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She was compliant, neither helping nor hindering, as I fastened her wrists to the cuffs on the upper arms of the cross, and her ankles to the lowers.I popped a small ball gag into her mouth. It wasn’t enough to silence her if she wanted to be heard, but she understood I meant her to remain quiet.Then I released the locking pin and rotated the cross a hundred and eighty degrees, so her legs were up and her arms were down. I relocked the cross, and stepped back to see that, just as I’d planned, her skirt had flipped down, covering her upper body, and leaving her bare from the waist up to her toes. I smoothed out the skirt where it was bunched up behind her body, and then admired the half of her that had been hidden under the skirt when she was standing upright.Stepping close to her, I licked between her legs, bringing up some moisture, which sparkled in the spotlights.Grabbing the test tube I’d prepared, I rubbed it in my palms to make sure it was warm. Then I gently inserted it into. Wasn't it? Pushing back from my desk, I walk to the window in my den that overlooks the back yard. I can see some ducks playing in the pond, the mother gently calling to her ducklings to follow her. My thoughts are confused and whirling around inside my head. A thousand memories shared with Lisa flash across the movie screen inside my head, and I fight to regain control. Shaking my head, I walk back to the desk and sit down.I stare at the phone.It sits there, silently mocking me. Call her, it seems to say to me, pick up the phone and make a complete fool out of yourself. You've had more chances than anyone has a right to expect, and you've turned away from all of them. Go ahead. Call her.I push the phone away in disgust and slide my chair back, tiliting it so I can put my legs up on the desk. As I settle back, my hands clasped behind my head, my gaze takes in the lucite picture frame perched on one corner of the desk. It's a photo of Lisa and me, at the beach, taken about three years.
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