The Haunted Sultan (Skeleton Key) Read Free Page A

intimate look at what made Sierra tick. She had designed them herself and found the perfect artist to implement the art for her. She had saved up her money for over a year and it took almost ten sessions to finish. The intricate combination of hibiscus and Middle Eastern inspired montage that went from her hip to underneath her left breast was on full display and her sleeve, full of pin-ups and swirling patterns, was enhanced by the fall of the thin fabric and hanging metal straps of the costume. Looking in the mirror, the costume enhanced her art, as if it was designed for her and her look. The shopkeeper was right; this was the one for her, eerily so.
    The costume was made for her. The bodice fit perfectly, something that surprised Sierra. It was technically a bra and it was quite a feat to get the exact cup size for this kind of fit perfection. She wished she had this kind of fit from one of her everyday bras. The bodice pushed up her tatas, showing off cleavage she didn’t know she had.
    Aside from the bodice, embellished with twisted wire pieces and shiny mirror beads, there was a filmy, opaque skirt held together with a wide belt. The belt was beaded to match the bodice and barely covered her underwear. By some act of luck she hadn’t worn a thong, going for a wide bottomed pair of red bikinis. She couldn’t have worn a better pair of undergarments to match the outfit. It was again almost too convenient.
    “Wow, you’ve got to get this one. It’s like it was made for you,” Cecilia breathed checking out her friend.
    “Does it have a price tag?” Sierra whispered but Cecilia shook her head and shrugged.
    “It’ll probably cost a fortune.” Sierra went to slip her tie up wedges back on her feet, but realized they would look out of place, so she walked out of the changing room barefoot.
    “ C'est magnifique! ” the shopkeeper exclaimed when Sierra shyly crept back into the shop. The woman handed her a pair of gold sandals. Sierra slipped them onto her feet, and what would you know, they fit perfectly.
    How does she know my size? Sierra thought looking at the woman warily.
    “Yes, it’s wonderful, but how much?” Sierra asked the woman, cringing at her tactless words. They were rather rude but she was waiting for the big oh shit price. This costume was like a work of art.
    “This piece was made for you, ma douce papillon! I could no sooner charge you for it, than charge myself. You take it and wear it and you pay me with one favor. A tiny little favor. Nothing more.”
    “A favor? What do you mean?” Sierra asked guardedly.
    “Just a simple little promise, nothing more. Then the costume is yours,” she said, her smile never wavering.
    “Okay, but what is the promise? I don’t know if I can do anything for you, I’m just a college student, I don’t have much…”
    “Nothing really.” She spread her hands in an ‘it’s nothing’ manner. “Just simply help someone who asks. You’ll hear a plea for help. If you accept the exchange, I will ask that you respond. Do not walk away. Go with the one who hears it with you and you two shall surely succeed.”
    “What do you mean?” Sierra asked the woman, confusion apparent on her face.
    The shopkeeper frowned and looked down at Sierra, who now looked like an Arabian princess in her new costume.
    “ Bah , ça va bien aller. Simply respond to a plea of help. Nothing more. Nothing less.” She patted Sierra on the arm as if to reinforce her words, even though Sierra was still trying to translate the French. It is good? Is that what she said? Her French was pathetic.
    “How do you know someone will ask for my help?” Sierra asked, deciding to go with it. How else would she get a free costume that looked so hot? She had the worrying thought that this might be a scam. Would someone later approach her and ask for her help and then she would wake up in a bathtub missing a kidney?
    How would this woman even know if she responded to a cry for help? If