A/N: Ellie made me. Also 50 Shades of Grey is utter garbage that misrepresents BDSM and kink as well as providing unhealthy relationship models and it was practically begging to be parodied.
But mostly, Ellie made me.
Lucas scowled with frustration at himself in the mirror.
There was no way, the insecure yet erudite young man mused, that any woman would ever find him attractive. His brown eyes smoldered averagely from the depths of a mediocre, chiseled face, framed and highlighted by the earth-colored hair which swept, so plebian, across his brow. His body was merely slender-yet-decently-muscled, but not like a body builder or some icky werewolf.
"I hate me," he murmured aloud. "Holy hell."
The young man's inner goddess sighed and shook her head. She flopped down on his inner sofa to watch "Real House-Bacteria of Lucas' Stomach."
"After all," he continued with chagrin, "who could love a boring poet/English major with a hidden dark side like me?"
Turning away from the silvery glass, he added in a murmur, "Especially since I'm...a virgin."
"Oh?" a voice like chocolate melting on velvet and bearskin in front of a roaring fire murmured from the doorway. Lucas turned to face his lover, eyes wide as a frightened doe's.
She looked like every attractive woman in the world, averaged into one ambiguous sex goddess. Her hair was saliently black, and her ivory bosoms strained against the confines of the black leather corset that was their prison.
"A virgin. You neglected to mention that."
"I-I'm sorry, Mistress," he murmured, falling to his knees. Her lips, red and full but not like those duckface girls on Facebook, quirked into a smile.
"It will merely make this more...satisfying." Her carefully-manicured fingers toyed with the riding crop with the diamond-studded handle.
"Come along, my little man-whore," Wednesday murmured. She grabbed the leash attached to Lucas' collar- baby blue, with a little bell- and led him into the bedroom.
The door shut behind him like the door of a tomb. It was terrifying- but so exhilarating that it wasn't terrifying at the same time.
"Welcome to my Chartreuse Room of Vague Discomfort," the young CEO of a Fortune 500 company intoned. She gestured to the wall of whips, chains, polearms, and plastic explosives. Lucas' breath hitched in his throat.
His inner goddess began doing pas-de-chats of nervous excitement in tight little circles.
"Mistress, he asked in a murmur as she began tying him to the bed, "what's the safeword?"
She chuckled. "My pet- we don't need a safeword. As your dom, I know how much pain you can take better than you do. And I never, ever get carried away in the heat of the moment. Now hold still."
As the fishing wire tightened around his wrists, a shiver of excitement ran through the g-string-clad man.
"Now," she murmured in a murmur, "we begin."
Within seconds, they were both somehow undressed. Her vast pectoral pillows of femininity heaved against his manly planes as she caressed his Y-chromosomed rigidity.
"I want you inside me, love slave," she murmured harshly.
The anatomically impossible length of his love-caber slid smoothly into her delicate sex. They moved in a steadily increasing rhythm. Lucas' inner goddess switched accordingly to the Soulja Boy dance.
"The sensation is building within my loins!" he cried as the sensation built within his loins. "Holy hell!"
"I specifically pick male subs who look a certain way to get back at my abusive crack-head father!" she murmur-screamed.
Suddenly, it was as if both parties' bodies had tumbled into a pot of boiling water. They shattered metaphorically into a million quivering, Jello-style lumps of ecstasy, if you know what I mean.
It was sexy. Then he came two more times, in quick succession.
Afterwards, they lay together in the chartreuse-ness. Wednesday rested her head on Lucas' steel-like chest.
"Oh my darling," she murmured, "your pure love has redeemed me. I shall have this room walled off, marry you, and devote myself to educating poor children."
His mouth quirked into a smile. "But can we still have hot, non-SSC bondage sex?"
"Of course. Because this franchise is fifty shades of fucked up."
"Holy hell," his inner goddess murmured.
THE END
A/N: Did I mention she threatened to put Turn On The Light on hiatus if I didn't post this? Yeah. All of you had better be grateful; I just saved the best AU in the fandom.