by Nora Flite
Georgia Mary King
Paralyzing cold swept over my body.
Bubbles flirted with my cheeks and hair, rushing over my eyelids. I'd scrunched them shut to brace for the impact, but the chilly ocean made them impossible to open now. I couldn't see to navigate. The single breath I'd taken into my lungs burst out of me—I had no control.
What the hell had I been thinking?
I'm going to drown.
Something grabbed my arm. It dug in, locking into place, challenging Poseidon himself to try and rip me away. My face broke the surface of the waves; I swallowed more water, choking as I was thrown limply over Conway's shoulder.
He swam hard, avoiding every obstacle that tried to smash us into pieces. We made it to a stretch of rocky beach. Twisting, he curled me in his arms, lowering me to the sand. Large hands cradled my face, turning me sideways so I could spit out a mouthful of briny water.
“Are you crazy?” he snarled, giving me no space. “Did you hope you could kill yourself right in fucking front of me?”
I couldn't talk. I just hacked wetly. Water had soaked into my sweater, my flesh, my hair. I weighed so much I couldn't even crawl. Then I looked up at Conway, and I became light as a dandelion seed.
His features were knotted into a wretched mess. His hair streamed water constantly into his eyes, yet he didn't blink. He'd warned me that the rocks would slice me to the bone... but it was him who'd been flayed. Each level ripped clean away, one above the other.
Anger.
Hatred.
Disgust.
Beneath it all I saw what he really was.
Afraid for me.
Too late, he understood his mask had slipped. Shaking from the cold—from painful hope—I lifted my hand to his cheek. “I knew you cared.”
Snatching my wrist, he didn't force me away. Conway held me there, the two of us facing each other on our knees. “How could you have been sure?”
“Because you can't trick me. I know who you are, Conway.” Inch by inch, I drew closer to him. As cold as I was, being near him burned. “You'll always be the boy who saved me. Time can't change that.”
He focused on my eyes, his gaze drifting down to my mouth. “Not time. Actions. Georgia, the things I've done—the things I will do...”
“Forget about them. Stop thinking in regrets.”
His lips curved into a hollow smile. “You think we can hide from the world on this beach?”
“We can try.”
His forehead furrowed. “The world won't stop moving just because we don't. You know that.”
The moment was fading, but I wouldn't let it go. There'd never be another chance like this. “Do you remember how you used to help me pretend I wasn't trapped in a basement?”
The rush of pain in his eyes stopped me in my tracks. He shuddered, pulling me even closer. Nothing bigger than a quarter could have passed between us. “Georgia, there's been so many nights where all I thought about was your hand on top of mine in the dark. Your scent, your heartbeat, how smooth your virgin lips were when they touched mine.” Rapid, hot air pushed in and out of my chest as I listened. “It's terribly greedy, but if I could pick then over now... I'd do it.”
His lashes were thick, hiding some of the lust in his stare-but only some. I drew in a sharp breath. His proximity was making me lose control. My upper hand at proving he cared about me was transforming into something sinful.
Reaching out, he slid his fingertips through my soaked hair. He came around to rub the back of my ear, a touch so intimate I whimpered. That sound was the last straw for him.
Gripping the nape of my neck, Conway kissed me the way dying men kiss their wives... or the way long lost lovers reunite. This was how I'd imagined our destined meeting. In my head, it always began with a kiss.
I folded into him eagerly. He was all hands, all teeth; this wasn't a hesitant boy's kiss. His masculine nose ground along mine, the way wolves greeted each other in the wild. Biting my bottom lip he tugged. “Oh,” I sighed, closing my eyes.
Exploring his neck, then his wide shoulders, I dragged my nails down his soaked shirt. His muscles flexed through the material; I could see every perfect line. Nothing was more tempting than getting lost in this moment.
Conway fisted my wrists, holding me steady. I stared at him with my mouth half-open. “What's wrong?” I asked.
I spotted the last flicker of his passion as it died. “We have to go back inside,” he said. The steel was back, masking his emotions away, hiding the soft part of him that wanted me so badly.
My fingers fell, drifting through the muddy sand by my knees. Gentle waves erased all the proof that he'd dragged me here and rescued me. “How can you go back to being so cruel?”
“Nothing changes just because we kissed, Georgia.”
I didn't respond.
Clasping my face tightly, he bared his teeth like he wanted to terrify me into compliance. “Nothing changes! Nothing can change. Do you get that?”
Looking him in the eye, I smiled sympathetically. “It's too late.”
Because it didn't matter what he wanted.
After our kiss, everything had changed.
****
“What happened to you two?” Lonnie asked.
Conway ignored him, pushing me through the backdoor. We were both dripping water all over the floor. He opened a cupboard, passing me a towel. I clutched it while eyeing Lonnie—had he been watching us from a window, waiting in the house for us to return?
Had he seen us kiss?
No. He couldn't have, the beach was below the cliff. The same rocks meant to break me in two had sheltered me from Lonnie's prying gaze. But here, the closest thing I had to keep him at a distance was Conway.
He'll protect me. He has to. The man had dove into the raging ocean to rescue me. He cared too much to let his awful brother harm me.
I had to believe that.
Crossing his arms, Lonnie wandered closer. “I guess it was a passing storm cloud that drenched you.” His shadow filled the tight hallway; I coiled myself in the towel. “Or did you two take a dip in the ocean for fun?”
Conway put another towel around me, then he dried himself off. “I was showing her that she can't escape.”
Lonnie nodded appreciatively. “Alright, that's a good call. Dad would approve.”
I swallowed down a wave of nausea. I hated hearing that Facile would be happy about anything Conway did.
Lonnie said, “He's expecting you to begin day one of surrogacy.”
I tuned in; this was new information. “I know,” Conway said, his hands digging into my shoulders.
“I'm still wondering if you'll be able to do this.” The younger brother didn't come closer, but his next words punched me in the gut. “If you don't, the job of breaking her becomes mine.”
Imagining Lonnie touching me... doing whatever the fuck breaking me meant... had me swaying in place. Conway steadied me; I leaned into his touch eagerly. “I know what I need to do, Lonnie.”
“You know, sure, but will you actually go through with it?”
Conway's tone dropped to a rasp. “If you doubt me one more time, I'm going to smash all the fingers on your right hand.”
Lonnie's eyebrows went up. “Why that hand?”
“It's the one you jerk off with. And if you can't do that, you'll be so miserable you'll kill yourself, saving me the trouble.”
Listening to Conway threaten his brother brought me back to an old memory of them facing off. Conway had defended me then, like he was now—and that was comforting.
Lonnie was glaring at me. I erased my smile, but it was too late. He'd seen.
With a hand on the small of my back, Conway guided me towards my room. I didn't fight him; I was happy to get away from his brother. He let me inside, backing out quickly. “Stay, I need to get some things.”
Blinking, I nodded. Alone with my thoughts, I ruffled my hair and body with the towels, still shivering. I hoped what he'd gone to get was dry clothes.
These were too wet to be cured by a towel.
When he returned, he didn't bring me a new outfit. Conway stepped inside, and right away, his energy was different. Colder... sadder. Regret was written all over his face. He was holding a canvas bag—I snapped my attention to it, then back to his tight frown. “You're going to do something horrible now.”
His eyebrows knotted further. “Yes.”
My feet were stuck to the floor. I let the towels fall, knowing they weren't armor. Nothing could protect me from whatever was motivating Conway to act in his father's stead. His surrogate, Lonnie called him. “I want you to know that I'm sure you have a reason for doing this. Even if you keep trying to convince me otherwise, I know someone is forcing your hand. Your dad... your brother... you don't need to confirm anything. I just know.”
He looked at me with an awful expression; some mixed up combination of being thankful, while also hating himself. He dropped the bag. It landed with a heavy thud.
“It's time to begin.”
- Chapter Eleven -
Georgia Mary King
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 vibr
ator 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.