My Winning Bid

I wrote this last year, some of you may recognise it. I posted it on another blog I had tried, but I deleted the other blog to put it on my personal email rather than uni email. This was an idea I came up with not for “All woman power” but because I thought this is what the world may come to if silly people who have misunderstood the concept carry on the way they are. There has to be an equal balance in life. This is a short story, but I am considering making it an episodic styled story. If there is another piece I will write it. Let me know what you think.

*****

I found my heart set on him the moment I laid eyes on him. He was up for auction. Six foot five inches tall, forced into the gym every morning until late afternoon, and a healthy diet to support the body. He was magnificent, the auctioneer had clearly worked hard for this. He already had bids on him, a bidding prize … the added bonus, the winner got to name him.

£1000 my first bid. Click.

My computer is loading, a small swirling circle in the centre of my screen. It went black then my bid went through. Fabulous, I was allowed access to more photos. He has a sexy back, holds himself tall. His skin is dark caramel. I love it. His dark cropped like an army grunt, and his eyes what colour are his eyes? Are there no face shots?

My computer beeps, another bid has been made… Oh that cheeky girl, trying to outbid me, like anyone could. I’ll show them. This man is mine.

£2000 my second bid. Click.

Ah, face pictures. Yes. Awe, look at those cheek bones, and that strong square jawline. Wow, this man is gorgeous, his eyes are a dark ocean blue, so deep. This man has seen many things, the soul in his eyes echoing as eternal and powerful as the ocean. How old is this man? I am young and inexperienced; I need my first pick to wow all the girls in school. A man with experience.

My computer beeps again. Now this is getting interesting, he is a valuable prize. I will not let anyone else have this prize now. Lucky, this is a birthday gift, if this wasn’t my birthday I would have missed this beautiful opportunity…

£3000 my third bid. Click.

Hmm… his history? Interesting, he is twenty-five years old, was sent to the men’s institution of Cambridge. Lovely, how nice, so he is educated. Oh he is sporty too, was party of rugby team and he used to be part of a wall climbing group. Nice tattoo, a dragon on his back.

My computer beeps AGAIN. Come on, stop bidding, £3000 is a lot for a guy! Maybe I should stop… No way, this guy is the one I want. No way am I missing out on this. I can still go on for another couple of bids. Bitches won’t get my prize.

£4000 my fourth bid. Click. Hopefully this will cut off their chances.

Hm… he is rebellious; he has refused to perform when asked… This is interesting history… he has tried to escape numerous times. So he doesn’t like to be dominated huh? That just makes him juicier. This is my first bid, he might be tough to break, I can feel my teeth puncturing my lip, and the taste of iron sweeping over my tongue. Another beep.

£5000 my last bid. Click. This is it, If I don’t win him now then it is over.

Beep, beep, beep. Oh god, that was such a fast line of beeps. Do I even bother checking my screen now…? Argh, Let’s have a look at this abomination… I-I… I did it? Oh my god I did it! I won the bid. I have him! I run down the stairs, the adrenalin pumping through my veins. This strange high made me run down screaming excitedly at my mum. Who was currently telling her winning bid to sit with her in the living room on the couch.

The winning bid is my father, my mother’s favourite. I leap into my mother’s arms.

“I did it! I won my first bid!” I felt her wrap her arms around me, laughing at my joy.

“Well done honey! I am so happy for you! What is he like?” She asked me. I bite my lip and wince. I had unintentionally bitten into my lip.

“Does tall, dark, and handsome count as a good description?” I asked her nervously.

“Sounds very knightly, I love it, let’s clean you up before we go, your lip is bleeding” she laughed. “Favourite, pass me the first aid”. My mother’s winning bid did as he was asked without any complaints.

Soon we were on the road, heading towards the auctioneer’s warehouse. The money already transferred into the auction pockets. I pat at my cheeks and pucker my scabby lips, I want to look at least a little pretty considering how nice this many looked on my computer screen.

At the warehouse, it was in the middle of the city, women rushing here and there having their winning bids carry all of their shopping. We had parked in one of the major parking complexes required for charging up our cars.

We enter the warehouse, my heart pounding so loud it cancelled out every sound around me. I wanted this so much, I had been told about it by my mother, and her friends, by my sisters and their friends… I was the youngest and had to watch what felt like the longest before making my first ever bid. We were taken to a small office looking room with two doors and a relatively large woman sitting at the desk. She was large, and blubbery, with sausage fingers, and marshmallow legs in her way too tight skirt.

“Welcome, I believe you are my special lucky winner” She emphasised the word special, like I was the best thing to come through her door. “Not many people would have bid and kept that bid after finding out such history” she added. I cringed my mother would probably start to worry.

“What kind of history?” my mother questioned.

“It excites me, now I want my bid” I said, keeping my voice even I couldn’t afford my mum cancelling the whole thing off.  The auctioneer squealed with excitement, grabbed her door and shouted out to bring the winner. Then he came in, his ocean eyes. My new winning bid.

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