"I've got a cold and I can't interview Christian Grey, the enigmatic multimillionaire tycoon, for the student newspaper today," says Kate, my roommate. "Please take my place, Ana."

Wow! I take one look at Mr Grey and can barely speak. With his tousled hair, he is so mouthwateringly gorgeous. The epitome of male beauty. "G-gosh," I say.

"You seem to be struck dumb, Miss Steele," he wryly observes. "I like that in a woman."

On the way home, my cell phone rings.

"Come to dinner," says Christian.

"How did you know my number?"

"It's my business to know everything. I like to exercise control. My helicopter will pick you up at seven."

I am unable to resist. No man has ever affected me in this way before.

"Here's the contract for our relationship," he says, slipping an oyster down my throat. "I will be the Dominant and you will be the Submissive. You will do everything I say and allow me to cane you, tie you up, sodomise you, clamp your genitals and fist you. In return I will buy you a car and a laptop."

"But Sir," I exclaim. "I'm still a virgin, so I will have to draw the line at fisting."

"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Steele."

My inner goddess melts as he forces his tongue inside me. I have never been this wet before, etc. He bends me over his knee and slaps me hard. It feels wrong, but somehow very right. His enormous penis, etc. Juddering orgasms, etc.

"Sleep with me, Sir," I beg, as I try to draw his handsome body closer to mine.

"I can't. I had a deeply disturbed childhood and S&M relationships are the only ones I can sustain."

"Tell me about your commitment problems."

"They are too disturbing. You will find I am 50 Shades of Grey. Yet I find myself strangely drawn to your virginal, 20-year-old body in a way that I have never previously experienced."

My subconscious tells me I should run away from this control freak right now, but my inner goddess is telling me to stay. That I can help this poor troubled man. Christian changes into a sexy pair of faded denim jeans and leads me to his Red Room of Pain. I willingly allow myself to be chained to a crucifix while he thrashes my clitoris with a leather hunting crop. The pain is intense, but the pleasure more so. My inner goddess is panting for him not to stop until ... juddering climaxes, etc.

"I wouldn't normally allow myself to be treated like this," I say. "But somehow, Christian, it is OK with you as I can sense that one day we may have a loving relationship."

"It is the Submissive who has all the power," he witters, "and I can feel myself slowly yielding to you."

Oh yes please, my inner goddess yells. Does he really love me as much as Kate keeps telling me he does? And why am I so jealous of his previous Subs, and why don't I ask him a single question about his job or his life even though we have met one another's parents in circumstances bordering on the unbelievable?

Submit yourself to the greatest thrashing of your life, my inner goddess says, to prove how much you love him and to let him show how much he loves you. Torn ass cheeks/moist vagina/pain/yet more juddering climaxes, etc.

"I love you, yet I have to go," I sob.

"Why?"

"Because we're only going to get to the bottom of your commitment issues after you've spanked your way through the next two books."

Digested read, digested: What every woman wants. Obviously.