The Pact
A Mischief Erotica Collection
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
www.harpercollins.co.uk
This collection is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
Mischief
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
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London SE1 9GF
www.mischiefbooks.com
An eBook Original 2016
1
Girl of a Thousand Positions © Rose de Fer
Mirror Mirror © Ashley Hind
Five Card Stud © Heather Towne
I Dare You © Lily Harlem
Motivation © Justine Elyot
Living for May Day © Kathleen Tudor
The Exception © Giselle Renarde
Into the Blue © Willow Sears
The authors assert the moral right to be identified as the authors of this work.
Picture credit: Shutterstock
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EBook Edition © 2016 ISBN: 9780008190194
Version: 2016-03-23
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Girl of a Thousand Positions
Mirror Mirror
Five Card Stud
I Dare You
Motivation
Living for May Day
The Exception
Into the Blue
About the Publisher
Girl of a Thousand Positions
Rose de Fer
‘I want you to promise me two things.’
Alice finished her tea and set the cup down. ‘Anything, Lili. You know you don’t even need to ask.’
The old lady smiled, her wrinkled face not diminishing the beauty she had clearly once possessed. There was still something of a youthful sparkle in her eyes. Alice often found it hard to believe that her great-grandmother was nearly a century old. She looked twenty years younger at least.
‘First thing,’ Lili said. ‘You must promise me that you’ll make the most of your inheritance.’
Alice winced. ‘Oh Lili, I don’t like to think about that. I don’t want to imagine you not being here and I don’t care if you leave me anything at all.’
Lili held up one graceful, pale hand and continued as though she hadn’t been interrupted. ‘You must use it as it was intended to be used. Promise me.’
‘Very well, I promise.’
‘And the second thing. I want the world to remember me as I was. Don’t let me be forgotten.’
Alice wilted with relief. ‘Please! I bore everyone rigid with stories about you and your days in Hollywood. I post pictures and clips of your old movies on Facebook and Twitter all the time. There’s no way you’ll ever be forgotten.’
Lili was smiling, a funny, cryptic little smile. ‘That’s good,’ she said. For a moment it seemed like she wanted to add something else, but then she just patted Alice’s hand. ‘I knew I could trust you. You’re a good girl. I know you’ll keep your word.’
There was something in the gravity of Lili’s tone that puzzled Alice. She narrowed her eyes. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’
Lili shook her head. ‘Nothing that won’t ultimately delight you,’ she said. ‘You may be surprised, but I know you’ll understand. Now, how about another cup of tea?’
Alice was desperately curious to know what the big secret was, but it was clear that was to be the last word on the subject. She knew any further questions would only earn her a knowing smile, but no more information. Not that it mattered; she’d made a promise and she would keep it.
Whatever it was.
‘Well, I guess that’s all of it,’ Alice said, looking around at the scattering of crates and boxes. All afternoon she’d helped the executor, a dark-eyed, dark-haired man named Jake Harmon, sort through her great-grandmother’s belongings, first finding and then boxing up the things Lili had wanted to go to charities, and the things going to distant relatives. The house itself had been bequeathed to Alice.
‘OK,’ Jake said, his voice tinged with sadness. ‘I’ll tell the movers they can take it away tomorrow.’
Alice nodded and wandered back into the hallway, where a procession of glamorous photographs of Lili hung. Black and white stills of her at the height of her youth and beauty. Here she was in a line of dancing girls with finger waves and high-kicking legs. Here she was in the arms of some silent-movie hero. Here she was in her first talkie, as a black-veiled femme fatale, smiling sexily as she clasped a revolver in one gloved and bejewelled hand.
Remember me as I was.
Alice would make sure of it. But why had Lili been so cryptic about it? And how was Alice supposed to ‘make the most of’ the house if Lili was no longer in it? Now it was just a collection of empty rooms, each one haunted by memories.
‘You’re really going to miss her, aren’t you?’
Alice scrubbed away a tear as Jake appeared behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. All day they’d been in close contact, stumbling over each other and getting in each other’s way as they cleared the house – Alice’s house, she reminded herself – of the things Lili had left to others. It wasn’t much, but it had still been hard work. Jake’s presence had been a welcome distraction, though, and Alice had found herself inexplicably drawn to him. Of course it could simply be that he was exactly her type – lean and toned, dark and broodingly handsome, with vintage good looks. She could almost imagine Lili had hand-picked him for just that reason.
‘Lili was my best friend,’ Alice told him. ‘She was my hero.’
Jake gazed at the photos on the wall, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. ‘You look like her, you know.’
‘I wish!’
‘I’m serious.’ He took one down – a classic 20s glamour shot – and held it up to Alice’s face to compare the two. ‘See? I was right. Change the hair and make-up and you could be her.’
Alice snatched the photo away and looked into the eyes of a Lili her own age. Jake was right. The resemblance was striking. How had she never noticed it before? She felt intensely flattered.
‘So she was an actress?’
‘Yeah. A proper Old Hollywood star. Mostly silent films, but a few talkies later on in the 30s and 40s.’
‘Lili Wessex. Hmm. How come I’ve never heard of her?’
‘She never really got the break she deserved. She always claimed it’s because she wasn’t much of an actress, but I’ve seen loads of her films and she’s fantastic. Every bit as good as Louise Brooks or Greta Garbo or any of the big stars of the time.’
They were both silent for a while as they admired the photos. Alice stole a look at Jake when he didn’t know he was being watched. He really was attractive. She hadn’t had a boyfriend in two years and she supposed it was loneliness that made her venture a suggestion. ‘Would you like to watch one of her films? With me?’
Jake
smiled as though he’d been wishing, but not daring to hope, that Alice would ask. ‘I’d love that,’ he said.
‘She left me the house, and that includes my favourite room.’
Jake looked intrigued and Alice was happy to be able to play the cryptic one for a change. She took him by the hand and led him to a door at the end of the corridor. His face was a picture as she unlocked and opened it to show him a tiny private cinema, complete with antique projector. A shelf of film canisters lined the back wall.
‘This is amazing,’ Jake said, looking genuinely excited. ‘Do you know, I’ve only ever seen one silent movie in my life.’
‘Which one?’
‘Phantom of the Opera, with Lon Chaney.’
‘Oh, Lili loved him! She got to work with him once. She said he was a real gentleman. But he never went out. Apparently he hated the whole Hollywood lifestyle and … what’s that?’
Jake turned to see what she was looking at and shrugged. ‘I have no idea. I’ve never been in here, remember?’
Sitting in front of the curtained screen was a large cardboard box. There was no writing on the outside, but an envelope was taped to the top. Alice’s name was written there, in Lili’s hand.
‘That’s funny,’ Alice said. She removed the envelope and fingered the flowery lettering.
Jake smiled. ‘Well, aren’t you going to open it?’
She tore the envelope open and withdrew a sheet of paper.
‘Dearest Alice,’ she read aloud, ‘this is the Real Me. This is my true legacy. Remember your promise.’
She raised her eyes from the note to stare at Jake in bewilderment. But only for a moment. Then she was tearing open the box.
‘What the hell …?’
It was filled with film cans.
‘“My true legacy”,’ Jake echoed. ‘Are they lost films?’
‘They must be. She made me promise to … we made a sort of pact and … I just can’t believe this.’
Alice picked up one of the canisters and read the faded label, scrawled in old-fashioned handwriting. ‘Good-Time Girl. I’ve never heard of it, but then I’m no expert on silent films.’
She put it aside and took out another. Then another. The canisters were smaller than the ones on the back wall. ‘Deleted scenes?’ she wondered aloud. ‘Or maybe they’re just shorts.’
Jake read out the titles. ‘A Choice Bit of Calico. Bootleg Betty. What the Chambermaid Saw.’
Alice shook her head in disbelief. ‘Why didn’t she ever show me these? She must have known I’d want to see them.’
‘Well, she obviously wants you to see them now. Let’s put one on.’
Alice picked up the topmost can and carefully removed the film reel. She threaded it through the projector and turned it on.
She and Jake made themselves comfortable in the plush cinema chairs as the grainy film stuttered into life on the screen. After some spots and pops and scratches, a jittery title card came up: ‘WHAT THE CHAMBERMAID SAW’.
An elegant couple strolled along a street with vintage cars moving silently in the background. An intertitle introduced them as Mr and Mrs Pinkering. Their movements seemed comically speeded up and Alice giggled in anticipation of some Chaplinesque pratfall. But a clumsy splice made the film jump directly to the pair’s bedroom, where they began to undress.
It looked like the work of an amateur, but the director clearly had artistic aspirations, as the camera panned back and through a dark tunnel that revealed itself to be a keyhole. The classic voyeur’s point of view. The couple were now in their underclothes and Alice was surprised at just how much of Mrs Pinkering was on display. Her nipples were clearly visible beneath her thin shift.
Then the shot cut to the spying chambermaid and Alice gasped in delight at the familiar face. ‘It’s Lili!’
Then she gasped again as she realised what the chambermaid was doing. One hand had vanished beneath her short, frilly skirt and the camera zoomed in to show it moving deep inside her vintage bloomers. Alice blushed to the roots of her hair as the realisation of Lili’s secret hit her like a bomb.
‘Oh, my God,’ she whispered.
Jake looked just as shocked. He had slid down in his seat and was doing his best to stifle a grin. When Alice met his eyes, they both burst into helpless laughter.
‘I guess that would explain why she wasn’t welcome in mainstream Hollywood,’ Jake said.
Alice nodded. She was shocked, certainly, but not offended. That her great-grandmother had been a vintage porn star was perfectly in keeping with the woman’s feisty personality.
The film was really getting interesting now. Mrs Pinkering was pointing at the camera, at the keyhole, and there was a campy reaction shot of the naughty chambermaid as the door was flung open by Mr Pinkering. In case his outrage was in question, a helpful intertitle appeared: ‘BAD GIRL!’
The man dragged the protesting maid inside and it was obvious what was about to happen. Alice squirmed in her seat. Part of her desperately wanted to shut off the film and finish watching it – and all the others – later, by herself. But she glanced sidelong at her companion, who looked every bit as aroused as he was fascinated, and decided it would be more fun to watch it with an audience.
‘PLEASE, SIR! MADAM! I AM SORRY!’
But Mr Pinkering wasn’t having any of it. He pulled the protesting girl over his knee and began to spank her. Lili kicked and struggled so much that Mrs Pinkering felt obliged to take hold of her wrists and hold her still.
The embarrassment was exquisite. Alice had never felt such powerful empathy with a film character in her life. That was her own flesh and blood up there, her closest and most beloved relative. It was as though a part of Alice herself was on-screen.
The camera zoomed in to show Lili’s wriggling bottom as her angry master flipped up her skirt and pulled her bloomers down to her knees. It was clear from the darker colouring of Lili’s cheeks that there was no fakery, and Alice suspected that her kicks and cries were every bit as real.
‘OWW! OH! SIR, PLEASE!’ Lili yelped and pleaded in histrionic capitals while the action continued in silence. Alice’s mind provided the soundtrack. She winced in sympathy with every slap and smack, and her own bottom began to tingle as Lili’s grew redder and redder. Well, darker grey anyway.
When Alice didn’t think she – or Lili – could take any more, the spanking stopped. Now Mr Pinkering was stroking the maid’s poor punished bottom, cooing to her in silly intertitles. His rubbing became more lascivious as Lili wriggled about on his knee. Mrs Pinkering was soon joining in, and then the kinky couple had their naughty maid on the bed and were undressing her completely.
Alice pressed her hands against her burning face as she watched her great-grandmother stripped naked. She was beautiful, with a body to match. She raised her long dancer’s legs in the air and parted them to reveal her sex, thatched with pale hair that she must have dyed to match the hair on her head. The camera pushed in for a good view of her pussy as the Pinkerings caressed and stroked her. Mrs Pinkering kissed the dewy little slit, flicking her tongue over Lili’s clit while Mr Pinkering played with her breasts, pinching and teasing her nipples into erect peaks.
The title writer had stopped intruding now that there was no need to explain the plot or elucidate dialogue. Alice didn’t need any help to imagine Lili’s moans and gasps as both master and mistress toyed with her. Lili was astonishingly flexible, a talent they exploited fully, putting her in a variety of different positions while they sucked and fucked her. Alice had inherited some of that flexibility, but nowhere near as much as she’d have liked once she saw its full potential in Lili.
Her panties were soaked by the time the reel clattered to a halt and the loose end of the filmstrip whipped against the projector. She hurriedly went to turn it off. Her hands shook as she removed it and placed it carefully back in its canister. She was still blushing so hard she didn’t think she could face her guest. He hadn’t said a word since the real action had begun.
‘Well,’ she said at last, just to say something. Anything.
Jake got unsteadily to his feet and Alice couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his trousers. He cleared his throat and met her eyes with a sheepish grin. ‘That was … quite something.’
Alice could only nod. Silence spooled out between them like a dropped reel of film. When they finally spoke, they did so in unison.
‘Would you like to—’
‘Maybe we could—’
Alice laughed. ‘You first.’
He smiled. ‘I was going to suggest a double bill.’
Alice returned his smile, relieved and excited. ‘So was I. It was Lili’s final wish, after all. Make the most of my inheritance. That’s what she made me promise. She said not to let her be forgotten.’
‘I can guarantee I’ll never forget that,’ Jake said.
‘Me either.’
They both looked back at the open box, a treasure trove of secret delights.
One by one, they took out all the film cans. There were 47 in all. Alice’s heart swelled with pride at the body of work, at Lili’s obvious pride in preserving them. These probably weren’t even all she had made. Surely other people – directors, producers, actors, collectors – must have some as well. Maybe there was even a preservation society for films like Lili’s.
All the titles were intriguing, but some of the slang expressions were downright mystifying.
‘What the hell is a “bearcat”?’ Alice said, squinting at the handwriting on a peeling label. ‘Or a “floorflusher” for that matter?’
Jake shook his head with a laugh. ‘I’m sure they’d have been just as confused by our terms. Hey, I like the look of this one: Molls and Dolls.’
Alice had to laugh. Guys hadn’t changed in a hundred years. ‘Sounds good,’ she said, taking the canister from him. She threaded the film through the projector and they resumed their seats as it began.
Two flappers laden with shopping bags and hatboxes were giggling outside a shop window displaying Roaring Twenties fashions. The blonde was Lili. She didn’t really have the boyish figure for the fringed dress and ropes of pearls she wore. Her breasts were rather larger than most women’s of the period. But, of course, the audience for these particular films wouldn’t have been too concerned with how fashionable the actresses looked wearing clothes. From what Alice had seen of her naked, Lili would still be a hit today.
The Pact Page 1
