- 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.”

“Or you'll punish me?”

There—I caught a flash of desperation in his face. Then it was gone. “I'll have to.”

He really doesn't want to hurt me. Uncertain what else I could do, I looked at the tablet. Conway pulled my headset fully into place. He tapped the screen, turning it on, and then he moved out of view. Was he sitting on the bed or staring over my shoulder? I swallowed as I wondered what he was feeling.

The video's audio boomed in my ears.

“Uh, ah, mmmnnn. Please. God, please, give it to me!”

A ripple of embarrassment hit me hard. I'd watched porn before, but it had been in the privacy of my own home. I surged with discomfort—for the woman I didn't know, and for myself being forced to watch her. Both of us had an audience.

“You want this?” A man's voice. He was behind the camera so I couldn't see him. He held out something fat and purple—a huge vibrator. When he slapped her on the ass with it, she moaned.

It came to life in his grip, buzzing furiously through my headphones. She whimpered, panting as she wagged her hips side to side. I could see her shining pussy lips, her engorged clit. Blushing, I shifted on the floor.

“Fuck me,” she begged.

“You'd like that.”

“Yes! God, fuck, yes, just touch me.”

“Are you a slut? My good little slut?”

“Your little slut, Sir. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

I could see her face in profile whenever she looked back at the camera. Her blue eye was hazy, lips hanging open in desperation. Maybe she was acting but to me, she was a woman who truly wanted to be fucked.

He touched the vibrator to the inside of her thigh—she squealed, and I couldn't take it, I bent my head and shut my eyes, shaking the headphones free.

“Watch the screen,” he said.

“No! This is insane!”

“Last chance. Watch the screen.” In defiance, I kept my chin tucked to my chest. I heard him rustling inside the bag on the bed. “I thought I could wait before I had to do this.”

Conway came back, settling on his knees beside me. Deftly, he attached a small, circular metallic object over my thigh. I didn't know what it was, but I recognized the other item—a bullet-style vibrator. “Conway, no.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, he can't really do this! Watching the porn was one thing, but this took it to a new level.

He met my nervous stare. There's a moment where we both seemed to realize how insane this is. Then it was gone, and he'd replaced the headphones over my ears, locking them in place. The girl was moaning in my head again; the man rubbing the vibrator up and down her labia, spreading them, showing off how wet and pink she was.

I shut my eyes, daring him to act on his threat. “Ah!” I squealed, electric pain shooting up my mid-thigh. My eyes slammed open. “Fuck you! Ah, fuck, ah! Turn it off! Why won't you turn it off?” I couldn't hear him through my headset, but I doubted he had any answers for me.

The pain was so great it made my eyes water. Knowing what would stop it, I frantically stared at the tablet again. The hot burst of electricity over my sensitive skin ended. In the video, the vibrator was being pushed deep inside of the woman.

Her ass jiggled; she rocked her hips, mewling in my ears. “Please, harder, give it to me harder,” she begged.

My heart started to calm down, relieved from the pain vanishing. It was still in hyper drive, though, mixed up with adrenaline... fear... and a shade of arousal I didn't want to admit to feeling.

“Are you a dirty slut?”

“I am, I'm so dirty—ah! Yes, fill me up, fuck me deeper, I need it!”

The vibrator on my clit came to life. I jumped as much as I could, yanking at my bonds. I was worried he'd do it, and he had. “Holy fuck,” I groaned. It was a delicious flutter that increased exponentially.

The porn star licked her lips. The purple toy popped out, the tip rubbing over her asshole. Cringing, I shut my eyes—bright pain forced them open again. Every time I looked away, the electrode shocked me. Every time I watched, the vibrator pulsed on my clit.

He was working me up intentionally. No matter what I did, as long as he kept the vibrator buzzing on my pussy, I was going to come.

And he was going to see it.

“Please,” I begged. “Please, Conway—oh!” I shivered in pleasure. “Don't make me... I can't...”

In response, the vibrations came faster, harder, driving me to the peak. I moaned, matching the same tone, same obscene style as the woman in the porno. Hot tension coiled between my thighs. It worked through my belly until I was an elastic that snapped.

How closely was he watching me as I came?

“Fuck!” I squealed.

“Fuck, yes, oh! I'm your dirty slut, all yours, fuck me more!” the woman went on, but it was all mushy noise to me.

Dizzy, I hung my head. Fierce pain stung the inside of my leg. Crying out, I leaned away as Conway fisted my hair, moving the headset so I could hear him. “It's not over, Georgia. Don't stop watching.”

I spotted the obvious bulge in his pants. He's turned on from this. His black eyes narrowed on me from above, like he was daring me to say something. Without looking away, he turned the vibrator back on.

I was still shaking from the first orgasm. I relented, watching the screen again. The woman was impaled on the stranger's cock. Her whole body shook as he slammed inside of her. The vibrator was in his hand, pushing into her asshole, making her scream even harder. I didn't know if she was coming for real, or if it was all fake, but I knew what I was experiencing was no show.

I came while he fucked her on her stomach.

I came again when he moved her onto her side.

The video was over two hours long and during the whole thing, Conway continued to drive me to high levels of Nirvana. I was a slippery mess; my clothes had been wet before from the ocean, now they were soaked from my own juices

My experience and the woman's blurred.

“I'm a slut.”

“I'm so dirty. I'm your dirty whore.”

Was I a slut? Conway's whore? I didn't know what was real.

Drool coated my lips. Each time I looked away, either from exhaustion, or because I couldn't handle witnessing the woman getting railed, Conway was there to curb my resistance.

He acted with complete confidence; there was no uncertainty creating chinks in his armor. I'd been a fool to think I could understand him. He'd saved me from the ocean, he'd kissed me on our little beach, and like he'd warned me, none of it mattered.

He wasn't human.

He was a mountain I could attempt to climb, but one I'd ultimately die on.