Updated on August 5, 2015
50 Shades Darker – Chapter 7
Ana is at a charity auction and, for some inexplicable reason, just bid the $24,000 Christian gave her on a property that she doesn’t want. Ah, women and hormones. What are we like?
50 Shades Darker
It must be the alcohol.
No, it must be because you’re a psycho.
… he eases my hand up his leg and against his erection. … I slowly caress him, letting my fingers explore.
If ever there was a time and place to tug someone off under a table, it’s at a charity auction.
Suddenly Mia calls to Ana that it’s time for the First Dance Auction. As far as I can tell, Ana is being auctioned off for the first dance, because there weren’t enough misogynistic overtones to this book already.
I follow Mia onto the stage, where ten more young women have assembled, and … Lily is one of them.
Oh no, that can’t possibly affect on you. I can see why you’re so upset.
Oh no. I blush from head to toe. I hadn’t realized what this meant. How humiliating!
You went ON STAGE for something called a FIRST DANCE AUCTION. Are you DENSE?
She gets all uncomfortable realising that, in order for Christian to win, he’s going to have to spend more money on her. Oh, the agony, the humiliation … I can hardly muster the energy to care.
“Twelve comely and compliant wenches.”
Jeez! I feel like I’m in a meat market.
That’s because you fucking ARE.
“First up we have the lovely Jada. She speaks fluent Japanese, is a qualified fighter pilot, and an Olympic gymnast.”
As if anyone there gives a shit.
…obviously, he’s talking complete garbage.
Ah, of course. Lie to make the women seem more accomplished than they are. Perfect.
“And now, allow me to introduce the beautiful Ana.”
Oh shit, that’s me.
Congratulations on recognising your own name.
“Ten thousand dollars.”
Aw shit, someone else is bidding for her. I didn’t see that coming AT ALL.
This is a great show, but it’s at my expense. I want to wail.
Oh, shut your face. You love it.
Christian puts in a bid of $100,000 and the stranger bows out. Meanwhile Lily is hissing and spitting in the background. Christian claims his prize and they sneak off to a back room.
Opening a white door, he ushers me into one of the bedrooms.
“This was my room,” he says.
The walls are hung with … two framed posters featuring kickboxers. One of them is Giuseppe DeNatale – I’ve never heard of him.
So why did you MENTION IT?
“I’ve never brought a girl in here,” he murmurs.
Of course you haven’t. But Ana is special and awesome and has a magic vagina so you had to.
Seeing him standing there on the royal blue carpet … it’s beyond erotic.
Is there something about royal blue that I’m missing?
In one swift move, he opens the zipper.
That’s the sign of a good zipper.
… I know he can soothe it, calm this roaring, salivating beast in me…
Best innuendo for a vagina ever.
She says she wants him to spank her. He’s in two minds about it, probably because she was a fucking bitch about it last time, but he makes her promise she’ll use the safe word if she needs to.
The pain connects directly with the ache in my belly. I moan loudly. He hits me again… This feels different than the last time – so carnal, so … necessary.
Gosh. It’s almost like he knew all along that this can feel good.
He … trails his fingers down toward my sex…
I wish she wouldn’t call it this. She’s not Nina Simone.
I come and come, convulsing around his fingers.
For like the twentieth time today.
“This is going to be quick, baby,” he murmurs and grabbing my hips, he eases out then slams into me.
So quick that she surely won’t come again.
He sets me off again, spiralling into a healing orgasm that goes on and on…
Oh, fuck off.
She has a look at his noticeboard which is filled with photos of him at various world landmarks and tickets from an amazingly eclectic mix of concerts. The collection is so obviously contrived to prove that he’s a well-rounded man. There’s also a picture of a woman who he brushes off as a person of “no consequence.” Suspiciouser and suspiciouser. They go back to the ball.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the First Dance Auction, are you ready? Take it away, Sam!”
Oh God, the band leader is literally called Sam.
The familiar strains of ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’ fill the air.
“You’re under my skin, too,” I respond. “Or you were in your bedroom.”
That’s not nice. It kind of sounds like he fucked an open wound.
“May I cut in?”
I recognize the man who bid on me at the auction.
“Anastasia, this is John Flynn.”
Am I … am I meant to know who this is?
He’s called Dr Flynn. He’s British. I had to Google him. Apparently he’s Christian’s therapist. She has a go at him for being “an expensive charlatan”, because she can be absolutely sure that this man has never helped Christian in any way. Judgemental bitch.
“I’m really a very dull person.”
“That’s very self-deprecating.”
“It’s a British trait. Part of our national character.”
No it’s not. We’re not intelligent enough for that.
When Christian comes back she teases him that the shrink ‘told her everything’. He gets all weird and says he’ll get her coat because she must want to leave him. She freaks out and says it isn’t true, then starts wondering why he said that. They’re both humourless arseholes.
Why would he think that I’d want to leave? It makes no sense.
He’s got a shady past and he lacks confidence about it. It makes perfect sense.
I head down to the tent …. I turn to see a woman dressed in a long, tight, black velvet gown.
Shit! It’s Mrs Robinson.
Oh, this should be good.
“It must be obvious to you that Christian is in love with you.”
It is, but I’m sure she hasn’t noticed.
…the iPad, the gliding, flying to see me, $100,000 for a dance. Is this love?
No. Those are particular trappings of love, available only to the super rich. Love is an EMOTION that you FEEL.
“…if you hurt him again, I will find you, lady, and it won’t be pleasant when I do.”
But Ana is so innocent and harmless. What could she possibly say that could ever hurt him? Except maybe, “You’re fucked up and I never want to see you again”.
Ana gives the bitch a taste of her own medicine, saying that she’d be waiting for her if she came looking. Then she reminds her that she molested and fucked up a fifteen year old kid. Ana will probably need some bigger underwear to contain the massive balls she’s just grown.
I stride past [Christian], saying nothing, giving him the opportunity to choose – her or me. He makes the right choice.
Ugh, when you put it like that I think he made the wrong one.
Could he look any hotter? Is it the mask or just him?
I’d forgotten they were doing all this in masks. Even funnier now.
They go back to the ball and about fifty people tell Ana how wonderful she is for making Christian so happy. There’s a fireworks display that practically makes her come again, and then they leave.
“Dr. Greene is coming to sort you out [tomorrow].”
“Dr. Greene! Why?”
“Because I hate condoms.”
“It’s my body,” I mutter.
“It’s mine too,” he whispers.
Holy fucking shit, RUN.
Yes, my body is his … he knows it better than I do.
Feminists all over the world have probably exploded reading this line.
He gives her a note from Mrs Robinson, who says Ana’s got her all wrong and suggests they go to lunch. They go back to his place or her place, I can’t tell.
“Mr. Grey, the tires on Ms. Steele’s Audi have been slashed and paint thrown all over it.”
Who would do that?
“Sawyer, take care of Miss Steele.”
What? “No, Christian – you have to stay with me,” I plead.
“Do as you’re told, Anastasia.”
Step under a bus, Christian.
Sawyer opens the foyer door to let Christian enter the apartment then shuts the door behind him.
Oh no, maybe Leila will kill him. After that horrific chapter, I hope she does.
Read Chapter Eight.