Cookies - 3WW

“Sit, please.” His beautiful, angelic face, worthy of Michelangelo, held a smile.

I sat in the comfortable chair he indicated. I had waited so long for this moment, for the chance to prove to him that I was more than eager, more than willing to learn.

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Thank you for your kind letters.” I said, following him with my eyes. “I wasn’t sure what to bring-“

“It’s okay.” He said. He came over and knelt in front of me, reaching for my hands. “You were wise not to tell anyone.”

His eyes searched mine, for what I didn’t know.

My fingers tightened against his. I nodded.

“I promised. Just like I said I would.”

“Good.” He gave my hands a final squeeze before standing up. “Let us begin.”

I smoothed my hands along my thighs, making sure my skirt was in place. He stood up, his face unreadable. I licked my lips and gave him a hesitant smile.

He leaned over me, his green eyes locked on mine. His mouth-watering scent, warm and heady, tugged at my senses. I breathed in deeply, savoring it.

His unspoken words filled my head, as clear as if he’d said them aloud.

This is not a figment of your imagination. Try and relax.

Something silvery swirled in their depths, so swift and alluring that for a moment I was paralyzed. I blinked, startled.

Before I could ask anything, his voice dropped lower.

“Close your eyes.” His warm breath caressed my ear. “Don’t open them until I say so.” His fingers brushed against my eyelids. I swallowed nervously and waited.

I strained to hear what he was doing. The temptation to open them was nearly irresistible but I didn’t want to disobey for fear of his disappointment.

I could feel him moving around me, the heat of his presence invading my personal space and I shifted uncomfortably.

I didn’t like feeling so vulnerable.

His voice, when it came, was deceptively soft and soothing.

“I know you feel inclined to recoil from my touch due to the circumstances but I must ask you to be still.”

That was the only warning I received before something cool and moist, laved my face, from chin to forehead, leaving a dank smear of wetness. I struggled to keep my eyes shut but I couldn’t stop my hands from frantically swiping my mouth.

Revulsion rose in my throat and a sob escaped my lips. I squeezed my eyes tighter but the telltale tears seeped through and raced down my cheeks. My mouth fell open, my breathing became erratic and icy hot fear flooded my veins.

What was he doing?

The game was supposed to be simple.

We were to become entangled in role-play, something I had wanted to try for years but was too afraid to. When he’d answered the first letter, I was pleasantly surprised. We wrote back and forth, each letter becoming more and more personal. Before long, I knew he was The One. Over the last year, I made arrangements and sold off what I didn’t need. I wanted to be near him, near his addictive persona.

Now he changed the rules and I was feeling helpless.

I was quietly sobbing at this point, the unbearable tension getting to me. I knew he was still close, a movement by my head lifted strands of my hair, the tingling warmth racing up my neck as his moist breath coasted along my skin.

A faint scent of…vanilla cookies…hit my nostrils and I grabbed onto that like a drowning person would a life raft.

I inhaled deeply, hoping to ease the fear with a sense of home. How long I sat in my own personal darkness, I couldn’t tell.

The sound of his movements began to fade and I tilted my head to every sound I heard, trying to track him.

He laughed heartily, I presume at my feeble attempts to find him, then whispered.

“Open your eyes.”

I opened them immediately, and looked around.

The single room was empty. I scrambled out of my chair to my feet and spun around but I was alone. I rushed to the door and flung it open, looking up and down the hallway but didn’t see him. The one exit, the elevator, was still sitting there, its old fashioned gates gleaming in the dim light.

Where did he go?

I closed the door and went back towards the chair, where my confusion quickly turned to terror. 

On the seat was a plate of freshly baked vanilla cookies with a note tucked under it. I cried out and whirled around again, my brain screaming: Where did the cookies come from? Where is he? What’s going on??

Tears flooded my face and I frantically wiped at them. I sobbed and rubbed the back of my hand over my mouth.

I stared at it, the way it was teasing me from under the plate. I didn’t want to read the letter but I knew the only way to get an answer was to read what he had to say.

With trembling fingers, I pulled the note out, his scent drifting up from the delicate parchment. I read the cursive handwriting and felt myself pale, my skin becoming cold and clammy.

My heart jumped into my throat, and pounded so hard I nearly choked. The mind-numbing tension, the feeling of utter helplessness assaulted me again and again. I sank to the armchair and bent over trying to calm down. The dry heaves were relentless. I stuffed a cookie in my mouth and frantically chewed. I ate another and then another until my stomach settled. As I broke off another bite I re-read the note.

Lesson 1 is complete.

Until next time…

In spite of the sick feeling I had, the tears, the reservations about the path that I was on and the feeling of being out of my depths, I couldn’t help but to smile. 

I was going to see him again!

© copyright 2011 by Ren Thompson October 26, 2011

3 Word Wednesday: Figment, Inclined and Vulnerable.