50 Shades Of Grey: BDSM Book Prompts Record Sales Of Nipple Clamps

I thought 50 Shades of Grey would stop causing me to erupt into raucous laughter when I quit reading the book. But, like most absurd fads, this one found a way to keep creeping back. Because it turns out — and this really did make the news — that since the overwhelmingly popular pseudo-porn hit stores, nipple clamps have been flying off the shelves just like the book that inspired their use.

On Thursday, the Guardian released the juicy scoop that the sale of nipple clamps have increased 15 fold in the past year at Ann Summers, a sex store chain in the U.K., because shoppers want to “buy into the lifestyle described in EL James’s erotic novel.”

Yes. Shoppers want to buy into the “kinky f*ckery” of the novel that inspired such heartwarming quotes as:

-"Christian, you are the state lottery, the cure for cancer, and the three wishes from Aladdin's lamp all rolled into one." 

-“I had no idea giving pleasure could be such a turn on, watching him writhe subtly with carnal longing. My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.”

-"’INSIDE ME’ I gasp, and all the muscles in my belly clench. My inner goddess is doing the dance of seven veils."

-“Laters, baby.” 

Yes. Give me that life. Give it to me now.

All I want, really, is for a man who reminds me of all of the wonderful (and awkwardly paired) things in this world to make my “inner goddess” happy enough to do a disjointed Latin-inspired dance before moving into the celebratory dance of the Pagan fertility god before he walks out the door and says “laters, baby.”

I mean, what can you expect from a novel whose paperbacks flew off the shelves faster than Harry Potter? Kids want wands, adults want nipple clamps. I mean, I still just want a wand. Can I trade in the nipple clamps for one? Or is that not allowed?

What does it say about our society that we are so wrapped up in a book that has absolutely no literary value that we must immediately rush out and recreate that life ourselves — even at the cost of clamping our own nipples? 

This might seem like people exploring their sexuality and unleashing the part of their inner self that’s really always wanted to try out their kinky sex side, but in reality this is a bunch of sheep that have dedicated themselves to a book where the ubiquitous plain Jane meets the ubiquitous Prince charming and they fall madly in love — it’s just that, in this case, the kinky sex masks the terrible prose.