Insidious
Page 50
Though the contract had outlined specifics regarding consent for sexual activities, up until that moment, Stewart had never proposed anything that I deemed out of the ordinary. With everything he initiated, I’d willingly followed. There was no doubt that he’d taken me to places I’d never been. However, I innately knew that there was something vile about the scene before me.
Tugging my hand, he encouraged my steps. “Don’t stop now, Mrs. Harrington.”
“Stewart? What is this?”
“This is where my fantasies come true.”
My neck straightened as I tried to comprehend. “I-I don’t understand? We have sex. We have a lot of sex. Why do you need an apartment for it? What’s wrong with our home?”
Though my mind spun, my feet continued to move. Nearing the bed, he said, “I’m not complaining about our sex life, Victoria. I like what we do at home. This is different. This is why I married you. This is what our contract was about.”
The contract came back to me: clauses and addendums. One particular sentence came back: outside the experience. What the hell?
“Stewart, what happens here? What do you expect of me?”
“Nothing has happened here since our agreement. I’m not sleeping with other women, if that’s what you’re asking. I did before we met. I have needs.” He directed me to sit upon the bed and touched my cheek. With a difference in his tone, he continued, “As of late, Mrs. Harrington, most of those needs have been very well met.”
“Most?” My stomach continued to churn. “Just say it. What do you think I’ll do here?”
His grin twisted. “I know what you’ll do here. You’ll do as I say. We have a contract, a legally binding agreement.”
“I-I still don’t—”
He touched my lips. “I’ve maintained my side of our deal. You have my name, access to my money. Your sister has been accepted at Johns Hopkins.” He tilted his head. “Have I denied you anything?”
“N-No,” I answered with obvious trepidation.
“And you will not deny me. I told you before that if something made you uncomfortable, I would be there for you. You’ll never be here alone. I’ll always be here.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand! Why wouldn’t you be here? If I’m supposed to do something, something to do with sex…” my words trailed away as the upheaval in my stomach became impossible to ignore. A quick look to the side showed me a door. I prayed it contained what I needed as I bolted from the bed, flung the door wide, and vomited my dinner in the toilet.
With my head pounding and my body shaking, I moved to the sink and, cupping water, rinsed my mouth. With my head on the sink, I turned toward my husband and demanded, “Just say it!” My volume rose. “Don’t make my imagination take me places I don’t want to be.”
Reaching for my hand, he helped me stand upright. “Where exactly is that beautiful imagination going?”
I already knew that Stewart enjoyed watching me pleasure myself. Often, he’d encourage me to masturbate, even introducing me to use toys so that he could watch as I came apart. “It’s something about watching, isn’t it? That’s why there’s a chair. Please tell me that there’ll be no one else here besides us.”
“I can’t.”
My brows rose as I repeated, “You can’t?”
“You’re a beautiful woman. I’ve told you how many men want you. I wasn’t lying. They do. And I love watching those beautiful lips cry out. I want to be the one orchestrating; I want to watch as other men use you. I want to be the one to give you that pleasure.”
“No!”
“No?” he quirked. “Mrs. Harrington, that word was removed from your vocabulary the day you signed my contract.”
“I-I can’t. I don’t want to be with other men. I want to be with you.” At that moment, even that wasn’t true.
“And you will. You’ll be with me. I still want to be with you. The idea of watching is making me hard right now. I bet if I lifted the skirt of that pretty little dress, I’d find that you’re wet thinking about it.”
“I’m not!” I answered honestly. “Who? Who are you willing to share me with?”
“You see, that was the part that had me stumped. When it was prostitutes, it didn’t matter. But as my wife, you’re expected to be on my arm.” He placed my petite hand in the crook of his arm and led me back to the bed. “And I like having you there. I’ve decided it would be better for you not to know.”
What the hell?
“That doesn’t make any sense. How could I possibly be doing… whatever it is you want to orchestrate…” I emphasized his word, “…and not know who I’m with?”
Stewart stopped again at the bed. “I believe I’ve worked that out.” He reached under the bed and pulled out a box.
I stood speechless as he opened the lid.
Inside I saw an array of sex toys, but that wasn’t what he sought. Stewart removed headphones and a blindfold. “These headphones will cancel out the sound of the other person’s voice, and the blindfold will do what blindfolds do. You’ll neither be able to hear nor see the person with you.” He removed a Bluetooth and placed the headphones over my ears. His voice came through the headphones. “Speaking through the Bluetooth, you’ll only be able to hear me. When I’m not speaking, I’ll have music playing, all in an effort to conceal your partner’s identity.”
Tugging my hand, he encouraged my steps. “Don’t stop now, Mrs. Harrington.”
“Stewart? What is this?”
“This is where my fantasies come true.”
My neck straightened as I tried to comprehend. “I-I don’t understand? We have sex. We have a lot of sex. Why do you need an apartment for it? What’s wrong with our home?”
Though my mind spun, my feet continued to move. Nearing the bed, he said, “I’m not complaining about our sex life, Victoria. I like what we do at home. This is different. This is why I married you. This is what our contract was about.”
The contract came back to me: clauses and addendums. One particular sentence came back: outside the experience. What the hell?
“Stewart, what happens here? What do you expect of me?”
“Nothing has happened here since our agreement. I’m not sleeping with other women, if that’s what you’re asking. I did before we met. I have needs.” He directed me to sit upon the bed and touched my cheek. With a difference in his tone, he continued, “As of late, Mrs. Harrington, most of those needs have been very well met.”
“Most?” My stomach continued to churn. “Just say it. What do you think I’ll do here?”
His grin twisted. “I know what you’ll do here. You’ll do as I say. We have a contract, a legally binding agreement.”
“I-I still don’t—”
He touched my lips. “I’ve maintained my side of our deal. You have my name, access to my money. Your sister has been accepted at Johns Hopkins.” He tilted his head. “Have I denied you anything?”
“N-No,” I answered with obvious trepidation.
“And you will not deny me. I told you before that if something made you uncomfortable, I would be there for you. You’ll never be here alone. I’ll always be here.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand! Why wouldn’t you be here? If I’m supposed to do something, something to do with sex…” my words trailed away as the upheaval in my stomach became impossible to ignore. A quick look to the side showed me a door. I prayed it contained what I needed as I bolted from the bed, flung the door wide, and vomited my dinner in the toilet.
With my head pounding and my body shaking, I moved to the sink and, cupping water, rinsed my mouth. With my head on the sink, I turned toward my husband and demanded, “Just say it!” My volume rose. “Don’t make my imagination take me places I don’t want to be.”
Reaching for my hand, he helped me stand upright. “Where exactly is that beautiful imagination going?”
I already knew that Stewart enjoyed watching me pleasure myself. Often, he’d encourage me to masturbate, even introducing me to use toys so that he could watch as I came apart. “It’s something about watching, isn’t it? That’s why there’s a chair. Please tell me that there’ll be no one else here besides us.”
“I can’t.”
My brows rose as I repeated, “You can’t?”
“You’re a beautiful woman. I’ve told you how many men want you. I wasn’t lying. They do. And I love watching those beautiful lips cry out. I want to be the one orchestrating; I want to watch as other men use you. I want to be the one to give you that pleasure.”
“No!”
“No?” he quirked. “Mrs. Harrington, that word was removed from your vocabulary the day you signed my contract.”
“I-I can’t. I don’t want to be with other men. I want to be with you.” At that moment, even that wasn’t true.
“And you will. You’ll be with me. I still want to be with you. The idea of watching is making me hard right now. I bet if I lifted the skirt of that pretty little dress, I’d find that you’re wet thinking about it.”
“I’m not!” I answered honestly. “Who? Who are you willing to share me with?”
“You see, that was the part that had me stumped. When it was prostitutes, it didn’t matter. But as my wife, you’re expected to be on my arm.” He placed my petite hand in the crook of his arm and led me back to the bed. “And I like having you there. I’ve decided it would be better for you not to know.”
What the hell?
“That doesn’t make any sense. How could I possibly be doing… whatever it is you want to orchestrate…” I emphasized his word, “…and not know who I’m with?”
Stewart stopped again at the bed. “I believe I’ve worked that out.” He reached under the bed and pulled out a box.
I stood speechless as he opened the lid.
Inside I saw an array of sex toys, but that wasn’t what he sought. Stewart removed headphones and a blindfold. “These headphones will cancel out the sound of the other person’s voice, and the blindfold will do what blindfolds do. You’ll neither be able to hear nor see the person with you.” He removed a Bluetooth and placed the headphones over my ears. His voice came through the headphones. “Speaking through the Bluetooth, you’ll only be able to hear me. When I’m not speaking, I’ll have music playing, all in an effort to conceal your partner’s identity.”
