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“You want to be [punished]?”
How does he know? “Depends,” I mutter, flushing.
SINCE WHEN DO YOU WANT TO BE PUNISHED.
WHAT IS HAPPENING.
APPARENTLY WHEN YOU GET MARRIED YOU JUST TURN INTO A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PERSON IN THIS UNIVERSE.
“On what?” He hides his smile.
“If you want to hurt me or not.”
“Anastasia, you’re my wife, not my sub. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
THIS JUST IN: APPARENTLY BDSM MEANS THAT YOU WANT TO HURT THE OTHER PERSON.
YOU KNOW WHAT THAT IS? THAT’S CALLED ABUSE, MOTHERFUCKERS. WANTING TO HURT SOMEONE IS CALLED BEING AN ABUSIVE CATEGORY 5 SHITSTORM OF A PERSON.
AND THAT KIND OF ABUSIVE BULLSHIT DOESN’T JUST GO AWAY WHEN YOU MARRY SOMEONE.
EVEN IF IT DOES. THAT MEANS THAT CHRISTIAN HAS BEEN ABUSIVE TO 15 OTHER WOMEN IN HIS LIFE. HE’S HAD 15 SUBS. 15 WOMEN HE’S WANTED TO HURT BECAUSE THEY WERE HIS SUBS.
FUCK THIS SHIT STRAIGHT DOWN TO THE BOTTOM OF THE MARIANAS TRENCH WHERE IT CAN BE BURIED AND FORGOTTEN AND CRUSHED UNDER THE MASSIVE PRESSURE.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: IF YOU ARE IN A BDSM RELATIONSHIP AND YOUR DOM SAYS THAT THEY “WANT TO HURT YOU” THAT IS A PROBLEM. BDSM IS ABOUT CONTROL, IT’S ABOUT PAIN TOLERANCE, IT’S ABOUT TRUST AND COMMUNICATION AND ABOUT A MILLION OTHER THINGS. IT IS NOT ABOUT PURPOSEFULLY INFLICTING PAIN AGAINST YOUR WILL.
They start drinking their gin and tonics, and discussing who owns the boat. Nothing of interest happens. Ana starts feeling weird about how much money Christian has, and how all of that money is now hers too.
WHOOPSIDAISIES WE GET ANOTHER FLASHBACK.
Ughh can we stop with all of these fucking time jumps. For the love of god. It’s not cool or interesting or clever. It’s just confusing and stupid and it makes it look like you’re trying too hard.
We flash back to some kind of family breakfast with Christian’s family. The topic of a prenup is brought up, and Christian says he refuses to have one. I mean, we all know Christian and Ana will never leave each other, not until one of them dies (please let it be Christian first), so I guess a prenup isn’t necessary, but it’s not the worst idea. Christian is, of course, horribly offended by the suggestion, which was brought up by his father, Carrick.
Christian leans over and tells Ana that it’s not about her, that Carrick is being weird because of all the stuff with Elena, and Christian is all “I wish my mom had kept her mouth shut.” What, like you expect your mom to just not tell her husband that their adoptive son was sexually abused for 6 years by one of their friends? I know you’re bad at communicating, Christian, but most people actually tell their significant others about things.
Ughhh and now they’re talking about how awful it would be if either of them left the other one.
YOU’D FUCKING SURVIVE. JESUS. YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE IF YOU LOSE EACH OTHER.
Flash back to the present, on the boat. Apparently Christian never mentioned the prenup again. Ana starts thinking about money some more.
My bikini alone cost five hundred and forty dollars.
IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?
I GET PISSED ABOUT THE FACT THAT MY BIKINIS COST $15 FOR EACH SEPARATE PIECE.
AND YOU’RE…WHAT THE FUCK. $500. This is literally insane. What is even happening. I know this whole story is all about wish fulfillment and everyone who reads it and likes it likes the idea of being that rich, but that is just outrageous.
“You will get used to it,” Christian interrupts my reverie as he resumes his place at the table.
“Used to it?”
“The money,” he says, rolling his eyes.
What an over-privileged piece of shit.
Why do you have so much goddamned money, Christian. Why don’t you donate some to people that actually need it, instead of spending $500 on a goddamned swimsuit for your wife.
“Drink up. We’re going to bed.”
“Drink,” he mouths at me, his eyes darkening.
Yup. Christian is getting Ana drunk before they have sex. This isn’t rape-y or creepy at all.
His mouth drops open, and I glimpse the tip of his tongue between his teeth. He smiles lewdly at me.
Is that…is that even a face you can make? How are you biting your tongue and smiling lewdly…
Christian tells Ana not to pee before they have sex. I’ve heard that makes your orgasm better somehow, but it just sounds like a bad time to me. It also sounds like a 1-way ticket to UTI-Town, which is not a nice place to visit. 0/10, would not recommend.
They head to the bedroom, where Christian pulls out an eyemask and two pairs of…handcuffs. Metal ones. Not even the fuzzy kind, or the leather kind, or really any of the kinds that are specifically meant for sexy stuff.
“These can be quite painful. They can bite into the skin if you pull too hard.” He holds up one pair. “But I really want to use them on you now.”
Holy fuck. My mouth goes dry.
“Hey, wife, these things can REALLY hurt, but I want to use them on you, even though you hate pain. Lol this is going to be great!”
Are you kidding meee.
They start discussing safe words again.
“Stop won’t be enough because you will probably say that, but you won’t mean it.”
Um. How do YOU know she won’t mean it, asshole.
“This is not going to hurt. It will be intense. Very intense, because I am not going to let you move. Okay?”
What. What happened to the “THESE HANDCUFFS ARE PAINFUL” thing. If the handcuffs can be so painful, HOW THE FUCK IS THIS NOT SUPPOSED TO HURT.
STOP CONTRADICTING YOURSELF.
WHAT THE FUCK.
Ana chooses a safeword (popsicle), and they get to work.
I turn, and he undoes my bikini top so that it falls to the floor.
“Tomorrow, I will staple this to you,” he mutters and tugs on my hair tie, freeing my hair.
I’m sure he means that as a joke, but, coming from Christian Grey, I’m not so sure he doesn’t mean it.
Christian handcuffs Ana’s right arm and right ankle together, and does the same on the left.
This feels weird–being trussed up and helpless–on a boat.
I’M ON A BOAT, MOTHERFUCKER, DON’T YOU EVER FORGET.
I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.
So Christian starts teasing Ana a whole bunch, which would be totally fine if he weren’t using it as a fucking punishment for disobeying him.
Sex shouldn’t be a punishment, y’all. Christian is a bag of scrotums.
And then Christian starts asking “Why do you defy me, Ana?” and he keeps demanding an answer, and then he starts fucking her, and he still keeps asking her because he “needs to know”, and finally she cries out “I don’t know! Because I can! Because I love you!”
This relationship is so fucking weird, man.
And then they both cum, and, as always, it’s the most mindblowing orgasm in the entire world, and I think Ana might actually be having a seizure right now.
They fall asleep.
Ana wakes up, needing to pee. Apparently the boat is on the move now, and they’re heading to Cannes. Ana puts on a robe and heads to the bathroom.
As I absentmindedly wash my hands at the vanity unit, recalling last night at the Casino, my robe falls open. I stare at myself in the mirror, shocked.
Holy fuck! What has he done to me?
-End of Chapter Two-
This marriage seems like a good one. Definitely not abusive or alarming in any way.
I’m not sure if I’ll be able to post chapter 3 on Friday. I’ll do my best, but no guarantees.
Ugh. Reading about how awful Christian is is physically draining. I feel like I need to go take a nap, holy shit.