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I COMMAND YOU
By
Megan Ziese
© copyright by Megan Ziese, Feb. 2008
Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, Feb. 2008
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
Chapter One
YOUR DESIRES WILL EITHER SET YOU FREE OR CONSUME YOU.
Sherry mulled over the cryptic sentence on the card one last time before she got ready to leave the office for the day. She traced the outline of it with her fingers, letting them linger over the printed words. It was a simple card, discreet in nature. At first glance it appeared to be just like the hundred other off-white ordinary business cards she had accumulated over the years in her personal organizer, except there was one integral difference. This card had absolutely nothing to do with work and, in fact, gave her insider access to a society she had never known existed, let alone heard of, until today.
If the circumstances of her life had been different, she might never have known of its existence at all. She might never have discovered that deep within her hometown of Atlanta, and other large cities like it, there were dark and mysterious activities underground, that beneath the hum-drum bustle exterior there thrived an entirely different nightlife from the one that most citizens enjoyed.
An anticipatory wave of gooseflesh snaked down Sherry’s back beneath the cream colored silk blouse of her tailored suit as she cautiously slipped the non-assuming card into a small pocket in her purse. She snapped the purse closed and swallowed past a nervous knot that had suddenly formed in her now dry throat, biting her lower lip subconsciously. As the full implications of what the card represented struck her, she felt her stomach swim, but she couldn’t quite convince herself that it was naïve innocence that was the culprit.
When her best and only friend Beth had relived her most recent exhilarating conquest on their lunch break earlier, Sherry had simply sat down and politely put on her most sincere listening face. In all actuality, she had been internalizing her feelings. She didn’t mean to half-heartedly pay attention, but that was all she had to offer at the time being. She was happy that her dear friend was not the least bit troubled with inhibitions and was enjoying life. Beth was truly a good person and well-deserving of happiness wherever she found it. But a small part of her couldn’t help envying the wild abandon her friend showed when it came to her love life. Sure there was quite a difference in age between the two of them, but even when she had been Beth’s age, she had never shown such boldness in the pursuit of her own sexual gratification. She had always been too focused on making the grade, getting ahead at college until graduation, and then she had always been trying to get ahead at work, always a breath away from that big promotion they had been stringing her along with for years.
When it came right down to it, though, Sherry couldn’t lay the blame for her own unrest anywhere but at her own feet. She had let this happen, in fact, encouraged it. No one made her work weekends or told her not to date. She had just let her unrelenting desire for excellence in her career set her adrift in a vast sea of loneliness. And, until yesterday, her thirty-fifth birthday, it had all gone on seemingly unnoticed. She was afraid to admit that she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had sex. That one thought brought all the emotional turmoil of her birthday back with a vengeance. She swallowed hard past a lump of emotion that suddenly made it difficult to breathe.
Dutifully taking one more look around her office to make sure that everything was ready for work on Monday, Sherry felt satisfied that she had not neglected any tasks and turned off the monitor on her computer before pushing in her keyboard at her desk and getting up to leave.
After today, she would forever look at her computer in a wholly different light. She had never used it for anything except for work, had never even thought about using it for personal reasons . . . until now. But that was the thing about catalysts . . . they made shit happen. She had emailed her profile, including all of her important personal and medical information that Beth had informed her was necessary to process her ‘membership’, to the email address typed in small letters on the back of the card. In only a few hours she had received a response. It was unlike anything she could have anticipated. She felt her cheeks blush and a tingling warmth creep through her sex as she recalled the details of the email she had received.
Sherry. I command you to meet me at the diner on the corner of 4th and Main. Wear only an ankle-length coat and nothing else. Sit at booth three at 7:00 and wait for me.
Sherry picked up the pace as she made her way to her small car in the company parking garage. She would have to hurry home to get freshened up and to be able to get there before 7:00. She smiled as she thought about how her supervisor would be thoroughly surprised not to see her working diligently this weekend, but she had put in her dues. She deserved to have a little fun, if for only one night.
After battling rush hour traffic for an hour, Sherry parked in front of her small apartment and quickly went in. She had less than two hours to get ready. That sounded like a lot of time at first, but as the time drew closer to her rendezvous, and she became more and more anxious, the less she got accomplished. She did, however, manage get in a great shower, making sure to shave everything bald. That alone had her feeling like an entirely different person.
When she finally exited the shower and made her way into her bedroom to towel off, she heard the pitter-patter of rain on her window. She listened to the soothing sound as it ensued. She had always loved the rain. There was something very comforting about it. She supposed that it was something that had been passed down because her mother had confessed of a similar affection for the element and her grandfather before her. It stood to reason that she would feel such a connection to it.
Of course, today it was rather convenient as well. She wouldn’t stand out like a sore thumb in her long rain coat at the diner if other people were bundled up against the weather. She wondered briefly if the man who had emailed her had known about the possibility of rain. Could he have planned their rendezvous around it? She didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as she pulled her light tan raincoat from her closet and pushed her arms into it, noticing that the large red digital numbers on her clock read 6:40. She would have to leave to make it by 7:00. Feeling that warm tingling of anticipation thrum through her core again now that the time to go through with this plan was so near, she made haste to her front door, taking one last look in the mirror by her door before grabbing her keys off of the key ring and heading for the car.
Fifteen minutes later, Sherry had managed to not break any speed limits or her neck as she reached the parking lot of Bingham’s Diner. She took a moment to steady herself, holding the steering wheel with both hands as she took a few deep calming breaths. “You can do this,” she assured herself. She closed her eyes, trying to will her heart beat to slow down. She didn’t want to make a complete fool of herself. She was a grown woman for god’s sake. She could handle a fling. If men could do it and not blink an eye, she could do it. There was nothing to it. Both parties were consenting, no strings attached. What was there to worry about? She licked her lips and bit her lower lip, trying to see through the rain into the diner. There weren’t a whole lot of cars, and there were less people inside. She supposed that was a good thing. Less people to watch her make a complete ass of herself while she tried to talk to someone she didn’t know who she planned to have sex with. Her stomach flip-flopped again at that thought, but the only thing she could do to get over the feeling was go through with it or leave, and she damn sure wasn’t going to leave. She wasn’t a quitter. She had set out to do something, and she was damn well going to finish it, despite the fact that she was on entirely new ground here.
And fighting panic because the unknown was almost as scary as it was exciting!
She took the keys out of the ignition and pulled the hood of her raincoat around her straight blonde hair, making sure as much of it was tucked inside as possible. She checked the buttons of her coat, hoping to god none of them came undone as she tried to dash inside. She looked nervously down at her lap, at the last button which only came to her hip, but she felt certain that there was enough material that it wouldn’t gape as she ran and expose her. Opening her car door, she jumped out and slammed the door, making a quick walk to the door of the diner only a few feet away.
Sherry jumped as the bell at the top of the door announced her arrival.
The whiny music of a country song filled her ears, jangling her nerves, and making her feel even more out of her element.
“Hello,” Mr. Bingham, she deduced from his nametag, said from behind the counter, waiving a metal spatula covered with grease at her as he smiled at her pleasantly.
Sherry nodded at him politely, slightly embarrassed that she was acting so skittish, but perhaps no one had noticed? She scanned her legs to make sure nothing was exposed. Seeing that she was fine in that department, she looked around for table numbers. She followed the booths in descending order until she found table number three. It was in the back of the diner, as far away from the kitchen area and the other couple occupying the diner by the front door as she could get and the discovery soothed her frazzled nerves a little. At least it would be private. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so awkward when she didn’t have to worry about being observed?
She sat down and scooted into the horse shoe shaped booth, smoothing the floor length maroon table cloth once she had settled. She had passed the diner many times but had never actually come inside. She was always too busy to eat at a sit down place. Her meals consisted of things in cups or salad boxes, an apple at her desk or a meal bar while she typed.
She’d barely settled and looked around when the owner/cook came into view from around the bend in the diner and walked up to her table.
“What can I get for you today miss? Something to drink? Maybe a hot cup of coffee to warm you up?”
“No, thanks. I’m waiting for someone. We’ll order after he gets here.”
She didn’t know if they’d order or not, she realized, but she didn’t want the man hovering over her disapprovingly for using his place of business as nothing more than a rendezvous. The thought made her regret that she hadn’t at least ordered coffee, but she dismissed it. Once her ‘date’ arrived, they’d probably order something and if not, they’d leave, and she needn’t face the man’s disapproval anyway.
Nodding at her dismissal, Mr. Bingham turned and disappeared into the front of the diner again. Her doubts swarmed back when he’d left, her stomach churning with a combination of anticipation and nerves. Staring out the plate glass window at the rain, she sat rubbing her hands up and down her arms a little absently, hoping to instill a little warmth through the material of her raincoat. The diner wasn’t cold, but the rain had been, and she couldn’t take off her coat because she didn’t have anything else.
She couldn’t get her mind off of her nakedness either—the coat did nothing to make her feel dressed, which was odd considering it covered her completely. She wasn’t exposed. She couldn’t imagine why she felt so exposed unless it was just the fact that the coat was outer wear and she was used to being fully dressed beneath it. After a little thought, she decided the fact that she’d shaved her muff probably had a lot to do with her feeling of nakedness and the currents of sexual excitement swirling through her. Her sex felt so very, very naked without the hair and so sensitive!
She felt excruciatingly sensitive all over, she realized. No wonder she felt aroused. It wasn’t just that she was anticipating meeting someone. It wasn’t merely the fact that she’d done something so uncharacteristically brazen by leaving the house in nothing but a raincoat. The stiff material next to her bare skin abraded it just enough to arouse an acute awareness of her body that she never had in her street clothes. Every breath she took, every movement, however slight, created waves of sharp awareness. Her nipples had puckered almost the moment she’d donned the coat and had stayed that way, becoming more sensitive with the engorgement of blood that continued to pulse in the tips. The brush of the stiff fabric along her bare arms and legs and torso and breasts was almost like a caress. The light dusting of down all over her body that served as sensors remained on full alert, keeping every nerve ending poised for more stimulation.
It was a paradox that the opposite was true of her sex. Denuded of any hair at all, ‘it’ should have been less ‘aware’, particularly when the damned coat didn’t even brush her there, and yet it seemed to have taken on a life of its own apart from the mind that should have commanded it, dominating her awareness even beyond the streams of sensation that wafted through her from her nipples every time the material brushed her there.
The acute awareness became more of an irritant the longer she sat waiting—moments stretching into minutes that felt like hours. Just when Sherry was beginning to think that this had all been a complete waste of time and a terribly bad idea, she felt a hand settle on her knee beneath the table cloth. She squealed and jumped in her seat at the same time.
“I command you to spread your legs.”
Just as she realized who the voice obviously belonged to, Mr. Bingham hurried to her table. “Is everything alright Miss?”
Sherry blushed crimson, debating whether she should get up and leave. The urge was so strong that for several moments she considered doing just that, but a moment of insanity took control of her. “Yes, I’m sorry. I thought I saw a spider. . . . I don’t have very good eyesight. It was nothing. Sorry about that.”
Mr. Bingham didn’t look quite convinced. After giving her a strange look, though, he turned and left again.
Sherry watched his departure with an odd sense of doom—as if watching the last lifeboat drift beyond reach. The sense of adventure had abandoned her abruptly. All she could think about was how very strange it was that the man had been lying in wait for her beneath the table.
Or had he slipped under unnoticed while she was staring out the window in zombie land, too attuned to the unaccustomed sparks and jolts of her nakedness to really be aware of anything else?
Had he been staring at her sex the whole time? Or was it too dark under there to see?
The thought that he might have made her sex tingle with reawakened excitement.
As soon as the man had gone, Sherry picked up a menu that was lying on the table and held it up in front of her face, hiding her expression in case anyone else came up or looked her way, and then she addressed the man under the table, “Who are you, and what the hell are you doing under the table?”
There was a mixture of amusement and irritation in his voice when he responded. “You were commanded to appear for a fantasy encounter. The rule is that you present yourself and accept whatever happens next—without question.” She felt his hand return to her knee. A second hand settled on her other knee, applying pressure.
The doubts she’d had before swarmed over her and she resisted, briefly, his demand that she open her legs before reluctantly allowing him to push her legs wider. She’d thought they would simply meet here and then go some place private to act out their ‘fantasy’ encounter! Maybe even her car, or his—she didn’t know what she’d expected, but it dawned on her forcefully that she shouldn’t have had any preconceived expectations. Beth had made it clear that that was the part she found most exhilarating, not just sex with a stranger, but the adventure of never knowing what to expect at all!
The absurdity of her situation didn’t escape her nor did the outrageousness of allowing an unknown man to fondle her intimately in a public place, but there was certainly no doubt that that was his intention. The moment he’d pushed her legs open, he thrust the edges of her raincoat aside, slipping hot, rough hands along her bare thighs.
She stifled another scream as she felt the stroke of his thumbs along the outer lips of her sex. Gooseflesh rippled all over her body. Her eyes widened, the images on the menu she was holding in front of her face blurring as she focused inwardly on the image her mind created. She couldn’t believe she was letting a complete stranger do this to her! In public no less! She didn’t even know what he looked like!
She should object, she thought wildly, push him away, get up, run for her car!
She didn’t do any of those things, though, paralyzed by the horror of her situation and at the same time frozen by the sudden certainty that she knew what he intended to do as he slipped his hands around to her buttocks and tugged her toward the edge of the seat.
He pushed her legs wider still once he had her positioned, exposing her nether lips to him completely. His hands stroked her thighs, and he began to rain kisses where his hands explored. Her belly clenched in hopefulness as she felt the path he was blazing with his lips toward her sex.
The discovery that her mouth had gone desert dry finally penetrated her consciousness and she realized she’d begun to pant for breath and he hadn’t even reached his goal yet. She bit her lip to keep from making any noise when she felt his thumbs along her nether lips again, parting them, and then the first hot, rough stroke of his tongue along her cleft, parting the inner petals as he stroked her from her sex up to the juncture of her nether lips. The chill bumps that raced over her that time covered even her scalp, making the hair prickle. Swallowing against a knot that might have been her heart lodged in her throat, she braced her hands that were clutching the menu in a now frantic grip on the table and closed her eyes, opening herself up to the feelings this stranger was provoking in her. In the dark, there was only feeling, the feel of his hot skin against her cooler skin, the feel of her pussy growing wet beneath his administrations.
She sucked in a quick breath as she felt the hot wet lap of his tongue lap on her clitoris. It took everything she had not to jump completely away from him. She had desperately hoped that he would touch her there, and it still sent a jolt through her when he did. She’d forgotten just how good it felt to have a hot mouth on her there, to feel the faint abrasion of a stroking tongue. She felt like a woman starved, starved of attention, and now he was filling her with desire so intense she wasn’t certain she couldn’t handle it.
Abruptly keenly aware of her surroundings again, afraid any sound she made might be heard above the music playing on the jukebox, she trapped a moan in her throat as his tongue lathed her clitoris in small circles before he brought his lips to the skin and sucked it gently with his mouth. Her insides quaked with need, and she could feel her pussy becoming more and more damp with need, her channel weeping moisture in response to him.
Without realizing it, she slipped lower in the seat, spread her legs wider and began to thrust her hips to meet his wet kisses, moving up to meet the next wave of hot wet texture as he alternated between suckling at her clit and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. She could feel the heat building inside of her, intense and all-consuming, could feel herself rising toward climax despite the distraction of her surroundings.
Maybe even because of the restrictions it placed on her. The need to remain quiet, to try to present the appearance that nothing at all was happening forced her to keep everything tightly inside and seemed to intensify the experience almost beyond bearing.
As if sensing how close she was to completely losing control, he pressed his mouth firmly against her clitoris and nether lips, running his hands over her hips and under her ass to cup it and slide her a little further down in the booth so that he could pleasure her easier. He licked and nibbled, suckled and teased, panting hot breaths on the lips of her sex, lapping her juices as she quivered beneath him, perilously near release.
Sherry thought she would go mad with the need to let go and the fear that, in doing so, she would give them away. He caressed her until she thought she could stand it no longer, her nether lips hot and throbbing with need, her belly cramping with her efforts to keep from coming.
“Please,” she whispered, “I want . . . .”
He stopped, his hands now on her widespread thighs. “Yes?” he whispered in a husky voice.
Sherry fumbled for the words. She knew what she wanted, what she needed. She just didn’t know if she could say it. But was it so hard, after all? It wasn’t as if she had to look him in the eye.
“I want more. I need penetr . . . .”
She didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence. He pressed his face against her pussy again, and this time thrust his tongue inside of her hot core. She gasped out loud at the sensations rocking through her, her legs shaking with her need, her climax building until she thought she would go over the edge with just his tongue leading the way.
He didn’t disappoint her. He slipped one finger inside of her, thrusting in and out, setting a rhythm that she met thrust for thrust. After a moment, he slid another finger inside and began to suckle her clitoris again, moaning low in his throat, thrusting harder and faster, pumping into her, fucking her senseless with his hot fingers, her juices bathing him.
The music thumping on the jukebox faded. She lost touch with the world around her as her body consumed her with its needs, drew her into a dark world of fire where nothing else existed but the need to attain the release she’d been struggling to fight. Mindlessly, she thrust her hips against his fingers, striving to meet his rhythm, and then she climaxed. She clamped her jaws tightly together, trying to stifle it, but a soft whimper escaped her lips as the pleasure cascaded over her, his fingers continuing to thrust deep into her channel, his expert tongue lapping at her woman’s nub until she thought she would have to beg him to stop.
And then, he did stop.
Sherry let out a long sigh of relief, struggling to compose herself as the climax abated and her body slowly returned to normal. The moment her pulse began to slow, her brain kicked into gear again and her senses expanded abruptly in a quick search to determine if they’d been discovered. Vaguely relieved when she didn’t notice anything that indicated an awareness of the other occupants of what had just happened at table three, she relaxed fractionally. She still didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. Whoever he was, he had definitely satisfied her. But now that the passion was spent, she felt excruciatingly awkward.
What did someone do in a situation like this? What did you say?
Her cheeks and ears began to darken as a blush crept upon her. She set her menu down with as much normalcy as she could manage. Still uncertain of what she should say or what to do, she cleared her throat, hoping that might score a reaction from the stranger beneath the table.
“I command you to go home.”
That was it, she thought in bewilderment, resisting the urge to duck down and fling the tablecloth out of the way to give him a piece of her mind? He gives me a mind-shattering orgasm and then tells me to leave? Just like that?
What about him? Had he gotten off?
Heat flooded her at the thought that he had been masturbating while he serviced her, but she didn’t even know if he could’ve managed it. She couldn’t remember anything except what he’d done to her and she discovered she didn’t really want to know.
She didn’t understand, but she wasn’t about to wait around and debate her debacle in the diner. With as much dignity as she could muster, she covered her legs back up with her raincoat and slid out of the booth. She took a look down at herself when she stood up, making sure she was decently covered and that her legs were steady enough to carry her out before she left the diner and found the sanctity of her car.
The rain had stopped. Sherry didn’t notice though. Thoughts were buzzing through her mind like an angry hive of bees. Her heart beat still had not returned to normal when she put the key in the ignition. What had she done, she thought, a little blank with shock?
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