BONUS: Christian's Redemption

CHRISTIAN’S REDEMPTION

(Please be warned that this section is darker: I wanted you to see what happens when love is removed from a relationship as was the case for Christian and Elena. It was purely physical. Then compare it if you will to the emotions Ana and Christian are going through. You will then realize that the attraction wasn't purely physical between Christian and Ana-a big contrast to any other relationship he had. There's more. You will need this chapter to understand why I kept saying it is love that makes this story great!)

“Sit!” she orders barely moving her immaculately trimmed blonde hair. She looks down at me. I could always feel her gaze on me. My head is bowed, I’m sitting on my knees, my fingers spread apart on my lap, my face is expressionless, my head bland, waiting for her order to do her bidding. I wouldn’t dare to look up to her; especially here, at this place. She sits on the chaise lounge extending her left foot to me. I take it obediently.

“Suck!” she barks another order. I take her foot reverently, without thought. Place her big toe and start expertly fallating it the way she likes it. Big toe first, then the second, then the middle. That’s the one that arouses her the most, and then move on the line. She likes her instep licked and nibbled. The effects of it go down to her groin. She arches her foot, and I move my lips to her instep willingly, without question. She leans back in the chaise; I know that though I don’t dare to look up at her. I have been used to the routine. Her left breast would be spilled out by now.

“You’re welcome to borrow my sub; if I can borrow yours after you’re completely satisfied” says another female voice. She says nothing, but she must have acquiesced with a nod to that effect, because I see the bare feet of another sub lean in and start sucking on her nipple. I pause for a short while; anger rising in me. I don’t want to share her with another sub! But what can I do? I kept telling myself not to think. Reminding me. This is to learn to master, and control myself, my emotions. When my pause grows longer, she notices it. Her tone is none too pleasant.

“What do we have here?” she says in her velvet voice. “Worried about a little competition?” she sounds pleased. But I don’t trust her tone. You know how they say “her bark is worse than her bite,” that’s only backwards with Mistress Elena. The calmer she sounds, the harsher she punishes... Like the time she did by pouring hot wax on my chest, knowing how I detest being touched, she pours hot wax as my punishment! She would never take any crap from me. Ever! Giving and receiving pain and pleasure are all the same to her. She could reach an orgasm and moan when she is caning me as punishment, or for the purposes of pleasure.

Right now I don't move. I don't look up. I keep my mind blank. I am a submissive, and I have to do what I am told without thinking. She extracts her foot away from my frozen hand, shifts in her seat, pats the other submissive in the head making me further jealous. No, I am not jealous. I am not supposed to be. I am not supposed think. She stands up over me. The chain on my collar rattled.

“Well well well... How shall I punish you for this offense Christian?” she says in her velvety voice. I swallow. It could be anything. She could swing me from the ropes, tie me up on the cross and whip me, gag me, and cane me, hang weights, use genital clamps... Her options were endless. I say nothing. I keep my mind blank. My already fucked up mind waits for her to decree her punishment with half fear, and half anticipation. She can hurt me and still make it pleasurable. I am a slave to her. I’ve had five years of experience now, and I have been her sub all this time. She beat the crap out of me whenever she thought I got out of line, and did that often. She made me fuck her any way possible and some impossible ways.

“Mistress Stark, you may have to share my sub for this punishment session,” she says to the owner of the sub who is now sitting on his knees on the floor buck naked and looking at his spread out fingers with a serene face.

“You will be roped. I think I like to suspend you today...” she says decisively. “What do you say to that?” she asks serenely but with a disguised threat. I remain motionless, and serene. She yanks the chain up on my collar, forcing me to lift my face up to look into her gaze.

“You respond me when I ask you a direct question! What do you say to that?” she hisses with a threat in her tone.

“Yes mistress,” I respond my gaze finally boring into her eyes longingly.

“Good boy!” she says. I am still the boy here though I’ve been her submissive for the last five years and a man of twenty.

“Now, stand up!” she orders yanking the chain forcing me to get up on my feet. The two mistresses criss cross the fiber ropes around my torso as I stand motionless, tying it making diamond shapes like Turkish baklava. The final loop goes around my throat snugly. The others in the large hall where people are learning how to be a submissive and dominant barely glance up from their own busy pleasures. They make me lie down on a bed. But the odd angle the rope is coiled around my neck forces my head up off the bed. If I were to put my head down, my windpipe would get restricted. I am exposed, but this is something I am used to. It’s been five years since I’ve been a submissive. They lower a pulley above the bed, turning me over. My hands are tied in my back, and my entire body is covered with ropes criss crossing each other. When I’m rolled over, I have to force my head to jerk up because it restricts my breathing. The pulley is tied with the rope behind me and I’m pulled about three feet above the bed. I’m open, exposed and completely helpless, and at the mercy of two mistresses. She occasionally shares me with other mistresses, and borrows their subs like she is doing today.

Mistress Elena pulls my hair back jerking my head up. “Are you alright?” she asks with a passive face.

“Yes, mistress,” I respond my voice hoarse.

“What’s the safe word?” she asks authoritatively.

“Diamond,” I respond trying to keep my head up.

“Good,” she says, “Mistress Stark goes first,” she says as a matter of factly. “I owe her, and you pleasure her to her satisfaction,” she orders me. I fall silent.

She jerks my head up yanking my hair even harder. “What is your reply?”

“Yes, mistress,” I manage to get out trying to manage the pain. “Mistress Stark’s sub is going to be in charge of the ropes, so, he’ll lower you to her level. Got it?”

“Yes, mistress,” I respond hoarsely again.

Mistress Stark lies on the bed, her legs spread apart. She wants to be pleasured, and my mistress orders me to pleasure her. Mistress Stark’s sub lowers the rope low enough so I can reach her pleasure point while Mistress Elena lies in the opposite direction and starts pleasuring me to get me in the mood. As my head goes up and down, my breathing is restricted which is giving me pain, but on the other side Mistress Elena is pleasuring me which is making me want to go on. I am in a conundrum.

I want to stop, because I don’t want to be shared with another Mistress. But I want to go on, because Mistress Elena is pleasuring me. Mistress Stark is raising her hip up and trying to get her full due, but the rope that’s coiled around my neck is restricting my ability to give her full due that says she’s owed by my mistress, and also hurting my neck as it goes down, constantly pulling it into that odd angle to get half a breath.

“Faster!” orders Mistress Stark not fully satisfied. I’m about to pass out, but I don’t want to embarrass my Mistress with an incompetent sub. But my breathing goes harsher as I have to bury my head into her pleasure point, and the last thing I remember is my eyes rolling back in my head, and lights out.

*

*

“Christian, you know you must be punished,” she says calmly. “You did not use the safe word, and what’s more, this reflects badly on me, as you know it is one of my rules that you must absolutely reflect your best especially when we’re among our own kind.” She gives me one of her chiding and pointed looks. I don’t exactly know what is going through her head, but the calmness of her voice doesn’t convince me one bit that she will not punish me severely. Because she can come up with a creative way to get her revenge, deprive me of relief and gain total and absolute control over me.

I’m kneeled on the floor. I wish she’d have a little love for me, more than just the punishment, or fucking. But she says “love is for the fools! It is a useless emotion. It’s a deterrent, it’s a human failure. You need control to master your destiny, and love takes that control away from people.” I always wondered how it would be liked to be kissed by Elena. You know, a kiss with emotions, with gut twisting desires, a kiss that would want you to do anything for that person, not that I wouldn’t anyway, but, she... She never showed me such an emotion! She never has it for me...

“Now, you must take your punishment,” she says.

“Yes, mistress,” I respond serenely.

“Do you know why you’re being punished Christian?”

“Yes mistress. I didn’t use the safe word, and I made you look bad in front of another mistress by not fully satisfying her and passing out,” I say.

She binds me spread eagle on the cross. I can’t move, and I hate this position. She moves her flog around me slowly, but I’m not deceived. The next thing I feel is the tendrils of the flog hitting me in the family jewels. Both painful and pleasurable. I’m already gagged so I can only make a groaning sound. She moves around and hits me on the buttocks and making her way around to my jewels again over and over again. She then brings out a piece of paper which would perhaps resemble an extremely fine sand paper. I hate that, because it makes your skin nearly peel off but not enough. The blood rushes to the surface, and you feel pleasure but the pain is on the extreme. She wraps that paper around my manhood, and starts rubbing with a soft gleam in her eyes.

“This is your punishment Christian! You will not disobey me again! Do you understand that?” she says.

I nod my head, but pain shots through me beyond the amount of pleasure which I can forego. I barely can signal with my hand as the pain is incredible, and because I’m gagged and she’s completely occupied with her punishment phase, I force to shake my body so she notices my hand signal. She’s aroused and breathy and finally brings herself to stop the punishment. She quickly unbuckles all my restrictions, as I collapse onto the floor in supine position to absorb the pain better. She walks around me, rubs my arms where she knows she can touch. Although she doesn’t really give a fuck where she touches... Dare I even say ‘no’ to her? She’d beat the crap out of me.

“Well, that concludes your punishment for one of the offenses. I’m still not done with you Christian,” she says, no emotion, no consolation in her voice. But it is soft and melodic, hypnotizing.

I roll over my back. Though I’m sore that, it’s the least of my pains. I fix my gaze on her and say with a barely audible voice through pain:

“I don’t want to be your sub anymore!”

Shock fills her eyes. “Christian, it’s the pain talking, you know you like this! This gives you discipline, this gives you purpose, this gives you control, and you are in charge. If not you learn to be in charge!” she says with fervor in her eyes. I shake my head. I know my limit, and I know my likes. This isn’t it! I don’t want to share; neither do I want to be shared. I like control; not to be controlled. From now on, I’m going to be the dominant. I won’t be subbing for anyone; not even for Elena! She doesn’t requite anything I feel for her. She doesn’t even hold me after she's done inflicting pain on me!

“When you feel better, we’ll talk. I’ll leave you to yourself,” she says and the last thing I see is her black boots walking out of the room.

I find myself doubled, and holding my privates, pulling my legs up as if to suppress some pain, and roll over and over. Tears jerking out of my eyes on their own volition. Pain is great, and there is no pleasure left. It makes me roll on the floor like child’s top aimlessly.

“Ouch!” I land on my back off the bed in Heathman Hotel!  My heart is nearly jumping out of my chest because of the nightmare I’ve had. The nightmare is about the last day I ever was a submissive for Elena, for anyone.

I sit on the floor on my now sore butt, in the dark pulling my knees up, supporting my elbows, my hands cover my face and run through my hair. Will I ever get over this fucked up shit? Not even in my dreams, I’m not free! That’s why I have written rules. That’s why I am cautious of the needs of my partners, likes and dislikes, so I don’t hurt anyone like I was hurt.

Anastasia said she was afraid that I would hurt her. I would never do that to her! And now she wants hearts and flowers. I don’t fucking know how to do that! God knows how much I want, and desire her! What do I do? How do I compromise? How do I make it work out of all this shit that clouding me day and night? I want to make it work. I wanted nothing as much, nothing as badly, as fervently, strongly, and adamantly! But when it comes to Anastasia, all bets are off. In the corner of my dark soul, I already know she’s “more” to me. I’ve never been anything more than a sub or Dom for the last year of my relationship with Elena, and after that we just remained friends because we share a past. But, Anastasia is different. She’s unlike anyone. I think she’d kick Elena’s butt to the curb as I already know her dislike of Elena because of our past. She may be a shy girl, but there is a tiger in her ready to pounce.

The year after of that incident, I quit school as well to start my own business to the complete disappointment of my family. I knew I could never work for someone else as I knew I disliked being a sub. I would be my own master.  I’ve made a vow that day to be in complete charge of my life. Not to be told, but to tell others what to do. I made goals and I’ve put them into practice.

Long term and short term goals. Like a chess player, I’ve calculated my future moves five sometimes six step ahead. I vowed to never be at the behest of someone else, friend or foe. I am a realist. I wanted to be successful. Badly! I wanted to be worthy of my family’s affection, though I don’t know if I could ever feel at par with them, being how fucked up I am since birth which disgusted me. I disgust and abhor myself. Maybe it’s my attempt to redeem my unredeemable soul. Nothing but music and piano gave me solace.  (← Duettino Sull’aria Le nozze di Figaro by Mozart)

I’ve heard people numerous times that they wished they win the lottery, or start a business, or inherit some money, or some attempt to become wealthy, but none of those people had realistic goals.

I wanted my goals to be measurable, calculable, with an ETA attached to it. Since I already knew how to take control by observing those- by that I mean my Mistress and whoever she deemed to loan me to- who controlled me all those years. I have no ill will for Elena. I’m in a way grateful for what she thought me, what she had given me, and being a friend. But, I’m never going back there again.

I’ve learned how to control my emotions, and dreams, and my business to reach the end goal – whatever the next thing is for me.

But with all I’m feeling right now, I have this sense that there is no next one where Anastasia is concerned. She’s always on my mind! (←Always on My Mind by Michael Buble)

In my business as well as personal life as in my training, I made my long term goals to be accomplished within the next five years, some goals I have goes as far as ten years or more of goals. And my short term goals are the ones that I wish to accomplish or attain within the twelve month forecast. They’re measurable, written, and flexible. If I manage to fulfill my goal before the time I envisioned, then, I lower my time frame and up my expectations. If however, it’s coming along slower than expected; I change the boundaries and set the date further. I only employ the best, and I expect their best effort. I plan well, I manage my time well, and these are all part of my reflexive action. I don’t have to give it a second thought as to what I should be doing now, because I already know what my future moves should be.

Why can’t I employ any of these skills where Anastasia is concerned? When she’s near me, all bets are off. When she’s away from me, like right now, my mind is constantly occupied with her as if my brain has no other work to do! Elena engrained in me that love is a useless emotion. What I feel for Anastasia couldn’t be love! Because when I’m around her, I find my purpose. If love is a useless emotion, then I wouldn’t be feeling purposeful. I do get lost often with her... I don’t know what she will say, or do, or how she will respond to anything simple or complex. But I love finding my way around. I feel alive! I breathe easy. I find my center. I’m no longer lost.

The day she came into my office and sprawled on my floor, the Seattle skies were bleak and grey perfectly reflecting my mood. After I managed to achieve my goals, nothing really satisfied me, and I had nothing to look forward to. No acquisition made me complete, or fulfilled. No talks with Elena, or visits to my family plugged the gaping and ever growing hole inside me, inside my dark soul! My hobbies of flying and sailing only managed to put a Band-Aid on it. I had a missing piece from the core of my being. My soul was missing, and I found it in her. How could I let it go? She’s my reckoning. (←Can’t Help Falling in Love by UB40)

She’s my new purpose. She’s my freedom out of my own bondage. Her tornado sets me free even if it gives me pain in the process. How could I let my soul go when it’s constantly calling me?

She’s my soul. She’s my purpose in life. She’s what fills the abyss, this black hole within me. She’s part of me. How could I let her go when she is part of my soul, part of me? I think of William Ernest Henley’s poem which perfectly speaks of my feelings:

Invictus (← Read by Morgan Freeman)
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

Right this moment, it’s all Anastasia, and nothing else. (← You're in My Heart by Rod Stewart)

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Hello CG&AS Fans! I wanted to give you a glimpse of Christian's past, part of what contributed to his troubled present. How he made his attempts to change his future, and what still plagues him in the night when no one is present, and why he has the hesitation and questions in his relationship with Ana, and what pulls him to take baby steps. This is part of Christian's Invictus. I was going to post this after the next chapter, but I think you will need this info before the next chapter comes in order to understand our main man better.