Ok. Ok. Ok. Now what? Well? I rap my knuckles over the top of my head, then all around it. Maybe the pain will wake up something in there.

I don't want to turn off. I need to turn on. I am not living a television character's life. I am Anastasia Rose Steele. I am suffering under the delusion that I can have a sane and safe relationship with an unstable BDSM billionaire. I am, or at least for a minute was, contemplating how to kill his BDSM ex Domme / Sub business partner. Killing aside, I've gathered together a talented group of people to torture her.

So I'm an insane bitch. Check.

My Conscience smiles at me. It's all right, Ana. You can step back from the precipice; you don't have to get payback any more than you already have.

She thinks about it, then goes on. Christian Grey is an incredibly handsome man, terribly damaged. But he's trying to change, for you. At least enough so that you'll have an affair with him, an actual dating and kinky sex affair.

Now she lets me think on that before going on. You have all the experience of a new stick of butter on a butter dish. He's just your first experience, the first knife to cut off a pat to butter his roll. You're attracted by his charisma and good looks, Ana. And that's all right. I never expected you to marry your first boy. Did you?

My Inner Goddess, so beautiful and ready for adventure, joins in. For once, they are sitting peacefully together, identical twins, talking this out. We can learn so much. Things we want, secretly, and now that we know there are such things, to learn. He's already taught you what an orgasm feels like. And we certainly will never have to question if we want to be beaten and humiliated, will we?

They share an understanding smile, with each other, and with me. Who else has made me sit up and notice him, my Inner Goddess goes on. I've been here all along and he's the first so far. It's time for me, and you Ana, to have a boyfriend. And I am picking him.

I smack my head six more times and my SubConscience appears. She sits down on the other side of my Goddess. Triplets. For the first time, I look at myself and see someone, not beautiful, but pretty enough to catch a boy – no … I am pretty enough to catch a man's eyes. I've got good hair, thanks to ProActive I have a decently smooth complexion, and thanks to Ray picking up a part-time job when I was twelve, my teeth have been orthodontic straightened. I work hard at keeping thin and Carla passed on a decent sized pair of boobs.

My SubConscience finally weighs in. Have sex. Have kinky sex. No serious S&M or B&D. If you fall in love, more in love, I'll be here to fix your broken heart.

Christian bursts through the bathroom door. He's in that white hotel robe with a few smears of what looks like that fancy strawberry dessert I was planning to get a few bites of. Oh well. My mind is right. He's simply beautiful. Six feet two inches, not a bit of extra weight on that muscled, oh so perfectly muscled, form. His red hair is long and has a tendency to tumble around like he's had wildly passionate sex ten minutes ago. And those silver-river eyes are hypnotic when they aren't firing live rounds of fury and disgust. He's beautiful. What woman didn't stop and stare, think of how his mouth would feel on her? How his fingers could arouse her.

My tears are long past, at least a minute, and I let my Inner Goddess, the part of me not afraid to experience passion, take over. She gently lifts the corners of my mouth, pulls down my bottom lip so it pouts just slightly. "Enjoy an orgasm or two, Ana."

My Conscience is in the kitchen. She takes a cold stick of butter, silver wrapped, out of a refrigerator, takes a knife, and slices off a tablespoon. Then she winks. "Butter that roll, Ana."

My SubConscience examines both Christian's STD report and the Lunelle birth control pamphlet. "Go for it, Ana."

Christian is frozen in the doorway, staring at me like I've terrified him.

I smile at him with my one good and one blackened eye. But I hold up a hand to make him stay where he's at. "Will you make love to me? Like you should have when I told you it was my first time. Like you should have … instead of using that belt." My voice drops. I had set myself up for both of those, foolishly. This last time was all on Christian. "Can you make love to me, Christian Grey, like you should have after our first real date? Without hurting or humiliating me."

And he holds out his hand.