Updated on May 24, 2015
50 Shades of Grey – Chapter Eighteen
Before we can AT LAST get to Christian’s playroom, we must first follow Ana to her gynaecological exam. EL James’ is really making us work for this, isn’t she? It is for you, dear reader, that I am enduring this torture.
50 Shades of Grey
Dr Greene is tall, blond, and immaculate, dressed in a royal-blue suit.
Who cares? She’s shortly going to have her head up your skirt.
We shake hands, and I know she’s one of those women who doesn’t tolerate fools gladly.
Cliché bingo! And it’s a cliché we had earlier in the book.
Like Kate. I like her immediately.
You LIKE Kate?
Mercifully the details of the examination are skipped over, and Ana decides to go on the mini pill. Hooray. This is like a horribly extended safe sex pamphlet.
“She said that I have to abstain from all sexual activity for the next four weeks.”
Christian’s mouth drops open in shock…
Oh Ana, you are a card.
“As much as I’d like to take you here and now…”
Yes, go on then!
“…you need to eat and so do I.”
Oh for CHRIST’S sake. How much more of this?
The breakfast bar is laid for two. Christian takes a salad bowl from the fridge.
I poke pins in my arms to keep myself awake.
“Chicken Caesar salad okay with you?”
SEX SALAD IS OK WITH ME.
Oh thank heavens, nothing too heavy.
LIKE HIS PENIS! Please, just get on with it.
No man is an island, I muse – except perhaps Christian Grey.
He still needs you about to rarely have sex with, so no, he is not an island.
“And will you remember to take it regularly, at the right time, every day?”
No. I am an idiot and want to bear you many children.
His look goes from dark to smoldering…
So he looks a bit angry and then his face sets on fire?
“…right now, I just want to tie you up and fuck you senseless. Are you ready for that?”
Actually, I’m not. I don’t think there’s been enough of a build-up.
…I am once more in the Red Room of Pain.
Well, this had better be worth the wait.
“Take your shoes off…”
He bends and picks them up and deposits them beside the door. … He places [my dress] on the large chest beside the door.
Good stuff. Is the dress folded? What does the chest look like?
Pulling my hair behind me, to my surprise, he starts braiding it in one large braid…
Break out the face packs and girly magazines, it’s a sleepover!
…my breathing shallow, fear and longing mixed together.
There are a lot of obvious descriptions about how Ana is both afraid and turned on. It’s a truly original idea, worthy of repeating as many times as EL James does.
“When I tell you to come in here, I expect you to kneel over there… Place your hands and forearms flat on your thighs. Good. Now part your knees. Wider. Wider. Perfect. Look down at the floor.”
I know this is complicated, but try not to fall over.
Time shifts. I have no idea how long he leaves me like this.
Time shifts? Because you’re left alone for a bit? Are you a baby?
I give him my hand. He turns it palm up, and before I know it, he swats the center with a riding crop.
Mmm, erotic palm whipping.
I blink and try for impassive. I succeed.
Congratulations on mastering control of your own face.
“This grid is designed so the shackles move across the grid.”
I glance up. Holy shit – it’s like a subway map.
All aboard at Cockfosters, southbound to Marylebone via Mudchute!
I’m entrusting myself to a beautiful man who, by his own admission, is fifty shades of fucked up.
Keep referencing your own title. It is never ever tacky.
He walks around me again, trailing the crop around the middle of my body … he suddenly flicks the crop, and it hits me underneath my behind … against my sex. …it’s the sweetest, strangest, hedonistic feeling. …when he hits my clitoris, I cry out loudly.
For someone so afraid of pain, she seems to handle a whip to the vagina quite well.
He pushes the tip of the crop into my mouth … I can taste the rich leather and the saltiness of my arousal.
Just like in her dream. WOW, it’s like fantasy made real!
“Shall I make you come? … With this?” He holds up the crop so I can see it.
Oh, this I have to see.
Moving down, soft small licks against my clitoris once, twice, three times, again and again, until finally that’s it – I can take no more – and I come, gloriously, loudly…
Really? This is almost as ludicrous as that scene in ’40 Days and 40 Nights’ when he makes her orgasm by stroking her with a flower. A flower!
“Lift your legs, baby, wrap them around me.”
With one thrust he’s inside me … I feel the build up again. Jeez, no … not again…
Not again? You don’t want another (quote) “earth-shattering” orgasm? Are you mad?!
Christian follows, shouting his release through clenched teeth…
“You see, most of your fear is in your head, Anastasia. Would you do it again?”
Stop repeating and just ANSWER THE QUESTION.
I am utterly spent and fighting an overwhelming desire to sleep.
She is disproportionately exhausted from having stood up for a bit.
Will he let me sleep, perchance to dream?
SHAKESPEARE! THIS IS REAL WRITING BECAUSE QUOTES!
I notice he has a few random and faint small, round scars dotted around his chest.
Ooh, mystery. Probably nothing to do with his previous life as a submissive.
He takes a cable tie and fastens it around my wrists, tightening the plastic.
“Look familiar?” he asks.
Ohmygod, it’s the very cable tie she sold him!
He leads her to the bed and has her hold onto one of the bedposts. Then he makes her bend down, smacks her a bit and takes her from behind.
He eases out of me slowly, and his other hand grabs my hip, holding tight, and then he slams into me, jolting me forward.
“Hold on, Anastasia!”
Thar she blows!
“I declare this Ana open,” he breathes, and cuts the plastic.
Such wit. I can barely wait for the next chapter.
Read Chapter Nineteen.