Fifty Shades of Grey(150)

"Yes, Sir."

A trace of a smile lifts the corner of his mouth.

"Good girl." His eyes burn into mine. "When I tell you to come in here, I expect you to kneel over there." He points to a spot beside the door. "Do it now."

I blink processing his words, turn, and rather clumsily kneel as directed.

"You can sit back on your heels."

I sit back.

"Place your hands and forearms flat on your thighs. Good. Now part your knees.

Wider. Wider. Perfect. Look down at the floor."

He walks over to me, and I can see his feet and shins in my field of vision. Naked feet.

I should be taking notes if he wants me to remember. He reaches down and grasps my braid again, then pulls my head back so I am looking up at him. It's only just not painful.

"Will you remember this position, Anastasia?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Stay here, don't move." He leaves the room.

I'm on my knees, waiting. Where's he goneWhat is he going to do to meTime shifts. I have no idea how long he leaves me like this... a few minutes, five, tenMy breathing becomes shallower, the anticipation is devouring me from the inside out.

And suddenly he's back - and all at once I'm calmer and more excited in the same breath. Could I be more excited I can see his feet. He's changed his jeans. These are older, ripped, soft, and over-washed. Holy cow. These jeans are hot. He shuts the door and hangs something on the back.

"Good girl, Anastasia. You look lovely like that. Well done. Stand up."

I stand, but I keep my face down.

"You may look at me."

I peek up at him, and he's staring at me intently, assessing, but his eyes soften. He's taken off his shirt. Oh my... I want to touch him. The top button of his jeans is undone.

"I'm going to chain you now, Anastasia. Give me your right hand."

I give him my hand. He turns it palm up, and before I know it, he swats the center with a riding crop I hadn't noticed is in his right hand. It happens so quickly that the surprise hardly registers. Even more astonishing - it doesn't hurt. Well, not much, just a slight ringing sting.

"How does that feel?" he asks.

I blink at him, confused.

"Answer me."

"Okay." I frown.

"Don't frown."

I blink and try for impassive. I succeed.

"Did that hurt?"

"No."

"This is not going to hurt. Do you understand?"

"Yes." My voice is uncertain. Is it really not going to hurt?

"I mean it," he says.

Jeez, my breathing is so shallow. Does he know what I'm thinkingHe shows me the crop. It's brown plaited leather. My eyes jerk up to meet his, and they're alight with fire and a trace of amusement.

"We aim to please, Miss Steele," he murmurs. "Come." He takes my elbow and moves me to beneath the grid. He reaches up and takes down some shackles with black leather cuffs."This grid is designed so the shackles move across the grid."

I glance up. Holy shit - it's like a subway map.

"We're going to start here, but I want to f*ck you standing up. So we'll end up by the wall over there." He points with the riding crop to where the large wooden X is on the wall.

"Put your hands above your head."

I oblige immediately, feeling like I'm exiting my body - a casual observer of events as they unfold around me. This is beyond fascinating, beyond erotic. It's singularly the most exciting and scary thing I've ever done. I'm entrusting myself to a beautiful man who, by his own admission, is fifty shades of f*cked-up. I suppress the brief thrill of fear. Kate and Elliot, they know I'm here.