The Truest Control Ch. 01

It is not difficult to identify a lonely man. You can identify him by his posture, his body language, the way he carries himself, the way he moves, and by his facial expression. It certainly was not difficult for Elizabeth to identify a lonely man, given that she prided herself on being a good judge of personality. She had studied psychology, and was adept at identifying people's hidden thoughts and feelings. So it didn't take much for her to decide to talk to Roger when she saw him sitting on a park bench one day. Everything about him communicated a man who needed to be talked to, and one look at him convinced her that she would be the right person for the task.

"Hi," she said simply. She liked to start conversations by just saying this. It initiated a conversation, but required the other person to provide something of substance in order to reveal more of themselves. She was hoping should could find out more about this man before she revealed too much of herself.

"Hi," he said back, in the same simple way. He hadn't been expecting anyone to talk to him, and he certainly hadn't been expecting someone like her to talk to him. She was a young woman around her mid-20s, of medium height and build, with very long hair, and a sweet smile that seemed inviting. She stood there looking back at him, and for a moment, he felt a bit embarrassed, as if he should say something but had no idea what to say. Finally, he said, reflexively, "How are you?"

"I'm good, and you?" she said, still maintaining that same soft smile.

"I'm all right," he said. "Can I help you with something?" This was not the sort of question you normally ask in a friendly setting when you want to be friends with someone, but Roger was just a bit unnerved by the way the woman was staring at him now, and so he reacted in a way that was somewhat distant, because he was trying to maintain control of the situation and wanted to understand what was going on.

"I just wanted to help you feel better," Elizabeth said gently. "You looked so sad and lonely. I thought you could use some cheering up. If you want to talk to someone, I'm glad to talk."

"I'm glad to talk, too," Roger said, speaking slowly because he was trying to let his thoughts get ahead of his words. What was he supposed to say to a woman like this in a situation like this? He had never just met someone out of the blue like this, and not knowing anything about the woman, it was difficult to know what to say to her. "Would you like to sit down?" he offered.

"Gladly, thank you," she said, and sat down next to Roger, somewhat closer than would be usual for friends who had just met each other.

"I'm Roger," he said, not having anything else to talk about.

"I'm Elizabeth," she said. "You will call me Liz."

"I will?" he asked, confused. This was the first time someone had told him that hewill call them by a friendly name rather thanallowing him to do so. "What if I prefer Elizabeth?"

"Do you?" she asked.

"Liz is fine," he assured her. "I'm just not used to people telling me what I will call them. Do you usually order people to call you Liz?"

"I didn't order you," she said. "I told you that you will call me Liz because it's what you prefer."

"How do you know it's what I prefer?"

"Would you rather call me Elizabeth, or Liz?" she asked pointedly.

"Liz," he answered quickly.

"Why?"

"Because you told me to," he said. As soon as he said this, he wondered why he'd said it. What he really meant was "Because you would prefer me to," but he hadn't said this, because she hadn't reallyasked him to call her Liz, nor had she said she would prefer it. His answer was truthful: he planned to call her Liz because she had told him to do so.

"Do you always do what strangers tell you to do?" she asked with a playful smirk.

"No... I mean, not usually, no, but in your case..." he trailed off.

He was hoping that she would have something to say after that, to rescue him from having to complete his sentence, but she just sat there and continued to stare at him, wordless, soundless, motionless. He stared back at her too, becoming increasingly agitated. He actually started squirming because he didn't know what he should do or say. When he started doing this, she suddenly asked "In my case what?"

"I just mean, in your case, it's different, because... Um... Well..." The truth was that he didn't mind doing what she said, because she was an attractive woman, and it was worth obeying an attractive woman in exchange for her attention. But he didn't want to say this, because it would sound very weird, so he continued to stammer for a few moments, hopelessly at a loss for words.

She giggled suddenly. "You're cute when you're confused," she said.

This was a new one for Roger. It wasn't the first time a woman had told him he was cute-he was a reasonably handsome guy-nor was it the first time someone had told him that he was cute because of a particular behavior or appearance trait, but this was certainly the first time someone had told him that he was cute for beingconfused. "I am?" he wondered. "That's a new one... I don't think anyone has ever told me that being confused looks good on me."

"It does, definitely," she affirmed. "You should be confused more often."

"Thank you, I guess," he said, unsure whether this was really a compliment. "I'm not usually confused very often, though."

"Oh, good! Then I can help you," she said warmly.

He paused and swallowed nervously in a way that he hoped she didn't notice, even though it was basically impossible for it to escape her notice. "I don't think I need your help in that regard," he said cautiously.

"But you do. You said that you don't get confused very often," she pointed out reasonably.

"I don't think that Iwant to be confused very often."

"Yes you do. Not from just anyone, though. Only from me."

And they both stopped, staring at each other. He was becoming increasingly nervous now, while she was becoming increasingly sure that she'd made the right decision.

"Don't you?" she asked. It was a rhetorical question. They both knew the answer was yes.

"I don't know..." he said, breaking eye contact and staring off into the distance in a way that communicated he wasn't being honest.

"I knew you would say that," she said with a sudden sly smile. "Nice cop-out."

And then he stared helplessly at her, not knowing what to say. He had the feeling that anything he could say at that point would only make things more awkward for him.

But would that be a bad thing? Maybe he would like things to become more awkward for him...

Liz managed to keep a straight expression on her face, but internally, she was delighted. She knew it was already too late for Roger; she had decided to speak to him because she could always identify a person who needed to be controlled, and it was clear that he was a man who needed to be controlled by a woman like her.

"Do you come here often?" she asked.

"Yes, I like to take walks here, and..."

"Then you will be here tomorrow at 4:00." She stood up and began walking away.

"Hey! Wait a minute! What if I don'twant to be here at 4:00 tomorrow?" he called after her.

She made no sign of acknowledgment. They both knew that he would be there at the appointed time. He had no choice; otherwise he would never know how the story would progress.