*Multiple Trigger Warnings*

Rated MA

I rewrote my original Fifty Shades of Fucked Up; this one is darker for warning. I wasn't happy with my other story and wanted to change a lot of things and this is the best way I could do that. If any of you follow me, please know that I want to do this with a lot of my stories. I love the way I got to express myself with writing all of my stories, but when I look back and read them, I want it to be something that I want to read, not just something to read.

There is a lot of touchy subjects in this fanfiction. It takes a much darker turn of events than the original. It is an AU, but I also do like captivating as much as the old Ana and Christian that my story will allow. I also don't want someone to read something they aren't comfortable with. So small *spoiler alert* Ana has a very rough past. I go further in depth with husband number three and take it to whole new level. There is a memory of the rape Ana suffered in the past. Ana is also in a BDSM relationship with an older man at the age of 15. Does that last part sound familiar though?

If I haven't scared you off yet, this is a Happily Ever After. Like all my other stories I couldn't bare to see any catastrophic damage done to the characters. If you don't like my story and what I'm writing about, you don't have to read it. If you have comments that aren't disrespectful to me, then please review.

Pinterest dot com /MidnightSteele/fifty-shades-of-fucked-up/

Chapter 1 - Rise Up

Ana's POV

I'm sitting in the playroom on the heels of my feet, with my legs spread wide, in the kneeling position master showed me. My eyes are glued to the floor and my hands are patiently waiting on my thighs. I don't have enough experience in here to know what to expect. We started our contract roughly three months ago, even though we've known each other for about a year. It started off completely innocent, I'm not really sure how it's turned into so much more. At first, I was completely put off by the idea. This isn't how I imagined my first real, sexual experience. You can't have a first, real, sexual experience.

I have control over the situation, and I don't have to worry about being touched. I've stopped drinking but have still been fighting. This last fight I got into got me kicked out of another school. I know I have a punishment waiting. I don't want the punishment, I want the pleasure, I want the idea of intimacy this all brings. This is closest thing I can have to a real relationship.

When he enters, I feel the breath hitch in my throat, still a little nervous that my limits will be pushed too far. He knows my hard limits. My no touch areas. Even just thinking about someone touching them puts me into a panic. I empty my mind and try to focus on what he's taught me in here. I watch him without moving my gaze from the floor, I hear him getting some things at the dresser nearby. I try to even my breathing, but when he stands in front of me it catches again.

"Stand" I stand up, not removing my gaze from the floor. He leads me over to the St. Andrews cross and cuffs my ankles in, moving his hands up my legs only slightly grazing across my clit. He straps my arms up and leaves me very exposed in this position.

"Look at me, Anastasia." He commands, my head snaps up and I stare into his dark green eyes.

"What are your safe words?" He asks and I respond instantly.

"Yellow and Red, Sir." The few times we have been in here he has made sure that I know it can stop at any time I just have to say red. It brings slight comfort knowing he's not doing this session for my pleasure, but his. I want to please him; I want to be able to please somebody in my life.

"I'm going to hit you with a flogger. You will not speak, you may make sounds." He says just before unleashing the first hit across my stomach. He hits again hitting my breasts, and again. He hits each breast, taking turns on each side. He hits my pussy, and I feel myself starting to get wet. The pain is welcoming. The pain is what I deserve. He drops the flogger and pulls a vibrator out starting with my clit he teases me.

"You will not come today." He says. OH fuck.

He teases my clit, spreading my folds and inserting the vibrator into me. In and out, painfully slow. I moan, but don't dare speak. He pulls the vibrator out just as I am on the brink. The vibration on my nipples is almost enough to make me come again, when he stops and drops the vibrator. He makes quick work of the restraints.

"On your knees." I drop to my knees and he unbuttons his worn jeans and give enough room for me to suck his erection. He forcefully moves my head stroking his long hard member. I don't flinch but take all of him in my mouth. He comes, keeping himself deep in my throat shooting his warm cum in mouth.

"I'm not finished with your punishment." I don't know how much more I can take. He leads me over to the bench having me bend over.

"I'm going to hit you, and you are going to count with me." I instantly feel the belt across my ass.

"1." I squeak out. I don't know how I feel the belt. He's never used the belt before. I continue counting after each hit, each one hurting more than the last.

"5." OH god, how many more time is he going to hit me. I am almost in tears already. I won't fight again. I fucked up, I know.

"Why am I punishing you, Anastasia." The strikes stop when he asks the question, and I think he knows I'm nearing my limit.

"For getting into another fight, Sir." I say, not recognizing my own voice.

"You got kicked out of another school, are you going to keep doing this?" He asks harshly.

"No, Sir." I cry, never, never again.

The belt comes again, and I almost forget to count, but not wanting anymore lashes I remember.

"You have to learn." Whack. "You need control." Whack. "This will be the last time." Whack.

"Red, Red" I call out crying. No more, please no more. I won't fight again. I won't drink again. No more being reckless. I will control myself. No more punishment, please.

The belt drops, and I weep. I'm crying because of the pain, because of the hurt. I've had a shitty past, but if I keep this up, I'll have a shitty future too. I'm going to self-destruct before it's too late.

"I'm going to apply cream to you behind." He says before touching me. It stings, and I know I am going to regret even more what I've done.

"Are you okay?" He asks when he's done. Am I okay? I don't know how to respond so I nod my agreement not being able to find my own voice.

"The session is over you can leave whenever you are ready. I hope you understand that your actions have consequences." Yes, sir.

He helps me get dressed, and I enjoy the comfort of the aftercare. I know he is trying to make sure I'm okay, make sure that I am cared for. That may sound crazy considering this man just hit me several times with a belt, but I needed to be punished for what I've been doing. I need to learn control, I can't live without it.

"I'll see you on Tuesday, and it will be nothing but pleasure if you be a good girl." He says, looking at me with lustful green eyes.

"Until next time, Mr. Lincoln." I tease and collect the rest of my things to leave. When I head out the front door, I have my head down, but I instantly feel somebody watching me. When I look to see who it is, I am met with a pair of grey eyes looking back at me. He seems to be working in the yard and I'm really not sure because I'm afraid if I look for too long I will trip over my own two feet. I make a hasty retreat to my car and drive home. Looking back in the rearview mirror, I wish I could have seen those grey eyes just a minute longer.

Christian's POV

After my almost near expulsion from Seattle Prep, one of the remaining schools I can attend in Seattle my parents decided that I needed to get a part time job as punishment. I was bitching and complaining about it the whole time trying to find some way out of it. When Mrs. Lincoln told my mom she had hard labor that could be done around their house after their renovation my mom thought it was the perfect opportunity. Me, not so much. Not just because I thought the punishment was shit, but because the Lincolns give me the creeps. He always looks so stern and angry all the time, and Elena just always seems so inappropriate. I don't have a leg to stand on with my mom, and the Lincolns are family friends so it's not like my feelings about them really bare any ground whatsoever.

I am clearing the debris and putting what I can in a wheelbarrow to haul away from the side. When I set the wheelbarrow down to readjust my grip, I have a good view of the front door just as its opening. I didn't even think anyone was home, I tried knocking when I arrived, and nobody answered. When the brunette walks out with her head down I study everything about this woman in a matter of a minute. She is wearing brown ankle boots, dark jeans, and a white sweater. It's hard to see anything underneath seeing as she has a large scarf and bag, covering half her body from me. I instantly despise the cold weather, wishing for just a peek at what is underneath all the layers. Almost as if she knows I'm mesmerized by her, she looks up and I am met with a pair of blue eyes that shock me straight to the core. She looks away all too quickly, and before I know it, she's gone. I'm bolted to the ground, watching the direction she sped off in.

My frozen stature is quickly shattered when Mr. Lincoln leaves the house and asks me what I'm doing here. More importantly, what is she doing here?

"I'm sorry I thought I would get a head start on clearing some of this out." I want to get this done, I don't want to be here anymore than I have to be. The fact that Elena wasn't here was a blessing.

"I didn't think anyone was home." I add, I did knock on the door, or were you a little busy?

"I was just finishing up with a mentee. Thanks for starting so promptly I didn't realize Elena had enlisted extra, help." The way he says help bothers me it's not like I want to be here anymore than you want me here. He leaves telling me that I shouldn't worry too much about everything that needs to be done and he has professionals coming in next week. Then why the fuck am I here?

When he leaves, I finish clearing out enough that it looks like I made a dent. That way I can say I actually came over here and put in an effort. I am much too distracted to do anything further. The blue eyes have been burning into my brain since I saw them. As much as I despise this after school job, If I get to see those blue eyes for even another minute it would all be worth it to me.

When I go home that night and lay in bed, I'm not kept awake by the nightmares that usually haunt me. I lay in bed, captivated by the blue eyes that leave my soul wanting more.

Ana's POV

When I get home the house is empty, the house is always empty. I sigh and head upstairs to my bedroom. I know it's a mess, but I drop my bag on the floor and hit the bed rather quickly. I lay on the bed careful to not irritate the marks left from today. Before I can stop myself, my body falls into a deep sleep, riddled with nightmares that haunt me every time I close my eyes.

I'm lying on my side, praying to fall asleep, blatantly aware of the yelling from downstairs. The yelling stops, and I glue my eyes shut when I hear boots climb the stairs. When they stop, assuming right outside my door, my heart stop. My eyes don't open. Please, keep walking. All of a sudden, it's like everything in the world stops moving. I pray that tonight I was saved. Wrong. The door creaks open, and I will myself to be asleep.

I hear movement, not opening my eyes and lying so still you would think I was dead. Playing dead never works. The bed shifts and I smell him before I feel his hands on me. Scotch. Always scotch. I want to crawl out of my skin every time he touches me. I don't make a sound when his erection pokes into my back. I'm wearing a nightgown, no longer being able to find comfort in pajama bottoms. They all magically disappeared, leaving no protection for the intrusion that I know is about to happen. He grabs my shoulder and rolls me over so I'm lying on my back and I still don't make a move. If I try to kick or scream, I will just get beat. If I try to say no, he laughs.

"You can pretend to sleep all you want, I know you want this." He says, and my eyes pop open mercifully begging for him not to do this.

"Please, no." I beg, I know it no use. He's inside me already, and just as I scream his hand is covering my mouth. I cry and scream, it's no use to me. He is working on his own pleasure as he thrusts in and out of me ripping my insides with each thrust. I stare at the crack in the ceiling and start counting. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. I am gasping for air, feeling oxygen deprived. The smell of scotch invading my lungs. He removes his hand and aims it for my throat instead.

"You're so tight. You like my cock in this little pussy, don't you?" He pants and my eyes are starting to blur from tears. I am begging for air. I'm begging for him to stop, I know it's only a matter of time before he finds his release. I try to think about anything other than what is happening right now. Please. Please. Why did mom have to marry him?

When he grunts inside of me and releases his hand from my throat, I catch every bit of air I can catch. His weight on top of me makes me want to scream again. She won't stop him, she never does. When he gets up and leaves, I curl myself into the smallest possible creature and cry.

I wake up soaked in sweat, hating myself for falling asleep. Hating myself for remembering such an awful time in my life that I have tried so hard to forget. Every night it seems to come back to haunt me. I change quickly into pajama bottoms and a t shirt. I don't bother going back to bed, fearful that I will have to relive the same nightmare over again. I sit in one of the armchairs in my bedroom and stare out the darkened window. I don't know what time it is, nor do I really care. Every day is the same at this point.

I start my new school on Monday so that means I have a day before I really need to get my ass in gear and start thinking about my future. After today's session I know that I need to make a change in my life, and I need to find something that is going to give my life more meaning. I want to get out of this hell that I live, although my situation has been worse in the past, I can't keep living with the women that was so much of a witness to my pain. She played so innocent and I let her. She is as much to blame for what he did, if not even more to blame. She was my mother, she should have protected me. Husband after husband, she never even cared about my well-being.

She left Ray and married his best friend Frank Lambert. When that relationship failed she found Stephen, husband number 3. The one who beat me, broke me. She moved me around from house to house, moving cities away, states away. When I finally found redemption after the incident, she dragged me away again to Seattle. I don't know why she didn't let me stay with ray, I deserve to have my dad in my life. I deserve to have someone who care about me, love me. Don't I? Of course, you do.

When Ray saved me from my nightmare, I was almost starting to feel safe again. Then she came back, dragging me to Seattle kicking and screaming. It's not that I hate my life right now, Carla pretty much leaves me alone now. Her new husband Bob is a lawyer and he works so much, neither of them are here very often and when they are, I try not to be. Bob is actually a decent guy, he has tried to be very nice but I'm not so trusting anymore. I thought husband number 3 was great, until we moved to Las Vegas and my life became a living hell.

It's not that I don't feel safe where I am now, it's just I'm a deeply unhappy person right now. I only started to get a ray of light shined on me when Lincoln started pursuing me. After I turned 15, he had been spending more time with Bob and Bob started talking about me to him. He was so clueless about what to do with me. I was out every night, skipping school, getting into fights. I was beyond repair, until he told me he could help me. He offered to teach me about what it takes to run a business, at least that's what he told Bob. He really has shown me a few things, but he taught me control in another way. He showed me the BDSM lifestyle and showed me how it could help me. He knew about my past and he said that if I felt uncomfortable with any of it was okay.

At first, I was frightened by it all and didn't think someone with my past would be capable of a relationship, let alone one that involved chains, whips, and canes. After we started our contract, I know that I can't have any different kind of relationship. I can't be touched on my back, and I like to be dominated. I don't have to think, I just have to do as I'm told. I just have to submit, and all my pleasure is given to me on a silver platter. Submission is one of the easiest things I have ever done and even in three months it has changed my life completely. I'm finally starting to think about my future.

I don't know how long I sit there for when the sun starts peeking through the windows. I realize how much of punishment I really took yesterday when the soreness starts to make my own body ache. I should have used my safe word sooner, I shouldn't have pushed myself so far but sometimes the pain is welcoming. I get up from the chair and stretch I was curled into a ball, and my whole body aches. I go into the bathroom and sit on the edge of the bathtub, I decide against adding any extra soaps and make sure the bath is almost unbearably hot. I want to soak as long as possible. Staying up half the night has done nothing to help my already solemn mood.

I step into the bath, having to slowly adjust to the water, I may have made it just a little too hot. When I sink into the tub, I drop my head into the water going underwater until I can't stay under any longer. I come up gasping for air, I rub the water out of my eyes and feel a recharge I so desperately needed. I try to keep my mind from rehashing the past, I have done enough of that tonight. My thought drift to grey eyes, I didn't even speak to the man and I already find myself so captivated. He looked young, but he couldn't have been any younger than me. I wonder how he knows the Lincolns. I know I've only saw him once but there was this feeling in the way he looked at me. I felt my whole body on fire, and I've never felt anything like this before.

You're in a contract, Ana. You can't be thinking about other men. I somehow feel like I am betraying master and decide to get out of the bathtub seeing as my skin has started to prune. I dress in purple workout leggings and a grey tank top. As sore as I am, I need to keep moving or I am going to fall asleep again. I head for the basement where my little corner of heaven sits. In the gym, Bob was kind enough to shift equipment over so that I could have a rather large corner to pursue my dancing.

When Ray saved me from Vegas, he took me to a therapist, and I hated it but the one good thing I got out of it was dancing. She recommend that I pursue an extracurricular activity that would get me in a group. I always had an interest in dance but was never able to pursue anything in the past. Since the move back to Seattle I have actually gotten even more passionate about it. It's the one thing I love, the one thing that seems to love me. I had a natural talent and was recognized for it immediately when I entered competitions. Even through all the bullshit, dance was the one thing I could always rely on. The one thing that was always there for me and I could go to no matter what.

You're broken down and tired of living life on a merry-go-round, and you can't find the fighter.

But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out, move mountains, we gonna walk it out and move mountains.

I move freely practicing my routine, letting the music take me. I feel it take over and I no longer have a care in the world other than to feel this song, right now.

And I'll rise up

I'll rise like the day, I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid, I'll rise up

And I'll do it a thousand times again

And I'll rise up, High like the waves

I'll rise up, In spite of the ache

I'll rise up, And I'll do it a thousand times again

For you, For you, For you, For you

When the edited mix ends, I fool around a little bit longer before letting exhaustion take over. I decide to give in and head back up to my bedroom. In an effort to not fall into a deep sleep I fall asleep curled up in one of my chairs wrapped in a blanket. Despite my best efforts, I dream about grey eyes before I fall asleep.