Page 31 of After Our Kiss

- Chapter Eleven -

Georgia Mary King

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I'd spent years trying to reconnect with my body—with this thing known as reality. I'd listened to therapist after therapist as they helped me learn the best techniques to stop hiding my emotions-a defensive act that kept me, as they put it, from “being truly happy”.

I'd paid a lot of money for their advice.

All of that work was about to be used against me.

Conway was going to torture me and I was going to experience every vibrant second of it. In retraining myself to accept joy, I'd guaranteed my own suffering.

He started by setting up a camera in a corner of the room. It perched on a tripod, blinking a single red light to notify me it was on. Without looking my way, Conway said, “I want to do everything I can to avoid actually hurting you. But if you don't do as I say, I will. Don't test me.”

I couldn't look away from the glossy lens. “Who's going to watch this?”

He crouched, checking that everything was stable. “My father. Maybe my brother.”

I'd already figured as much, but it still made me ill. “Is it live? Can he see me right now?”

“No. It's only a tape for later.”

Picturing Facile sitting down to watch a video of me in private wasn't easier to handle than him seeing it as it happened. “Why isn't he here? Why are you doing this... what did Lonnie call it, surrogacy, for him?”

Conway walked towards me. I fought the urge to back up, was proud of myself for remaining steady. He loomed over me, as inanimate as the cliffs around the island. “Sit on the floor at the base of the bed.”

He didn't answer my questions.I eyeballed the camera.Because he's being recorded too, not just me.Was Conway afraid of being caught saying something he shouldn't?

“I told you to do something, Georgia.”

Facing the door, I dropped to the hard floor with the bed at my back. I was still in my wet sweater and yoga pants. He placed the bag on the bed; I couldn't see what was inside of it. When he knelt, he grabbed my left wrist. His face was near mine—his breath blew over my temple and I trembled.

Hard plastic wrapped around, fixing my wrist to the bed frame. Another tie followed, leaving my hands dangling by my ears on either side. I tugged experimentally.

“Spread your knees for me,” he whispered.

It was a filthy sentence, edges of it tickling a perverse fantasy of mine. Looking up at him, my cheeks burning, I shifted until my bent legs opened. Easily, he attached my ankles in the same way he'd done my wrists, binding them to the base of the frame.

When I tried to push my knees together, I couldn't. Even though I was fully dressed, I'd never felt so vulnerable. He backed up, studying his work like I was an art fixture and not a person.

The man who'd kissed me on the beach had vanished.

Conway grabbed multiple things from the bag—the first was a small tablet that he placed standing up in front of me, out of reach. Next was a set of headphones. They were huge, noise canceling things, and wireless.

Carefully he set them on my head, leaving my ears free. He had more to say. “You're going to watch something.” He waved at the tablet. “If you shut your eyes or look away, I'll have to punish you. If you watch, and you're good, you'll be rewarded.”

“You make it sound so simple,” I said, laughing nervously.

“It's as simple as you make it.”

“What am I going to watch?”

Turning, he pressed the unlock button on the touch screen. It lit up, revealing a paused image of a naked woman from behind. I breathed in, flushing wildly as I realized she was spread eagle on her belly, entirely naked. On impulse I stared down at the floor. “Already disobeying,” he whispered.

Glaring up at him, I shook my head. “Really? Porn?”

“Look at the screen,” he demanded. “Now.”

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