Fifty Shades of Grey Tentacles

By
Anita Dobs

Copyright Anita Dobs 2012

Published by Bloomingdale Books

Smashwords Edition

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. All characters in
this book are fictional, and any relation to anyone either living,
dead, or to be born at a later date, is entirely unintentional. Any
graphic sexual scenes are pure fantasy, and come with a 'Do not try
this at home' warning.

Being in the college
Erotic Writing
club
, I'd managed to write quite a few stories that had won
some acclaim. My first story, 'Teacher Dominates Student' had even
won a school prize, with the dean of my literature department
praising it for its hardcore action and realism, although I had
wondered how he knew it was realistic unless he'd had some personal
experience.

As a senior, I'd also
heard
about my
fair share of sexual experiences from others, although I myself was
still a pure virgin, as pure as the driven snow. It was no barrier
to me writing erotic fiction however, and I always made sure to
include the most detailed blow-by-blow scenes in my stories,
exactly as they were recounted to me. Sometimes I had to do further
research though, which often led to confusion. In particular there
was the time that Sybil, the well known and respected college slut,
had told me about one of her sexual experiences with Ross, the
college track star,

“It was so big he almost split me in half.”
She had said, as I was taking notes furiously,

“Did you have to go to hospital afterward?”
I'd asked, being genuinely concerned.

“Huh?” She'd replied, looking at me
perplexed.

I'd found this kind of thing was common; I'd
ask for further details from the people I was interviewing and
they'd look at me dumbfounded. At first I put it down to stupidity
on their part, but later I realized they couldn't understand the
inner workings of a writer's mind, or why we needed the most
intricate of details in order to add depth to our stories.

“Oh Elle, could you do me a big favor?” Asked
Sarah coming up to my desk as I was tapping away at my computer.
Sarah usually wrote under the pen name 'Rachael Rimjob' and was
looking flustered, she had several erotic stories on the go at one
time and was trying to finish them all off, but was finding it hard
going, what with her local church group meeting more often than
most, taking up much of her free time.

“I'm supposed to go and interview a well
known billionaire BDSM expert this afternoon, but I just can't fit
it in.” Sarah cooed.

“BDSM expert? Well, I suppose I could go for
you instead, I'm, working on a BDSM story myself, so it might help
my own research.” I told her, trying to be helpful, but wondering
if I'd ever now manage to get my erotic short 'Oh Doctor! Don't
Bone Me!' finished.

“It would really be a help.” Confessed Sarah,
“The book I'm working on now is just too big and hard.”

I knew how she felt, the big and hard ones
sometimes brought tears to my eyes, so I usually tried to cram them
in at night-time when I felt much more relaxed and able to work on
their full length.

“What time is the interview?” I asked Sarah,
while toying with a pen around my lips.

“Two pm.” She told me, as she walked out of
the door.

“Two pm! Holy fuck!” I exclaimed, “I'd better
get going then.”

I knew the BDSM expert Sarah had been talking
about, everyone in our city of Gothom knew him. He'd been on the
local and national news, talking about BDSM and how as a lifestyle
choice it was far healthier than taking drugs, physically and
psychologically. Oprah had even fast-tracked his book, 'The BDSM
Diaries', for her book club. And now I was actually going to meet
him.

Mr. Grey, of the hugely successful Grey Candy
Group, had made his fortune with his chain of candy stores across
the country, I'd often walked past them, and always noted the
catchy slogan underneath the main title: 'You Can't Keep Candy
Down'. There was always a sense of mystery to him, he was reclusive
yet socially erudite, cruel but kind, and well known as a faithful
playboy, only taking a new submissive on once a year, before
allowing them to pass his intensive course and then getting rid of
them. But I had no such plans to become one of his many submissive
women, I was far too independent and strong-willed for such things.
There's no way I'd stand for only a one year relationship with him,
I told myself, if I did have any kind of relationship with him -
which I wouldn't - I'd probably be the one female able to change
him, in fact. I had no interest in his billionaire lifestyle, or
his well-endowed manhood that was reported in the news on a daily
basis by his personal friend, commissioner Gordon Blimey.

Quickly picking my papers up, I rushed to the
bus station to catch the number 666 bus up to the Grey
Confectionery Group office headquarters; the number of the bus was
ominous in and of itself, as six was my unlucky number, and three
of them together must be even worse. Walking through the large
doors of the company, I was struck at the size and grandeur of the
place. In the foyer was a huge phallic candy cane - without the
hook part - and a fountain spurting water out the top of it. I'd
never imagined candy was so popular as to warrant all the trappings
of success that surrounded me, and felt some trepidation as I took
the elevator to the sixteenth floor that the guard told me was
where I could meet Grey.

Winding my way through office cubicles with
Grey office workers up to their daily routine, I tried to locate
his office. I was already late and a little flustered and sweaty; I
was glad I'd worn my low cut top that day, as it was like a natural
air-conditioning system, all be it one that was more attractive to
men. I hoped Grey wouldn't stare at my tits throughout our meeting,
as that definitely wasn't what I wanted. I was a serious writer,
and to have a man I'd not already decided I was attracted to admire
my cleavage, really disgusted me. I often wondered when someone
would get round to inventing high-tech 'only see-through when the
man you're wearing your low cut top for is around' clothing. It
would really save a lot of trouble. Perhaps it could also have a
'not attracted to, but need to influence' sub-setting. I was always
coming up with world changing technological innovations like that,
and sometimes wondered if I should have gone to M.I.T instead of
New York community college. I'd decided against it when reading
once that Will Smith had given up the chance to go to M.I.T to
instead 'get jiggy with it' and become a famous rap star, and then
T.V celebrity on the hit show 'The Fresh Prince of Bell-End'.

I finally found Grey's office when rounding a
corner and saw his stern looking secretary sitting at the reception
desk, looking at me over her glasses, quite obviously jealous at
the sight of the impressive breasts I was unconsciously displaying
by arching my back, as the male office workers walked by.

“Can I help you miss?” She said, trying to
act officious but quite obviously being a total bitch.

“I'm here to see Mr. Grey.” I told her in
such a way that she'd know she didn't phase me, “My name's Elle
James, and I'm an erotica author.”

“Oh... another.” She sighed, and then looked
through her diary,” You must be the replacement I guess.”

“I'm only here as a favor to a friend.” I
told her honestly, “I have no romantic interest whatsoever in
handsome billionaire BDSM experts, this is all purely research for
me.”

“Yes, it always is my dear.” She replied,
somewhat cryptically I thought. “I'll tell him you're here.”

The secretary went off into Grey's office and
I heard a few murmurs through the closed door. I looked down to
make sure my breasts were even, there was nothing worse when you
met a man for the first time and then realized afterward that your
cleavage line was lop-sided. 'Mortal-Mammary-Mortification' I
called it; and regardless of what position a man held in society, I
always made sure they were presentable, although if he had been a
urinal janitor I might not have bothered.

The secretary came out again,

“He'll see you now.”

Mr Grey had quite obviously given her a stern
talking to for being so rude to me, and I held my nose up high when
I walked past her. In the office, I saw Grey contemplating the
skyline out of the large windows. He was obviously a deep thinker.
I took a seat as he turned around,

“Please take a sea....” He began to say,
before seeing me already sat, “Oh, you already have, fine. No
problem.”

“Mr Grey, I think I should warn you, I'm an
independent strong willed woman, no man tells me when to sit.”

“Fair enough.”

“Further more, although I am hot, it doesn't
mean I'm not exceptionally intelligent also.”

Grey was taken aback by my boldness, but I
could see he was impressed.

“Erm, OK, so shall we get this interview
started?”

“Mr Grey, do not attempt any sexual innuendo
with me!” I warned him.

Grey raised his eyebrows, those attractive
eyebrows covering those predatory eyes of his. He'd deliberately
not looked at my tits even once in the twenty seconds I'd been in
the room, and was now toying with me, trying to break down my will.
I was fighting it tooth and nail, but I could feel myself squirming
in the chair in front of him, as he walked across the room with his
truly fine muscular billionaire buttocks protruding from his
pants.

“Look, Miss James, I'm not making any sexual
innuendo's and feel it would be highly inappropriate anyway.” He
said, obviously trying to cover-up his gross error of judgment,
“Why don't you just ask me the questions you have prepared.”

The truth was, I didn't have any questions
prepared. I'd not had time, so I asked him the first thing that
came to mind as I got my notepad and pencil out of my bag, while
crossing my legs seductively.

“Mr Grey, how would you initially go about
seducing me... I mean seducing
any
attractive woman?”

Grey paced up and down the room,
contemplating the 'award-winning' question I'd posed. His broad
shoulders seemed to take up the entire width of the room, and I
started to imagine him throwing me onto his table and ravishing me
by ripping my top off, with my ample breasts bursting forth into
his mouth.

“Well.” He finally began after a long pause,
“I suppose I'd invite them out to dinner and get to know them
first, to find out if we were a suitable match.”

“Oh Mr. Grey! I may be a naive and virginal
young girl, but even I know that's not the modus-operandi of a
world class BDSM expert!” He was taking me for a fool, but I wasn't
buying it, I'd been writing erotic stories for way too long to fall
for that one. Grey looked shocked and asked me,

“Well, what would you suggest Miss
James?”

“Hypothetically speaking, and only
hypothetically speaking you understand, I'd insinuate some sexual
activity to me by playing with something shaped like a penis, in
those strong hands of yours.”

Grey looked on his desk and picked out an
item,

“You mean like this staple gun?” He asked,
holding it up.

“No Mr. Grey! That does not look like a penis
at all!”

“So, as a young virgin, exactly how many
penises have you actually seen?”

He was toying with me again. The truth was,
I'd never seen a real live anaconda-like cock in front of me, much
less sucked on one.

“I know what they look like Mr. Grey, I did
take Biology.”

“Ah, you took Biology, so you're a real
expert then.”

I didn't like the tone of his voice, I knew
he was challenging me and I only had two options, to fold, or to
play my hand. I'd come too far to fold - about three miles in fact
- and so I upped the anti, and challenged him,

“OK Mr. Grey, why don't you show me your
billionaire penis that is talked about every night on the news that
I pay little attention to.”

Grey was flustered, I could tell he was, as
he started quickly undoing his belt as fast as he possibly could. I
had him right where I wanted him. Moving over toward me, he stood
beside me and let his pants and boxer shorts fall, revealing the
most beautiful hard and rigid cock I'd ever seen; although of
course, I'd not actually seen any, but I imagined this one topped
the lot of them. Grey held it erect and proud in his hand, sliding
it up and down and teasing his fingers over the tip. I felt my
pussy tighten.

“So Miss James, would this be the kind of
physical insinuation you mean?”

“Oh yes Mr. Grey, yes indeed, you're really
getting the idea now.” I said, not being able to take my eyes off
it.

“I apologize Miss. James, this is all new to
me, what should I do next with my billionaire cock?”