him into something his father would be proud of. Maybe I made a mistake somewhere along the line, but Peter in fact turned into a great disappointment to his father. He ended up a dreamer, interested only in art, literature, and study, which was not at all what his father wanted. I believe that Peter simply received the wrong combination of genetic traits from the two of us, but his father blames me. He has made it very plain that if, by his twenty-first birthday, Peter has not changed or redeemed himself, I will suffer for it. I am not concerned for myself, though I should be. He is very powerful, and could make my life a horror if he truly wanted to. It's Peter I'm worried about, because his father would surely repudiate him if he cannot please him. And what would become of him if I am not able to protect him I cannot bear to think about."
Throughout, Clarrisa had been careful to maintain her mask of casual superiority, but Shasta noticed that as she talked her voice steadily became quieter and more somber, as her true feelings showed themselves. Shasta understood that she loved her son deeply and that she would do whatever she felt necessary to keep him secure.
Still: "I'm very sorry for you and Peter, but I still don't understand how any of this involves me."
Perhaps it was because Shasta had expressed sympathy for her problem, but when Clarrisa continued her voice had become firmer and lighter. "As I said, Peter can redeem himself, but to do so he must provide an heir of his own. The problem has been Peter's lack of experience. Oh, he likes girls well enough, fascinated by them in fact. But he hasn't shown the slightest interest in making love to any of the women I have presented to him. That's why I'm hoping you will be able to, shall we say, spark his interest."
Shasta got a cold feeling in the pit of her abdomen. "I see. And you want me to get him to impregnate me."
Clarrisa burst out laughing, so hard it took her a few moments to catch her breath. "Good heavens, my dear! No, no, I have a much more suitable girl in mind for that."
That's certainly a relief. "But if you don't want me to become pregnant, then why do you want me to seduce him?"
"My dear, haven't you been listening? My son cannot make any woman pregnant because he doesn't know how. I need you to be a surrogate. I want you to show him how it's done, to initiate him in the pleasures of the flesh."
"So to speak."
"Quite so. Will you do it?"
She noticed a pleading quality to her eyes that no amount of self-control could hide, but it might have been purposeful. The expression reminded her of a basset hound she had when she was a little girl. Actually, Clarrisa need not have used the big, sad, soulful eyes routine, because Shasta suddenly found the whole idea very attractive. She always wondered what it would be like to be in total control, giving instructions instead of receiving them. And she found the challenge inspiring, even more so than the money. She had become so enamored in fact that she only peripherally entertained the question of why Clarrisa wanted to hire a prostitute instead of a professional sex surrogate. She decided that it really didn't matter, so long as she could do the job herself.
"Yes, I'll do it." She nodded her head, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "In fact, it sounds like it would be grand fun."
Clarrisa seemed to visibly relax, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Excellent. Then let's get started; we haven't much time. Stand up."
Shasta did so. Clarrisa stood herself, then took Shasta's hands and positioned her a short distance away from the table.
"Take off your clothes."
Shasta felt her jaw drop as her eyes popped out. "Here? Now?"
"Yes, yes!" She made an impatient gesture. "I want to see if you are stimulating enough."
Shasta felt her cheeks and neck grow warm as she blushed, feeling uncomfortable. "Ah, no, I think it would be better if I undressed in front of him; more erotic that way."
"But you don't understand, I've shown him pictures of naked women and he has been suitably aroused each time, but any woman he has met personally has been fully clothed. I don't believe he's made the connection between the two images."
"Oh, now, wait a minute. That's ridiculous, unless he's a simpleton or something."
Clarrisa's expression turned cold and she gripped Shasta's left upper arm hard enough to hurt. When she spoke, her voice had an edge to it sharp enough to draw blood. "My son has an IQ of 280, but he is incredibly naive about many basic things." Her tone then turned commanding. "As I've said, we haven't much time, so do as I say." And she released Shasta with a slight push.
There had been times in her life when Shasta had been physically scared, but even when in the clutches of a sadistic client she had always managed to remain calm and in control. Clarrisa's sudden change in manner terrified her in a way no physical threat ever had and it left her delirious. She hastily complied as Clarrisa scrutinized her in a critical manner. It didn't take her long. All she had been wearing was a tube-top and a pair of short-shorts, with no underwear or hose. She even removed her knee-high boots, though she didn't know why. She just instinctively felt that Clarrisa had demanded she denude herself completely. Only after she finally stepped away from her tiny pile of clothes did she remember the nook was enclosed on three sides by glass. The alcove and its contents would be clearly visible to anyone outside, and the fact that the mansion stood alone in the country over twelve miles outside of Denver did not prevent her arms from reflexively covering herself.
With her face a stony mask, Clarrisa circled Shasta as if she examined a priceless statue. When she came back around in front of her, however, she smiled, though still somewhat coldly. She stepped up closer and gently pulled Shasta's arms down to her sides. Then she laid the fingertips of both hands on her shoulders. Slowly she traced a line down around the outsides of her voluminous breasts, across her stomach, and then along the edges of her hips, before dropping off her thighs. Finally she stepped back and grinned.
"Fantastic!" She seemed to gush with excitement. "Absolutely fantastic. My son won't be able to keep his hands off you."
Shasta didn't believe she really wanted to go through with the whole affair anymore. Clarrisa's rage, coming as it did so quickly after her seeming implorations, had thoroughly unnerved her, and her subsequent examination of her body hadn't restored her confidence. But considering her present condition, she felt she had gone too far to back out. Besides, she suddenly realized that the thought of what Clarrisa might do to her if she tried terrorized her.
She shivered, despite the warmth of the room, and Clarrisa turned and walked briskly to a cabinet set into the interior wall. Opening it, she pulled out a floor-length red satin robe and took it back to Shasta, holding it out to her. She accepted it and quickly put it on, grateful for some slight protection at least.
Clarrisa focused on her head. "Oh, let your hair down."
Shasta reached up and pulled out the pins holding her tresses in place, handing them to Clarrisa. The soft, honey-gold mass dropped to the middle of her back and over her shoulders. Clarrisa actually yelped with joy and clasped the sides of her face. "Absolutely fantastic! My son loves blond hair."
Despite her dread, Shasta couldn't help smiling herself. Clarrisa's enthusiasm was infectious. And it had the affect of making her feel more comfortable.
Clarrisa took hold of Shasta's right wrist, gently but firmly. "All right, then, come on. Let's get this show on the road." And she began towing her out of the room.
Taken by surprise, Shasta nearly lost her balance. When she regained it she then began resisting slightly, pulling back and dragging her feet. "Wait, what about my things?"
Clarrisa didn't stop, but turned her head and gave her an irritated look. "Oh, for heaven's sake, leave them. You'll get them back when you're finished, so don't worry, I'll take good care of them. Now come on!" She quickened her pace and pulled all the harder.
Shasta continued to resist at first, but had to quicken her pace into a trot to keep up. The two women made their way to the stair hall, then climbed the grand staircase to the second floor. T
he hardwood floors on the first story and the marble steps were chilly on the soles of her feet and the rapid staccato of Clarrisa's heels made her worry about getting her toes stepped on, but the carpeting at the second story landing felt comfortably warm, and it muffled the clack of the heels.
Coming in March.
From "Survival & Sacrifice"
"Hey! Stop hoggin' the mirror, ya butthead!"
Eile stood beside Sunny in front of the bathroom's small vanity. It really had been designed to be used by just one person, so both of them together made it somewhat crowded, and Sunny's huge mane of gamboge hair didn't help matters any, either. Then again, the rooms in the suites on the third story of Differel's ancestral manor were rather small to begin with, pretty much comfortable only for single persons. She and Sunny normally didn't mind, because they enjoyed the intimacy, but there were times when it became bothersome.
Like when they were in a hurry and trying to put on makeup at the same time.
They were visiting Differel and Henry for a few days, and the aristocrat had decided to throw an impromptu semi-formal dinner party. They had spent the whole afternoon shopping for new clothes in King's Lynn and nearly didn't make it back in time. They rushed through a shower together and threw on their new threads, with just barely enough time to make themselves
The Adventure of the Jigsaw Dragon Page 15
