She stood there, wearing only a harness of leather straps. Two horizontal bands circled her chest above and below her breasts. A third drew in her already narrow waist. A vertical strap connected the others, then plunged down past her navel and between her legs, bisecting her cunt and ass. After ascending her back, and intersecting the three horizontal bands, it split in two to pass over her shoulders before joining again in front. The tight black bands accentuated her body and made her feel more exposed than if she were nude.

She shivered, though the dusk was warm, yet she kept her hands clasped behind her head as instructed. Her nipples stood out prominently, puckered so hard they ached. The leather between her legs was darker than black with the wetness of an arousal she dared not acknowledge.

"Now turn around for the people," barked Jonah from within the room.

Obediently, she began a slow rotation. Gradually, the interior of the hotel room came into view. She saw Jonah standing there, snapping photos of her public display and shaming. Silently, with her eyes, she pleaded with him to let her in, but he grinned and shook his head, and she continued around.

Soon the police arrived as well as the press. A media helicopter hovered nearby. Yet no one made a move to end her ordeal. All of them simply joined the crowd and watched and jeered. A national event in the making.

And then it was over.

Gasping, Julie roused herself. It had only been a dream, one that had recurred nightly in the week since she'd reestablished contact with Jonah. In the dream, he's making her stand on the balcony as punishment for having left him in the lurch the way she had.

She understood that the dream was mainly her guilt manifesting itself. Still, it made her nervous. It was so real, and she knew Jonah wasn't happy with her. Thinking about it just now was enough to bring her close to tears. Looking back, she knew she should have just come right out and told him she needed time to think things through, but the longer she put it off, the harder it had become.

But the dream was also a symptom of her anticipation of her second meeting with Jonah, a meeting that was only moments away now. For the second time, she found herself in a parking lot, clutching the steering wheel of her car, summoning her nerve. The hotel entrance was nearby; she could see the door in her right side mirror. People came and went, some with luggage, some without.

She should join the ones entering. All she had to do was grab her overnight bag and go, yet she chose to wait. She was savoring the anticipation now, imagining how it was going to feel to do what so was so close to actually doing.

She pictured herself at the front desk, asking about Jonah. Had he checked in yet? Would they have to call him to announce a visitor? Or would they simply tell her which room to go to?

She wondered if the clerk would suspect why she was there. He'd probably have a good idea, but would he let on? Would he give her some kind of sign? A crooked smile? A knowing wink? No matter what, she knew she'd be blushing.

Her mind returned to reality, sitting in her car. Idly, she glanced around, watching the traffic. Jonah actually lived nearby; he'd said the hotel was within a mile of his home. But at that moment, he was not at home. He was right there, in a room in this very hotel, waiting for her.

He had set all the terms of this meeting, just as he'd said he would after their lunch meeting. He'd begun by making it clear that, this time, they would not meet half way between their respective cities. She was to come to him. Period. But not to his home. "Not yet," he'd said.

And unlike their first meeting at the restaurant, they would spend all their time together in private. That meant there would be no public humiliations in store for her this time, but somehow that fact didn't comfort her much. In fact, she relished the memory of being made to stand and display herself for the other diners. It had turned her on. And then, when he'd told her to unbutton her blouse with the waitress standing right there... Wow!

But it struck her as odd that he wanted to leave her original "no sex" condition as is. Here she was, she thought, about to go into a hotel to spend the night with a man - a man who could command her to do almost anything, as he was well aware by now - and he wasn't going to have sex with her.

Not that he didn't want to, she knew. Still, she wondered what exactly he had in store for her.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the dashboard clock. She had to get moving right now! Spurred to action, she bolted from the car, and headed for the hotel door, wheeling her bag behind her.

There was no one at the front desk when she got there, and no bell to ring either. She felt oddly exposed standing there, as if she wore a sign, "Meeting Lover." She blushed, and grew impatient. What if she were late again?

"Ahem!" she coughed loudly. "Hello? Anybody here?"

At last a woman appeared, bright, young, wearing the hotel chain's blazer. "Sorry," she said, offering no explanation. "Are you checking in?"

"No. Well, yes. I mean no." Having been served, Julie was suddenly unsure how to proceed. "Um, has Jonah Dove checked in yet?"

The girl typed on the computer, then looked up. "Yes, he has. May I ask your name, Miss?"

"Julie. Julie Smith."

The desk girl nodded, reached under the counter and pulled out an envelope. "He left this for you."

Julie snatched it away and opened it. There was a key card inside, and a note, hand printed in block letters. "Room 514. Knock first. Don't use the card until instructed."

Looking up at the clerk, Julie felt as if her cheeks were on fire. Shakily, she said, "Thanks," then strode toward the elevators.

When the doors opened on five, she got off and did a last minute check on her appearance using the mirror conveniently hanging on the wall across from the elevators. She turned from side to side and smoothed out her short white denim skirt and pink v-neck pullover. The boots she wore were at Jonah's request and she'd bought them just for this occasion - stylish black knee-highs with faux buckles at the tops and three inch heels.

Satisfied, she found the room and knocked.

"Who is it?" The voice inside was definitely Jonah's. This was it. Alone with him at last.

"It's Julie," she replied, thinking, who did you expect!

"So it is." His voice was closer suddenly, and she could see his eye peering through the peephole. "You look very nice."

"Thanks," she beamed.

"Are you ready for this, Julie?"

She started to say "yes" right away, but stopped herself. That wasn't completely true. "I- I think so."

"Good."

She saw the eye retreat and heard movement in the room. Then silence. A woman came down the hall, and Julie pretended to rummage through her purse until she was past.

What was he waiting he waiting for? She felt foolish just standing at the door like a pussy cat waiting to be let in.

"Um, Jonah?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to let me in?"

"You have a key card, Julie."

"I know, but you told me not to use it."

"That's right. Not until... when?"

"Until instruc- Oh! Jonah, sir, may I please come in?"

"Yes."

Grinning, she inserted the card and opened the door. He sat at the desk across the room, his chair turned to face the door. He was laughing softly, nodding. "Good girl," he said.

She felt her cheeks warm again and stared down at her feet. "Thanks."

"While you're there, put out the 'do not disturb' sign and throw the deadbolt."

"Yes, sir." She set her bag to the side and did as he told her. When she turned back to him, he was standing. He wore jeans and a light blue polo shirt.

"We're locked in together now, Julie."

"I know." She chewed her lower lip and glanced about at random.

"Come on in."

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

She nodded and took a couple of steps toward him. From the door she could see only one bed, but now a second bed came into view which had been obscured by the entry to the bathroom. When she saw the second bed, she stopped short.

"Oh my God!" she gasped.

On the second bed, he had arranged a huge assortment of bondage gear. It was all neatly displayed as if he were a salesman showing his wares. There were coils of rope in different colors: black, white, red, blue, green, and purple. There were handcuffs, and leg shackles. There were leather straps, gags of all sorts, chains, clamps, floggers...

She recognized all of it and had often imagined most of the items used on herself. It invariably excited her, but now... To be this close to the realization of those feverish fantasies...

"Are- are you going to use all of those on... me?" she asked, unable to quell the tremble in her voice.

"Hm. Maybe. Maybe not. That would be telling."

That's why I asked, she thought. Aloud, she said, "I mean, obviously, you can't use all of it at once. Probably not even in the time we have. Not even overnight, right?"

Jonah said nothing. His gaze hardened upon her. She could feel his dark eyes grip her, hold her. His power silenced her, stilled her. He stood and stepped close to her, slipping his hand under her hair, combing it with his fingers. She sighed at his touch and leaned her cheek into it. He caressed her flushed face for a moment, then his hand tightened on the back of her neck and he pulled her to him.

Already he'd touched her more than he had at their first meeting, and already she knew she wanted him to never stop touching her. Like his words on her computer screen, and his voice at the restaurant, his touch had an almost magical power over her.

She felt his control of her like a surge of raw wantonness. How could she possibly make it through the night and then leave him in the morning, without... feeling him inside her?

Their faces were mere inches apart. She licked her lips and left them parted, ready for his kiss. But when she looked into his eyes, she could see he was not going to kiss her. Still...

"Julie," he whispered. "Those things on the bed represent possibilities. I'm not going to tell you which I plan to use. In fact, I'm not going to TELL you anything. I'm just going to do it."

"Oh God," she panted, pressing herself against him. "Yes. Please! Just do it."

He released her and turned toward the bed. She followed his gaze as he scanned the collection of kinky toys. When he finally leaned down, she realized she'd been holding her breath.

He stood with something clasped in his fist. Somehow she missed what he'd just selected. He took her hand and led her to the center of the room, then stood behind her. She saw his hands reach around her head, a patch of blackness, and then the room went completely dark.

He'd selected a blindfold.

She stood, trembling, listening to him breathe behind her.

"You know," he said, "how disappointed I am with you."

She nodded.

"You left me in the dark, Julie."

"I-"

"Hush!"

There was a tinge of anger in his voice. It frightened her. She knew this was coming, but hadn't expected it first thing. In her dream, he punished her with public humiliation. But this... this was already worse.

She listened to him step away from her and sit. She pictured him in the desk chair where he was when she entered. He was watching her right now. She knew he was. His gaze was an almost palpable presence on her skin.

She waited for him to do something. Or tell her to do something. Anything. A sudden chill gripped her and she shivered. Her fingers clenched and relaxed repeatedly, playing with the hem of her skirt. What's he waiting for?

The television came on. She was standing there, his for the taking, and he turned on the TV! He channel-flipped for a minute then settled on a twenty-four hour news station. She knew he was just taunting her with his show of indifference, making her feel insignificant, leaving her in the dark. She was certain of it. It was so obvious.

But it was working too.

Incredibly, the fire in her cheeks burned hotter than when he had made her display herself in the restaurant. And her sense of helplessness was greater than if she were wrapped in all the bondage gear laid out on the bed.

The image of the display on the bed sprang to mind. She'd had only a glance at it, but now tried to conjure up details. All those straps and rope. How would it feel when he finally used them on her? She pressed her arms snug against her sides as she imagined the tightness of the restraints.

"Uh," she moaned aloud.

Or... What if he secured her in the harness? It was just like the one in her dream. She pictured how her breasts would look compressed between the two upper straps. And the one that went between her legs... she wondered how tight he would make it, and how agonizing would be its unyielding pressure? And then, there were the clamps, the whips...

"Oh God!" she sighed.

Julie realized her hands were in front of her, reaching on their own for the heat and wetness beneath her panties. Standing there, alone in her own dark world, thinking her own dark thoughts, she'd arrived at a state of reckless wantonness. She ached to be touched. She needed it... to be touched, used. Her hands clutched at her skirt, pulling it up. She tried to imagine it was him, stripping her, eager to get at her.

She was panting, moaning. She sobbed with shame and trepidation, knowing that he was watching her and wondering how long he'd let her continue.

Suddenly Jonah's hands were on her wrists. She hadn't even heard him move. She gasped, startled. Without saying a word, he pulled her arms away from her body, pressed her wrists together in front of her. He held them there for only a moment before separating them again and pushing her hands back to her sides. He smoothed her skirt down.

"Ohh," she whimpered. "Please..." Her voice trailed off as she heard him sigh and step away.

This time she heard his footsteps leading to the bed. He began rummaging around in his collection of kinky toys. At last, she thought. He's ready to really begin. He was looking for just the right item.

She could hear the tiny clink of buckles, the delicate rattle of thin chains. She could even hear the soft whoosh of straps and coils of rope being pulled across the bedspread.

Still she waited.

A zipper was pulled open. More rattles and clinks. Then the zipper closed again. She heard Jonah behind her. She caught her breath, ready, waiting. But he passed right by her. The television clicked off. Then she heard the door open and slam shut again.

The room fell silent. The only sound was her own ragged, worried breathing. What was going on? What had just happened?

Maybe this was some kind of test. He hadn't told her when, or if, she should remove the blindfold. Maybe he wasn't really gone, but standing quietly by the door, observing her still. Maybe he wanted to see how long she'd stay there, waiting for his command.

She strained to hear some sign of his presence, but the silence was simply too complete. He had definitely left the room.

She began to panic. The last thing he'd said to her was that she had left him in the dark. Was this his payback? Leaving her literally in the dark?

"Jonah?" she whispered, hoping he was still there despite the evidence of her own ears. "Are you there?"

She listened again to the stillness. Worry turned to panic. He couldn't have just left, she told herself. Not after all his planning. He'd told her where to meet him, and when... told her what to wear... left a note and key for her...

But the uncertainty was too much for her. She didn't care if it WAS a test! She tore the blindfold off and looked around. The bed was empty. His bags were gone. She was completely alone. Tears welled up and began streaming down her cheeks. How could he be so cruel? It wasn't fair!

She tried to shake off the sinking sense of despair. Maybe she could still catch him, persuade him to come back. She tossed the blindfold aside and dashed for the door.

In her haste, she fumbled with the handle, swearing at it. Finally she got it to turn. She flung the door open and screeched.

Stopped short as if she'd run into a wall, she stared at Jonah who stood casually across the hall. He checked his watch, then looked up at her and turned his grin into a frown.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said, sternly.

"I- You-" she gasped.

"I didn't say you could go."

"I know! But-"

"Turn yourself around and get back in there." His smile returned. "I'm not done with you yet."

Julie's panicky tears became tears of relief. "I- Yes. Yes, sir!" She turned, sniffling and wiping her face. She hated him. She loved him. She'd never felt happier.