Fifty Shades of Grey

He smiles.

“Discipline. There’s a very fine line between pleasure and pain Anastasia. They are two sides of the same coin, one not existing without the other. I can show you how pleasurable pain can be. You don’t believe me now, but this is what I mean about trust. There will be pain, but nothing that you can’t handle. Again, it comes down to trust. Do you trust me, Ana?”

Ana!

“Yes, I do.” I respond spontaneously, not thinking… because it’s true – I do trust him.

“Well then,” he looks relieved. “The rest of this stuff is just details.”

“Important details.”

“Okay, let’s talk through those.”

My head is swimming with all his words. I should have brought Kate’s mini disc player so I can listen back to this. There is so much information, so much to process. The waiter re-emerges with our entrees: black cod, asparagus, and crushed potatoes with a hol-landaise sauce. I have never felt less like food.

“I hope you like fish,” Christian says mildly.

I make a stab at my food and take a long drink of my sparkling water. I vehemently wish it was wine.

“The rules. Let’s talk about them. The food is a deal breaker?”

“Yes.”

“Can I modify to say that you will eat at least three meals a day?”

“No.” I am so not backing down on this. No one is going to dictate to me what I eat.

How I fuck, yes, but eat… no, no way.

He purses his lips.

“I need to know that you’re not hungry.”

I frown. Why?

“You’ll have to trust me.”

He gazes at me for a moment, and he relaxes.

“Touche, Miss Steele,” he says quietly. “I concede the food and the sleep.”

“Why can’t I look at you?”

“That’s a Dom/sub thing. You’ll get used to it.”

Will I?

“Why can’t I touch you?”

“Because you can’t.”

His mouth sets in a mulish line.

“Is it because of Mrs. Robinson?”

He looks quizzically at me.

“Why would you think that?” And immediately he understands. “You think she trau-matized me?”

I nod.

“No Anastasia. She’s not the reason. Besides, Mrs. Robinson wouldn’t take any of that shit from me.”

Oh… but I have to. I pout.

“So nothing to do with her.”

“No. And I don’t want you touching yourself, either.”

What? Ah yes, the no masturbation clause.

“Out of curiosity… why?”

“Because I want all your pleasure,” his voice is husky, but determined.

Oh… I have no answer for that. On one level it’s up there with, ‘I want to bite that lip’, on another, it’s so selfish. I frown and take a bite of cod, trying to assess mentally what concessions I’ve gained. The food, the sleep, I can look him in the eye. He’s going to take it slow, and we haven’t discussed soft limits. But I’m not sure I can face that over food.

“I’ve given you a great deal to think about haven’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to go through the soft limits now too?”

“Not over dinner.”

He smiles.

“Squeamish?”