Bidding War

by Julia P. Lynde

  "This is lovely, Pamela," she told me after a while.

  "I made plans for the day," I said. "But I didn't really plan anything into the evening."

  "We can go to my place," she said.

  "Are you going to seduce me?"

  She glanced at me. "Would that be a problem?"

  "Not necessarily, but then won't our third date be anti-climactic?"

  "I might be willing to risk that," she said.

  "I don't want to be that easy for you," I told her. "I want you to have to work for it."

  She laughed. "That wasn't 'no'."

  I didn't respond to that.

  "We could go dancing again." She didn't sound thrilled by the idea.

  "We'll be tired. Going to your house would be nice if you promise you won't try to remove a single stitch of my clothing."

  "Not even your jacket?"

  "Or I can drop you off when we get back to the cities."

  "I will behave," she promised.

  We stayed there, lying down on the blanket side by side, staring out at the lake, lightly touching, but we both started to get cold once the sun began to settle behind the hills.

  "Time to go," I told her.

  We packed up and were soon on our way.

  It was work, but I spent the drive back to work pulling stories about her. I got her to tell me about some of her coworkers and some of her patients. I stayed away from stories about growing up. I asked her about her favorite fantasies.

  "You aren't ready for those," she told me with a leer.

  "Try me."

  "All right." She paused. "I've always wanted to do it in a swimming pool."

  "A swimming pool, hmm?" I thought about it for a moment. "I thought you'd come up with something racier."

  "I didn't want to scare you."

  "Would I be scared?"

  "Maybe." She paused. "I don't like being vulnerable, so I usually over compensate."

  She didn't add to it. "You're telling me something."

  "I like to be the dominant one in the relationship, especially when the clothes start to come off."

  "How dominant?"

  "Very."

  "So far I must trouble the crap out of you."

  She laughed. "You let me lead when I lead. But yes, this is very new for me. Even letting you drive is difficult for me."

  "So, if I were to let you seduce me, what would it be like?"

  "Very gentle. The first time."

  "Not so gentle later?"

  "I'm not abusive. Nothing like that."

  I thought about it for a while. "What's your longest steady relationship?"

  "A long weekend."

  "I thought you and that woman in Japan-"

  "On again, off again, a night or a weekend at a time."

  "You know you're being evasive," I accused.

  "I don't want you to think I'm some sort of kinky dominatrix."

  "Are you?"

  She didn't answer.

  "Really?"

  "No. Yes. Depends on your definition. Most of my sex is pretty vanilla."

  "Vanilla?"

  "Lesbian normal."

  "And some of the sex?"

  "I've been known to be very demanding."

  I sighed. "Evasive."

  "I like to tie her up. Sometimes."

  "With what?"

  "Rope. I'm a surgeon. We're very good with knots."

  I thought about her tying me up, my being unable to move, completely at her mercy.

  "What would you do to me once I was helpless?"

  "I'd start touching you. Teasing you. Driving you crazy with desire."

  "Crazy, hmm?"

  "I am very good at that. I know exactly how to touch you."

  I smiled. "Then what?"

  "You'd be squirming and begging."

  "Begging to be untied? Begging you to stop?"

  "Begging me for an orgasm."

  "Are you sure?"

  "My fantasy. In my fantasy, you beg."

  I laughed. "All right. So once I beg, you give me an orgasm?"

  "Absolutely not. I stop."

  "What?!"

  "And then I would tell you that you can have an orgasm only after you agree to my demands."

  "Oh, now, that's naughty."

  "Scared?"

  "Nope. What would your demands be?"

  "You would agree to be my sex slave."

  "Oh, really?" I asked her.

  "Yes."

  "Would I agree?"

  "I can be very convincing."

  "Ever done this before?"

  "Not with those terms, but yes. Every woman who I have tied up has begged and agreed to my demands."

  "What were those demands?"

  "One of them was a writer. I made that one agree to use my first name for one of her main characters in an upcoming novel."

  I laughed. "Good one. Did she do it?"

  "Yes."

  "So, would I agree? Really, not just in your fantasy?"

  "If we were to the point you let me tie you up, yes."

  "Cocky."

  "Confident."

  "And how long would I be your slave?"

  "The first time? A week."

  "What would my duties be?"

  "I have no idea." We laughed together. "I'd think of something."

  We drove quietly for a few minutes. "What if I let you tie me up, but asked you not to carry it that far?"

  "I can tease you, but not a demand that extreme?"

  "Yes."

  "I might make you go without panties for a week."

  "Oh dear."

  "Or be my servant for a dinner party."

  "No."

  "Hmm?"

  "Whatever we do is between us and no one else. Ever."

  "That's fair." She paused. "I might forbid you wearing jeans or slacks for a week. Dresses and skirts only."

  "You prefer when I appear more feminine?"

  "Yes. The gown you wore was exceedingly striking."

  "Thank you."

  I kept her talking about this for a while. Once she loosened up, she had fun, although the suggestions she threw out grew increasingly silly. I fueled them as much as I could. Listening to her, I found myself becoming stimulated. I began to squirm a little.

  Suddenly she stopped talking. "You like my fantasies."

  She made it a statement, not a question. "I plead the fifth."

  "You were squirming."

  "No I wasn't. Just stiff from driving."

  "I can drive."

  I paused. "All right, I was squirming."

  She laughed.

  "Sure, laugh it up," I said. "I will rest happy knowing you're going to be thinking about all of those things you just described, unable to act on any of it. Straight girl and all that."

  "Oh you bitch," she said, but she was laughing. "Your turn. Favorite fantasy."

  "I don't have any."

  "Liar."

  "I don't." I glanced at her. "Okay, I have one. I'd like to know what the big deal is."

  She didn't say anything. I glanced over twice more and she was staring at me.

  "You're serious?"

  "Yep."

  "You've never had an orgasm?"

  "Sure," I said. "Usually on my own."

  "Not with guys."

  "A few. They weren't any big deal."

  "But you were squirming a few minutes ago."

  "Yes. Don't ask me to explain it."

  So she asked about past boyfriends. I answered her questions for a while before turning it around again.

  That conversation got us to Duluth. We stopped for gas and to stretch our legs.

  "Would you like me to drive?" she asked.

  "Would you mind?"

  "Not at all. You've drive all day, and you're fatigued."

  "You can tell?"

  "You're all tense." She stepped up to me and rubbed her hands across my shoulders and back. "Through here."

  "Oh. I am."

  We finished filling
up, then I raided the cooler for us before climbing into the passenger side, giving Gwendolyn my keys. I had to navigate until we were on the interstate, but then I could relax. She knew the way from there.

  I fed her and spent the rest of the trip asking or answering silly questions. It was light hearted and fun. About halfway home from Duluth, she stopped me. "You know, I can't remember the last time I had a conversation this long that wasn't about medicine."

  "I know this is fluffier than you're used to."

  "That's what I wanted. What I needed," she said. "You're making me feel human, Pamela."

  As we approached the cities I told her, "I don't have anything for dinner planned."

  "We can have something delivered. I have all the numbers."

  I laughed. "Next time I am cooking through." I paused. "Are you going to get pulled away?"

  "It doesn't happen that often," she said. "But it's always a risk. When?"

  "Friday?"

  "I'll make sure I'm not on call. Then I'll only get calls for my own patients, but no emergencies to help anyone else."

  "What would have happened if something had happened today?"

  "One of my colleagues would have taken care of it, but by and large, we each try to service our own patients."

  "What about vacations?"

  "Those are a chore to orchestrate. I don't like going on vacation when I have recovering patients, so I try to avoid it." She paused. "I've only taken two vacations since becoming a surgeon."

  "What good is all that money if you don't spend it?"

  She looked over at me with a sad expression. "I don't know," she said. "That's what I'm starting to explore." Then she grinned. "Spending it on new rope might be fun."

  I laughed.

  She drove us straight to her place and led the way into her house. As soon as we were inside, I melted into her arms for a moment, then she said, "I'll order dinner. And you will do whatever I tell you to do."

  "I will, hmm?"

  "Yes."

  "We'll see."

  She smiled. "Pizza, Chinese, Thai, or a burger?"

  "Chinese or Thai."

  "Thai it is." She made a call and ordered for both of us. I let her. Everything sounded good.

  She led me to her living room. "Wait here and take off your jacket." She paused. "In fact, get as naked as you're comfortable."

  "Hey."

  "Backrub. How much you are wearing is entirely up to you."

  She disappeared into the back of the house. I kicked off my shoes and took off my jacket, then I closed the blinds. When she got back, she was pulling a long cushion that looked like it came from the recliner on her deck. She set it down on the floor.

  "Normally I would do this on the bed, but I think you would freak." She sized me up and down. "I promise I'm not trying to seduce you. When the food comes, you will put on anything you have taken off."

  "Turn around," I told her.

  "I'm a doctor."

  "Turn around."

  She grinned but turned around. I slipped off my blouse and bra, then lay down on the cushion. "You can turn around."

  She knelt down next to me and moved my hair out of the way. She applied her hands to my back, and it was divine.

  "You are very tense," she said. "Is this fear of me?"

  "No. Just the drive." I paused. "And a little stress. I'm applying for a job, and I've been studying for it."

  "In finance?"

  "At an investment bank. It's in my field."

  "Congratulations, Pamela!" she said. "One of your resumes finally got through?"

  "No." I paused. "Um."

  "Oh. A friend of Moira's."

  "Yes."

  "That woman has more contacts than you can shake a stick at. I wondered whether she'd hook you up." Then she changed the subject. "I want you to think about someplace very calming."

  "Gooseberry."

  "Good choice. Think of the way the water rolls over the rocks." She kept talking to me softly, describing the serenity of Gooseberry Falls exceedingly well. She worked my entire back, and she was amazingly good. She was firm, but never pinched, not once. Soon I found myself a little puddle of goo on her floor.

  "Honey," she said. "I'm going to get a tiny bit more intimate with you. I promise I'm not making a pass at you."

  "Ok."

  She slid her fingers under the waistband of my jeans and began to massage the large muscles of my lower back and the top of my buttocks. It felt amazing.

  Then the doorbell rang.

  "Sorry," she said.

  "It's okay."

  She got up and headed for the front door. I sat up and put my clothes back on. I felt a lot better. When she got back carrying a large sack of food, I smiled at her. "That was amazing. Thank you."

  "You're welcome," she said.

  "Does having an understanding of physiology help?"

  "Yes, but having practice is more help. Come to the kitchen with me."

  I climbed slowly from the floor and followed her. She set the food on the counter and pulled everything out. I dug through her cupboards and found plates, glasses and silverware.

  "I don't have any tea, but the water is filtered or there is soda in the refrigerator."

  I got sodas for both of us. Her refrigerator had no real food, just leftovers containers, a few condiments, and the cans of soda. "We are so different," I said.

  "I know. Opposites attract?"

  I laughed.

  "What did you want to do this evening?"

  "I hadn't planned a thing. I am sorry."

  "Go? Or a movie?"

  "Oh, go. Then maybe a movie."

  "Winner picks the movie. Loser agrees to watch it."

  I laughed. "Do you know your rank?"

  "Yes. Do you?"

  I shrugged.

  "You played in college just with this one boy?"

  I nodded.

  "Was he good?

  I shrugged.

  "I will give you nine stones." I stared at her. She was offering a large handicap. She must be very good. "It's a small wager, and you're picking from my movie collection. If you win, I won't mind."

  The handicap system in go is one of the best things about it. If you know your rank, and someone else knows her rank, you automatically know a proper handicap so that, if you play several games, you should each win half the games. A strong player can play with a weaker player and still have an exciting game.

  "I will get my board," she said. "If you can bring everything to the dining room table."

  She disappeared upstairs while I carried everything to the next room then proceeded to serve us both our dishes. She got back carrying an expensive go board and two bowls of stones. When she opened them, I saw they were made from real slate and sea shell. They were expensive stones. The ones I had played with had been glass. The sets you might find at the mall are plastic. Yuck.

  She slid the bowl of black stones to me then sat down on her side of the table and picked up her chopsticks. I ate a little of my food, then put nine stones on the board.

  Go is played on a wooden board arranged in a nineteen by nineteen grid. The stones are places at the intersections of the grid, not in the squares. The goal is to capture territory by surrounding it with your own stones. There are rules for capturing your opponent's stones, but other than being captured, once a stone is played, it isn't moved.

  As soon as my nine stones were in their proper places on the board, Gwendolyn reached over and placed a white stone on the board. I made my play, and Gwendolyn frowned. "Are you good enough to play that properly?"

  I stared at her.

  "Honey, I play to win. Always. I won't hold back, but I don't want you to lose so badly you won't play with me in the future."

  "I'll play my best, Gwendolyn, but I won't get upset. I might ask you to tell me what I did wrong."

  "All right," she said. "But this isn't a teaching game. I'm not going to explain any mistakes while we're playing."

  "Fair enough." I
smiled.

  She made her move and I ate some of my dinner.

  After three moves each, she played near the opposite corner. I looked at our first exchange, and I was feeling far less confident about my position than when we'd started. I played differently, a move I knew was more conservative.

  She nodded, and we exchanged play for a few turns before she played in another corner.

  After that, play moved around the board a lot. I spent the entire time responding to Gwendolyn's plays, eating slowly while we played. It took me a while to be sure, but I was badly outclassed. I managed to avoid any egregiously bad plays, but still, it was clear I was going to have very little territory by the time the game was over.

  I caught her watching me at one point, perhaps judging whether I was upset. I smiled at her and asked her what color ropes she had.

  She stared at me then began laughing. "Little vixen. I am not that easily distracted."

  "I didn't think you were," I told her. "But you were worried I was upset. I don't have a clue how this happened, and that is frustrating, but I'll be ready to play again. For very, very small wagers."

  I could have asked for a larger handicap, but nine stones is really the most you would normally play, or at least that's what my old boyfriend had told me.

  I examined the board and made my next play.

  In the end, Gwendolyn held most of the free territory on the board, and she had captured enough of my stones that I had a negative score. I looked at her and said, "I guess I am your prisoner."

  "Vixen."

  I grinned.

  We cleaned up from dinner, then I caught her in the kitchen and kissed her. "I don't mind being your prisoner. I kind of like it, in fact."

  She stepped away from me at that point and turned away.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "Did I say something wrong?"

  "No. You're pushing my buttons. I promised I wouldn't try to seduce you."

  "Good buttons?"

  "Yes."

  "Is it going to be difficult to cuddle in front of a movie? Should I go?"

  She turned around. "Oh no," she said. "You're staying. You lost the wager. You don't get out of it that easily."

  I laughed. "I wasn't trying to get out of anything."

  We finished cleaning up then she took me into the basement. She had a home theater set up there with a fireplace on the side and an exceedingly comfortable-looking sofa.

  "Oh, this is nice," I said.

  She set the lights to a moderate level then told me to sit on the couch, pointing where she wanted me. Then she went to a cabinet and looked through the movies. She turned to look at me.