Tuesday morning, Operating Room 9.
The red-grey tumor stubbornly clung to the sides of the pelvis. For three hours, the two surgeons worked to coax it out.
"I've got the view," said Brick. "Two Kelly clamps, scissors and a stick-tie."
The instruments danced in her fingers. In seconds, the tumor was out and Brick was throwing one-handed knots deep inside the wound.
"Careful with that one-handed technique, Brick," murmured Nina, the senior attending surgeon. "Those knots have to hold perfectly."
Brick fumed. She went back to the fuddy-duddy techniques she first learned as a student many years ago.
"Great job, Brick. You're becoming an outstanding surgeon. Great to have you on the team," said Nina, stripping off her surgical gown and gloves. "I'll go talk to the family. You all get her closed."
After Nina left, Brick started parroting Nina to Sara and Rachel, the scrub nurse and the circulator. "Two-handed ties, Brick. Push the knot down, Brick. Pull the tissue this way, Brick." Shit, she was already a better surgeon than Nina, but the jealous fool wouldn't admit it.
Sara and Rachel glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. They had been through this enough times before with Brick to just let it go until later.
Tuesday Evening, Cleary's Pub
Every hospital has its local watering hole where the staff unwind at the end of a long day. Cleary's was so much a part of the medical scene that the proprietor hung a phone on the wall with a copy of the hospital paging directory for the exclusive use of the medical staff. Dark wood, brass furnishings, leather chairs and banquettes, it was the polar opposite of a yuppie wine bar. Part of the ritual when a new doctor or nurse came on staff included a welcome drink at Cleary's, if for no other reason to make them understand that Cleary's had its own rules.
Predictably, the new arrival would ask for a glass of wine. The bartender would immediately glower at the newbie, raise his (or her) eyebrows and shout, "We don't do sissy drinks here! Ya got three choices-a draft, scotch or bourbon! What'll it be?"
Sara, Rachel and Brick had settled back into a banquette, draft beers in hand, to watch the show. Sure enough, the chief of staff brought his administrative team and a new face over to the bar. The new guy seemed to have everybody's attention. He looked around, catching Brick's eyes briefly, and asked the bartender for a vodka martini
The bartender, a muscular woman who probably had equal the guy's testosterone, pulled herself up to her full height, leaned over the bar and started to bellow.
"Sissy-man, this is no sissy-bar! You wanna sissy drink, you go to the sissy place down the street! Beer, bourbon or scotch, sissy man?"
New guy didn't miss a beat. "Scotch with a splash. And you know, you're beautiful when you're mad."
The bartender turned beet red as the rest of the bar erupted in laughter.
Brick turned to Sara and Rachel and remarked, "Great. We have a smart ass in our midst."
Sara responded, "Brick, the guy used a little humor on the amazon behind the bar. You might take a page from his book. Word on the street is that he's a terrific surgeon and everyone at his old place loved to work with him."
Rachel continued, "Yeah, I got a call from the nurses at Midwest Medical Center and they all say do anything you can to work with this guy." She paused. "I've asked to be assigned to his room."
Brick went ballistic. "You can't do that." She looked over at Sara. "You're not trying to leave me too?"
Sara bit her lip. "Well, I did ask for a tryout."
If looks could kill, Brick committed a double-homicide. She threw a twenty onto the table. Sara and Rachel hurried out. Brick strode over to give the new guy a piece of her mind.
"Hello, I'm Brick." She squared her shoulders. "I hear you're trying to steal my nurses."
He turned to face her.
"Oh hello! You must be the Dragon Lady. My name's George. Pleasure to meet you."
Living up to her name, Brick turned dark red. Determined not to lose her cool at hearing the sobriquet, she calmly replied, "You know, I breathe fire before breakfast."
George looked at her, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Then you must melt a lot of toothbrushes...."
As it happens when a new surgeon comes to a hospital, a crowd had gathered to watch his first case. George did a straightforward hernia repair. More correctly, George held retractors while he talked two resident surgeons through the procedure. The two residents had a reputation for not being the "sharpest knives in the box", but under George's quiet, steady direction they looked like a couple of pros.
After his own case, George wandered into Brick's operating room where another difficult cancer case was underway. He watched quietly as the surgeons struggled to remove the cancer. Rachel, the circulating nurse, came over and whispered something in George's ear.
Brick glanced up. Peering over her surgical mask, she said, "Good morning doctor, come to see how the ladies operate?" Brick barked out orders for a couple of instruments, which Sara snapped into her waiting hands.
George chuckled, infuriating Brick. "You ladies seem to have matters well in hand. I'll just retreat to my man-cave."
An hour later, Brick wandered into the surgeons' lounge. Half a dozen residents were gathered around George, each wanting to scrub with him on a case--news of his teaching prowess had travelled fast.
Brick poured a cup of coffee and walked over to him. "I don't get it," she said. "You're here for 48 hours and the residents are throwing themselves at you."
George smiled at Brick as the residents scurried away from the Dragon Lady
"The surgery is the easy part. Figuring out what people want and meeting their needs, that's the challenge." George went on. "I see you're a terrific surgeon....".
Brick started to turn red. "The only need in my operating room is to get the case done."
George chuckled again. "Brick, you don't even acknowledge your own needs. How can you acknowledge others'?"
Brick flushed deep crimson. "Oh, and you know my needs, Doctor?"
That damn chuckle again. Then, George's voice turned steely.
"Brick, go wash your hands."
Brick looked at him. "What did you just say?"
George replied, "I'll say it once more. And only once. Go wash your hands."
Brick replied, "And if I refuse?"
George's voice mellowed. "You won't. You can't. Inside the Dragon Lady lurks a woman who desperately wants to be controlled."
Brick replied, "You are such a bullshitter." She walked out of the lounge.
She made it about 25 yards before giving in to the uncontrollable need to wash her hands.
Brick's first case was a no show. In George's room, the residents were busy with an intestinal resection while George once again simply held the retractors and talked the trainees through the operation. Brick, who was not easily impressed, had to admit that George seemed two steps ahead of the residents and was able to anticipate and prevent errors. He also anticipated her question. "It's just a matter of knowing what they need, and giving it to them." He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the case.
Later, in the surgeons' lounge, Brick turned to him and asked, "What exactly do you think I need?"
George replied, " I think you need to follow instructions."
Brick started to redden, when George said. "Just stop. Tomorrow's Saturday. Hit the gym. I'll see you at lunch." He named a local restaurant. "1 p.m. And wear a skirt."
Brick woke up, fed her dog, pulled on her shorts and sport-bra and headed to the gym. Feistier than usual, she forced herself through an extra-hard workout. Still, she could hardly shake George's voice from her mind. No way was she going to show for lunch, much less in a skirt.
She glanced up at the clock. 11:45. Suddenly, she felt hungry. She drove home, and started to the refrigerator to make herself a sandwich. She finally gave in, closed the refrigerator door, and ran to the shower. She made it to the restaurant exactly at 1 pm.
She walked in and saw George seated in one of the booths, pecking out a note on his Blackberry, a plain manila envelope at his side.. He hit send and glanced up.
"Ah, there you are. On time. I like that. Sit."
Brick sat down.
" I ordered for you. Steak. A Salad. A Diet Coke."
Brick started to speak.
George stopped her. "I know. You think you want to protest. But you actually want to be told what to do. Don't you?"
Brick nodded wordlessly.
"Will you trust me?, " asked George.
Brick nodded again.
George smiled. "Then I think you've got email."
Brick extracted her Blackberry from her bag. The note George had been writing was to her.
"Brick, you are to follow my instructions to the letter. If you violate them, we just have a pleasant lunch and part ways. But that's not what you really want, is it?
Take the manila envelope and go to the ladies room. Inside you will find something that looks like a pager with a wire connecting to two odd contraptions, a silver egg and a plastic disc. You'll also find a little lubricant.
Put the egg into your cunt. Put the disc on your clit. Put the pager on your belt. And come back and put the empty envelope on the table."
She stared at George.
Once again he said, "Will you trust me?"
She headed off to the Ladies' Room.
She emerged five minutes later, placing the empty envelope at his elbow.
"I'm back," she said.
George looked up and smiled.
"Sit down and be comfortable."
George held something that looked like a car key fob in his hand. As she sat down, he pressed one of the buttons.
Brick gasped as felt the first vibrations. She glanced around to see if any of the other diners noticed, and then at George.
George spoke quietly. "That was level 1. We'll see if you make it to level 5."
Level 5? Brick was wondering what she had gotten herself into as the soft drinks arrived. She took a sip of the Diet Coke and swallowed it down just as George's fingers flicked to the buttons. She squirmed as the vibrations resonated with her now-throbbing pussy.
They made small talk about the weather, work and the latest movies. Or at least Brick thought she was making small talk. That thing--George--his fingers-- kept toying with her cunt. Her panties were now moist and she wondered if others could smell her sex.
As if he was reading her mind, George sniffed the air. "I do believe we're warming up, aren't we?" Brick nodded, hands clenching her drink. George was pulsing the buttons and she was very close to cumming.
The salads arrived, and George paused a bit. Her appetite had become intense, and she ate greedily, not knowing when George would start again.
"In fancy restaurants, they give a little sorbet to clear the palate. This is better, isn't it?"
George bumped the vibrations to Level 3 and gave her ten seconds of continuous stimulations. Brick could feel her eyelids begin to flutter.
"Oh no, not yet." Brick couldn't decide if she was angry or ecstatic, teetering on the edge of an orgasm in the middle of the now crowded restaurant. The scales tipped towards anger when George spotted an acquaintance and waved him over.
"Harry, great to see you!," said George. George introduced Brick and the two men exchanged pleasantries while George repeatedly pressed the buttons. Brick bit her lip to keep from cumming. Finally, Harry rejoined his lunch companion.
"You bastard," Brick fumed.
George cut her off. "Brick, when we're out socially, I own your pussy. You--and she--do what I let you --and she--do. Are we clear."
George turned the vibrations up to Level 4. He only had to push the button once.
"You...own...my...pussy." Brick's eyes were glazed.
"Eat your meat," George commanded.
Brick sliced into the steak, her surgeon hands swiftly cutting the strip into bite sized pieces.
As she chewed, George started to finger the buttons repeatedly.
Brick, ordinarily quite vocal, fought hard to keep quiet as her body shuddered with pleasure.
George filled in to diffuse attention. "Yes, the chef here does wonderful things with steak!"
Brick's breathing slowed and deepened, the glow from her orgasm fading.
"I'd order coffee, but you look like you can use a nap."
George called for and paid the check.
They walked together to the parking lot. George held the door for her as she got in the car.
"As I said, I know what you want. What you need. What you crave."
Brick nodded as George pushed the buttons again. Her pussy started to twitch.
"Drive safely. You have my permission to go home and play with your cunt and clit as much as you want. But remember, when we're together in public, you wear your toys and keep the receiver switched on. When we're together, I own you...and your cunt."
Brick nodded once more.
George turned away and walked to his car. As Brick started her engine, George sent one last pulse to her sopping cunt. She looked at him, and though she couldn't hear him, she felt him chuckle.
Saturday, late afternoon
Brick stretched, rolled over and looked at the clock. 5:15. She startled momentarily, then remembered that is was Saturday afternoon and not Monday morning and the events of the day.
She had driven home pushing the speed limit. Once there, she fed her ever-ravenous dog Manley, rushed up to her bedroom and tore off her clothes. The silent remote control toys were replaced with her favorite silver bullet toy as she stroked herself from one climax to the next fantasizing about George. Brick wanted to cup his butt in her hands, stroke his balls, take his cock in her mouth and tongue his slit. She wanted to slip a finger inside his ass, stroke his prostate and suck him until he exploded. She...
Brick had fallen asleep, and now awakened completely rested and relaxed, more than she had been in months. She stretched again, luxuriating for a few moments in the glow of the setting sun, before padding off to the shower.
Her thoughts danced as the water streamed down and off her skin. She wanted to hold him, but more than that, she wanted to look into his eyes, to talk to him...just the two of them, just for a little while. It wasn't the sex--not that she didn't want to be naked in his arms, cuddled and held strong--it was something deeper, even more primitive...
The shower turned cool, startling Brick into realizing that she had run the tank out of hot water. She wrapped a towel around her waist, and other around her hair and used a third to dry her breasts.
She noticed the red light flashing on her Blackberry. George had sent her a note...
"Brick...Hope you enjoyed lunch as much as I did and had a relaxing afternoon. I look forward to great times together. I'm a man of my word, and at the hospital I want to keep our relationship purely professional. I respect you too much to do differently. Socially, it's up to you where this goes. You have our toy. I have the controller. I can own your pussy, but only if and when you let me. Your call....G"
Brick read the note ...twice...and fell back on the bed. She felt the delicious tingle of arousal in her cunt, reached for her Blackberry, and started to write ...
"Dear George...I would not care if you were a salesman, a stockbroker or a special ed teacher. I want your arms around me. I do not want to make decisions. I want to surrender to you. I want to feel you around me, enveloping me, inside me. Do you understand? I want to not be the Dragon Lady. You are my Master, and I want to be your sub. I need this. I crave this....Brick"
Brick awoke at dawn, splashed some water on face and pulled on her workout clothes. For the first time in months, she felt wonderful. She had a purpose to her life outside of work and church...she had a Master! Sure, she would work out for herself, but she would also be working out for him. She wanted to be in shape, fit and strong when she was naked with him. She was still grinning when she pulled into the parking lot of the gym.
The cardio section was almost empty. She skipped the bikes, knowing that she had a spinning class coming up, and selected one of the tougher elliptical machines. She plugged in her headphones, and within moments found her groove. Beads of sweat formed and coalesced before trickling down. Her breathing deepened as she pushed harder, smiling to herself as she recalled the events of the previous day.
Except she wasn't just smiling to herself. About fifteen minutes into her session, Sara and Rachel had also come into the gym and had started on the machines on either side of Brick. As Brick started the cool down, she opened her eyes and looked around.
"Good morning, Sara! Good morning, Rachel! You two are here bright and early!"
Sara and Rachel glanced at each other. The last time they had seen the dragon lady, she had been spewing smoke and fire at Cleary's. Now, she had a silly grin on her face.
Brick chirped, "I'm going to sling some iron for a while, then off to church. Would you like to have lunch later? My treat."
Sara and Rachel exchanged a "she must have gotten laid" look.
Sara piped up, "Sure, but we have some shopping to do at the Short Hills mall later." She named a nearby restaurant. "How about we meet you there at 1 o'clock?"
"See you!" Brick bounced off to the free weights.
Rachel turned to Sara.
"Well, that's different."
"Yeah, someone must have slipped her some happy pills--or a fat dick."
"Speaking of sex, do you think it's occurred to Brick that we sleep together?"
"I doubt it. She's too busy operating to think about us in play clothes as opposed to scrubs."
"Were you planning on telling her precisely what we going shopping for?"
Sara's smile curled into a tiny smirk. "That depends on what happens at lunch, doesn't it?"
Later that afternoon
Sara and Rachel did a double take when they finally spotted Brick. Brick was wearing a pencil skirt, a simple VS top and a subtle gold-chain around her neck. She managed to look demure while radiating sex. It was a look Sara and Rachel had never seen at--or after--work.
Rachel remarked, "Wow, you do clean up nice!"
Forty-eight hours ago, Brick would have exploded. Her reply startled all three of them.
"Why thank you! The two of you also look great."
Sara couldn't stand it any longer. "Okay, out with it. What's his name?"
Brick blushed furiously and shook her head.
Rachel laughed throatily. "Brick, we haven't seen you this relaxed in..I don't know...ever. It's just nice to see you not breathing fire." She paused. "Let's order."
The three women chose soup and salad combinations and a triplet of Diet Cokes. The next table was sure there must have been rum in the drinks, because the by the end of the meal the three of them were laughing so hard that tears were running down their cheeks. Brick, good to her word, had slipped her credit card to the waitress before the other two arrived so a check never appeared. Sara and Rachel complained good-naturedly.
"Now we owe you," they moaned.
Sara winked at Rachel. "Want to come shopping with us?"
Brick shrugged and said, "Sure!"
The first stop was the most upscale lingerie store in the area. Sara's vice was fine silk underwear, and she had the body to carry it. She knew exactly what brand, exactly what size and even Brick had to admit that Sara looked incredibly hot.
"You look...unbelievable," said Brick. "I've never looked that good in a bra."
Rachel said, "Not possible. You're in better shape than the two of us put together."
"Have you ever been fitted...I mean professionally fitted?", asked Sara.