her good luck for her first day at work. Clearly she hasn't been in contact with either of them to tell them we've broken up. Is that a good sign? I've held back from telling my family, in the hope that we can work something out. There's also a text from Kate, because she hasn't had a reply from Ana, scolding her because she assumes she's probably let her phone die again. She knows her friend only too well it seems.

Flynn rings to check how I'm doing and I tell him. I decide to send flowers then spend ages debating about what sort of flowers to send. My inclination is to send her a huge bouquet, but worry that may seem over the top and ostentatious for her more frugal tastes. Red roses perhaps? No, too clichéd and obvious. Finally, I settle on sending her two dozen long-stemmed, white roses.

I include a casual and polite accompanying card.

Congratulations on your first day at work.

I hope it went well.

And thank you for the glider. That was very thoughtful.

It has pride of place on my desk.

Christian.

From the surveillance, she gets the flowers soon after getting in from work. But I hear nothing from her that evening, all day Tuesday, or Wednesday morning. No response at all. Nothing. This is not going to plan. This is not what I was hoping for. She has cut all ties with me.

As I think it's hopeless, Wednesday lunch time, she gets a text on the Blackberry from her photographer 'friend'. He wants to know if she's coming to the opening of his exhibition at the gallery in Portland on Thursday evening. He calls her 'Babe', and signs off with a kiss after his name.

She told me about the exhibition and asked if I go with her. She was nervous broaching the subject with me, as we stood in the shower together. I miss showering and taking a bath with her. I want to do that again with her. I certainly don't want her going off to see José Rodriguez without me.

The thought of him touching Anastasia whilst she's intoxicated or touching her inappropriately once she tells him we've broken up, makes me messes with my sanity.

I've waited long enough. She invited me to the exhibition and I have the perfect excuse to contact her and offer to take her there. With Kate away, she might have difficulty making the exhibition.

I draft an e-mail.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Tomorrow

Date: June 8, 2011 14:05

To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Anastasia

Forgive this intrusion at work. I hope that it's going well. Did you get my flowers?

I note that tomorrow is the gallery opening for your friend's show, and I'm sure you've not had time to purchase a car, and it's a long drive. I would be more than happy to take you—should you wish.

Let me know.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc

I hit send, then sit back to wait for a reply. It seems like forever, but it actually only takes twenty minutes for me to finally hear from her. I am excited with relief. Good job I'm by myself in my office, so no one sees me punch the air in jubilation.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Tomorrow

Date: June 8, 2011 14:25

To: Christian Grey

Hi Christian

Thank you for the flowers; they are lovely.

Yes, I would appreciate a lift.

Thank you.

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIP

I email her back straight away, to ask what time I should collect her. My delight in making these arrangements is soured somewhat by the fact that she has obviously finally realized that her cell is still on divert, and she must have made contact with him because she comes back with the start time of José's show. I don't care what time it starts, I'm picking her up as early as I possibly can. I know she finishes work at 5:30, so I suggest collecting her at 5:45. It is a long way to Portland, after all.

And come what may, she will be eating dinner with me. I'm already trying to figure out the best mode of transport to ensure we have the maximum amount of time together.

I'm in a really good mood now, so I tell Andrea to book herself and Olivia in at the Esclava Beauty Salon for a massage, and any other beauty treatments they would like, and charge it all to me. She looks very surprised, but I think she works out that this is my way of apologizing for being such an unusually exacting boss the last couple of days.

My mission to win back Anastasia back goes into action tomorrow.

End of Book 1

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Content Warning: The fan fiction you are reading describes adult, liberal, unconventional relationships. The characters, their personalities, occupations, relationships and events in this story are not always consistent with the original stories 'Fifty Shades of Grey' or 'Grey'. Hopefully they reflect the complexities and moral ambiguities of the original. Billed as erotica with unconventional relationships accessible to a mature audience, this story develops through consensual BDSM themed sexual encounters.

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