A/N: I was asked to do this as a request from a handsome gentleman. I'm not sure if he wants me to shout him out but he knows who he is and I am so honored you trust me enough with your fantasies to allow me to bring them to life. *tear* This is just a teaser of what I plan to make 'M' so expect the continued 'M' version tonight or tomorrow kittens! I just wanted to put this as a little something for you lovely people in cyberspace. Hope it brings you as much joy as I creepily received from writing it! Until next time kittens! Thanks for enjoying my dark, twisted fantasies. –SP

Chapter theme song: 'S&M' by: Rihanna

Rhonda

Gnawing on my peppermint stick I anxiously awaited the climax- pun very much intended. Christian Grey was now finally about to deflower this tortured virgin in this sadistic game of masochism; the worst part, it excited the hell out of me. I heard of this recent sex novel after a few of my classmates have raved about it for weeks and finally decided to take a peek at it when my mother's book club decided to read it for their next get together. If this mundane source of entertainment can make even the most picturesque, poised, and graceful woman I know blush, then it was bound to be something worth my leisure on a Saturday afternoon. My mother was still giggling like a school girl downstairs as she revamped our living parlor into a pale shade of grey. How quaint.

I felt a familiar desire, an unattended flame spark against my heated core in excitement as I read throughout the chapter; sweating profusely until I had to close the simple pages of the book every other paragraph to catch my breath. Now, do not be confused; this book has its flaws, grammatical and structural errors, and- dare I even say- I have read much better sex scenes that were a tad more…tasteful and erotic than what was proposed by my new good friend Grey. But, despite all that, I have never encountered a piece of work that dealt with the dark, twisted fantasies of one person wanting to physically and mentally break another person for the sake of sexual pleasure. It was baffling to me, yet intriguing since it was so new to me.

How can someone find pleasure from pain?!

"Your hot tea awaits my queen!" Curly dripped sensually as he entered my bedroom. I quickly motioned him to close the door before my mother saw him.

"What took you so long?" my voice was laced with clear annoyance but he seemed to not mind; that playful smirk plastered across his face as his lips puckered ever so ugly for a sloppy, wet kiss. "Please, as if I will kiss you after you just ate bacon doughnuts."

"MAPLE bacon doughnuts my queen, and I had to go to the basement kitchen since your mother decided she wanted a new paint job for the living room." He paused from pouring the honey into my lemon tea. "Why is she painting the living room grey?"

I shrugged, not feeling like getting into the back-story; quickly moving my philosophy book in front of my novel to hide the front cover. "She's been acting weird lately."

"You think she finally found out about your father's affair with the Wednesday morning cleaning lady?"

I scoffed, letting out a hearty chuckle in amusement. "Curly, my mother has BEEN known about my father's affair; but what is she going to do? Divorce him and be left without a cent because she signed a prenup? Do you know anything?"

Curly didn't say anything after that, only continued to make my tea in silence but, as usual, never failing to occasionally gross me out with his air kisses and cackling laughter. At one point he had used the steak knife to slice a dollop of butter on my plate of toast and had cut himself by mistake. Why he did not use a butter knife is beyond me, but watching Curly gaze at the gash in his finger and relish in its…pain, piqued my curiosity.

I closed my book. "You alright?"

"Just a small cut." He dismissed, sucking in the coppery taste of blood. He let out a weak smile. "I shall get you fresh toast and a clean knife my queen!"

"Wait!" I yelled, startling myself. I found that I had clung into the yellow cotton of his t-shirt for dear life. I quickly apologized and released him. "Sorry, about grabbing you like that." I mumbled.

Curly observed me for a moment before taking a seat next to me on my bed. "You alright, Rhonda?"

I looked up from chipping the red paint off my fingertips to the concerned, cautious eyes of Curly. His warm hands entrapped mine with a small kiss against my smooth flesh. I gritted my teeth to hide my happiness. "Of course I'm alright!" I dismissed with a twirl of my wrist. "I just didn't want you to think I didn't want you to leave me or something; go get my damn toast and knife you mongrel."

Thaddeus let out a small chuckle in amusement. "Then why did you grab me like that, my sweets?"

"Maybe because I found it odd that you seemed to…enjoy the fact that you cut your finger." I trailed off towards the end. I expected him to deny my allegations and tell me how plum foolish I was for thinking such craziness but to my surprise, his expression hadn't faltered. It was like he was waiting for the punch line to an overused joke. "Did you not hear me?!"

"Yes, I heard you, my sweets, but why do you find it odd?"

My eyes widened. "So…you don't deny that you enjoyed the pain?" he shook his head. "So…have you cut yourself before…on pur- "

"Nothing like that, my queen." He interjected with a wailing of his hands. "I never was the least bit suicidal or thought about inflicting pain on myself for pleasure; but I have noticed that pain doesn't hurt to me like it may for you."

"What do you mean? Do you enjoy being in pain?"

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that, but I do enjoy some amounts of pain; in duration of course my dear Rhonda."

My curiosity was piqued but now he had my undivided attention. I shuffled to my knees with the tenacity of a domestic housecat before my eyes sparkled in delight. Was I "dating" my very own Grey? Curly remained confused, almost flustered as he continued to suck the oozing blood from his injured finger. He had tried to get up and go to my private bath for a band aid tucked in my medicine cabinet, but I pinched him in the curve of his spine.

"What the hell, Rhonda!?" he shouted, "that hurt!"

"You just said you enjoyed pain."

"Not when you strangle my spine!"

"Overdramatic much are we?" he gave me a stale face before letting out a heavy sigh, burying his face in his hands. "So…it did hurt?"

"Yes, Rhonda, that shit hurt." His voice was a little higher, much more aggressive. "Why are you acting so weird?"

"You just told me you liked pain!"

"Not ALL pain, Rhonda!"

"Then what pain!?"

"Almost all of it, but nothing like that!" he roared, clearly frustrated; but I had gotten my answer. We simply stared at each other for a bit before either one of us spoke; his breathing ragged as I was trying to force myself to breathe again. "…Does that make me even more of a creep to you, Rhonda?"

"On the contrary." I whispered, kneeling before him on the softness of my comforter. I began to fiddle with the collar of his yellow t-shirt I had grabbed before, flicking with his pierced lobe as I outlined his lips with the tip of my tongue. He leaned in for a kiss but I pulled away in enough time to keep control of my little game. "It excites me."

A single brow raised. "It does?" I nodded. "How?"

"Give me ten minutes to prepare and I'll show you."