Fifty Types of Dreck – or, that “book” series everyone loves for some reason – Chapter 12

Chapter 12. Ana goes for a run, and thinks, because she hasn’t yet done so. She listens to Snow Patrol. Is she able to totally submit? Why is Grey the way he is? “Is it because he was seduced at such a young age?” Is that what we’re calling it now? She decides to email her thoughts and then discuss on Wednesday.

Kate models her holiday clothes for Ana. Ana feels inadequate and sorry for herself. She emails her tormentor, “Okay, I’ve seen enough. It was nice knowing you,” then laughs at her “joke.” Too late, it dawns in her pea-brain that he would probably take this seriously.

He doesn’t email her back right away, so she starts the packing her lazy ass should have been doing. While she’s oblivious, Grey comes in and watches her from the doorway, feeling that her email “warranted a reply in person.” He sits on her bed, and compliments the coziness of her room. He’s still at the hotel, which is how he stalked her – I mean, came over so quickly. Ana thought he’d reply by email, and because thoughts are trying desperately to escape that morass she calls a brain, she bites her lip. Grey asks if it’s deliberate, but she’s unaware. How can you NOT know?

Grey reaches up and undoes her pigtails, lightly pulls on her earlobes, asking about the exercise. She was thinking about him, and he wants to know if the “knowing” part was “in the Biblical sense.” Ana makes a comment about Grey’s proclivities not being in the Bible. Are you sure you’ve read it yourself? This amuses him, and he says that he thought he would “come and remind [her] how nice it was knowing [him].” Again, that’s not stalker-y at all. Maybe she was serious and didn’t want to see him again. It’s not like she’d tell Kate or anything. But apparently, I’m reading too much into a book of ladyporn.

Ana tries to “launch” herself at him, and of course he moves so that he’s atop her and has her arms pinned. “I revel in the force he uses.” Make up your damned mind. Either you want it or you don’t; this is so obnoxious. But it’s because this man wants her – a bland-faced idiot with bottom-of-the-barrel self esteem. He asks if she trusts him, and she nods; he reaches in his pocket and – what do you know? – here’s that tie again. He puts her wrists together and then ties them to her headboard. That’s an impressive tie! He starts taking off her sneakers, which would expose her stank feet, so she freaks and kicks out. If she keeps it up, he threatens to tie her feet, and if she makes any noise, he’ll gag her. And she’s biting her lip again.

Grey blindfolds her with her t-shirt and then leaves her room to get a drink. He gives her some wine from his mouth. That’s not a euphemism – he sips the drink, then essentially feeds it to her. And with that, we have baby-bird porn. He puts ice in her mouth, then kisses down her body, putting ice and wine in her belly button. If she moves, she’ll get wine on her bed, and he’ll punish her. He teases her breasts with ice-cold lips. He won’t let her orgasm if she spills wine; she begs him calling him “Sir.” Of course, he touches her in such a way that she can’t help but spill. He cleans it up and then begins machinations with his hand, drawing away when she gets close. Her punishment. He keeps emphasizing the word “nice,” in reference to her email, in case you’ve already forgotten. Forgive me, this “plot” has so many nuances. She finally begs enough that he decides to let her let go. She tells him it was a joke, and he flips her over while she’s still tied to the bed, pushes her until she’s ass-up, slaps her, then forces himself inside. Of course, she’s Instant Orgasm over and over, and just when she thinks she can’t take anymore, he continues this rodeo until she goes around one more time in ridiculous ways, such as “I shatter again into tiny fragments.” Someone get out the Krazy Glue.

Conversation follows, the gist of which is he doesn’t like the word “nice;” he doesn’t like to be touched; and she’s still thinking about his contract. Ana wants to know if he’ll collar her; he never has before, but it was done to him. She’s jealous that Grey has someone to talk to about his lifestyle, but she can’t. He offers to let her talk to one of his former subs, but she refuses. This is stupid jealousy talking, Ana – you want to find out what makes the sadist tick, ask the masochist. Then she asks if he’s staying. He repeats that he doesn’t do that, so she says she’s tired, essentially telling him to leave. He’d like to give her a good “hiding,” and I think about whether anyone here in the States actually uses that term on a regular basis. If not, that’s another one in a series of British expressions our supposedly all-American girl has used. Dear fan-fic author, you should fire your beta.

Anyway, she tells him he can’t say things like that – contract is still blank. Why do I have the feeling that Things Will Happen without it? Oh, because they already have. As she walks him out, her emotions are in a state. Oh, my! She’s not angry, but wishes he were “normal” and that she wasn’t “an empty vessel to be filled at his whim.” He wants to know what she’s doing to him. She wants to touch him, but knows she can’t. She goes to her room and cries. Kate comes in to assuage her fragile ego.

Ana shocks Kate by saying, “He just came here to fuck me, that’s all.” Kate says he is “weird,” and has “commitment issues.” Well, yes, in a manner of speaking. Ana wishes she could unburden herself, but she can’t, so she asks about Elliot. Who is normal. We get it! Ana’s mom can’t come to graduation, and then Ana says she’s going to bed, but instead makes more notes on the contract. She emails her issues to Grey: one month trial, not three; not every weekend; no whipping, etc.; why can’t she look him in the eyes or touch him? Basically, all to show the reader that she’s still not getting the point of a D/s relationship. She argues the rules (about food, et cetera), and the soft limits. She doesn’t know what suspension is. I thought you were looking these things up? He orders her to go to bed via an email, and she obeys. Yup, you are definitely a doormat.

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