50 Shades Freed – Epilogue

Last time we saw them, everything was hunky dory in the world of Ana and Christian: they resolved the argument over Elena, Jack was in prison, they were preparing to move into their new home and Christian was suddenly OK with the baby. Oh, and Ana was coaxing Christian back into the playroom for some more bondage fun.

Read Chapter 25.

50 Shades Freed
Epilogue

The Big House, May 2014

Oh my God, guys. It’s this year! We’re living in the future!

I lie on our tartan picnic blanket and gaze up at the sky.

I wonder whether, now they have a whole house to have sex in, they’re still doing the dirty outside.

I should feel guilty for feeling this joy, but I don’t.

Why should you? Are you not allowed to feel happiness now?

My mind drifts to our last night at our home in Escala…

Flashback to the playroom, methinks. Did they put a playroom in the new house?

The strands of the flogger skim across my swollen belly.

I don’t know, flogging her pregnant belly seems like a bit much.

His fingers slide in and out of me.
“Shall I make you come like this?”
“No.”

I didn’t think she had a say in the matter?

“Is it up to you?”
“No … No, Sir.”

Ah, there we go. The rightful balance is restored.

He pushes his index and middle fingers into my mouth. Hmm … even I taste good on his fingers.

The way that is phrased kind of implies you’ve tasted other people on his fingers.

“I want in your mouth.” His voice is soft.

You want what in her mouth? Instructions unclear.

Fortunately, it is evident to Ana what Christian wants in her mouth.

He flexes his hips, filling my mouth to the back of the throat then withdrawing quickly.

Aaaaaand … Ana has no gag reflex.

“Ah! Stop,” he says, and before I know it, he’s lifted me over to the four-poster.

He never lets her finish a blow job, like he’s afraid of letting someone else have control over his body. Fortunate though, because Ana would probably go on about how his semen tastes like milkshake or some other bullshit.

He moans, grinding into me with renewed determination. I explode around him, my orgasm going on and on and on.

Much like this tired plotline.

Afterwards, Christian lies there with his hand on Ana’s belly, feeling the baby move around.

“I think she likes sex already,” I say.

Really? REALLY? Come on, that’s just … I can’t … it’s a baby … I … ugh.

Christian frowns. “There’ll be none of that until you’re thirty, young lady.”
I giggle.

Because it’s hilarious to realise that your controlling, overbearing husband is going to do exactly the same to your daughter. Oh, do you think he’s joking? That’s sweet.

“I’m looking forward to the taste of breast milk again.”
“Christian! You are such a kinky-”

Oh yeh, he’s kinky. You were the one who said your unborn child likes sex.

Back in the meadow in the ‘future’, we learn that Ana also has a son now, called Ted.

Christian is still too overprotective. My sweet, mercurial, controlling Fifty.

Aw, just look at him ruining my children’s lives. Sigh.

Ted giggles and kisses me, then struggles out of my arms.
“Gently with Mommy,” Christian admonishes Ted.

We must not damage Daddy’s possessions. (Also, I think she’s pregnant again.)

Of course, Ted is the most beautiful and talented child on the planet.

Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Although your daughter might have something to say about that.

“I can’t believe he’ll be two tomorrow.” His tone is wistful. “Let’s have lots of children,” he says.

From yelling at her about her accidental pregnancy, to the model of a perfect dad! Christian is redeemed! I can’t believe I ever doubted him!

Christian suggests that Ana might stop working soon (oh, how surprising and unusual). Ana responds by providing a very useful potted history of what we’ve missed in her career, like the good little exposition girl she is.

“Grey Publishing has an author on the New York Times bestsellers list, the e-book side of our business has exploded, and I finally have a team I want around me.”

Yes, but you’re still a woman working. Nay, a MOTHER working. It really is disgusting and needs to stop.

“But … I like you barefoot and pregnant in my kitchen.”

Wow. Just, wow. Let’s break that one down, shall we?

– ‘I like you’: I decide where you spend your days, and it isn’t at work.
– ‘barefoot’: no shoes makes for a slow escape!
– ‘pregnant’: as a woman should be, also great for slowing her down!
– ‘in my kitchen’: the stereotypical place for a woman.
– ‘my kitchen’: the family home that they supposedly own together actually belongs to him.

It’s a masterclass in packing as much misogyny as possible into the fewest words!

“I like that, too,” I murmur.

And absolutely fair enough if you do. But you also like working and you need to tell him to STOP PESTERING YOU TO QUIT.

For a moment, I’m transported back to Teddy’s birth: the emergency caesarean.

Back in time we go!

I just want to go to sleep. But I have something important to do first … Oh yes. “I wanted to push him out myself.”

If you’re at the point where you can’t remember that you’re giving birth, you probably need to go under the knife. Sharpish.

They rush her into the operating room and give her a local anaesthetic. Then they open her up.

I feel a strange pulling deep inside. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

I should hope not.

“You have a boy, Mrs Grey.”
My Blip … Theodore Raymond Grey.

It’s a Grey family tradition: you’re named Blip when you’re inside, and then you’re given an impossibly long name as soon as you’re exposed to the air.

Back in the present, Ana tells Christian that she was just remembering Ted’s traumatic birth.

Christian blanches and cups my belly.
“I am not going through that again. Elective caesarean this time.”
“Christian, I-”
“No, Ana.”

NO, Christian. You absolutely do not decide how she gives birth. You absolutely do not get to volunteer her for surgery. NO, NO, NO.

Christian has finished setting up the wooden train set he bought Teddy for his birthday.

Wooden? I would have thought Christian would splash out on the most cutting-edge, technology-infused toys of the moment. But perhaps he’s a simple soul at heart.

He’s had Barney at the office convert two of the little engines to run on solar power.

Or maybe not.

Tomorrow we will have a family party for Ted, including Ted’s new cousin Ava, Kate and Elliot’s two-month-old daughter.

All the toxic relationships worked out for the best!

I gaze up at the view as the sun sinks.
“I love you, Mrs Grey.”
“I love you too, Christian. Always.”

Another saccharine ending and there’s still fucking ‘Shades of Christian’ to get through. Till next week, guys!


Read ‘Shades of Christian‘.

Why not let me know what you think? You can buy the book here, or the entire trilogy, if you’re a glutton for punishment. Ironically.

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4 Comments on “50 Shades Freed – Epilogue

  1. “But … I like you barefoot and pregnant in my kitchen.”

    “I like that, too,” I murmur.

    The 50 Shades Trilogy in a nutshell and there was no need for anything else, because really what was the point of all that dim-witted introspection and half-assed attempts of manufacturing a spine she never had if it was always this right from the start?

    P.S. So, E.L. actually gave herself some warped kind of shout out in the epilogue? Because you can almost see her refraining from mentioning the name of the bestseller. *rollseyes*

    And, you’re going to read SOC now… *sends you a case each of tequila, scotch, vodka* – *worries it won’t be enough*

    xoxo

    • It won’t be enough! Never enough!

      It does look mercifully short though, just tacked onto the end of my Kindle copy, so it shouldn’t be too bad.

      (Who am I kidding? It’ll always be too bad.)

  2. “But … I like you barefoot and pregnant in my kitchen.”

    (BARFS)

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