Updated on May 24, 2015
50 Shades of Grey – Chapter Twenty Four
Christian revealed all sorts of shit in the last chapter: he has paid for sex, he went to a sort of ‘school for submissives’, and Ana is his seventeenth submissive (but not his seventeenth lay, BY ANY MEANS). I didn’t mention any of this in my last summary, because it came right at the end and I had important stuff to do, like scraping out the freezer.
50 Shades of Grey
Christian stands in a steel-barred cage.
Ooh er. Tell me they’re back in the Red Room of Pain.
“Eat,” he says, his tongue caressing the front of his palate as he enunciates the t.
Oh yeh, baby, say that sexy sexy letter again. Your articulation is so hot.
…but I’m tethered, held back by some unseen force…
So help me, if this is another dream.
My eyes flicker unwillingly open…
What is this, like the third chapter that’s started with a dream? Please try harder.
…his sweet voice spreads like warm melted caramel through my veins.
Such a sickly image, I threw up.
“I want to chase the dawn with you,” he says…
When I’ve just been woken from a deep sleep I’m not in the mood for romance. I’m in the mood for murdering.
“If you have a shower, I’ll want one with you, and … the day will just go.”
No, it won’t. In every previous sex scene you’ve both ‘found your release’ within a matter of seconds. You’ll lose ten minutes of the day at best.
…Christian Grey’s underwear – a trophy to add to my collection – along with the car, the Blackberry, the Mac…
Since when is a collection a load of crap a person DOESN’T WANT?
Freud would … probably die trying to deal with Fifty Shades.
Freud would probably die trying to READ Fifty Shades.
He shows her to his sports car and off they drive, to a surprise location. Christian plays music from La Traviata (‘The Fallen Woman’) on his iPod, then tells her to choose; she picks Toxic by Britney Spears. These two are as subtle as an electric shock to the scrotum.
“It was Leila … who put [that] song on my iPod.”
An ex … an ex-submissive? An ex–
Yes, an ex. He has exes. Are we not over this by now?
“I’ve only had [four] long-term relationships … apart from Elena. Mrs Robinson to you.”
Holy fuck. The evil one has a name and it’s all foreign sounding.
1) The fact she has a name does not merit a ‘holy fuck’.
2) What does the fact it sounds faintly foreign have to do with ANYTHING?
…his sudden, unprecedented attack of candor. Perhaps it’s the early morning? Something in the Georgia water? The Georgia air?
Maybe it was something he ate? Or the shirt he’s wearing? Or those socks you put in the wash three days ago? Oh wait, nobody gives a fuck.
They arrive at an airfield and meet a man called Benson, some sort of technical plane dude.
Gliding! We’re going gliding?
Apparently ‘chasing the dawn’ is a euphemism for the only thing more terrifying than a plane: a plane WITHOUT AN ENGINE.
Must be something in the Savannah water that makes these men loosen up a bit.
…I can tell from his accent that he’s British.
Oh, you couldn’t tell from his eyebrows then? Or his wrists?
There are some obvious comments when he STRAPS her into the glider and there’s a BIG STICK THING in front of her. Geddit? ‘Cos he’s into BDSM. Oh, whatever.
Oh my. This is amazing, above us only sky. … I remember José rambling on about “magic hour”.
Yeh, bloody José chatting about the beauty of nature and emotions and shit.
The plane banks and turns as the wing dips, and we spiral toward the sun. Icarus. This is it. I am flying close to the sun…
EHRMAGERD!!! THE ICARUS ANALOGY, DO YOU GET IT???
“See the joystick in front of you?” he shouts again.
I look at the stick that is jerking between my legs.
I find myself walking beside him, hand in hand … It reminds me of when I was ten and spent the day at Disneyland with Ray.
Now where’s Freud when you need him?
They go to International House of Pancakes for breakfast and SEX. Not really, they just give each other filthy looks across the table, in front of the waitress, instead. Then he takes her back to her mother.
Why do I want to spend every single minute with this controlling sex god?
Um … because he’s a controlling sex god?
Later that evening, Christian is coming round to dinner with Ana and her mother.
Christian likes meat…
Yeh, he does.
“I’m calling to offer you the job of assistant to Mr Jack Hyde.”
Note to self: in my next interview, be shit and I will certainly get the job.
“I have to return to Seattle. Something’s come up.”
Phone call no. 2: Christian can’t make dinner. Ana’s life is over.
Oh no. The last “situation” he had was my virginity. Jeez, I hope it’s nothing like that.
So, you think he has to rush back to Seattle to urgently deal with someone’s virginity?
Mom and I are lying beside the pool. My mother has relaxed to the point where she is literally horizontal now that Mr Megabucks is not coming to dinner.
Ironic, given that this would have been the perfect position for meeting Mr Megabucks.
What could have changed? I sit up suddenly … He had dinner with … her. Elena. Holy fuck!
Oh no! Then he’s definitely lost forever! That woman he doesn’t care about any more! Oh God, I don’t care.
What did I say in my sleep? Crap … some unguarded remark while dreaming about him, I bet.
Oh yeh, he’s told her that she talks in her sleep. This morning they were joking about it, but now it’s a source of TREMENDOUS PARANOIA for Ana.
There is some emailing, which gets a little playful (and is also sheer nonsense).
Are you growling at me, Miss Steele?
I possess a cat of my own for growlers.
I hear another ping from my computer. I am not going to look.
Yes, you are.
No, definitely not.
Yes, you definitely will.
No, I am not going to look.
Stop pissing about and look.
Gah! Like the fool I am, I cannot resist the lure of Christian Grey’s words.
Like the character you are, you cannot resist the lure of moving the story on.
“I’d rather hear you say the words that you uttered in your sleep when you’re conscious…”
Maybe she said ‘I love you’. That would be utterly predictable.
Read Chapter Twenty Five.