Updated on May 24, 2015
50 Shades of Grey – Chapter Sixteen
So Ana has agreed to become Christian’s submissive but, in an infuriating turn of events, decided to keep on whining about shit she doesn’t want to do. Furthermore, there was a sex scene without any sign of whips, chains, or even the notorious tie. If Ana doesn’t get even slightly smacked in this chapter, I will be certain this barely raunchy book was sold to me under false pretences.
50 Shades of Grey
Slowly the outside world invades my senses, and oh my, what an invasion.
This is commonly known as ‘waking up’, and if we were all as amazed by this daily occurrence as Ana seems to be, the world would grind to a halt.
I’m lying on top of him, my head on his chest…
You SLEPT like this? How did he breathe?
“Why don’t you like to be touched?” I whisper…
“Because I’m fifty shades of fucked up…”
Excellent shoehorning in of the title here. And by excellent I mean awkwardly laboured.
…he pulls out of me and sits up.
Not asleep after all. Just resting. Like my will to live.
“Miss Steele … You’ve had six orgasms so far and all of them belong to me”
Not all, Mr. Ego.
“I had a dream this morning.”
Double crap. Am I in trouble?
YES, HOW DARE YOU FEEL ANY PLEASURE WITHOUT THIS MAN.
“What was I doing [in the dream]?”
“You had a riding crop.”
Yes, the only vaguely BDSM experience in the book so far was in Ana’s head. Let’s hurry this along, shall we?
“When is your period due? … I hate wearing these things,” he grumbles. He holds up the condom…
Excuse me, so-called sexpert. You can get pregnant on your period.
…then puts it on the floor and slips on his jeans.
Putting a used condom on the floor does not count as tidying it up.
Holy crap … this is personal stuff.
He has literally been inside you. It doesn’t get much more personal than that.
“You need to sort out some contraception.”
He is so bossy.
Bloody man, not wanting to father a child with his latest squeeze.
“Do you have a doctor?”
I shake my head.
“I’ll see you on Sunday … then we can really start to play. … I’d like to do a scene with you.”
Since you seem to be narratively aware, Christian, can you inform us in which chapter this ‘scene’ will take place? I’ll happily skip ahead.
“Oh. So I could stretch this out if I don’t sign?”
Dear God, no!
He warns her that if she did that he might crack under the pressure, kidnap her, hold her against her will, and inflict TPE (Total Power Exchange) on her with no respite. She seems totally fine with the idea of relentless sexual abuse, so I guess my horror at this exchange is ill-founded.
“What did I say I’d do to you if you rolled your eyes at me again?”
I forget. Please elaborate.
“I’m going to spank you, and then I’m going to fuck you very quick and very hard.”
Ah, thank you. I’ll take notes next time.
Suddenly he grabs me, tipping me across his lap. … He throws his right leg over both of mine and plants his left forearm on the small of my back, holding me down so I cannot move.
This might be titillating if not for the whole kidnap-rape scenario described not two pages ago.
He places his hand on my naked behind, softly fondling me … And then his hand is no longer there … and he hits me – hard. Ow!
I don’t know why I was expecting any more description than ‘ow’. I should have learned by now.
I cry out on the tenth slap – and I’m unaware that I have been mentally counting the blows.
I’m impressed. It takes genuine skill to write a sentence so purely nonsensical.
From somewhere deep inside, I want to beg him to stop. But I don’t. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
The definition of a strong woman: she who doesn’t fight back when a man hurts her.
“Next time, I will get you to count.”
No problem, she’s been to college. She can even talk about being able to count without realising it. Meta.
He moves, pounding into me, a fast, intense pace against my sore behind. The feeling is beyond exquisite, raw and debasing and mind-blowing.
Well, I asked for more kinky stuff and here it is. Can’t help but be a little disappointed that it’s nothing more than a list of adjectives, though.
He scoops up the other condom and heads out of the bedroom.
Watch him, he’ll probably put it on the kitchen worktop or something.
Christian comes back with some baby oil to rub on her arse to soothe it.
…from makeup remover to soothing balm for a spanked ass, who would have thought it was such a versatile liquid.
We’re contemplating the many uses of baby oil now?!
I watch him walk down the path and climb into a big black Audi … The irony is I can’t even sit down and enjoy a good cry.
Crying standing up is apparently not an option.
I’ll have to stand.
Well that won’t be nearly as fun, will it?
Ana’s mum calls and Ana cries (standing up) as she confesses that she’s fallen for a man she’s not sure she should be with.
“You’ve fallen for someone, finally. How can you possibly know someone in that kind of time frame? Just take it easy with him…”
This motherly advice is gold. Once you’ve gone to the trouble of falling in love with a man, ignore those early warning signs and the fact that you’re crying all the time. Stick with it. Things are bound to get better.
…it’s unnerving when my mother is so insightful…
It’s unnerving when someone thinks this crock of shit is insight.
Kate comes home and sees Ana has been crying. She offers real advice (he’s upsetting you, it’s not worth it, dump him), which Ana naturally dismisses as too simplistic. She then refuses to answer any more of Kate’s questions, saying ‘it’s complicated’. She doesn’t deserve friends.
The hot news is that Ethan may be coming to live with us after their vacation.
I’d say that maybe they’re moving too fast, but that would be too simplistic.
There’s another tedious and unrealistic email conversation, in which Christian and Ana discuss the practicalities of disposing of Ana’s old car. She makes him angry by calling herself ‘some woman you fuck occasionally’. He says ‘you really wouldn’t like me when I’m angry’, and suddenly I think I’m in a Marvel comic.
“I’m not sure I like you anyway … Because you never stay with me.”
I shut the machine down with a flourish I don’t really feel…
How do you shut down a computer with a flourish? For that matter, how do you feel a flourish?
I will only get hurt – deep down I know this – someone who by his own admission is completely fucked up. … It must be awful to be as affected as he is…
Don’t worry, Ana, I have a feeling the overriding lesson of this story will be that A WOMAN CAN ALWAYS CHANGE A FUCKED UP MAN.
Suddenly Christian bursts into her bedroom, chased by Kate, who threatens to throw him out for being an asshole. Ana doesn’t even say anything and Kate leaves, giving Christian the evil eye.
“Part of my role is to look after your needs. You said you wanted me to stay, so here I am.”
If you can’t get him to stay for love, then duty is just as good.
“Why do you like [hitting me]?”
“I like the control it gives me, Anastasia.”
I want to take this opportunity to say that I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a dominant-submissive relationship. I’m saying there is something wrong if one half is emotionally incapable of handling it.
I pick at an imaginary spot on my mother’s blue-and-cream quilt.
Presumably the real quilt is right there, so why must you imagine part of it?
“I feel like Icarus flying too close to the sun,” I whisper.
As opposed to Icarus making a sandwich, or Icarus having a bath.
…but I can’t complain, he’s in my bed … maybe I should weep more often in front of him.
An even better plan! Skip duty and go straight to guilt. Christ.
Read Chapter Seventeen.