CHAPTER XI ← FanFiction - Christian and Anastasia

DOCTOR’S IN

CHAPTER XI

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Since I’m up already, and sleep departed me, I go to my laptop and read Anastasia’s last e-mail over and over again. My mood changes with the details of her response. She can communicate with me in writing so much better than she does when she is talking to me. I must have a bigger effect on her than I initially thought. But since she’s negotiating, I put on my business face on, type up her a response:

_________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your Issues
Date: May 24 2011 04:58
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele

I have thoroughly examined your issues, and I now feel the need to bring your attention to the definition of the word “submissive.”

submissive [suhb-mis-iv] – adjective

1. inclined or ready to submit; unresistingly or humbly obedient: submissive servants.

2. marked by or indicating submission: a submissive reply.

Origin: 1580–90; submiss + -ive

Synonyms: 1. tractable, compliant, pliant, amenable. 2. passive, resigned, patient, docile, tame, subdued. Antonyms: 1. rebellious, disobedient.

I would please like you to keep this in mind for our Wednesday meeting.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

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What say you to that Miss Steele? (←Strange Love by Depeche Mode) I want her to submit to me, because I can take care of her, because I can protect her while she explores depths and heights of her sensuality, her passion; I can take her to places she didn’t know exist, make her experience pleasure she didn’t know possible. It can’t be done without her giving herself to me completely, creating the trust between us. This is essentially trusting the person in control. You fall, I catch. She has to let go of the doubts that I wouldn’t catch. This is about trusting each other. I want, no, I need her to trust me for our arrangement to work. I have to have control. It’s all I know, it’s what works for me, and it’s when I have order out of the chaos surrounding me.

I decide to work out. I run several miles, and lift weights and punch and kick a punching bag to get out my overnight frustration. In the past two nights, the thoughts of Miss Steele managed to do two things: Gave me the biggest wet dream I’ve had, and the worst nightmare of my life. She’s both poison and antidote. She confounds me even in my sleep. Her captivity, her pull, her gravity is inescapable. She tortures me with one of her looks, one of her expressions, one of her witty comments. Why Anastasia, why and how do you torture me so? Though I love her wittiness, and love the way she stands up to me, I would also love to subdue that smart mouth. Because it scares me to the core! Scares me that she may be gone, scares me that she may get hurt, and I may not have any power to prevent it because she’s like the wind.

Taylor comes in to workout as well, seeing me punch the crap out of the punching bag, he wisely says nothing, nods, and acknowledges “Mr. Grey,” and start his workout regimen. (← Pump It by Black Eyed Peas) Once I’m done working out, I tell Taylor that I’m going back to my suite.

“Shall I meet you at your suite sir?”

“No. Meet me downstairs at 7:30. The restaurant,” I say.

“Yes, sir.” He replies.

I make my way back to my suite, take my shower, and put on my pants and white shirt and make my way to the hotel’s restaurant. Taylor is already there being inconspicuous, but ever present. He may look deceptively uninterested, or distant, or looking away from you, but he is ever watchful of the people I’m having breakfast meeting with. The breakfast meeting goes without a hitch.

An hour later I’m back in my suite, and Taylor is making himself scarce in my suite. I call John Flynn.

“Hello Christian,” he answers with confidence after the third ring.

“John,” I say firmly by the way of greeting.

“I haven’t seen you this week. I take that you’re busy,” he says. It’s his way of probing to see what the matter is.

“I’m in Portland,” I say.

“Aha,” interpretation: what’s up?

“I will be handing out diplomas for the WSU graduation ceremonies this coming Thursday,” I say.

“But I gather you haven’t gone there nearly a week early and cancelling on our appointment for the graduation. Is this the reason you’re calling me about?”

“Yes,” I say firmly.

“Christian, of all this time I’ve known you as a friend, and a patient, you’ve not been this closed up with any matter. What is making you tight lipped now?”

“I’ve met someone, and she’s the reason I’m here so early,” I say.

I think I hear a muffled near choking sound.

“Are you okay?” I probe concerned.

“Yes,” his voice sounds like a squeak. Then he clears his throat, and answers in a more manly tone of “Yes, I’m quite well Christian.  I was, Ahhh... anyway, you were saying?” he says with a lot of enthusiasm in his voice, completely interested where he normally speaks to me in his professional tone when we have our sessions, and given my persuasion of a lifestyle, not much phases him when it comes to me. He’s known all about my submissives, and that he knows that I’m a dominant and am interested only in this sort of relationship as this is the only kind of relationship I know and have experience in.

“I met a girl, completely by accident. She came to interview me for the WSU school paper. She wasn’t even supposed to be interviewing me! It was actually her roommate that was supposed to interview me, and she got sick you see, with cold or flu or some shit like that... And I’m really glad she did! Not glad that she was sick, but that she was unable to come! Because she asked her roommate, Anastasia,” I say with an unexpected reverence in the tone of my voice, and John notes that because he makes another squeaking sound. I should do that more often to him, as he’s never surprised with me.

“and Anastasia was the one who actually came to interview me,” I say finally taking a pause to take a breath. John or Dr. Flynn as his patients know him takes my pause as his cue to ask a question.

“I'm glad you're very verbose with me now Christian. And you’ve discovered that this Anastasia is another submissive? Is she a woman who prefers your lifestyle?” he asks very interested. I would have broken any other person’s nose for asking me such a question, but I pay Dr. John Flynn a small fortune to ask me such things, and he did sign an NDA, so he isn’t afraid to ask me his probing question, not if I want him to help me.

“No, she isn’t,” I say as a matter of factly.

I hear another choking sound.

“Dr. Flynn... John, are you okay? Should I just schedule a meeting with you? I really prefer not to,” neither do I care anyway, and he knows that; I’m not in the business of accommodating others. I’m used to getting my way. “But I prefer not to, unless you are having a medical emergency John, since you haven’t stopped choking since I called you,” I say dryly. And continue, “Because I actually really need to speak with you today about this! I just had a bad night... nightmares, but this time Anastasia was involved.”

Dr. Flynn is like having a sensory overload, an equal of Freudian orgasm with my declarations. I can feel his brain reeling from all this information he’s receiving from 165 miles away!

“I’ve no intention of getting off the phone with you Christian. Because, you might just have a breakthrough. Let me first get this quite clear. It isn’t this young woman who pursued you first?”

“No,” I confirm.

“So, you went to Portland...” he pauses, “from Seattle to pursue this young woman?”

“Yes.” I say firmly.

“And this young woman doesn’t share your lifestyle I gather.”

“Not yet, but I would like her to,” I say.

“I see...” says Dr. Flynn and pauses. “However, she is somewhat aware of this lifestyle that you’re trying to introduce her to?” he asks elaborating.

“She had no idea. She is...” I correct myself, “was a virgin,” I say.

Another choking voice followed by loud coughing. This time I wait. I don’t want to cause the death of my best shrink so far.

“Are you alright John?” I ask really concerned this time.

Coughing sounds continue away from the speaker of the phone. I hear his voice distant speaking into an intercom still half choking, “Eleanor, would you bring a glass of water please?” He continues to cough.

I hear his assistant’s voice in the distance urgent, “Right away Doctor Flynn!”  I wait. This could be a while. I still hear him coughing. Hard. Few minutes later, his coughing subsides, and he’s back on the phone again.

“I’m sorry Christian. You have had quite a revelation today, and of all the years of therapy I’ve been providing you, I didn’t think I’d hear those words out of you. You, pursuing a virgin!” He had a hard time keeping the incredulity out of his voice. “You are very particular with the kind of partner you choose, and an inexperienced a non-submissive, a virgin at that wouldn’t fit the bill for you. I’m very interested in finding out what changed in your circumstance,” he says.

“We’ve rectified the situation. She’s no longer a virgin,” I say.

“I see,” he says thoughtful. “And what did she think of your hardcore sexual practice?”

“We just made love the first time. No toys...” I say but amend my choice, “well, if you don’t count my silver silk tie. But, it was my first vanilla,” I say calmly.

He starts choking again. When he stops with his blast of coughs, I say exasperated, “Do you think we can continue this conversation without you dying on me John?”

“Absolutely. It’s just that you’ve never revealed that you had any interest in vanilla, or making love. You have a set of rules you require all your partners to follow,” he says and I cut him off.

“And that’s the thing! She doesn’t fit the bill in any way! Except maybe she’s a brunette. But other than that, even though I assumed she’d be inclined to be a submissive, because she was all ‘yes sir,’, ‘no sir’ and still is very shy, I don’t think there’s a submissive bone in her body! And before you choke again,” I give him a forewarning, “I have other revelations.” I say. 

“I’m listening,” he says holding his breath.

“She slept in my bed three times with me. You know... Sleep sleep. We also made love in my bed. I also think of her every minute of every day, and that’s pretty much the entire time when I’m awake. And at night, she’s in my dreams!”

“Curious!” utters Dr. Flynn in his Londoner accent. “What sort of dreams have you been having?”

“The night before last, I had my biggest and best wet dream. She was so fucking real! I didn’t even know, or think, or comprehend that it was a dream!” I say.

“Very interesting,” he observes and sounds like he’s taking his usual notes in his leather binder. “Go on,” he coaxes.

“Last night, was the worst night ever as far as the nightmares are concerned,” I say.

“Have you had a dream about the pimp?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, but I can’t help my breath hitching, “he caused Anastasia’s death in my dream, and I was devastated. It felt like no other loss I felt. No loss that can compare to it! I don’t think I’d feel this much pain and distraught had I lost someone else in my family,” I say feeling guilt, barely audible.

“You like her,” says John flatly.

“That’s your professional opinion?” I say dryly mocking. “I figured as much.” But Dr. Flynn is unfazed.

“What do you think you feel for her Christian?” he asks.

“It’s not love!” I say fervently trying to make myself believe in it.

“It’s very interesting that you say that,” he says interested. “Why would you draw that conclusion?”

“I don’t do love John! I think it’s a mixture of like, reverence, awe, desire, lust, like...” I say drifting off.

“You said that,” he interjects.

“What?”

“Like...” he says, “you indicated that you liked her already twice,” he says. Where is he going with that?

“I do like her. A lot actually. In fact, I find myself thinking about her, dreaming about her, wanting, desiring her at a never-ending constant, no, at a rising rate! Despite the fact that she doesn’t have a single obedient, submissive bone in her body, as I’m finding out,” I say exasperated.

“And yet, you still desire to be with her... Curious!” says Dr. Flynn as if he is watching his favorite version of “Best of Freud.”

“Talk to me about your nightmare,” he says. I recount him details of my nightmare.

“Do you have fear of she will leave you?” he asks.

“I thought she was leaving me without giving me a say the night before last. She sent me an e-mail saying it was nice knowing me!” I say my voicing raising a notch.

“And how did that make you feel?” he asks, as I roll my eyes, like it’s the shrinks’ favorite catch phrase.

“Freaked out! At a loss... I have nothing to compare the feeling to. Never felt this way before!” I say with emotion.

“Surely, you’ve had other submissives with whom you weren’t compatible, or who wished more than you can offer, and you parted ways without any qualms or a second thought.  Are you in love with this young woman?” he asks, his question totally taking me off guard.

I look at my phone incredulous, “No!” I say fervently. “I don’t do love! I can’t love. I’m bad for her but I can’t seem to get myself away from her! She’s the same around me! It’s like moth to flame.” I run my hand through my hair taking a deep breath.

“But yet, you say this isn’t love. Your fear of losing her is manifesting itself in your nightmares where generally your birth mother’s pimp plays a primary role. He’s the primary actor in most of your nightmares; a residual fear of your childhood if you will, and yet he managed to insert himself into your biggest fear: the loss of this young woman in the most profound way. This is your subconscious telling you that you will need to change your ways stemming from the damages you have endured in your earlier years should you want to continue establishing a relationship with her,” he says.

“You may be right. But I am not interested in any other kind of relationship, except for a Dominant and submissive,” I say fervently.  

“Your words may indicate that, but you are ready to accommodate her needs in the relationship, like making love to her...” he says but I cut him quickly.

“That was just a means to an end. So we could move onto the next step of the introduction,” I say.

“How does she feel about that?”

“She’s negotiating her terms with me,” I say. Another choking sound.

“John, are you eating? You seem to be choking quite a lot.”

“Hypoglycemia. Small meals and often.” He says after a short while, clearing throat. “To be honest, you’ve managed to shock me often this morning Christian,” he admits humbly.

“It’s not me, it’s her! She even makes my security detail nervous, because I’m always on the edge not knowing how she’ll behave!” I say exasperated again.

“Let’s get to the core of the issue Christian. If this was any other submissive, any other woman, you wouldn’t have tolerated because, as you put it, you are set in your ways. But yet, you accommodate Anastasia’s wants, her needs, and you let her negotiate her terms with you,” he says.

“I haven’t named the feeling yet. She’s like sun, and I’m like a planet, unable to get out of her pull...” I say helplessly.

“Yes, love does that to you. "L'amour est comme un sablier, quand le cœur se remplit, le cerveau se vide,” he says to me.

“John,” I say dryly, “Love is like an hourglass, with the heart filling up, as the brain empties... (←All about Us by T.a.t.u)  What, you are a philosopher now? But I have a rebuttal: On n’aime que ce pu’on ne possède pas tout entire,” I reply.

“You say ‘we only love what we do not wholly possess.’ Do you wish to possess her?” he asks.

“In a way, yes. But I don’t know if she can be possessed. How can you contain a tornado?” I ask.

“Let’s assume that you managed to possess her, then what?” he asks.

“First I’d like to give her a good spanking for defying me at every corner!” I say exasperated.

“Interesting, but do you think she’s defying you, or expressing herself in her own terms?”

“It’s the same thing,” I say flatly.

“But you like her being who she is. Being expressive, smart mouth as you earlier put it. How would you feel if that was all gone? You’d only have a mechanical, empty shell of a woman who once was Anastasia. Is that what you desire?” he asks making me gasp.

“No! I’m only trying to protect her! From herself! I do love her tenacity, and her smart mouth, and love her negotiating skills, but sometimes she can be reckless like she has no self-preservation skills! That’s what I’m trying to protect her from. Maybe that fear was manifesting itself in my dream,” I say as an epiphany dawns on me.

“Or,” says Dr. Flynn in his rebuttal, “that your fear of something will happen to her is so great, making your overprotectiveness detrimental to her well-being, and it’s manifesting itself in your dream as a warning from your subconscious. Because you have a suspicion that it could make her run away, and she may get hurt as a result,” he says. I’m silent.

“I hate your rebuttals!” I say finally feeling petulant. He laughs.

“But the question becomes, how will you react? How will you accommodate her personality?” he says.

“I like her personality. I don’t like defiance. You know I like control. I’m a fucked up sadist,” I say bitterly.

“You and I disagree on that Christian. You are NOT a sadist. You are a young man who had to endure horrible things in the most formidable years of his life. But we can’t dwell on the past as we don’t have any control on what had happened; what’s past. We can only look forward, and create a place where you want to be: a goal, a personal ideal place and work towards achieving that ideal. The lifestyle you are in was introduced to you when you were so young, and you haven’t tried anything else, neither did you have desire to do so until you met this young woman.

But, in the last week you tried so many different things that are outside of your personal scope, outside of what you are used to, and found out you like it and with an innocent young woman at that. I think this young woman has provided you the therapy that I’ve been trying to administer you for the last two years! I’m in awe of her. I would really like to meet her!” he says excitedly.

Great! I make a frowning face... Another admirer! Will she ever cease to amaze me, amaze others? (← All the Things She Said by T.a.t.u) She doesn’t even have to exert any effort to impress them at all. I feel this rising jealousy in me, though my subconscious knows that I have nothing to worry about Dr. John Flynn who is very happily married and in love with his wife.

“Shall we say we meet next week then?”

“Yes,” I say and hang up.

I spend rest of my day tending business, and my work as my Blackberry never stops ringing; e-mails keep flowing from Ros and my assistant Andrea. My mind is always wondering what Anastasia doing. Worrying who she is talking to. Will she meet someone else today that he’ll sweep her off her feet with none of my fuckedupness? It makes my blood boil, and I pace around the suite.

“Sir, Claude Bastille is here,” says Taylor.

I look at him questioning. “You asked me to have him find time to see you this week, and I managed to get him today.” I stare at him. He knows I’ve been edgy and need a workout, and get this pent out energy that’s doing nothing but accumulating. I nod.

Claude Bastille walks in with his impeccable muscles and ready to work me out, kick my ass. He extends his hand, “Grey,” he says smiling.

“Bastille,” I say taking his hand. “I’ll meet you at the gym,” I say grinning. After last night’s horrors, today might be the day I kick his ass to the floor. Taylor understands me so well, sometimes I don’t have to say anything to him and he just knows what to do. He proves that he’s an invaluable employee at every turn. Next two hours, I work out very hard. Even though Bastille kicks my ass to the floor three times, I kick his ass twice giving me a great satisfaction. After my workout, I take a shower, order in dinner as I still have work to finish. I still haven’t received a response to my e-mail from last night. What could she be doing? Is she out with someone? The thought makes me jealous so much that I want to punch something and drive over to her apartment and claim her. But I control my impulses. She’s probably eating dinner. I don’t want her to write to me before she eats something, she eats so little already. I get back to my work again.

My e-mail dings! I scramble to open the e-mail program and to my disappointment it’s from Ros. God! I’m like a teenage boy who is waiting to receive a simple nod from the girl of his affections. As I’m reading Ros’ message about a shipyard we are thinking of purchasing, my e-mail dings again, and this time it’s Anastasia. I abandon the message I’m typing to Ros, and switch to Anastasia’s message.

 _________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: My Issues? What about the Issues YOU Have?
Date: May 24 2011 18:30
To: Christian Grey

Dear Sir

Did it escape your impeccable attention that the date of origin of the definition you so kindly sent was 1580-90? May I respectfully remind you that we are in 2011? In the last 430 years, a lot has changed, and we’ve come a long way. In retrospect, I would like to offer you another definition which you ought to consider for our Wednesday meeting:

com·pro·mise [kom-pruh-mahyz] noun

1. a settlement of differences by mutual concessions; an agreement reached by adjustment of conflicting or opposing claims, principles, etc., by reciprocal modification of demands.

2. the result of such a settlement.

3. something intermediate between different things: The split-level is a compromise between a ranch house and a multistoried house.

4. an endangering, especially of reputation; exposure to danger, suspicion, etc.: a compromise of one's integrity.

Ana

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God! How does she do that? I love that smart mouth of hers! I love that she’s interested and negotiating with me. No one has ever done that! Not that I would allow them to do it, or negotiate with me... It’s her! She’s doing this all to me? What is she doing to me? I type a response right away.

_________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: What about my issues?
Date: May 24 2011 18:33
To: Anastasia Steele

Fair point well made as ever, Miss Steele. I will pick you up from your apartment at 7:00 p.m. tomorrow.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_________________________________________

Her response dings into my e-mail box in a few minutes.

________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Year 2011 – Women can drive
Date: May 24 2011 18:41
To: Christian Grey

Dear Sir

I have a car and a driver’s license, making me legal to drive.
I’d rather prefer to meet you somewhere.
Where would you suggest I meet you?
At your hotel at 7:00?

Ana

_________________________________________

What? Why? She’s planning an escape route. If I collect her, then, she’s dependent on me to take her back. Why is she trying to defy me again? My hand runs through my hair again exasperated. I type her a response.

_________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Stubborn exasperating young woman
Date: May 24 2011 18:44
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele

Would you please refer back to my e-mail dated May 24, 2011 sent at 4:58 please and read through the definition once again?

Do you ever think that you’ll be able to do what you’re told?

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

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She’s not a submissive at all, although she has the demeanor of one because of her shy nature. She’s confounding me, defying me at every turn, yet I can’t escape her pull. Why do you torture me so Anastasia? Why don’t you ever listen?

_________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Intractable men
Date: May 24 2011 18:50
To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey

I would really like to drive.
Please.

Ana

_________________________________________

How exasperating can she be? She should really work for me. She’s a frigging tough negotiator! She makes me acquiesce, but not before making me mad. If she was mine, her delectable behind was red and sore till my hands got red and hurting!

_________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Not so Intractable Men
Date: May 24 2011 18:52
To: Anastasia Steele

Fine.
My hotel @ 7:00.

I’ll meet you in the Marble Bar.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_________________________________________

Even my typed words reflect my angry mood. She drives me insane! She never listens. Never does what she’s told! And if she was any other woman, any sub I’ve had, I’d leave her. But, even the thought of leaving her, or yet her leaving me rips my blackened heart. A response dings back from her momentarily.

_________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Intractable men
Date: May 24 2011 18:55
To: Christian Grey

Thank you.

Ana x

_________________________________________

My fucking heart melts with her response. With one simple ‘Thank you’ and one frigging “X” indicating her kiss. What is this I’m feeling for her? Agh!

_________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Exasperating Women
Date: May 24 2011 19:00
To: Anastasia Steele

You are welcome.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_________________________________________

I can’t wait till I see her... tomorrow.

(Bookmark is used with the courtesy of http://www.forestadesign.com/bookmarks/)

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