When I first met her online she told me that her name was Adrienne, but then as time wore on and we got to know each other she told me that her name was really Julie. I read the erotic stories she would post online and I became one of her greatest fans. Her stories always seemed to revolve around rape fantasies that had the heroine submitting to her erstwhile lover in each of the ribald vignettes. Julie and I shared a lengthy correspondence in which stories were shared and even co-authored. The results of the co-authored stories became some of the most popular stories on the Web due to their disturbingly androgynous perspective. I considered Julie to be a good friend, although a strange friend who was just the anonymous author of some friendly notes on my email. I guess what turned a corner for me was when she sent me The Picture.
I can't put my finger on exactly what it was that sent me over the edge. Perhaps it was just the combination of the depth of our relationship and then the hauntingly beautiful picture she sent to me. In The Picture she revealed herself to be not a supermodel, but a woman of a deeply textured and complex beauty, unlike any I had seen before or since. Her short dark hair framed a delicate face of the most alabaster skin jeweled with the most expressive and sapphire-blue eyes. Like the Mona Lisa, Julie also had a unique and captivating expression that conveyed a certain naivete while, paradoxically, also betraying a worldliness that betrayed a hungry sexuality.
It was only three days later when my obsession for the woman behind The Picture yielded an address. Frantically, I called in to work and took a leave for the next week for a family emergency. Then I packed up the car and left. I drove thirty-four hours before I finally found her house in a far-off town. I rented a room at a nice motel and cleaned up before pursuing my quarry. I had thought about just knocking on her door and introducing myself, but that would be sort of an anticlimax to our relationship that had produced so much mayhem in our literary collaborations. No, it had to be this way or not at all. Small towns are so much fun. After introducing myself around town as Julies' estranged brother-in-law I had found out from the helpful folks that Julie lived alone, had never married in her twenty-eight years, her parents had died and left her the old Victorian house she lived in, and she taught English at the local high school. Good enough.
Spring break had conveniently started and I decided that a Friday night was as good a time as any to get acquainted with my obsession. I decided to use one of my tried and true tricks and came to her door just after eight with a bouquet of roses. I rang the bell and she promptly answered.
"Hi...Roses? Who would send me roses?"
"I don't know ma'am, I'm just the delivery boy. They do smell great though..."
I handed the roses to her and she buried her face in them and inhaled a deep draught of their intoxicating scent. Their highly intoxicating scent. The ether I had sprayed the roses with had an immediate effect and I found myself scrambling to catch her before she fell to the floor.
The next hour was equally intoxicating to me as I carried her off to her bedroom and prepared for the evening. I had brought along a few toys which I now put to good use.
My efforts had me rather tired so I sat back and admired my handiwork: Julie was now securely tied to her own bed, dressed in a flimsy dressing gown I had found in her closet (dressing her in it is another whole story!), and neatly blindfolded and gagged. She was all dressed up and I was ready to go!
Her body writhed against the restraints as she came out of the fog of the ether. I brazenly walked over and sat next to her on the bed and ran my fingers through her hair, which had an almost immediate calming effect on her.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Nothing's going to happen to you that you haven't wanted for a long time anyway."
She screamed into the gag.
I have to admit that I was having some second thoughts about this. Did I really want to introduce myself this way? She didn't seem to be enjoying this in quite the way I thought she would. Maybe I should go. I could call the fire department from a phone booth and they could come get her free.
Hmmm.
