Fifty Ways to Truss Your Lover (pgs. 301-350)

How many submissives does it take to insert a butt plug?

As many as the dominant says it takes.

Bada-bing. I’ll be here all week!

Before this goes any further, I would like you all to address me as “Sir” in the comments. Or “Lord Voldemort” or “Rubberface Gimp Monkey” or “Chunkstyle”…you know what? Just forget it, I’m too wishy washy to make it as a dominant.

Don’t look me in the eyes.

In this installment of 50 Shades of Tears I’ve Shed, Christian and Ana revisit the red room of pain. To read how we got to this point, click on these recraps or do something pleasurable instead:

Before Christian can chain, truss, knot and braid Ana’s pubic hair, he first lets her visit a lady doctor to examine her nether regions and put her on the pill so he does not have to order elephantiasis-sized condoms from Oriental Trading anymore. The doctor tells Christian to look after Ana as one would a sweet, brain damaged dog. That is, like, so crap sweet.

Now it’s riding crop time! “He’s just sex on legs,” says Ana.


Ana’s inner goddess has picked up a couple of pom poms and borrowed a cheerleading outfit from the set of Glee.

Christian peels off Ana’s clothes leaving her clad only in panties, and makes her kneel–eyes downcast of course–in the corner. No one puts baby in a corner says the ghost of Patrick Swayze.

Too soon?

Christian changes into acid-wash jeans (Holy fuck hot! Ana predictably thinks). He peels off her panties and sniffs them vigorously. I wish I was making this up, but alas, I am not:

He chains her up to a William Sonoma® pot rack and smacks her “down there” with a riding crop. Of course, this causes explosions to rocket through her body:

Throughout this panty-sniffing, Ana desperately wants to lick Christian’s chest. Hot, right? Sure.

Christian is not finished with Ana. He knocks her down like a piñata from the pot rack and secures her wrists with a cable tie. He takes her to bed and has her grasp onto the bed post. He tells her she has a “sexy ass.”

Christian takes Ana, panties-less, to meet his family for dinner. The Grey house is all wood floors and antique rugs with sweeping staircases. That sounds…weird. There’s no furniture? They mutter and murmur at each other. Christian’s sister Mia is a bit different in that she chooses to shriek her remarks. She is not a pomeranian puppy to clear up any confusion, but a full-grown adult woman.

Apparently there is a dining room table. They all sit around it and eat corn dogs–except Christian:

Ana’s subconscious reacts:

Christian becomes enraged when Ana tells his dad she might go see her mother in Georgia. He clamps his hand like a genital clamp on Ana’s thighs. “C’mon I wanna show you my spanking hand…er…rowing trophies,” Christian glowers and seethes. He takes Ana to the boathouse to have his way with her:

I can’t tell you how much this reminds me of the time I first met my husband’s family…well except for the rowing trophies part.

Holy crap farts!


    1. It warms my heart to know I’m doing some good in the world. . . or that could be the alcohol I have to consume in order to do my good deeds.

    1. I’m thinking with all this public service I’m doing, I should create my own nonprofit or something to help those who cannot stomach horrible writing, but want to know the general plot of terribly popular books.

  1. I haven’t read this book but I agree with the last 2 comments. I AM curious as to why it has become so popular though. Hell, I can write smut (have a collection of short erotic stories published) but I never thought of turning a story into a novel.

    1. I could see maybe buying the first book if you have never been exposed to any excerpts and your grandmother’s been raving about it. But why would anyone buy the next two, asks the person who will likely buy the next two.

  2. LMAO I really wish you could hear me read these posts – the “LMAO” does not lie. “…elephantiasis-sized condoms from Oriental Trading” and Richard Simmons and Hamburger Helper in the play room, HA!!

    The descriptions of the playroom [in the actual book] were frustrating. I was confused enough when Laura Ingalls tried to explain making headcheese.

  3. I think this is my favorite one so far…and not just because you brought back Richard Simmons in that jelly bean pompom shirt. Hamburger Helper is perhaps my favorite marketing mascot ever. I think you just inspired a new blog post…my favorite marketing mascots. Thanks a crapload.

  4. Holy single, double, triple, quadruple crap! My subconscious stumbled onto this blog (Sadly, I have no inner goddess), and I almost came ‘down there’ by reading this series of 50 Shades of Holy-Crap-That’s-Funny-Hot!

    I have a confession to make, Lord Voldemort, my steely-hard-grey-length brain didn’t function past chapter one of the “original” 50 Shades of Utter Bullshit. So, thank you for whipping up this series of Cliff Notes meets parody of the must-not-be-named book. I hope your inner goddess hasn’t Avada’d herself in the process.

    [Short Version of this two paragraph comment: You made me laugh and well… almost fall in love with you.]

    1. I am so sorry to hear your lack of inner goddess. My inner goddess weeps for you and my inner goddess’s inner goddess is humping a chair (she’s a bit odd), and my inner goddess’s inner goddess’s inner goddess is writing a stern letter to IGA (Inner Goddess Association) to get you one immediately.

      I will then make a horcrux out of it,
      Lord Voldemort

      1. Damn. I wish there was a like button on comments. Hmm…

        speaker7’s reply to UniSciKill on August 19, 2012 at 8:09 pm was LIKED by UniSciKill on August 19, 2012 at X:XX pm.

        Please, don’t trouble your inner goddess’s inner goddess’s inner goddess to get me an inner goddess. I asked my doctor about getting an inner goddess and he asked his inner leech’s inner leech’s inner leech what he thought. Surprisingly, the inner leech’s inner leech’s inner leech said I wasn’t healthy enough to handle one.

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