"Control"
By H. Jekyll

Part Five: "Aftermath"

* * * * *

I do not use story codes anymore. This story contains 
explicit sex and great sexual cruelty. It is the tale of a 
woman who left her lover for a sexually dominant man, and 
who has descended into a world of sadism-for-profit on the 
internet. It is also a story of love and commitment.

I appreciate comments and inquiries, even criticisms, and I 
absolutely promise to respond to them. Please send them to: 
h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com

Copyright 2002 by H. Jekyll. Permission is freely granted 
to post on any site that does not charge for entrance, as 
long as full attribution is given to the author. The story 
should not be read by anyone under the legal age to read 
sexually explicit stories, or by anyone in a location where 
it is illegal to read such stories. 

"Control" previously appeared at "Ruthie's Club," which I 
recommend to readers, where it was edited by Ruthie. An 
illustrated and formatted earlier version can be found 
there. See: http://www.ruthiesclub.com/.

* * * * *

"Aftermath"


The doctor wants to talk to Geoffrey, but Geoffrey is flickering 
in and out. He can't follow the conversation. The doc is looking 
down at him. Geoff looks around and finds he is in bed with Anne, 
and then he remembers. The doctor talks. Geoff is answering. 
They've been conversing, haven't they? He tries to follow it, to 
reconstruct it. What have they said?

She's had insults to several systems. Whatever that means. We 
think her liver function will improve on its own. You think? It 
should. She's pretty well re-hydrated now, and we'll get her 
electrolytes balanced pretty soon. That should help her heart 
rhythm. Should? It should. There doesn't seem to be any permanent 
damage to her limbs, though an orthopedist needs to have a look 
at her shoulders. That's good, I guess. And the antibiotics 
should clear up her pneumonia and the infections in her lesions. 
Lesions? Her burns and cuts. Some of them are infected. We 
decided against giving her a transfusion for her anemia. Why? She 
should improve with medication and diet. I see. Two things we 
have to watch are her kidney function and her heart. 

"Wait a minute! I thought you said the electrolytes would clear 
up her heart."

"Well, yes, but there may be damage. We can't tell yet." 

"And her kidneys?" 

"We'll have to see how much they improve. She might be fine."

She might be fine. Geoffrey wakes up completely and thinks about 
that for awhile. 

* * * * *

Geoffrey has hardly left Anne's side. He hasn't had a choice. She 
held onto him through everything last night, even her x-rays. He 
couldn't let go of her hand to change positions without her 
getting agitated. He couldn't go to the bathroom until they gave 
her something to help her sleep, and when he got back she was 
rolling in a nightmare. He leaned down to her. "I'm here, Annie. 
It's okay. You're safe." She opened her eyes barely enough to see 
him, sighed "Geoffy," and faded back out.

Besides him, her room is filled with machines and charts and 
blinking lights, metal tubes and a glass wall to the main ICU 
staff area. Everyone who passes looks in at them. Staff come and 
go. Security sits just outside the door. During the night Geoff 
had tried to stay awake while waiting for all the tests. Someone 
would address him and he'd jerk out of a velvet sleep. He had a 
passing thought that he should call someone to cancel his 
classes, but who cares?

The doctors finished with Anne around three a.m. When they left, 
Geoff pushed a green vinyl chair right up against the bed, 
blocking one of the monitors, and held her hand through the 
safety bars. He woke an hour later to see her staring down at 
him, and for the first time he knew she was awake and aware and 
back in the world. She was looking at him with the saddest 
expression he had ever seen. 

"I hurt you and left you and you came for me." She couldn't 
continue. She cried with gulps and sobs.

"Annie. Annie." 

Geoffrey stood and leaned over her, and as he did the world spun 
and he held the bed rail. The world spun and spun, then merely 
rocked, then only trembled. Geoffrey put his mouth to Anne's 
temple. "Annie, Annie, it's okay. Please don't be sad." Her hair 
was clean. It smelled of shampoo. When did they have time to wash 
her? How did he miss it? The world twirled around Anne's temple, 
around the fine hair and the smell of shampoo.

"You should have let me die!" Her crying changed to coughs, and 
in a minute a nurse came in to give her something.

Anne drifted back to sleep but kept jolting awake. If Geoffrey 
sat completely still the room would stop floating, but Anne 
couldn't stop jumping, and every time he had to stroke her and 
whisper and put his cheek on her. Finally he slipped off his 
shoes and crawled onto the bed, under her IV line, and held her. 
No one was going to stop him. He fell asleep. When she'd kick and 
twist he'd simply hold her and say something, and they'd glide 
back under together. Then, during the night, Victor was leaning 
against the far wall, holding a cigarette in a European fashion, 
but when Geoffrey sat up Victor transformed himself into some 
sort of medical apparatus covered with a gray tarp. Satan! Geoff 
had to check to make sure he hadn't accidentally jerked out the 
IV tube. 

Later he woke snuggling Anne in a spoons position, with his hand 
on her hip, coming out of a dream in which they were fucking. He 
was completely erect and moving his penis up and down against 
her. He stopped. He thought she couldn't possibly ever want sex 
again. 

They were both asleep when the chief attending physician came in 
to give his morning report a few minutes ago. Behind him Geoffrey 
can see the morning nurse, smiling like the Mona Lisa and 
touching a finger to her lips. Annie sleeps through the whole 
thing. Someone put an oxygen mask on her during the night, and 
Geoff slept through it. What if Satan had sneaked in?

She might be fine.

* * * * *

Anne probably doesn't need so much time in ICU, but the mayor has 
made the call. "America's Most Wanted" started the ball rolling 
and now the case dominates the cable networks. It probably will 
for a few weeks, until some six-year-old shoots his father in 
Wyoming. For now it's Anne the celebrity, Anne the victim, Anne 
of the black box. The tabloids can't get enough of her. The mayor 
isn't going to let anything happen to her. At least the media are 
kept away from her floor, and the city picks up the tab.

On the second day, Geoff looks up at a TV in the cafeteria and 
there they are, videotapes of the basement and the box, along 
with edited footage from the Web site archives. It's a cable news 
talk show. The two hosts are supposed to represent the left and 
the right. Today they agree the nation needs new laws and a 
crackdown on Internet smut. The one from the right blames the 
Clinton administration for a breakdown in sexual morality.

Contributions from women's advocacy groups pour in. Cost isn't 
going to be a problem. The FBI doesn't make a big case of it, 
since after all no one was killed, but at least Victor is now a 
Federal fugitive. Photos of Victor are plastered everywhere, with 
the usual information on what numbers to call. 

* * * * *

The third day. 

They're edging down the hall toward the elevators. The doctors 
want Anne to walk but she's awfully weak, so they go slowly, she 
still swaying a little on those spindly legs. Geoffrey holds the 
wheeled IV bag cart to one side, the tube crossing behind his 
back. He pulls it along while his other arm is around her waist, 
supporting her and holding her to him. When they pass the nurses' 
station one nurse whispers to the other, "They're so sweet 
together," before turning back to the mayor's press conference on 
CNN.

Geoff is telling Anne something. Some little thing. "You promise 
to eat something for me, right Annie?" She usually won't speak, 
not since the first night. Maybe she'll utter a word or two 
almost under her breath, in a monotone, but that's it. She'll 
talk to Geoff a little, when they're alone. Now they murmur 
almost conspiratorially. Anne seems to be agreeing to try to eat. 
Then out of the blue she stops walking and begins to cry. She 
doesn't try to hide it, just stands there with tears flowing down 
her face, making panting little high-pitched sobs. Geoff turns to 
her and she puts her face to his chest. He doesn't know what to 
do. She shows no emotion to anyone else. She's a blank slate to 
them. Not to Geoffrey, though. Not now. He touches his free hand 
to her head. 

After a few minutes she's better. She looks up at him and puts 
fingers to his cheek and kisses him, then they walk some more.

Even before they can get back to her room Anne is winded and 
covered in a fine, itchy sweat. Geoff helps her to the bed and 
looks at her, wondering about the kiss. Anne speaks a whole 
sentence, "Geoff, don't look at me like that." 

"What? Like what?"

"You know." She looks away.

"Annie?"

"I'm so ashamed." She's still looking away. Her eyes are watery 
but there are no more tears.

"Oh. Well, should I keep my eyes closed?" He closes his eyes and 
walks toward her and almost falls when he stumbles against a 
rack. "Oh, shit. Damn!" Anne laughs the first part of a tiny 
laugh but catches herself and puts a hand to her mouth.

"It's just that..." She sighs. "I wish I could undo everything." 
She's silent for maybe ten seconds. "I know you have things you 
have to do." Silence again. Geoff sits down to wait her out. "You 
don't have to stay with me anymore. My mother can take care of 
me."

Geoffrey looks at her but doesn't answer. Finally he rises and 
goes through the ritual of getting the room ready for her nap. He 
closes the curtain and shuts the door. He turns out the overhead 
light. He refills her drink canister with fresh juice. He pulls 
up her covers and kisses her on the forehead. Then, finally, 
"Would you like me to leave?" Anne starts crying again.

"Annie. Annie. If you're going to cry at everything I say, I'll 
have to be mute." She wipes her eyes and tries to smile. "So 
here's the deal, Annie Fanny. I'm not going to try to take over 
your life. You know I'm not like that. When you tell me it's time 
to leave, I'm gone, and I'll be happy because you're better. But 
if you're saying that just because you think you're a burden, or 
you don't deserve help, or whatever... well, rethink it. I'm 
happy doing this." 

You'll never know how long I spent rehearsing parts of that 
spiel, Anne. Did I get the lighthearted tone right?

She makes herself not cry any more. "Thank you Geoffy. I'd like 
it. If you stayed with me awhile longer. Really." 

He leans to kiss her on the forehead again. A brotherly kiss, or 
a fatherly one. Whatever. When he leans the room shifts. Oh, no. 
Here comes another one, another rolling wave. So many of them. He 
sits down in the green vinyl chair to help it pass, while she 
rests, and he nods off after a few minutes but wakes feeling 
Anne's hand moving through his hair. "Come on up, Geoffy. You'll 
be more comfortable up here." On the bed, he's on his back and 
she curls against him, her head on his arm, and he is sound 
asleep in seconds. Anne lies perfectly still, looking at him. 
Occasionally she touches him while he sleeps. His chest. His 
cheek. He snores a little, but in a minute it changes to deep, 
regular breathing, almost as though he were breathing in sighs. 
When her mother comes in during visiting hours, Anne puts a 
finger to her lips to make her be quiet.

* * * * *

"I'd like to explore your feelings when you thought you'd always 
be his prisoner." 

The therapist won't let go. Anne looks at Geoffrey. "It's okay, 
Annie. Tell her." She squeezes his hand harder and looks down. 
She won't look directly at the therapist, who obviously wishes 
Anne would see her alone. 

When that time finally comes, though, Anne doesn't say two words. 
"Do you not want to talk about Victor?" asks the therapist, and 
Anne shakes her head, not looking up. "Is there anything you'd 
feel comfortable talking about?"

There's a long silence. The therapist neither fidgets nor looks 
away. Finally Anne says it, but in voice so quiet the therapist 
has to lean forward to hear her. 

"Geoffrey."

"Why?" More silence. The therapist waits again.

"I have to make him leave. But I don't want to."

"Why is that?" Annie just sits there.

The therapist gets Geoffrey alone to ask him about Anne. He asks 
her back, "What do you want to know?"

"You've gone above and beyond the call of duty."

"Well she's needed me."

"She told me about leaving you. For Mr. Bruno. So I have to 
wonder what your motives are?"

Oh shit. She's no dummy, this therapist. 

"Yeah. That. Okay. I know what you're getting at. I guess it 
shows. This is confidential, isn't it? Okay. Well the fact is I 
never got over her. But I can't tell her that. I know it's over. 
I'm afraid she'll feel she has to be nice to me because I'm her 
hero. You know. Out of gratitude. So I don't know what to do. Do 
you have any suggestions?"

"I think we three need to have a talk together."

* * * * *

It isn't that easy. 

Saving Anne turned out to be easy. Bringing her home is easy. 
Nothing else is.

At home, Anne follows Geoffrey around the house. When he gets the 
newspaper she's at the window watching him, as intently as do the 
paparazzi who seem to be camped out there. They always try to 
goad him into making a statement. They want photos of the sex 
victim, not Geoff, but he'll have to do unless she gets too close 
to the window. They finally give up when the story wanes, but 
Anne doesn't give up wanting Geoff to be in sight. When he mows 
the grass she sits in the rocking chair with a book in her lap 
and looks out at the lawn.

At first she has to ride to the university with him. While he 
lectures she sits in the back row, in a corner, eyes down so she 
doesn't have to acknowledge anyone. The first day a young woman 
said hello and Anne looked down at her desk and made a shy smile 
but didn't answer. Everyone knows she's the girl in the box, and 
some of the guys look at her, but there aren't any problems.

It's the same inside the house. If Geoff steps out of the den to 
go on-line while she's watching something on TV, in a moment 
she'll have drifted to the doorway. He won't even hear her, but 
when he looks up she'll be standing patiently, hovering at a spot 
where she can see him. He rises and walks over to envelope her in 
his arms and kiss her. "Do you want me to come back to the den?" 
He nuzzles her hair.

She plays with the top button on his shirt, looking at it instead 
of at his face. "Mm-hmm." She says it in a little girl tone. He 
teases, "You'll let me go to the bathroom alone, won't you?" and 
she answers "I guess," still playing with the button. But she 
sounds serious. 

Nothing is easy. Anne needs a night light. She has to touch Geoff 
while she's going to sleep, and he practices lying still so it'll 
be easier for her. She stirs when he gets up during the night. 
She wakes two, sometimes three times a night and sits up in bed, 
trying not to yell, her heart thundering. Geoffrey holds her and 
talks to her. "I'm here Anne. I'll always be here. Nothing will 
ever hurt you."

He's careful not to be sexual. He pulls her back down and kisses 
her, her ear, her neck, her mouth, murmuring in between, running 
his mouth over her temple, always going back to that fine hair 
that flies away. "There, there, Annie. My girl." They kiss while 
he holds and caresses and comforts her. Somehow they shift from 
lips to tongues, sucking and caressing each other's tongue. They 
always do, though he doesn't plan it. Geoffrey twists his body 
away so she won't notice his erection. He wants her. Oh Jesu, joy 
of man's desiring! Oh Jesus! Oh Yeshua Ben David! Oh God, I want 
to fuck her! He stops using his tongue and rubs a cheek over hers 
and murmurs something again, and then she nests against him and 
goes back to sleep while he waits for his penis to shrink.

If I were Victor I could make her want it. I'd just turn her on. 
It would be easy. I'd snap my fingers or tie her to the bed and 
she'd beg for it. Oh shut the fuck up. You aren't Victor and you 
don't want to be. Yes I do, in that one way.

He rises and walks to the guest bedroom to turn on the computer, 
where he goes to the files he wants, hidden in a folder within 
another folder inside a main folder. He plays the orgasm video 
that shows her flower opening and closing and he caresses his 
penis through his underwear. He pulls them down and runs his 
thumb up, down, around the head of his penis, letting it get 
slippery, petting himself while he watches orgasm videos. When 
he's about to come he pulls up his shirt, panting and straining 
to subdue his voice, while he spurts onto his chest and belly. 
Afterward he duck-walks into the bathroom, holding his pants out 
and his shirt up, to clean himself off. Before he gets back to 
bed Anne is tossing again.

"Annie. Annie. It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."

* * * * *

When they first go outside to walk, she's afraid the whole time. 
It's early autumn, breezy and clear. The first leaves run along 
the street. It's beautiful and she can't wait to finish and get 
back inside the house. When they go out by car she has to be in 
by sunset. She can't stand dark places like theaters. She sees 
Victor everywhere.

It is a long time before Anne can bring herself to see any of her 
friends. The whole time Jane is visiting, she and Anne clutch 
each others' hands and cry together. At one point Jane says, "You 
know, it could just as easily have been Maureen or me." Geoff 
wonders if Jane has watched any of the orgasm videos, and if 
she's a little jealous. He regrets it almost instantly, though 
Anne is more available on the Web than Pamela Anderson. Anyone 
with a credit card can see her.

In bed, before they're asleep, Anne twitches and whispers, "Did 
you hear that?" Geoffrey goes through the house once again. Every 
night he checks the security devices several times before coming 
to bed, and he does it again before going to work in the morning. 
"Have you done it, Geoff?" When he says yes she asks, "Could you 
do it again?" Motion detectors, window and door alarms, 
supplementary power, dead bolts, steel doors, barred windows. 
Cell phones preprogrammed with emergency numbers. Fortress 
Geoffy. He's even got micro-cams hidden around, all tied to 
recording devices. The donations are used up.

* * * * *

The third day that Anne stays home alone, the house is empty when 
Geoff gets back.

"Annie?" No sound.

The house looks normal. Nothing is disturbed. They talked half an 
hour ago.

"Annie?"

The door was locked when he got to it. The kitchen counter has 
things Anne had taken out for dinner, thawed chicken breasts, 
Parmesan cheese, sherry, butter. There's a paperback book, face 
down on the dining table. There's just no Anne.

He thinks why didn't I take the gun? If he's here I can't get to 
it. 

He grabs a knife. From a drawer in den he finds a taser. It's 
something.

"Annie!"

He hears her voice, muffled, as though far away. "I'm here, 
Geoff." It's from the bedroom. She sounds desperate. He runs down 
the hall, into the bedroom. "Annie?"

She's in the closet. She's standing with her back to the wall, 
beside the closet door, and she's holding a steak knife in both 
hands. She's trembling and crying.

"I heard him, Geoff! I heard him!"

"Where?"

"It wasn't him. I thought I heard him. I was so afraid!" Too 
afraid to call, to do the rational things.

Geoff takes the knife from her carefully. He has to pry her 
fingers away. He lets her tremble against him until finally she's 
calm. He puts his cheek on her head and kisses her and brushes 
her with his hands.

"Next time call me right away, okay honey? I'd die before I'd let 
him get to you."

At the word "die" Anne's eyes snap open. She pulls her hands up 
and slaps them on his chest, hard.

"No! Don't say that!"

"What?"

"You're not allowed to die. You can't! You can't! Tell me you 
won't ever die! Say it!"

And he says it of course. Then Anne demands something different.

"I want to die. Please let me, Geoff. Let me die."

"No! Stop it, Anne."

"Please. I want to die. I can't stand it anymore."

Geoff picks her up, swoops her up. She still isn't very heavy. He 
carries her to the bed while she begs him, "I just want to die," 
where he lays her down and pulls a quilt over her. He lies down 
right beside her, under the quilt, puts pillows behind her, puts 
one lightly over her head so they're completely nested. He holds 
her closely and strokes her hair and her back, stroking her. She 
continues to beg. "Let me die, Geoffy. I love you but I can't 
stand it."

"Shh. It'll be all right. You'll see." He strokes her again, but 
she won't stop. She's not loud. She doesn't even seem to be paying 
attention. She might be half asleep, her face burrowed up against 
him, and she asks quietly to die. It's a mantra, a half whisper, 
a murmur, on and on. "I want to die."

"Shh." 

"Let me die. Please Geoffy. Let me. Let me."

* * * * *

It gets too hard. The next night he comes to bed after checking 
security. They kiss and talk, kiss and talk, and when she shifts 
a little her hand brushes his penis. "Geoffy? Would you like to 
make love?" 

"No, but I want to massage you." Fucking liar. Scratch that. 
Fuckless liar.

"It would be okay."

"My Annie." He smiles at her and kisses her again. They've become 
excellent kissers. "You'd say anything I wanted to do was okay."

"Uh-huh."

He loosens her peignoir. Anne isn't wearing panties. Ah, her poor 
body, her poor shrunken breasts, barely starting to soften and 
round out again. There are still some faint, yellow bruises and 
traces of cuts and burns that are starting to turn into little 
pink scars. Her pubic hair is returning. She looks different 
since the docs took out the piercings. It was medical necessity-
some of them were infection sites-but Geoffrey looks at her and 
wishes they'd left one each in her nipples and clitoris. God 
damned perv. 

He begins with her shoulders. He lifts and caresses them, running 
his hands around them. He's especially gentle with them because 
they still trouble her so much. He warms them with light, 
circular strokes, then massages harder and deeper to loosen them, 
and after a bit Anne says "Ooooo" in a soft voice.

Down her arms and to her hands, first one side and then the 
other. Do each finger separately. Massage round and round each 
palm with his thumbs. He goes to her legs. The soles of her feet 
and her toes first. She can't help squirming when he begins on 
her soles. Then up her legs, following the venous flow upward, 
warming and working her wasted muscles, calves and thighs, before 
traveling around and past her vulva. Don't get too close there. 
Skirt her breasts. You can touch them just a little. He spends a 
lot of time on Anne's head and neck, massaging her forehead, jaw, 
scalp. Pulling lightly on her hair. She's almost out by now, 
hypnotized from it all, but he doesn't stop. Down to her chest, 
using only the tips of his fingers around the outer edges, then 
up the middle, then around. She sighs. To her stomach.

He plays with her nipples.

He brushes them with his fingertips. Her nipples harden. He 
tickles the skin around them. Anne's breathing changes but she's 
not tense. Geoffrey runs his fingertips all the way down from her 
breastbone to her stomach, to her pubis. He edges them slowly 
down to her labia, and between them. She's slippery. Anne still 
lies relaxed, but her breathing is richer.

"Anne." He half whispers. "I'm going to play with your body some 
more. Is that all right?"

Her voice comes from some far-away place. "Yes, Geoffy. Do it." 
She doesn't move. She doesn't go rigid either.

Geoffrey plays with her sex as part of the massage, running his 
hands around her, then through her, then around and down to her 
thighs, then up her lips. He pulls on her lips. Her breathing is 
louder and quicker. She says "Ooooo" again, in a long, smooth 
moan and pulls her head back. He thinks, what of her burns? It 
hasn't been that long. But he looks and can hardly make anything 
out. So he plays with her labia some more and she moans again. 
Finally he thinks, to hell with the massage, and he leans down to 
lick her clitoris.

"Oh Geoff. Yes!" She pulls her head back as far as she can 
against the pillows. She puts a hand to Geoff's head. In a minute 
she pushes her hips at him and pulls his hair. He sucks on her 
and moves his mouth around and she begins moving. She jerks at 
him and says "Huh!" as she moves her pubis. "Huh! Huh!" and she's 
almost coming already. He yanks down his underwear. When he puts 
his penis to her it slides in like she's greased. Fuck into her. 
She's pushed flat into the mattress and goes "Huh!" again. His 
weight has pushed the air out of her. No stopping now. He fucks 
again, pushing her flat again. Again she goes "Huh!" followed by 
a high-pitched "Oh!" Geoff's pleasure is coming on. He fucks into 
her hard, again, again, and then he's over the top and holds his 
prick hard inside her, just moving it a little bit, in and out, 
push, push, until he's finished coming. Finally he just lies atop 
her. It's another minute before he realizes she hasn't caught her 
breath. He lifts off her but she keeps huffing. 

"Annie, are you all right?"

"Oh yes." Gasp. "Oh yes." Gasp. "Oh God, Geoff." She pants awhile 
longer. It doesn't keep her from needing comfort during the 
night. 

* * * * *

In the morning Geoffrey wakes to the feel of Anne's mouth on him.

"Anne? What are you doing?" As if it isn't obvious. "You don't 
have to do that." He's already completely erect and her mouth 
flesh moves up and down over him. He pulls her off him. "Anne. 
You don't need to."

"Stop it!" She seems almost angry. "You do everything for me. You 
have to let me do this for you, Geoff. You have to!" 

He lets her take him in again and in a minute he begins to pant 
and pulls his hands into fists at his sides. Anne takes him 
deeper. Then he's deeper again. And then he feels the squeezing 
of her throat on him. Her mouth is all the way down to his body. 
Satan must have taught her how to do it. She holds him, then 
pulls up and breathes several breaths, then goes all the way 
down, down and up, fucking his prick with her mouth and throat. 
She stops for more air. Geoff has never felt anything like it. 
Down she goes. He can't help it. He holds her head and starts 
fucking up into her throat, not even letting her breath. And 
grunts and comes into her. Before he finishes, her hands have 
started to move spastically over his torso and thighs. The moment 
he can stand to he pulls completely out of her.

Anne coughs and gasps for a moment, but she has a satisfied look, 
or maybe looks like the cat who swallowed the penis. The two 
stare at each other, her cheek resting on his thigh, a hand on 
his penis. Geoff is too spent to do anything but breath, and it's 
Anne who speaks first. "You have to let me do things. Okay 
Geoff?"

* * * * *

Coda.

That's when it happens. 

Anne finds everything Geoffrey had downloaded from the Web site. 
You would think it was well-enough hidden. Geoff had thought so. 
When he gets home she is sitting before the computer, staring out 
the window, and her hands are in her lap. On the monitor is 
frozen the last image from one of her orgasm videos, waiting for 
her to push the "play" button yet again. Geoff doesn't know what 
to say.

"It's what led me to you, Annie," he tries. "It's the only way I 
could know to save you."

"I know. I know. But I didn't know everything you saw, or what 
everyone saw. You saw me when..." She has to stop. "You saw when 
he made me want him."

What can he possibly say? She stares down at the screen. He 
wonders if she will forgive him.

But Geoff begins to notice things in the room and knows that 
isn't the entire issue. He hadn't noticed when he walked in but 
now they're important. Like what? Like she's dressed only in 
panties and a sleeveless T, and her jeans are lying on the floor 
as though kicked aside. And there's a smell in the room. It's 
Annie. It's sex. When he's close enough she almost reeks of sex. 
It doesn't take long to put it together. It isn't that she's 
disappointed in him, at least not that way. It's something else. 
He can't believe it at first, but it's the only answer.

"How many of the videos did you see?"

"All of them."

"All day long?" She turns toward him but doesn't say a word. He 
makes his voice soft. "Annie. I can tell. It made you hot to 
watch them."

Geoff can connect the dots. Did she shiver when she knew what the 
files were? Did she wonder why Geoff kept them? Of course she 
did. She must have. But, there's the other thing.

How did she come to click one? Didn't that fear of Victor flow 
through her? But she clicked one anyway. How did she manage it, 
manage through the fear, afraid of what she'd see? How? Maybe it 
was the other feeling. Maybe she already had it, that tiny, 
swelling vibration in her chest that signals desire. Maybe it was 
there, the thing in her that lusts for domination. Maybe she was 
drawn to it. Still afraid. Approach, avoidance. But she clicked 
one. She did. She watched one. She saw Victor control her and 
pleasure her and saw herself awash in bliss from it. Bliss like 
nothing she'd experienced before him, or since. That she had to 
feel again.

"What do you mean?"

"Watching him do that to you. It made you hot."

"Geoff, no! Those feelings aren't there anymore. Please believe 
me. You have to believe me. I don't want any of that. Ever." She 
takes both his hands and stares him in the face. Her would have 
apologized, but her right hand is redolent of musk. Geoff makes a 
point of smelling it.

"Annie, please. Even though you're afraid of him you got hot."

Her eyes get big and she drops his hands. "No! Stop it!"

"Then stop lying to me!" 

Silence. He last raised his voice last year. He remembers the 
details. This room. After Anne's sex cries. After Victor's 
beautiful voice and his oily analysis, "Well Anne, love. It looks 
like you're going to have to explain things to him earlier, 
rather than later." He remembers Victor's look of satisfaction 
when he left. He remembers shouting at Anne afterward. Now her 
face has crumpled and she cringes like she cringed last year. 
Geoffrey can't catch his breath. Here's how it finally ends, he 
thinks. 

"I'm sorry Anne. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He's blinking so he won't 
cry. He's trying to control himself. He doesn't want to be weak 
now. "It's just that I love you and I'm going to lose you again 
and I don't know what to do." He can't control himself.

Outside the window, at the edge of the yard, is a row of white 
pines. Just beyond is a rise, and on it are impossibly tall 
southern pines, and red oaks whose leaves haven't yet fallen. A 
blue norther is pushing through. The sky is clear and sunny and 
the southern pines and the oaks sway together, far over, then the 
tops seem to twist around each other, around and back, in a 
dance. A single red leaf detaches itself and dance-dance-dances 
across the sky until it dances out of sight.

Anne straightens up. She wipes her eyes, crying again. They both 
are. It's the way of the world. You go a long time without a 
single tear, but when the time comes there's nothing else to do. 
She steps up to Geoff and puts her hands on his shoulders. He's a 
statue. She touches her forehead to his chest, then raises her 
face to look at him.

"Geoff, you're not going to lose me. I wouldn't do that to you. 
Not again. I love you too much." 

Geoffrey steps back from her. 

"I believe you. But I can't give you that one thing. He could. We 
both know it. I'll work on it. We can try things. But if it's not 
enough..." His voice is high and tight and it finally breaks. "If 
you have to leave... it'll be okay."

She pursues him. She hugs him to her. "I wouldn't do that to you. 
I couldn't. Geoffy, you silly idiot, I'm with you for the long 
haul." 

He pushes at her arms but she doesn't let him get away. 

"I know you don't have any reason to believe me. I know I'm a bad 
prospect. But give me the chance and I'll show you." She kisses 
Geoffrey on his cheek, his mouth, his nose, his chin. She pulls 
his forehead down to hers and rubs her nose over his, and he 
stops crying. He wipes his eyes and she says, "No one else could 
do what you've done for me. For me. My own Superman. And you're 
still such a sweet, silly guy, so uncertain and vulnerable. 
There's no one else like you. Please, please, don't worry about 
us."

Geoff is done backing away. He wipes his entire face, then rubs 
his hands on his pants. The wind rattles something attached to 
the house.

"Well, I want you to know. I couldn't stand making you go through 
life feeling part of you was cut off. So I'd be your base. If you 
needed me."

"I won't! Don't say that, Geoff!" She breaks away from him, turns 
her back. Her back is stiff, her arms straight down at her sides, 
her hands clenched.

"Just promise me one thing. Don't let it be Victor. He's out 
there. He'll want you again." Anne tries to say something but 
Geoffrey rushes on. "I can feel it. If he calls or writes or 
sends an email or anything, don't respond. Don't meet him. I 
couldn't stand it if he got you again."

There's a long silence while Anne's hands unclench and her head 
droops. She pulls her hands up to her face, then drops them and 
turns back to him. She takes one of his hands in both of hers. 
Three wet hands. 

"I promise Geoffy. I promise."

End.
