She sighed and pulled her hands from the wheel to check her watch. She'd been sitting there for a full five minutes. Soon she would be officially late. She swallowed hard, but it was a dry swallow. For the hundredth time, she reached for the key to start the car and just drive away.

And for the hundredth time, she paused, left the engine off, and resumed her nervous, silent waiting.

The dozens of incremental steps that had led her here flashed through her mind. Looking back, it almost seemed planned, preordained. But she knew it hadn't been. She'd taken those first hesitant steps into the online world of chats, groups, and instant messaging only to satisfy her curiosity.

Most of the contacts she made went nowhere. In fact many were so loathsome she'd had to change her ID to rid herself of them.

But one of them was different. When she'd changed her online identity, she'd been sure to let him know how to find her again. Somehow, he seemed to be able to see right into her soul, even into its darkest corners where she feared to venture herself. When they talked, she felt guided and comforted in the face of thoughts and feeling she'd so often fled from before.

Over time, all he needed to do was say hi to get her excited. It was kind of silly when she thought about it. How could voiceless words on the screen have such power over her?

It didn't hurt that he sometimes sent images as well. The pictures showed women in situations she could only imagine, women being dominated, controlled, even erotically tortured. Her desire to be those women was so strong, it felt like a physical presence. She'd let the desire wash over her, revel in the release it gave her, but would invariably shrink away from it, sending it back to its shadowy corner.

One day, he suggested they meet. They lived only a couple hundred miles apart. It wouldn't be difficult to arrange.

She wasn't ready, she told him. He said he understood and dropped the subject. But only for a while. When he suggested it again, she said she'd think about it, but once more declined.

Over the next few months, he asked several more times, his arguments growing more and more persuasive. If her need to be dominated was so vital a part of her psyche, why relegate it to a fantasy world? If they connected so well online, why not see if it translated into real life chemistry? If she didn't want to jump right to having sex with him, why not just a casual meeting in a public place?

All the while, he gave her additional details about his real life, things she could verify if she wished, and she knew he was trying to gain her trust.

At last, she'd said yes.

And so she sat now in the parking lot of a restaurant midway between their respective cities. She continued staring at the door, picturing him inside, waiting for her. It was just a simple lunch meeting. He was just a man, not a fearsome monster. What was she so terrified of?

Again, decisively, she reached for the ignition key. She turned it, started the engine and grabbed the shift lever. Then she stopped short. Suddenly, like a slap in the face, she realized that what she feared was not in that restaurant. It was inside her. She could step on the gas and drive off, but she could never escape that way.

She turned the engine off. Her heart was racing. Shaking, she pulled the handle and opened the door. When she stepped out her legs felt so weak she had to lean on the roof of the car for a moment. Then she took a deep breath, turned, and strode forward to meet her fate.

As she approached the door, Julie reminded herself of the "terms" she'd agreed to. This would be solely a get-to-know each other meeting. Public place. No sex. And she'd have a friend waiting to hear from her at a set time later that day. She had come to trust him almost completely, but the key word was "almost." Everything he'd told her about himself had checked out. Still, she felt it best to take some precautions.

He had agreed readily, although he'd modified "no sex" to "nothing overtly sexual." She had smiled at that, realizing there was no way she could meet this man with whom she'd shared so many of her most closely guarded secret desires without there being sexual undertones.

He had also cautioned her that he intended to "test" her, although he would not elaborate on what he meant. As their relationship was built upon his desire to dominate and her need to submit, she had a vague notion of what he intended. But not knowing anything specific was driving her crazy.

When she stepped into the lobby of the restaurant, she felt her heart begin racing again. This was it. She glanced past the maitre d's stand to see if she could pick him out among the tables. She wasn't sure how well the photo he'd sent would translate into real life, especially in the subdued lighting of the dining room.

"Do you have a reservation, ma'am?" asked the maitre d'.

Reservations for lunch, she thought. Pretty fancy place.

"Ma'am?"

"I- I-"

As she struggled to make her dry vocal tract work, he glanced down at the chart on his podium. "Are you Julie?" he asked.

"Yes!" she said, too loudly. The question startled and excited her. Obviously, the maitre d' had been told not only to expect her, but what she looked like.

"He's waiting for you. Follow me, please."

He led her all the way through the large dining room to a table in the farthest corner.

"Your waitress will be with you soon," said the maitre d', then left.

Julie stood as if frozen. The man at the table looked up and smiled. He did look like the photograph. Same dark hair, touched with gray. Same mustache. His face appeared a little more creased, older than the picture, but the sparkle in his eyes as he looked at her was that of an expectant teenager.

He was seventeen years her senior. The age difference meant nothing online, of course, but this was real life now. She'd never dated anyone more than a few years older than her, and had been apprehensive about this aspect of their meeting on top of everything else. Yet standing there in front of him she could already tell it would be okay.

"Julie," he said, simply.

"Jonah," she answered. She wondered if her voice sounded as cracked as it felt.

"We meet at last."

"Yes."

She tried to return his smile, but felt too weak to move even her facial muscles. Summoning all her resolve, she reached for her chair to sit down.

"Wait," said Jonah. His voice was calm, yet his tone commanding.

Julie stopped and looked at him, questioning. "What? Is something wrong?"

"Not at all. I just want you to stand for a moment. I want to look at you."

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She stood up straight and chewed her lip.

"You may set your purse down," he said.

She did so, then straightened up again.

"You're fidgeting, Julie. Just let your hands hang at you sides."

She tried to comply, but was surprised how hard it was to just stand there while her studied her. She followed his gaze as it roamed at leisure up and down and up again.

Because their table was in a corner and she faced the table, Julie couldn't see any of the other diners. She wondered if anyone had noticed her standing there. Her face felt hot as flame as she imagined strangers' eyes trained upon her, watching, curious.

"You're even more beautiful in person," said Jonah at last.

"Th- Thank you."

She wore exactly what he'd told her to. His only instructions were a simple black skirt and white blouse. She'd picked out the lacy bra and panties, and the low heeled black mules herself.

He sat there silently for a moment. She wasn't sure if he was finished or not. Should she sit down now?

"Turn," he said just as she was about to reach for her chair again. "To your right. Slowly. That's good."

Julie did as he told her. As she turned, the dining room came gradually into view. She saw several people quickly diverting their eyes. They had been staring just as she'd imagined.

When her back was to Jonah, he said, "Stop there."

Again, she obeyed his command. Her eyes darted about the dimly lit room, catching fleeting glances from the others. What must they be thinking? She felt like she was on display. Already embarrassed at being forced to stand and be appraised by Jonah, she now experienced a degree of humiliation she never dreamed possible. The blush in her cheeks spread through her whole body. Her chin trembled as she tried not to cry.

A waitress approached. "Are you all right, ma'am," she asked.

Julie could only nod, as she heard Jonah's voice add, "We're fine. We just need a few more minutes."

The waitress gave Julie a puzzled, concerned look, then turned and left.

"You may face me again," said Jonah.

Julie practically gasped with relief.

"Not too fast," he warned.

By the time she was facing him again, she felt her breathing return to normal. She found him still studying her, measuring her figure, her waist, her hips, and her bust. She knew she was fidgeting again, smoothing her skirt, straightening her blouse.

"You're especially lovely when you're flustered, Julie."

Her mouth opened but she had no response. Her heart pounded and her face flushed even more. He glanced down, and she assumed he was finished making her stand. She reached for her chair to finally seat herself.

"I didn't say you could sit yet."

She pulled her hand back as if she'd touched a hot iron. She stood straight once more, and looked down at Jonah. This time there was no doubt people behind her were staring at her. She'd seen them. Who knew the mere act of standing could be such torture?

Seconds passed. Perhaps a full minute.

"Julie," said Jonah.

"Yes?"

"Why are you still standing?"

The question completely threw her. Was he saying in some roundabout way that she should sit now? She figured that was it, and so, for the fourth time, she started to sit.

"No." Again, his voice was gentle yet firm. "I did not mean for you to sit. I asked a question. Answer it. Why are you still standing?"

The answer seemed self-evident. She didn't understand why he was asking, but if he wanted an answer, she could answer. "Because you told me to."

He blinked, but his expression didn't change. No smile. No hint that he was satisfied with the answer.

"Julie," he said again.

"Yes?"

"Why are you still standing?"

"I just told-" She stopped herself. Why was he doing this? It had to be the test he'd mentioned. Of course it was, but still, she wondered why. It was stupid and pointless. Then she remembered how he'd taught her to address him as "sir." He didn't insist on it all the time, but when he wanted her to do it, he rarely said so outright, but would instead hint that she was being unresponsive.

It had been a big step just to type the word. Now she wondered if she would be able to say it out loud. "B- Because you told me to. Sir." She smiled at how comfortable it felt to say.

Jonah's lips curled into a half smile, but he shook his head. "Nice try, Julie, but that's not what I'm after. Let me ask it another way. I may have told you to remain standing, but my words are just vibrations in the air. They have no physical presence. They can't hold you up. Think about it, and tell me why you're still standing."

Julie couldn't believe how disappointed she was that her answer was wrong. She'd been so sure of herself. She wanted to pout.

Think about it, he said. Think about what? She was standing because he told her to. It was obvious. How could that be the wrong answer? Her mind raced, searching for some clue to the right one.

"Because I- I want to obey you?" she guessed.

"You don't sound very sure, Julie. Are you asking me, or answering me?"

"Because I want to obey you. Sir."

"No," he said with a wry chuckle. "Very close this time, but still no."

When Julie Met Jonah
Copyright 2004 by Rod Harden
rodharden@yahoo.com
All rights reserved
Do not reproduce without written permission from the author

Damn! But that had to be it. What else could he be looking for? She felt deflated, close to despair. Answering the question was suddenly the most important thing in the world. She no longer cared what the other diners might be thinking. But what if she couldn't figure it out? How long would he keep her standing there, guessing? What if he grew impatient and dismissed her?

In her distress, she felt a tear form and begin to flow down her burning cheek. She lifted her hand to wipe it away.

"Let it fall," said Jonah.

She forced herself to lower her hand again. She clutched the hem of her skirt and let the tear trace it own course to her trembling chin. It clung to her skin for a moment and then fell to the floor.

And the whole time, she continued trying to puzzle through the test. Why? Why had she let her tear flow down her cheek just now? Why did she put her hand down when she wanted to wipe it away? Why had she turned around for him while the whole restaurant watched? And why was she still standing there when she wanted to sit? Why was she doing any of these things?

"Oh!" she gasped. Realization hit her like a blow to the gut. She looked at him, her face full of excitement. "I know!" she said, trying to keep her voice low. "I'm still standing because I- I have to. I have to obey you. It's not a choice. Not a matter of wanting to. I have to do what you say. It's inside me, isn't it? It's this need. It's inside me, a part of me. We've talked about it. I remember now. I need this- this control. For you to control me. Is that right? Jonah? Sir?"

He smiled and nodded. "Yes, Julie. That's right. You need it. And I do as well in my own way. After all, a command is just a bunch of empty words unless it's obeyed, isn't it?" He added, "Would you like to sit now?"

"Yes, sir." For what she hoped was the last time, she reached for the chair, but paused and looked up again. "May I sit, please?"

"Yes, you may."

She seated herself and gazed across the table at him. "Thank you," she said. And she meant it. She was truly grateful to him, for allowing her to sit.

"Good girl," he said.

She bubbled with delight at having pleased him, all the while marveling at the absurdity of it all, of her own feelings. Twenty minutes ago, she would never have imagined feeling gratitude toward a man who would publicly humiliate her. But there it was. She felt it and she wasn't about to deny it. Instead she welcomed it.

"Thank you," she said again, and she laughed at his confusion. "For the test."

He smiled warmly. "The first of many, I hope. Now... Are you hungry?"

"Yes," she said. Adding to herself, in more ways than one!

As Jonah opened his menu, Julie looked around for hers, and noticed it was on his side of the table. In fact, he was resting an elbow on it.

"Jonah? Can I see a menu?"

"No," he said, looking up. He held her gaze and allowed many long silent seconds to slip by. His dark eyes communicated far more than his one spoken syllable. Julie's pulse had just begun to slow, but now sped up again. She squirmed in her seat, melting beneath his stare.

"Okay," she managed to say in a raspy whisper.

He signaled to the waitress, who hurried over to the table and looked at Julie, clearly expecting her to order first. Julie lowered her eyes and studied the salt and pepper shakers.

"The lady will have a glass of white wine," said Jonah. "Just a glass of water for me. And we'll both have the grilled salmon." He specified Italian dressing for his salad, and said "none" for Julie's. Then he handed the menus to the waitress and waited till she'd gone.

Julie looked up and studied the man across from her. How did he do what he did? How did he make the word "no" sound like a command to strip and kneel at his feet? She wanted him to say it again, to feel the thrill of his refusal shudder down her spine. She wanted him always to refuse her what she asked for, to be mean to her always.

She was mesmerized by him, helpless in his presence, madly craving his cruelty. She watched his lips moving and imagined them on her body. If only she were truly helpless, she thought, bound in his ropes, writhing under his touch.

She heard his voice. He was speaking to her in a casual, everyday tone. When she snapped out of her reverie, she caught only the last word.

"... drive?" he said.

"Drive?" she asked.

"Yes. I asked how was your drive? You know, car, wheels, zoom zoom..."

"Oh, right," she laughed nervously. "Not bad. Just a little construction along the way."

He went on, making small talk, and she struggled to concentrate. She smiled and nodded whenever it seemed appropriate, when he appeared to pause for a response from her. But what he talked about was lost. She wanted him to command her again. And he knew it. She could see it in his eyes. He was taunting her, tormenting her with small talk.

At last the waitress returned with their meals. It smelled delicious and she realized how hungry she really was. As the waitress placed the dishes on the table, Jonah looked directly at Julie and said, "Undo a button on your blouse."

Julie blushed madly, glancing at the waitress who pretended not to hear.

"Do it now, Julie."

"Yes, sir," she said, fumbling with the top button.

The waitress finished setting the table, looked from Julie to Jonah and back again. Jonah ignored her presence and said, "Undo another."

"Yes, sir," whispered Julie.

"One more."

She could only nod, as she lowered her trembling hands to the third button.

The waitress started to say something, then just shook her head and left. Across the table, Jonah's eyes were glued to Julie's open blouse. Her lacy bra was plainly visible now. Her nipples grew hard under his stare. They ached as they pressed against the lace, prominent even through her blouse.

At last, he looked down, cut a piece of his filet and savored it. Her hands still unsteady, she lifted her knife and fork and began to cut into hers.

"What are you doing?"

She looked up and found him frowning at her.

"I- I'm eating."

"Julie," he said, setting his utensils down. "A few minutes ago I referred to you as 'the lady', remember? 'The lady will have a glass of wine,' I said. But does a lady unbutton her blouse in public?"

"No," she whispered.

"No, what?"

"No, sir."

"What type of girl does do something like that?"

Oh god no, she thought. She knew where he was leading her, what he wanted her to say. Again, tears welled up in her eyes. Her chest felt tight, constricted.

"Well?" he prompted.

"A- A slut, sir."

"That's right, Julie. You unbuttoned your blouse in public, so apparently you are a... what, Julie?"

"I- I'm a slut." Her voice, barely audible, cracked as she choked back a sob.

"And sluts," he continued, "must ask permission to eat." His voice was so serious, yet that twinkle in his eye had returned. He was loving this, making her squirm like this.

She steadied herself and looked across the table at him, at his smiling, eager eyes. "May I eat now, sir?" She knew what he would say even as she asked.

The gleam in his eye flashed bright. "No," he said.

Julie moaned aloud. This new cruelty swept over her in a rush of sweet torture. Jonah grinned at her, then cut another piece and continued eating.

"Mmm. Delicious," he said.

Julie stared at her meal, untouched, and growing cold. Jonah ignored her completely now, eating, sipping his water, dabbing his chin with his napkin. She waited for what she hoped was a long enough time then tried again.

"Now, sir?"

"Hm? Now, what?" He looked up, barely able to contain his amusement.

"May I eat now, sir?"

Again he said, "No."

By this time the waitress returned and he handed his empty plate to her. She looked at Julie's uneaten meal and asked, "Is something wrong with the food, ma'am?"

Jonah answered, "She's not as hungry as she thought. You can take it."

The waitress gave Julie a skeptical glance, and she nodded her agreement with Jonah. She had no choice but to obey.

"Would you care for anything else?"

"No," said Jonah. "Just bring me the check."

As the waitress left, Julie's tummy rumbled. She pouted at Jonah, "You're so mean."

"True," he said, smiling. Then he added, "You should button up."

Sadly, Julie obeyed. It was already time to leave. The hour had gone by too quickly.

"Julie," said Jonah. "We agreed to nothing overtly sexual, right?"

She nodded, though she thought the unbuttoned blouse had been pretty darned overt.

"I haven't even touched you yet," he said.

Again she nodded.

"And I'm only going to touch you just this once."

He reached across the table with his right hand. She smiled and stretched out her left hand for him to take in his. But he reached past her open palm and clasped her wrist instead, circling it with his fingers, locking them snug.

She gasped at his firm grip, instinctively pulling back. But he tightened his hold and pinned her arm to the table. The thrill of his touch shot through her like a jolt. He moved her arm from side to side, turning it, twisting it, alternately loosening and tightening his grasp. She watched him manipulate her limb as if it didn't belong to her, even when he squeezed hard enough to make her wince.

"Look at me, Julie," he said.

She raised her eyes and caught her breath. Somehow, for a fleeting moment, he let down his guard. His expression was truly wicked, cruel, his eyes filled with feral lust. She could see the beast raging just below the surface of the soft spoken man in the business suit, a beast he struggled to rein in.

All at once, a scene unfolded in her mind. It seemed to emanate from him, as though communicated through his grip on her arm and the want in his eyes.

She saw him suddenly yank her arm hard, dragging her body across the table. His hands clutched and tore at her clothing. From his mouth came animal-like snarls and growls. He pinioned her arms behind her, and spun her to face away from him.

In her vision, she saw herself bent over the edge of the table, helplessly writhing beneath his sudden assault. He spread her legs and her engorged cunt dripped with desire to match his own. Baring his rigid cock, he rammed himself into her, thrusting with brutal urgency. She screamed to the amusement of the other diners.

With a howl, he impaled her one last time, before shuddering and withdrawing. The beast sought only to satisfy itself, carelessly leaving her body spent, used, unfulfilled.

With a blink, she banished the vision. Jonah looked like himself again, the animal once more in its cage.

"Jonah," she breathed.

He smiled, but said nothing, his hand still grasping her wrist.

"Jonah, I- I've changed my mind. I want you to take me. Today. We can find a cheap room somewhere. Use me. Please."

Slowly, he relaxed his grip and peeled his fingers from her arm. He took a deep breath, then shook his head. "No," he said. After a moment he repeated, louder, "No!"

She didn't know if he was talking to her or the beast.

Numbly, she followed behind him as he paid the bill and headed for the parking lot. He walked her to her car and they stood in silence. He stroked her hair and caressed her face. A second touch.

"I have to go," he said.

She leaned toward him, wanting to taste his lips on hers, but he declined. One last cruelty to remember him by.

"We'll meet again, Julie," he said.

She nodded. "I'd like that. I want to. I- I need it." The hunger in her belly remained dwarfed by the smoldering ache between her thighs. She wondered how she'd make it home in such a state.

"It'll be soon," he said.

"Yes, please," she sighed.

"And next time," he added with a wry smile, "I'll set the terms."