Page 45 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
“No...”
The word comes out fast, panic cutting through everything as I try to pull back.
“Help me!” I shout. “It’s Paul! Paul did—”
The second slap is harder.
My head snaps sideways again, the pain sharper this time.
“Now we have to start again,” he says, irritated.
Something is shoved into my mouth. A gag. Tight. Cutting off the rest of my words.
My breathing spikes, panic rising fast as I try to pull away, but his hand grips my face again, holding me in place for the camera.
“Better,” he says quietly.
His thumb strokes my cheek again.
Slow.
Controlled.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Now they can see you’re mine.”
My stomach turns.
He lowers the phone like nothing just happened.
Then he picks me up.
I try to fight it, but my body still isn’t right, still too slow, too heavy, and it barely makes a difference as he carries me back into the bedroom.
He puts me on the bed.
Cold metal closes around my ankle.
A chain attached to the frame.
“I didn’t want to restrain you,” he says. “But you need to learn how to behave.”
My chest tightens.
“You’re safe here,” he adds.
The words don’t land.
He steps back and looks at me like he’s satisfied.
“I’ll finish making your food,” he says. “Then we can relax.”
My breathing is uneven behind the gag.
“We’ll watch something,” he continues. “Your favorites are all here.”
He gestures toward the room.
“Pick one.”
