“Ah, yes, I nearly forgot to tell you, my dear, that your new gentleman has a special abhorrence of rouge, lipstick and face powder. He prefers nature in the raw. So you may abstain from employing your usual artifices on the occasion of his visits.”
I nodded my head in assent. My mind was still floundering in a maze of contradictory whys and wherefores.
“Can you tell me, please, just what that man expects of me?”
“My girl, I haven't the slightest idea. But I don't doubt he'll treat you kindly. Men of his age often have very curious whims and ideas. My experience is that it's profitable to cater to them. Use your brains; find what pleases him, and act accordingly. If the screwy old fool thinks he has found a fifteen-year-old innocent running around naked in a whorehouse don't destroy his illusion. It will pay dividends. But remember this: he made the proposition himself that he would respect your alleged purity and right now he intends to live up to it. But if he runs true to form, before very long he'll be itching to get his pecker between your legs. And after he's fucked you two or three times it will be good-bye Mr. Heely. Now I'm only speaking in the light of experience. There are exceptions to every rule, and he might be one of them. So use your brains, girl, use your brains. This is your chance to show what you can do.”
At eight o'clock I bathed preparatory to dressing for the evening. One of the pretty little black frocks was laid out on the bed waiting for me, together with the childish underwear, the silk hose and the patent leather pumps.
Having a little time to spare I decided to get out a jar of depilatory cream I had bought that day with the idea of using it in preference to a razor. To my great satisfaction it removed the hair thoroughly and easily without leaving the suggestion of a stubble which, try as I might, I had not been able to eliminate entirely with a safety razor.
The pubic mound and the sides of my cunny felt as smooth and velvety to the touch as a baby's skin. According to the information which accompanied the preparation, hair would not reappear for some time as it was destroyed clear down to the roots. This would be a great convenience, as the task of shaving frequently was growing irksome.
When Mr. Heely appeared promptly at the specified hour of ten, I was all ready for him, waiting demurely in my room, dressed in a little girl's silk frock which barely reached my knees, my hair neatly combed back and tied with a ribbon, and my face sedately free of any artificial coloring or embellishment. There had been much giggling and laughter when earlier in the evening I had paraded this ensemble before the eyes of my companions. Even Madame Lafronde had laughed.
In one hand Mr. Heely carried a large bouquet of beautiful hothouse flowers, in the other a square package containing a box of delicious candied fruit confections. I thanked him for his gifts, took his hat and coat, and arranged the flowers on my little table.
What should I say to him? What should I do? The thoughts buzzed in my head as I toyed with the flowers to gain time to decide, and ended by doing nothing except sitting down before him to wait for him to begin a conversation.
Considering our previous speculations and Hester's suppositions the visit simmered down to what constituted almost ludicrous simplicity and naivete. Mr. Heely did absolutely nothing more than sit in my room and talk, for the most part on generalized subjects, departing from these orthodox themes only now and then to pass compliments upon my appearance and conduct in his dignified, courtly way. He manifested pleasure at the good taste with which my wardrobe had been selected, and seemed to feel that I was now dressed in a seemly and befitting manner. He stayed for about two hours.
When he arose to go, he took my hand and pressed a kiss lightly upon the back of it. As he lowered it a folded bank note was resting in my palm. I did not want to look at it in his presence, so did not know until after he had gone the value of it. Before bidding me good-night he said:
“May I have the pleasure of calling upon you again next Friday, my dear?”
“Certainly, Mr. Heely, I'll be very happy to have you,” I replied.
Not until the door had closed behind him did I straighten out the folded piece of currency. Before my surprised sight was a five-pound note. I could hardly believe my eyes. Surely the good old man was out of his mind.
Straightway I rushed to find Madame Lafronde, laid the money before her and told her exactly what had transpired. She listened, smiling cynically, and pushed it back toward me.
“It's yours, girl. I've already gotten mine. Take it if you want to spend it. If you don't I'll put it away for you.”
“All of it?” I gasped.
“Certainly. Now just use your head, girl, and there'll be plenty more where that comes from. I'll get my share, and you may keep all you get from him. Wait a moment…” she called, as I turned to leave after thanking her, “here's some more advice for you. Don't brag about your good fortune to the other girls. Keep it to yourself. That old green-eyed monster is always lurking around, waiting for a chance to make trouble. Don't tell others things that will make them envy you.”
How deeply these words struck home could only be guessed by one familiar with the circumstances of my past disgrace which had come about under the very conditions against which she was now warning me. Then and there I resolved to keep such good fortune as might come my way carefully hidden from envious eyes in the future.
As far as Mr. Heely was concerned, I ceased for the moment to bother my head with trying to fathom his purposes. If he was willing to pay me five pounds for dressing up like a doll and listening to him for a couple of hours I had no reason for complaint. Both Hester and Madame Lafronde were of the opinion that he would eventually want to do something besides talk, and in this they were right in a sense, but his conduct never degenerated into anything of an obnoxious nature.
Indeed, his ingeniousness was almost pathetic, and I often felt a twingle of conscience at the imposition which was being practiced upon him. But I salved it with the thought that it would be more painful to him to be disillusioned than to be deceived. He derived a certain happiness from the strange association, and it doubtless filled some lonely space in his heart.
On his second visit he asked permission to sit on a cushion at my feet, a request which was of course granted, although for the moment I was mystified. A bit later the circumstance of the extremely short dress flashed over me and the suspicion which it engendered was verified when I observed an occasional covert glance being directed between my legs.
From this time on I was more careless as to how I sat, but even in this the kindly old gentleman had frustrated his own wishes by having provided me with panties which were so substantially made as to constitute an effectual barrier to the eye.
Slowly but progressively his familiarities advanced as the visits continued. The sitting on a cushion before my knees reminded me of Hester's predictions. It brought his face conveniently close, and I wondered… but nothing came of it. Later, he came to seating me on his lap. This provided me with an opportunity to satisfy my curiosity on another point which I had not been able to determine.
Masculine wearing apparel of present times is deficient in one particular. It is prone to reveal in a rather frank manner a certain physical condition to which men are at times subject, one which does not, on such occasions, escape the observant feminine eye. I had never noticed this condition in Mr. Heely, a circumstance which intrigued my curiosity.
Furthermore, his continued liberality was beginning to inspire me with a desire to show my gratitude in some form. It stood to reason there was something he wanted, some inner wish which perhaps he himself had not fully defined, or else was too timid and reticent to express.
And so, partly to satisfy my own curiosity, and partly actuated by a really unselfish wish to give him something in return for his generosity, I decided to encourage him a little more actively, even though this was contrary to Madame Lafronde's counsel.
It was very difficult to convince myself that he was taking this farcical “make-believe-lady” comedy seriously. How could he possibly think I was chaste and innocent, living as I was in a house of prostitution and associating with harlots? It hardly seemed possible that a man of his age and experience could be so credulous.
Surely he was, like myself, just pretending, and finding in the pretense some peculiar psychic compensation beyond my comprehension.
