51 Shades of Grey by the Snowqueen's Alter-Icedragon

In tribute to fan fiction, which propelled 50 Shades of Grey to sell 100 million copies and spawn a blockbuster movie, I present 51 Shades of Grey, a fan fiction (of satirical sorts) alternate ending.

...it sounds like a hundred voices singing, weaving an ethereal tapestry of fine, silken gold and silver through my head, mixed with the feel of the soft suede against my skin... trailing over me... oh my... abruptly, it disappears. Then suddenly, sharply, it bites down on my belly.

"Aagghh!" I cry out. It takes me by surprise, and it doesn't exactly hurt, but tingles all over, and he hits me again. Harder.

I throw back my head and arch my back as I murmur through the the astral, seraphic voices of his iPod on repeat, "Ouch, that hurt." 

The word "Yellow" is poised on my tongue. I bite my lip to keep it in. I want... I want him to...

An insistent hard rapping on the door echos through the playroom.

"Go away!" Christian snarls. "I'm busy."

My whole body tightens in anticipation of whatever is going to happen.

Taylor's voice is harsh as it rips through the keyhole. "It's the zombie hoard. They are in the foyer. Jesus, Christian, they say it is time for you to rise up and be their king."

"What in the fuck are they talking about, Christian?" Taylor sounded stressed.

My thighs clenched involuntarily.

"God dammit!" Christian barks. The oath sounds vicious on his lips. "I knew this day would come."

I feel a distinct sense of foreboding enter my quivering naked chest. What could Christian mean by this? He was always so distant... so aloof...

Beneath my blindfold, my oh so acute hearing picked up the clatter of the flogger as it skips across the floor from Christian's angry thrust.

There is a rustling of clothing, angry footsteps, and then a slamming of the playroom door.

I am alone.

Just me and my inner goddess.

Out of nowhere, there is a harsh and ugly sound. Like someone rubbing sticky fingers over a taunt balloon.

Seconds later, my blindfold is released.

I gasp at the scene that presents itself. My inner goddess bites at her lip.

The butterflies in my stomach are swirling around like a tornado in my belly.

There is a gorgeous older woman standing before me. She is dressed from head to toe in black leather and latex. It molds itself to her perfect curves. In one hand she holds a sparkly wand, in the other, a scary and cruel looking bullwhip.

My inner goddess quails at the sight.

I gasp again.

"Who are you?" I whisper in awe.

"Who do you think, Anastasia?" The woman waves her wand in a fanciful series of circles.

"I have a wand. I have a head of grey hair" she pauses to shake her smooth and silky silver long locks majestically.

I wish I had her hair. My hair was always so troublesome.

"And I appear to my charges in their deepest hour of need."

While my loins had been burning, the sudden change in the mood seemed to quell the darkest of my carnal urges.

"I don't feel as "needy" as I did a few minutes ago." I say, employing finger quotes around the word needy. "This is all new to me and I don't remember you in the contract."

"You are handcuffed to a bed. Naked. There is a hoard of zombies downstairs and you think I am here to get you off?"

I nod. 

"JESUS!" The woman snaps. "You really are a special kind of stupid, aren't you?"

The woman's mouth purses dramatically and she snaps her bullwhip. I can almost taste the frustration coming off of her.

I bite my lip and mutter "I don't know what's happening."

"Well, Anastasia, let me spell it out for you." Her outer goddess looking more fierce than my inner goddes, she looks imperiously down on me.

This has all gotten so serious so quickly.

"After hanging on to your cherry through three years of university and all of the perfectly good university tail you could have romped your way through," she pauses ominously. "You know, boys who would have hugged you and kissed you and shown you true affection, you threw it away on this worthless damaged asshole.

"You signed a non-disclosure agreement!" She shouts, shaking her head. "You signed a contract that let him dictate what you could say! What you could eat!"

The outer goddess looked angry.

"You thought it was a fucking legitimate legal contract!"

I worry my lip between my teeth some more. When did this all get so dark?

The outer goddess crossed her arms and glared steely eyes at me.

"Stop calling me 'outer goddess'. I'm your fairy fucking godmother."

OMG! I had a fairy godmother! Did that make Christian my prince?

"Christian." I breathed.

My fairy godmother's head snapped around like it was on a swivel.

"Yes... Christian." She appeared fierce and wise.

"Did it ever occur to you to wonder how a neglected and violently abused, crack-addicted baby ended up being adopted by wealthy benefactors and become a billionaire?

"He sold his soul, honey. And I can tell you this, if it weren't for that zombie hoard waiting to crown you as their evil queen, I'd have let him smack you silly for as long as he wanted."

Ouch. That stings. I don't think my fairy godmother gets me... I don't think she gets Christian and me and the way has to be between us. I mean, he wrote it down.
 
"Aagghh!" My fairy godmother cries out, grasping her forehead. "It's like being trapped inside a locker full of stupid."

With a flourish, she snaps her fingers and the ties that have bound my naked body to the bed release as if by magic.

"It is magic, you dumbshit," spits my fairy godmother. "I can hear your thoughts."

My inner goddess reels under this new information. She can hear my innermost thoughts?

"YES!" My fairy godmother cries. "It's bordering on excruciating, but enough of this!

"Get dressed, go out the back, and never return."

"But what about me and Christian?" I mean, I think I might love him, despite how cold and unfeeling he is.

My fairy godmother steps close and cradles my face within her hands. I can smell the warm leather radiating from her body.

"My insipid child," she says, "while I felt you were a loss we could take, I was outvoted." She shook her head gracefully. "For some reason, they want you to live and so you shall.

"Get dressed and go from here. Keep the computer and sell the car. Use the money as a down payment on a condo. Get a fucking cat.

"Perhaps have sex with that cute boy who is the werewolf in the story upon which this one is based."

She closed her eyes and drew within herself. "Yes, they are eating Christian now. It is time to go."

As I left by the back door, I could hear the faint cries of Christian over the mindless chewing and deranged screams of the zombies.

Was it Anastasia on his lips or just the anguished cries that come with slow dismemberment?

I will never know, but in my heart, I feel it is Anastasia.