“Anastasia,” he cajoles. “I am sorry. 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 god-

dess bounces up and down like a small child waiting for ice cream.

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

“We’ve talked about suspension. And it’s fine if you want to set that up as a hard

limit. It takes a great deal of time, and I only have you for short periods of time 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’dbe 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 begin-

ning 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,” I murmur.

“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 whis-

pers.

“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.

“See? Beside, 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, un-

certain 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 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 world-view shifts. The thought is very

sobering, and I soften towards 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 briefly 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.