Warning: this post has even more sex in it. 

It’s a beautiful May morning, Seattle at my feet. Wow, what a view. Beside me, Christian Grey is fast asleep. Wow, what a view.

You are really not as clever as you think you are, book.

Despite having been talking about his looks for the entire book, Ana thinks this is a good time to tell us about his looks.  For those that were on the edge of their seats: he’s still pretty.

my subconscious has woken. She’s staring at me with pursed lips, tapping her foot.

Once again, the book uses this tactic to separate Ana’s reactions from Ana’s character.  It’s like a cheap cop-out, like it’s trying to say “Yeah, I know Ana should be feeling like this, that, or the other.  But I don’t wanna.”  Ana should not have these thoughts split from herself.  If she’s upset about what just happened, she should be upset, not some divorced, outside entity. 

Honest to god, it’s like the same issue from chapter one, but taken to an insanely intimate degree.  First, she can’t have enough agency to actually do things and has to get shoved into meeting Gray.  Now, she can’t even have the agency to feel things, and instead all this stuff has to happen outside her own head.  I don’t mind her being confused or wanting to separate out her thoughts if she’s feeling a bunch of conflicted emotions, but this happens constantly, so it’s not like this is a unique reaction brought on by an unusual situation. 

Ana tells us for the third time this chapter that Grey is, in fact, still sleeping.  Riveting.  I kind of wish I could join him, because at least then we’d both be unconscious.

Kate has left Ana several frantic text messages, because even though Kate knew what Ana was setting out to do (or have done to her), Ana was apparently still supposed to call.  Ana feels guilty, as if this makes her a bad person.  Why is she so dependent on others?  Really, why?  Why can she not have enough of a spine to think “calm the fuck down, Kate.  I can take care of myself, and I’m not required to tell you the details of my sex.”  Oh, wait, it’s because she can’t take care of herself.  Uhg, why do you make me hate you in so many ways, Ana?

I leave her a groveling message to tell her I am alive and have not succumbed to Bluebeard – 

I had to look this one up.  Duke Bluebeard is a figure from French folklore who serial-murdered his brides and hid them in his castle.  The story revolves around his new bride and her attempts to find out the fates of her predecessors, which she does by opening a secret room in the basement and finding the bodies. 

It’s a pretty random reference, but considering her major, I’ll let it slide. 

– well not in the sense she would be worried about – or perhaps I have. Oh this is so confusing.

Wait, nope.  No sliding anymore.  Perhaps you have been trapped by a man who keeps bodies in his basement?  Who will do the same to you if you disobey his rules?  THEN GET THE FUCK OUT.  Seriously, Bluebeard wasn’t even considered sexy in the legend.  He was repulsive and basically had to buy his wives.  There wasn’t seduction involved, no sense of the heroine wanting to go to his castle and then realizing ‘oh, fuck, he’s a murderer.’  This is seriously a bizarre comparison to make if we’re supposed to retain any sense of attraction or sympathy for Grey.  He’s not being compared to a suave villain with an unknown dark side.  He’s being compared to a mass-murdering guy whom everyone in the story knew was doing something shady to his missing wives.  This is a bad comparison to make.  It fails at every level.  If Ana honestly thinks that Grey is the irredeemable Bluebeard (no, really, he gets stabbed in the story) then she should get the fuck out.

I find two welcome hair ties at the same time in my bag and quickly tie my hair in pig­tails. Yes! The more girly I look, perhaps the safer I’ll be from Bluebeard.

You know, she’s been pretty girlish so far, and it seems to just be getting him off, so I think there’s a flaw in her plan.  But more to the point, GOD DAMNIT, STAND UP FOR YOURSELF, ANA.  This is seriously creepy as all get-out, this idea that a woman has to take refuge in her looks rather than in any action she might take.  She’s just a doll to be dressed up, and she has to hope that if she dresses up right, it’ll produce the right reactions.  If the man doesn’t pick up her cues, oh well, nothing she can do about it.  Uhg, I want to break things.

Also, the Bluebeard thing is not helping your case, book.  If you want me to accept Grey as a partner for Ana (which is already pretty impossible at this point), then stop equating him to a mass murderer. 

God, why is this book so bad?

He was eating an omelet the other day… um, yesterday at the Heathman. Jeez, so much has happened since then.

Thank you for highlighting the ridiculously compressed timeline of all this.  That really makes it so much easier for me to mock you.

My subconscious scowls at me… fucking – not lovemaking – she screams at me like a harpy. I ignore her, but deep down I know she has a point.

Oh, the grammar is making me cry.  This book is having an affair with ellipses.  More than that, though, harpy?  Now the only part of Ana that is actually concerned about Grey’s lack of care for her, the only part of her that is trying desperately to make her realize this is a bad idea, and this book goes with the word harpy?  I’m not sure I have adequate words to describe how much I hate this quote.

Why is he this way? Nature or Nurture? It’s so alien to anything I know.

Reasonable thing for someone to think in her situation.  But it makes me wonder how bad things are going to get when the book tries to come up with an answer. 

If it seems like I’m doing nothing but pulling out quotes in this chapter…well, it’s because nothing is happening.  Ana is just cooking breakfast (without being invited to use the kitchen, and where the hell is the staff?) while thinking horrible thoughts.

And now that I’ve said that, where the hell is the staff?  This book continues to fail to realize what ‘richer than god’ means.

My subconscious has doubled over in laughter at me.

ENOUGH ALREADY.

Grey shows up, and she compares him to Bluebeard again.  You know what?  Fine.  I give in, will do exactly as you asked, and consider Grey to be a mass-murdering fuckwad who keeps bodies in his basement.  It makes Ana look even crazier for staying there and feeding him bacon, but it’s not like my opinion of her could sink that much lower.

(Also, this continued referencing makes me think it’s a leftover Britishism.  Europeanism?  Either way, it’s never explained at all, and yet the text expects us to know who Bluebeard is.)

He gently pulls my pigtail.

“I love these,” he whispers. “They won’t protect you.”

Your brilliant plan of ‘protection’ hasn’t worked.  What else do you got?  Oh, nothing.  I see.  So you’re just going to roll of and show him your belly.  I hate you so, so, so very much, book.

Furthermore, Grey immediately realizes that she’s doing this because she feels she needs to protect herself.  If you have sex with someone and then the next morning can recognize that they are scared of you, then you should realize something has gone terribly wrong.  Grey is treating this as a natural course, as if it just makes sense that she’d be scared of it, and as if he doesn’t care.  Christian Grey is a bad Dom.  He’s so bad that I’m not even going to call him a Dom anymore.  It’s insulting to real-life Doms to let him carry the label.  I’m going to use the book’s own words and just call him Bluebeard every time the text tries to convince me he’s really a Dom.  Because real Doms don’t delight in making their partners scared of them.  At least, not outside of a scene, and not if they’re decent people.

Christian reaches into a cupboard and pulls out some Twining’s English Breakfast tea. I purse my lips.

“Bit of a foregone conclusion wasn’t I?”

Seriously, it’s like the most ubiquitous brand of tea in America.  If anyone has black tea and it’s not Lipton, it’s Twinning’s.  I don’t have a high opinion of the stuff, and even I have three different kinds of it in my pantry.  And on top of that, English Breakfast Tea is probably their biggest seller.  If you sent a tea newb to the grocery store and said ‘get black tea to drink in the morning,’ that’s probably the box they’d come back with.  Now if he’d pulled down some Twining’s Prince of Wales tea because it was her favorite, then I’d say he did it for her, because you actually have to look for that one.  Research is your friend, book.

I know, I know, I’m harping too much on the tea. 

Grey mentions continuing her ‘basic training,’ and Ana goes all ‘oh my’ over it and has to force herself to eat.  Is Grey trying to kill her with sex?  Because that would feed into the Bluebeard thing.  It’s implied that either he means to ‘continue’ today, or she wants to ‘continue’ today.  Maybe he’s a diabolical villain who gives women magical aphrodisiacs until they exhaust themselves to death, and they never realize that’s what they’re doing.  Like the killer dancing shoes.  I’m just going to go with this idea, because it keeps me sane.

Granted, I’m not saying it’s impossible to have sex at night and then again in the morning, but he’s not even giving her the option of recovering first.  I figure my fantasies can be at least as ridiculous as this book.

Grey did mean to continue her ‘training’ that day, and as an afterthought asks if she wants to stay.  She says yes, but that she has work the next day, so he says he’ll take her in the morning.  She protests, saying that she has to go home in the evening to get clothes and such, and he waves her off by saying that he’ll buy her new clothes.  This is perfectly in keeping with Bluebeard, who is not a Dom, but rather just tramples all over women and ignores their wishes.  Ana protests again, and he grudgingly allows her to go home in the evening.  I refuse to think well of him for this.  Stop trying to make me, book.

Grey yells at her for not finishing her breakfast and makes her eat the rest.  This isn’t a Bluebeard thing so much as a personal issue with him and food.  I’m betting that he was starved before he was adopted.  After all, the book doesn’t try to hide it.  The point about him ‘feeding the world’s poor’ in chapter one, the way he kept trying to get her to eat dinner the previous night, that was all suitably subtle.  This scene, however, is not.  He pretty much flips his shit over her not eating all of her food.

Ana gets a call from Kate, who immediately knows that she’s had sex and demands to be told every detail.  Ana says she doesn’t want to talk about it, but it doesn’t shut Kate up, Kate just keeps demanding.  Ana keeps saying ‘please,’ instead of ‘bug off’ or even ‘please stop asking.’  Just ‘please.’  I’m going to reach into the text and put this girl in a back brace if she doesn’t grow a spine soon.  It can’t be healthy to have her flopping all over like that.

Ana asks Grey if she can talk to Kate about sex (due to the NDA).

“Well, I have a few questions, you know, about sex.” I stare down at my fingers. “And I’d like to ask Kate.”

“You can ask me.”

“Christian, with all due respect.” My voice fades. I can’t ask you. I’ll get your biased, kinky-as-hell, distorted world-view regarding sex. I want an impartial opinion. “It’s just about mechanics. I won’t mention the Red Room of Pain.”

See, this is why it’s important to read things before signing them.  If she just has questions about mechanics of sex…by god, just ask questions about the mechanics of sex.  She doesn’t have to say “Hey, so Grey did this, that, and other to me.  Say, how do penises work?” or whatever her question is.  I want to yell about how an NDA doesn’t cover generalized, information-gathering conversations, but actually, I have no idea what this particular NDA states.  For all I know she can get in trouble just for hinting that Grey is kinky, or for asking questions in a way that someone could guess. 

Also, kinky people aren’t stupid.  They are capable of giving unbiased advice about sex to vanilla people.  They know the ways in which they differ from ‘normal’ people, particularly because they tend to be worried about discrimination, rejection, and biased public opinion.  On the other hand, Grey isn’t kinky.  He’s Bluebeard.

Grey continues to say no, because Kate is having sex with Elliot.  And…women are incapable of being discrete and keeping private information away from their partners?

Oh, did I say sex?

“Your room-mate is making the beast with two backs with my brother.”

Who says that when they’re not being sarcastic?  This is way out of line with the semi-formal manner in which Grey normally speaks.  There isn’t even an indication that he’s being pithy while saying it.

“I’ve never had vanilla sex before. There’s a lot to be said for it. But then, maybe it’s because it’s with you.”

No.  No, book.  Don’t do that.  Don’t you dare do that.  Don’t imply that Grey is only kinky because he’s not in love, and the Power of True Love will somehow ‘fix’ him.  I’m not that attached to this e-reader.  I will smash you.

Let’s move on before I prematurely end these reviews.

Ana and Grey have a bath together.  His bathroom is awesome.  Next.

My subcon­scious swoons and passes out somewhere in the back of my head.

Ladies and gentlemen, Ana’s sense of self-preservation has officially left the building.

Grey compliments her and tells her she shouldn’t be ashamed of her naked body.  I’m point this out because it’s about the only good thing he’s done since picking her up the previous evening. 

They take a bath.  It’s described in exacting detail.  It’s boring.  I really do not need to hear a list of all the body parts that he washes, in order.

It’s such a turn-on knowing that it’s my body making him feel this way. Ha… not your mind. My subconscious sneers. I shake off the unwelcome thought.

Don’t shake it off!  Damnit, Ana, why are you intentionally avoiding every intelligent reaction you could be having here?  It’s not even that these thoughts don’t exist.  She has them…and then shoves them aside.  It’s baffling.  I’m so confused as to why she’s doing this that I can’t even be properly outraged.

“I want you to become well acquainted, on first name terms if you will, with my favorite and most cherished part of my body. I’m very attached to this.”

Yes, Grey, we’re all well-aware of how fond you are of your dick.  You’re so fond of it, you’ve decided to turn yourself into a walking representation of a dick.

He’s sitting down in a bathtub, and his ‘erection is above the water line’.  It’s a large bathtub.  I’m now imagining a comically long penis sticking straight up like a flagpole.  He shows Ana how to give him a handjob, and she spontaneously decides to turn it into a blowjob.  As is typical in erotica, she’s perfect at it the first time.  The many, many men who have told me hilarious stories about bad blowjobs would probably take issue with this trope.  That, or laugh uproariously at it.

My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.

What does this even mean?  And what is the difference between her inner goddess and her inner subconscious?  And why the fuck can’t she just be pleased all on her own? 

Grey says he’s going to come and she’d better back off if she doesn’t want it in her mouth, but then the very next line reminds us that he’s got a firm grip on her pigtails, keeping her down, so where is she supposed to go?  Is this just a twisted mindgame, a bit of taunting?  “Haha, you’d better get out of this if you don’t really want it.  Why aren’t you struggling more?  Well, I guess you really do want it then!”  I mean, Ana doesn’t want to stop blowing  him, but it’s still just so…uhg.

Oh, fuck.  And then she bites his penis.  Apparently this is considered a good thing.  I’m sure it’s entirely possible for a man to enjoy teeth in his blowjob, but going back to those funny stories I mentioned earlier…many of them involve women who made Ana’s same assumption, only it ended in screaming. 

My inner goddess has stopped dancing and is staring too, mouth open and drooling slightly.

Your inner goddess isn’t much of a goddess.  She’s more of an inner horny 15 year-old.  (I’m not even pulling out all of these ‘inner’ quotes.  There’s just so many of them.)

They go to his bedroom, because he ‘owes her an orgasm.’

AND THEN HE TIES HER HANDS TOGETHER.

I know they’ve talked a little about this kinky stuff.  Here’s the thing, though.  Grey has only told her about his rules and his want to control her through direction.  NOT ONCE HAS HE TAKLED ABOUT WANTING TO TIE HER.  He’s shown her his playroom, full of ropes, but at absolutely no point anywhere in this story has he said “I want to tie you up and then do sexual things to you.  Is that okay?”  Not once.  There is a vast difference between power-play and bondage AND BOTH HAVE TO BE AGREED TO INDEPENDENTLY.

Before this tie?  All he does is ask Ana to say yes to their ‘arrangement,’ which she does.  But again, their ‘arrangement’ hasn’t been finalized, hasn’t been fully negotiated, and hasn’t included bondage.

Ana doesn’t bat an eye at any of this.  She’s not a sub, she’s…just a blank cardboard cut-out of a sub.

He puts her on the bed and tells her she can’t move her hands from over her head.  Then he kisses her all over.  In the process, Ana finally graduates from ‘holy crap’ to ‘holy shit.’  I guess we’re into Serious Business now.

He goes down on her, then penetrates her, and by this point I’m just skimming.  Like the last sex scene, I just don’t care.  It drags on for too long and repeats the same phrases over and over again.  To be fair, it might not feel ‘too long’ if she didn’t dither so much in the non-sex scenes, but…yeah, I’m sick of Grey’s hotness.

Fortunately, the sex finally ends.  Grey tries to convince her that if she stays with him, he’ll make her feel even better.  This strikes me as being very emotionally manipulative, because right now Ana is in a place where she’s very susceptible to suggestion, because her brain is overloaded with pleasure hormones.  Then again, I guess Ana is always suggestible.

They hear an argument outside the door between a woman and Grey’s invisible wait staff.  Or Taylor, but I thought Taylor was a personal assistant…  Eh, whatever, the woman is Grey’s mother.  Dun, dun, dun!  Oh no, how will 28 year-old Grey bear the shame of letting his mother know that there’s a girl in his house?  I’m on pins and needles, really.