by Robin Roseau
Well, except I worked in a bar. She didn’t really think she could drink me under the table, did she?
“One of the challengers has asked if this is a drinking contest,” said the colonel to the crowd. “In a way, it is. However, they are not consuming alcohol. They are consuming simple apple cider, but it is laced with an aphrodisiac.”
She paused, and then most of the people present began laughing. Even I began laughing. Once I could be heard, I yelled, “A clever challenge.” I bowed to Jessla.
Colonel Melstie indicated a table with a sand timer. “This is five minutes. Every time I call out, they will each consume a glass. In addition, they are free to talk to each other, and if one has a clear, emotional response to something the other has said or done, I will order her to consume a glass alone.”
And Jessla smirked at me.
I raised my hand, and Melstie laughed. “Yes, Challenger?”
“Do squirms count because it’s starting to work?”
“If I judge the squirm as due at least in part to something your challenger has said or done, yes. Otherwise, no. Squirm all you want.”
“Oh, do squirm, Cee,” Jessla said.
“I was only clarifying the rules,” I said. “I know you like rules, Jay.”
She snorted. “Colonel,” I said. “Would that response have counted as an emotional response?”
“An expression of mirth or amusement?” said the colonel. “Absolutely.”
Jessla’s eyes widened. “And that?” I asked.
“If it was due to something you said,” she said. “Yes. But not this time, as it was something I said.”
“Very good. Thank you, Colonel. Anything else?”
“No, no. I think everyone understands, Cee.”
“Funny,” I said as drolly as I could. “Then may I wish my challenger good luck? She’s going to need it.”
“Of course.”
Jessla and I stepped forward, avoiding our stools. We hugged, and I gave her a small kiss then whispered, “I love this challenge.”
“It is my favorite for snaring a pleasure slave,” she said. “In preparation, I switched my four part-time pleasure slaves into red. I told them about you, and they can’t wait to meet you later.”
“Excellent,” I said. “So that means when I win you, I win them as well.”
“Funny.” She stepped away.
Four guards stepped forward, helping both of us into place, guiding us as necessary. And then they locked our feet into place, well in the resin, but they left our hands free.
I squirmed, growing somewhat more comfortable, although I pressed the device more deeply inside, and that made me squirm a second time. Jessla smiled, and I realized I should have held out.
“Are you both ready?”
“Ready!” I said.
Jessla only nodded. And so the colonel said, “Begin. Consume your first glass.”
There were shot glasses on a table to my right. Jessla had her own table. And there were two guards waiting with small jugs. We each had four glasses, but they would only step forward as necessary.
I picked my first glass up and raised it in salute to Jessla. She raised her own, and then, watching each other, we both tipped the glasses into our mouths.
It was weird. My tongue expected alcohol, perhaps brandy or bourbon. Instead, it received apple cider. I made a face but set my empty glass down.
“You do not care for cider?” Jessla asked.
“My body expected something else,” I replied. “That was an expression of disappointed expectation, I suppose. You don’t get credit for it.
Jessla and I spoke easily for several minutes. She really was a fascinating woman, quite intelligent and well-spoken, and I loved seeing her relax.
Relaxed. How ironic?
And then the colonel said, “Please drink your next glass.”
I lifted mine and saluted Jessla. And I made a face, although this one was intentional. “Cider does not agree with you?” Jessla asked.
“It’s not that,” I said. “It is that my tongue is expecting bourbon from such a glass, and it is only the unexpected taste.”
“So you mentioned,” she replied.
“Ah, you remembered. I had thought you had forgotten.”
Her eyes narrowed at me. “Colonel,” I asked, “Is annoyance an emotional response.”
“Please drink your next glass, Judge.”
Her jaw dropped, and she sharply looked at the colonel. The colonel gazed at her dryly, and Jessla drank her third glass.
“Huh,” I said. “I like this game.”
“You set me up!” Jessla said.
“Colonel,” I asked. “Is that an emotional reaction?”
“Why, I do believe it is,” said the colonel with a grin.
Jessla shook a finger at me but didn’t argue about drinking her fourth glass. I watched as the guard refilled Jessla’s four glasses.
* * * *
I was sure she’d come after me hard, and she didn’t surprise me. “When this is over,” she said. “You will be getting a summons.”
“Oh?” I asked casually. “To dinner?”
“A summons to my courtroom.”
“Ah. That kind of summons. Am I to testify in some court case? Should I prepare notes?”
“You will face a charge of insulting a public official.” Ah, there it was.
“Oh,” I said. “Only one?”
“Excuse me?”
“Only one charge?” I clarified. “Maybe I don’t understand the charge. Do I need a lawyer? Colonel, do you know what she’s talking about?”
“I’m not sure I want to get into the middle of this,” said the colonel.
“Bock, bock, bock,” I said. Then I covered my mouth with my hand and put on an expression of surprise. “Oh, my. Was that three additional charges, or does that only count as one?”
“I do not believe you are taking me seriously, Ms. Rosebush.”
“We’re back to formality,” I said. “Is it an additional charge if I call you Jessla rather than Your Honor? Really, I don’t know much about these things.”
“You are not this vapid.”
“I am a simple barmaid, Jessla.” Then I put on the expression again before speaking past my hand. “You didn’t tell me if that was an insult.”
“Ms. Rosebush!”
“Please drink another glass, Your Honor,” said the colonel.
Jessla glared at her, but she drank. And immediately the colonel said, “And the sand has run out. Please, if you would both drink.”
I saluted Jessla. And made the face.
“Surely you’ve grown accustomed to the taste,” said Jessla.
“There’s nothing wrong with the taste,” I said. “I am quite fond of cider. But as you know, I am a barmaid. I see a glass such as this, and my tongue expects bourbon or brandy. I suppose others might expect cognac, but I would never drink cognac from a simple shot glass. And so my tongue expects one flavor and receives another.”
Jessla waved her finger at me. “I heard you the first two times.”
“Ah, you remember,” I said. “I wasn’t sure you would. It’s been several minutes.”
“You will be facing two charges of insulting a public official,” she said. “The sentence is typically the pillory, although I can downgrade that if you appear quite contrite. You do not.”
“Huh,” I replied. I leaned forward, reminding myself what was going on, and then I squirmed, then again. It took a minute to get comfortable again.
And Jessla smiled while watching me.
“Your Honor,” said the colonel. “I would like you to drink your next glass.”
Jessla froze. Her face turned utterly blank, and she drank. We each now had one glass left, but hers had all been refilled once, and mine had not.
That was the last time I got her. But that didn’t keep me from trying.
“As I was about to point out, Jessla. Or is it Your Honor? You haven’t answered. Well, until you
correct me, I will call you Jessla. As I was about to point out, Jessla, here we sit, locked onto these stools. Neither of us is dressed in a formal fashion. We have a crowd watching us engaged in a drinking game, which is about the furthest from public official as I can imagine, but maybe they do things differently in Ressaline. Although what do I know? Maybe our former council engaged in drinking games over important matters, too. If so, I wouldn’t know of it.”
I smiled. “But to add to it, not only are we sitting here, engaged in a drinking game, but we have these things slid inside of us. I don’t know about yours, but mine feels quite strange.” I squirmed, and that made me squirm again. “But you’re talking about insulting a public official? Really, I don’t understand. But I’m just a simple barmaid.”
“You aren’t taking me seriously.”
“Of course I am. I asked if I would need a lawyer. You haven’t answered. Will this summons be written? Will it specify a date and time? Or will you issue a warrant for my arrest and have me collected with no warning. If so, please wait until after the noon rush. I’d hate to leave my customers dissatisfied. Word of poor service gets around.”
She spent another minute trying to get a rise out of me. She insisted she wasn’t bluffing. She insisted I would most likely be pilloried.
“Really, Jessla,” I said. “This isn’t working. Don’t you know when to try a new tack.” I made my mock gesture of surprise again. “Oh. You’ve forgotten how hard you’ve worked to get a rise out of me.”
“Three counts,” she said.
I considered a sarcastic response, but I wasn’t sure the colonel wouldn’t make me drink for it, so I said simply, “All right. I look forward to an inside view of the Ressaline justice system. I’m sure I’ll be impressed and won’t even think the word ‘corrupt’.”
I almost got her with that one; I was sure of it. But she closed her mouth, and if she reacted, it was sufficiently subtle Colonel Melstie didn’t call her on it.
I shifted on the stool, and then squirmed a few times. Jessla watched me. “Are you feeling the effects, Cee?”
I smiled. “Would you answer a question, Your Honor?”
“If I can remember the start of the question by the time you reach the end, I’ll be happy to answer.”
I barked a laugh, not expecting me to turn my own joke back at me, and I was already reaching for my fourth glass before Colonel Melstie could make it an order. I drank it down and clinked the glass back on the table. The guard stepped forward and filled my four glasses. “Good one, Jessla,” I said.
“Thank you.”
“Did you let me have those points?”
“I’m just giving you a fighting chance.”
“I see,” I said. “I’ve noticed something about you Ressalines.”
“We’re all Ressalines here.”
“I’m just a simple barmaid,” I replied. “I see myself as Charthan and you as Ressaline, and I suspect you do, too. What I’ve noticed is this: getting a straight answer to a simple question is a real challenge, when dealing with a Ressaline.”
I shrugged. “It’s by far the most annoying thing about you. I can’t tell if it’s a stalling tactic or a power game. Probably both.”
“I’ve never thought about it before,” she admitted. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“Here’s the thing. You have all the advantages over us. You destroyed the Charthan military. I don’t know much about that. I’m just a simple barmaid.”
“You keep saying that. You’re not at all simple, Claary. I wouldn’t be here if you were.”
“That’s a separate conversation,” I said. “I’d like to finish this one first.”
“Right after you drink,” said Colonel Melstie.
“Just me?” I asked. “What did I do?” In response, she waved the sandglass at me. I picked up a glass and drank the contents. I set it down and looked back at Jessla. “So. You destroyed our military and then captured the entire country. You surrounded our city and convinced us to send away anyone who could possibly protect us. We’re now entirely at your mercy. We don’t have the slightest bit of power.”
“That isn’t exactly the case.”
“Right,” I said. “So when you encounter one of us who is doing her best to get along, to make the most of the situation, what do you do? You could help her learn. Instead, all of you give vague answers to questions that almost any of you are able to answer. I bet Colonel Melstie knows the answer to the question I asked you, but if I ask her, she’ll put me off, too.”
I looked away, frustrated now. “It’s the biggest reason I have troubles trusting you. It makes me think this is all a game to you, and that in the end, you really intend to enslave the entire country. You’re just getting us used to the idea.”
“If that was our plan,” Jessla said. “And if you’re as helpless as you say you are, what’s stopping us from just doing it?”
“Mass suicides.”
I turned back. “That’s the only defense we have. Or maybe it’s more fun this way. But the Charthan women still significantly outnumber your soldiers. Maybe you’re doing it this way as a form of pacifying us, so that when you do start going street to street, letting you get away with it doesn’t seem as bad as dying.”
“Is that what you believe, Claary?”
“I don’t know what to believe,” I said. “I said the way I can’t get a straight answer makes me wonder. That’s all.”
“We’re not trying to mislead you,” she said.
“Said everyone misleading anyone, since the invention of speech.”
“That’s fair,” she replied. “We do it to each other, too, especially those of us in greater authority, and most especially those who eschew deceit. I don’t know if it’s conscious. I think it’s an automatic reaction while we decide if we want to answer. I didn’t want to answer, because I was measuring whether a real answer would offer you additional advantage. That’s not a power game. But you can’t expect me to actually help you win, Claary.”
“Then why not just tell me you don’t want to answer?”
“Because I wasn’t sure whether it would hurt to answer. You won those points fair and square. You knew that particular comment would sit poorly with me, but you came at it from a surprising angle, and you caught me with it. That led to a string of surprises until I brought my reactions back under control.” She smiled. “You won’t get more.”
“That’s probably true,” I agreed.
“I could easily get points from you,” she said. “I could make you angry. But that would dramatically damage your mood, which would ruin this experience for both of us.”
“How many glasses will it take before one of us loses?”
“We’ve both had enough, although without being able to touch each other, it would take a while,” she replied. “In reality, the magic involved demands a winner, in a way. With neither of us able to escape, one of us would find herself overcome eventually, but that can take far too long. The aphrodisiac simply hurries the process.” She smiled. “And it’s fun. You and I are both going to be amazingly horny by the time this is over.”
Hearing her use that word made me smile, and the colonel ordered me to drink for doing so. My advantage was nearly erased, which was frustrating.
“Tell me about that,” I said.
“Well, I’m going to win,” she said. “But I am going to be rather insatiable. You, however, will be even more so, and that will be your nature until I release you. If it weren’t for the fun of the other events, you’d spend the next two weeks out of your mind for sex.”
I squirmed. The colonel didn’t make me drink for that, but she probably should have. “I’m not sure my body can handle that.”
“It would actually be a little cruel to do that to you,” she said. “I’ve used this exact challenge for two of those daughters I once told you about.”
“Of your rivals?”
“Yes. I kept them that way for six months until finally I showed merc
y. I freed them then took them both as household servants until they had physically recovered. But a day, or possibly two, won’t hurt you.”
* * * *
Twenty minutes passed. Jessla drank for each. I drank one extra, and we were tied, at least in the number of glasses we’d consumed.
But I was losing. She was remaining cooler than I was, although red resin was up to her waist, and I could tell she enjoyed it. She kept stroking her legs and was doing her own squirming.
I was entirely turned on, and I knew it wouldn’t be much longer before this would be over.
It didn’t hurt that Jessla had spent fifteen of those minutes telling me some of the things she was going to have me do. Some were to her, and some were with other members of her family. It took her a few minutes to figure out what made me squirmier, but she had my number now, especially with the aphrodisiac’s involvement.
“Truce,” I said, interrupting a recitation of more plans.
“I don’t think so.”
“I just want to ask you something,” I told her. I tapped the glasses. “Are we on the edge of consuming too much of this?”
“Why do you ask?”
“The flip side of that question is this: have we consumed enough for your complete plan?”
“Ah,” she said. “You’ll be drinking a few more. Take off your shift.”
It came with the force of an order, and I had done it before I even realized it, and it caused me to squirm around besides. I moaned and found myself riding the stool slowly. After a minute of that, I managed to bring myself under control again. The resin had been below my breasts when I’d removed the shift, but now they were covered.
But when I looked, Jessla had her eyes closed, and she was squirming, too. Oh, she wasn’t as gone as I was, but if I could hold out a while, she might catch up. What were the chances?
“Time,” said the colonel. “Each of you drink.”
I waited until Jessla had a glass in her hand. I tried to lift my own, but my hands were too shaky. I lifted it anyway, and it spilled everywhere. I stared at it. “I’m sorry.”
“Expected,” said Colonel Melstie. “Don’t fight the guard.”
“I won’t.”