Crazy

We'd broken up almost a year ago.

Well, broken up was a little misleading, since we had never been official or anything. We'd only gone on like six dates, which was how long it took me to figure out that she was completely batshit and I wanted nothing to do with her. And also how long it took her to decide that I was her soul mate, we were destined to be together, and if she tried hard enough she could convince me of that fact. Or if that didn't work, at least convince me to stay with her anyway.

Yeah, batshit.

I'd left her, dated other people, but she'd made it pretty hard for me over the last year. One thing after another, from fake pregnancies to fake suicide attempts, she kept pulling me back in, and in the process managed to sabotage every other relationship I had tried to start.

And yet here I was, sitting across the table from her now. She'd made a deal with me, that if she was "good", and left me alone for six whole weeks, no contact whatsoever, I'd meet her for drinks. And despite the fact that she was delusional and bi-polar as all hell, she was incredibly strong-willed. So she'd pulled it off, and here I was.

She was definitely still hot. Not pretty. Hot.

Pretty was for cute girls that you would want to take home to meet you parents, or take to the movies. She definitely wasn't that. No, she was hot. She was the kind of girl whose looks make guys just a little crazy. You wouldn't think about bringing her to meet your folks, but you might fantasize about fucking her in an elevator.

And yeah, she was definitely still hot. She was wearing makeup, but it was either better makeup or she had done a better job of putting it on than the last time I had seen her. It looked mostly natural, like makeup was supposed to look, rather than the over-applied layers she had worn back in the day. It hid her freckles, at least on her face, which was too bad. I liked her freckles. Although now I could see a lot more of them then last time... the dress she was wearing didn't exactly leave much to the imagination. It was green, which matched her eyes, and had spaghetti straps, and it was pretty low cut.

Her boobs weren't huge, maybe a C-cup, but they were perky, and they were almost popping out of the top of that dress. I figured there must be some kind of support built into the dress, because I didn't see any bra straps, and something was definitely pushing them together and up.

And the dress was short. Almost too short to be legal in public, but in this bar no one was likely to complain. It fit tight to her figure, too, which was just as good as I remembered. Slim waist, perfect round ass... an Irish beauty. Her dark red hair was up in a ponytail, the curls making it fluffier than she probably wished it was, but it worked.

When she walked in, she turned a lot of heads, and I actually felt a little surge of pride, or something, when she walked over to my table. Like "ha, motherfuckers, she's with me!" She wasn't, though. And I was definitely not sure I wanted to be seen with her in public. Who knows what kind of shit she might pull?

"So..." I said, after the silence started to make me uncomfortable. She hadn't said a word after she ordered her drink, a Buttery Nipple. Yuck. I took a sip from my beer, and looked at her.

"Good to see you again, Sam."

"Same here, I guess. What do you want, Kat?"

"Jeez, straight to the point. Maybe I just wanted to see you?"

"Well, I've got to be honest; I didn't really want to see you."

She looked hurt, but I knew it was just an act. "Sam...."

"Don't give me that shit. The last time I saw you, you threw a plate at my head. What do you want?"

She leaned over the table toward me, giving me a fabulous view of her cleavage, and said "I want you."

I laughed. "Whatever."

"Sam, I'm serious. I want to get back with you."

My smile vanished. "Look Kat, that's nice and all, but I don't want to get back together. I thought I made that pretty clear before."

"I know why you left. And I've changed. I really have. And I just thought that now, maybe..." She looked pretty vulnerable, all the sudden. And it even looked genuine. But I couldn't be sure.

"Look Kat, we had fun and all, but I really can't deal with being in a relationship with you. And that hasn't changed."

"You mean you can't be in a relationship with me because of my...the way I can be sometimes."

"I guess if you want to put it that way. Kat, you've got issues. And you've got to work that shit out, and I just can't be a part of it. Not again."

"Well, I don't want a relationship."

"What?"

"I said-"

"Yeah, I know what you said, what did you mean? Why am I here?"

She didn't say anything for a moment, as her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. Like she was trying to find the right words to say something difficult. Finally, as I was about to lose my patience, she blurted "I need your help."

I stared at her. "Explain."

"Look Sam, I know I have problems. And I am working on them. But I need you to help me through them. You're the only guy I trust. I know you, I know the real you, and I know that you won't hurt me. Not really. And I've got to work though some stuff, and the only way I can do that is with someone I trust."

I just blinked at her.

"Look, I know after what happened you don't trust me. That's okay, I understand. But I need your help. Just hear me out, please?"

I sighed. I knew I should say just say no, and walk out. I knew whatever it was she was trying to do it was actually a ruse, another way to try to get me back. Have I mentioned that she's crazy? And obsessed with me? And stalked me for nine of the last twelve months?

But what can I say. She looked scared. When the tears welled up in her eyes, I just couldn't say no. But damn if I was going to walk into this blindly. "Okay, maybe. Tell me what you want."

She took a gulp of her drink, which I knew had some serious alcohol in it, despite the fruity flavor. She looked like she was screwing up her courage.

"Look, I'm not going to bite. Just tell me."

She gulped another drink. "Okay, just give me a minute. This is hard."

I leaned back in my chair, and crossed my arms. How much of this was fake? Should I just leave? Then she said "Okay, I want to make a deal with you. You'll like it, believe me."

"I haven't believed you in a long time. But I'm listening." That was one thing about her. She may be sneaky as hell, but if she said something straight out, she would follow through. She liked making deals. Yeah, she would lawyer it, so if part of a deal was that she was going to buy you a coke, you had better make sure you said "a cold, unopened coke" or it would probably be warm and flat. But she would always obey the letter of her deals.

"First, let me tell you why I need your help. I want you to believe me."

"Okay."

"So you know how I have some problems. Like, I sometimes people think I don't always tell the truth, and all that?"

I nodded. Of course people thought that, because it was true. She rarely straight out lied, it was always a twist on the truth, or an omission. I thought it was interesting that she still wouldn't admit that she did it; she just said "people think". Still not taking responsibility.

"Well, I've been seeing a psychiatrist. And it's really helping. But the thing is, she says I have a hard time trusting people, and that I always try to manipulate the people around me. So I need to learn to let go of my control. I need to stop trying to be in charge."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

"Sam, I'm serious. I am really working on this."

"Okay, I believe you. Keep going." Well, I sort of believed her.

"The thing is, she says that it is all tied up with sex, that I try to manipulate people into doing what I want by using sex."

I nodded. Oh, I remembered that, for sure.

"And the other part is that it is all tied up with you. She says I deify you, and that I need to be able to see you as a person."

"Deify. Good word. I actually agree with your shrink. So what do you actually want?" It probably came out harsher than I meant, but I was used to being harsh with her. It was the only thing that had gotten her to leave me alone even for a little while over the last year.

Still, she heard my tone of voice, and I could see it got to her. She said "Look, this isn't easy for me, okay? I'm trying here."

She took a deep breath. "Okay, so here's what I want. I want to let you be in charge. For a while. I have to stop feeling like I can be in control of other people, and the only way to do that is to have you be in control of me."

I stared at her. "What?"

"I want you to be in control." I started to speak but she cut me off. "Before you say anything, just hear me out, okay?" I nodded.

"There are some terms. This can't affect my job, or my family. So it has to stay just between us. At least, no one I know can find out. And it can't affect my job, so I have to be able to go to work, and be able to do a good job. And I won't hurt anyone, or do anything really illegal. And you can't just tell me to go away." She swallowed again, and looked kind of scared. "But anything else, I'll do whatever you say."

I just looked at her for a moment. "Anything I say?"

"Yes." Her voice wavered a little.

My mind was reeling. This was too weird. "So let me get this straight. You want me to tell you what to do, and you'll do it?" She nodded. "Anything?" She nodded again.

"As long as it's not going to put me in jail, and it won't cost me my job, or affect my relationships with my family. And no one I know can find out. Oh, and it can't be anything permanent, like a tattoo."

I stared at her some more, my mind going a mile a minute. She was offering to essentially be my slave. If she meant it, and it seemed like she did. She always meant the letter of her deals. But I saw what she was doing. She felt like she was not able to keep control of herself, so she was giving the control to someone else. Someone she trusted, for some fucking reason. Me.

Well, the control and the responsibility. That was really what this was about, I was sure. She would no longer be responsible for her own actions. If I agreed to this deal, in her mind she wouldn't be responsible, I would be.

Fuck that.

"No."

"Wait, please just think about it for a minute!"

"Why the hell would I agree to that? That's ridiculous. You want me to sweep in and fix your life, after all the shit you've put me through? Please."

"Well, it's not just that I want you to fix everything..." She looked...shy for some reason. Weird.

"What are you talking about? I know how fucked up you are. I got to see that all close and personal. I tried to help, even, back in the day. And we both know how that turned out."

"Yeah, back then you were just giving me advice. This will be different."

"Yeah right. Different how?"

"I'll have to do it. You'll be in charge, not me. And if I break the deal, if I don't do what you say, I never contact you again. No phone calls, texts, emails, anything. Which is what you wanted, right?"

Huh. That might actually make a difference for her. For some reason she saw not being in contact with me as the worst thing in the world, so that would actually be a pretty big incentive to convince her to stick with something.

"Yeah, that's fine, but why go through all this for it? I mean, that's fine for an incentive for you to stick it out, even if it's hard, but why should I agree in the first place? I would be taking on a massive, massive mess, what, out of the goodness of my heart?"

"Well, you would be in charge of everything. I would do anything you say that's not against the rules."

Wait a minute. "You didn't say anything about sex."

She blushed a bright red. It spread from her face, down her neck, over her breasts, and disappeared under her dress. "No, I didn't."

Ah. So that was my incentive.

"So, you'll do what I say with sex too?"

"Yes."

"Anything?"

"Anything within the rules."

I looked around. "So if I said I want you to go fuck that guy, you would?"

She looked, gulped, and almost whispered "Yes." She looked back at me, her eyes wide, her blush deepening.

Whoa.

There had to be a catch. "Is there a time limit?"

"Well, I hadn't really thought about it. I was thinking that I would know when I was ready for it to be done."

"No, I don't think so. I see what you're doing. You know you fucked up this last year for me-"

She cut me off. "It started before that."

"Whatever. The point is, you think you can't control yourself, and you don't want to be responsible for your actions. And you believe that I will do a better job of running your life, for some reason. And if I don't, then I'm the one you blame for it, not yourself. And if you ever feel like it isn't working out, you just bail. Well, I am thinking about it, and I can't believe I am, but if I do this, I don't want you to be able to just quit whenever."

She opened her mouth, but this time I cut her off. "I'm not saying it has to be permanent. I just don't want you quitting at any moment. How about we re-up the deal once a week. Either of us can quit if we want. That way, if you want out you can get out, but I won't have you just bailing at any moment. You have to know this is serious."

She stared at me, eyes wide. Again, with the soft, scared voice "Okay. But that doesn't count as breaking the deal."

"Yeah, okay. Either of us can get out of it then, with no penalty. But any other time, I decide if you've broken the deal."

She hesitated.

"You're already asking me to take complete control of your life. I get to decide if you have broken the deal."

"But you want me to go away. You'll just say I've broken the deal, and I'll have to..." She trailed off.

"Look, I agreed to meet you here, didn't I? I am actually thinking about this craziness because there's a chance it might actually help you. If I wanted to just cut you off, I would."

She thought about it for a minute, and then said "I guess. Okay."

"I want this in writing." She nodded. I stared at her for another tense moment. I felt like there was a trap buried here somewhere, but I was not sure. Would I really be okay with taking responsibility for her life?

Oi. Maybe.

"And after a week, if either of us wants out, we can get out?" She nodded again.

Well. It had been a shit year for me, and no small part of that was her fault. I figured she would have some crazy scheme to still be in control, and she might not even know that she did. But I actually found myself looking forward to the challenge.

"Alright, I'll agree. But first, I want it in writing. We meet back here tomorrow, same time, and you have a written contract, and we'll do this. But I'll agree on a temporary basis, only for tonight. Until midnight. A trial run, to see if you're serious. Deal?"

Her eyes were huge. Her voice trembled a little as she said "Deal."

"Starting now."

I stuck out my hand for her to shake. She took it and said "Starting now."

Well, I was in for it now.

Okay, now was the time to test her resolve. Shake her up a little, see if I could find the ulterior motive I was sure she had. For a moment, I considered telling her to do something public, like blow me under the table, but I had already said we would meet here tomorrow night, and I kind of liked this place. I didn't want to get banned.

Well, if she wanted me to boss her around, I better act the part.

"Okay, pay for our drinks, we're leaving."

She jumped a little, surprised by my harsher tone, but she moved quickly to pull some cash out of her purse. I felt a little weird about letting her pay, because I usually pay for stuff with girls, but I figured this would drive home the "I'm in charge" thing. I wanted this to be as stark as I could, to try to call her bluff. If she was bluffing.

She laid the money on the table and started to get up, but I said "Wait. Finish your drink." She downed it in two swallows.

I checked my watch. It was nine thirty, so I had about two and a half hours before the midnight deadline. Time enough to call her bluff. On the other hand, I had to work in the morning, and I had not said anything about staying with her until midnight. Maybe that would be a way to show her what it would be like to obey me when I was not there. And I could see if she really would.

"Go to the bathroom, take off your panties, put them in your purse, and come back out here."

She didn't say anything, just got up and walked toward the bathroom. I watched her walk, her tight round ass swaying as her medium-high heels made her walk into something more like a prance. Her dress really was short, barely covering the globes of her ass. She would have to be paying attention as she moved around to keep from flashing her underwear. And in a moment, to keep from flashing her pussy.

I took the time while she was in the bathroom to think. She had worn that dress on purpose. A year ago, she probably hadn't even owned something like that. She was trying to entice me, turn me on so I would take the bait offered by this deal. And it was definitely working. I was horny as hell. Whatever she said about trying to change, she was definitely doing what she had before, using sex to try to manipulate me. And damn if it wasn't working.

But maybe I could turn the tables on her. Teach her that using sex to get me to do what she wanted wasn't going to work. In fact, maybe this whole plan actually would be good for her. I doubted her shrink would like it, but whatever. Maybe having someone else completely in charge of her would be like going cold turkey would be for a smoker. Hard, but maybe effective. And I knew she would try to manipulate me anyway, and if I could call her on it, and make her do something else... well, maybe that would be like a nicotine patch.

She walked back from the bathroom more carefully than she had walked toward it, and tugged down on the hem of her dress once as she walked. She definitely looked uncomfortable.

Good.

I walked out of the restaurant, not waiting to see if she followed.

*****

I walked toward the parking garage. The restaurant was in a little open air mall-type area, with a bunch of shops and restaurants on the ground level and offices in the upper floors. There was a parking garage that served the whole thing, which was where I had parked. It had one elevator bank that was close to the shops and offices, and another at the far end, for some reason. It had always seemed like a waste to me, because it was so out of the way, but tonight I was happy they had put it there. At this time of night, I knew no one would be using it.

Remember how I said she was the kind of girl you would fantasize about fucking in an elevator?

Yeah.

I knew she was following, because I could hear her heels clicking on the concrete. I was walking pretty fast, and she was keeping up, so it could not have been comfortable in those shoes.

Good. I wanted her a little off-kilter.

I walked to the closest elevator bank, the busier one. Not busy, exactly, at this time on a weeknight, but busier. There was no one in the lobby. I punched the call button, and one of the elevators opened.

The heels clicked into the lobby.

I stepped into the elevator, and held the door as she walked in. She looked upset, and out of breath. Still hot though.

She didn't say anything, just looked at me angrily. I let the door close, and hit the button for the top floor. The seventh.

I looked back at her, and said "Blow me."

"What?" She looked a little angrier, and maybe a little hurt. "But you said-"

I cut her off. "Kneel in front of me, unzip my jeans, stick my dick in your mouth, and blow me."

She looked surprised, but she did what I said, kneeling awkwardly in front of me and setting her purse on the floor. She unzipped my pants, a little awkwardly, and slipped her hand inside, fishing for my cock. I was already half-hard, so it wasn't exactly hard to find, but she had a little trouble getting it out of the front flap of my underwear.