Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“My, my—you killed all five, single-handed?” Lady Twa’linda looked the big Monstrum up and down. “That is impressive. I must say my dear, you’re well protected,” she said to Lucy.
“Thank you. Yes, I am.” Lucy nodded in agreement. “But I’m afraid the, er, attack which was foiled by my manservant has left me in a pretty bad state. I’m certainly not fit to have a formal dinner in these clothes.” She motioned to her ruined sweater and rumpled skirt.
“Nonsense my dear! Why, we’ll fix you right up,” Lady Twa’linda said comfortingly. She seemed to be over her anger and distress because she promptly sat back down on the well-cushioned throne and clapped her hands. “Guards! Send for my seamstress and be certain she brings a good array of colors for my guest to choose from.”
“Er, forgive me, Lady Twa’linda, but are you going to have your seamstress make me a new outfit right here and now?” Lucy asked, frowning. “I mean, won’t that take too long? What about the, er, flannigan soup?”
“It’s fleur’igan soup, my dear and this won’t take long at all,” Lady Twa’linda assured her.
A moment later a woman who had pale green skin the same color as the guards came scurrying in. She was pushing a floating metal cart in front of her and on it were what looked like a whole array of tall metal cylinders, each with a flexible tube and nozzle attached to it.
“Now then—here we are!” Lady Twa’linda clapped her hands in anticipation. “Oh, I do love giving a guest a new look. Seamstress, bring the cart to Lady Lucille and let her pick a color!”
“Oh, uh…” Lucy looked down at the floating metal cart and its collection of metal cans. Each of them had a round circle of color on it, apparently indicating the contents of the can. “Well, I’ve always thought this kind of emerald green color is pretty,” she said tentatively, pointing at one of the cans.
“Excellent choice, my Lady,” the seamstress said briskly. “Now if you’ll just remove those old clothes, I’ll have your new outfit made up in a jiffy.”
“Um, remove all my clothes? As in, get naked in front of everyone?” Lucy didn’t like the sound of this at all. She loved her curves and owned them thoroughly but that didn’t mean she wanted to show them off to strangers she’d never met before.
“Is there a problem, Lady Lucille?” Lady Twa’linda called, clearly sensing her hesitation.
“My Lady is shy of showing her body to strange males,” T’zaren answered for her, much to Lucy’s relief. “Perhaps your guards could leave? Or at least turn their backs during this, uh, procedure?”
“Oh, modesty—how very quaint!” Lady Twa’linda gave a little titter. “Very well. Guards—all of you turn your backs and if anyone is naughty and takes a peak at Lady Lucille, he shall not have penetration duty for a month!”
This got the guards’ attention and every one of them turned around, facing the walls.
It was still embarrassing to strip in front of Lady Twa’linda, the seamstress, and especially T’zaren, but Lucy was pretty sure she didn’t have a choice. Taking a deep breath, she began shedding her clothes.
When she was down to her bare skin she heard T’zaren suck in a deep breath.
“What? What is it?” she whispered, turning to face him.
“Nothing, my Lady.” His voice had gone hoarse and his eyes moved slowly over her body. “Forgive me. It’s just…you’re very beautiful. Your curves are lovely.”
“Oh, er, thank you.” Lucy could feel herself blushing. She remembered Iyanna’s claims that Monstrum males liked curvy girls—clearly her friend hadn’t been exaggerating.
“Now then, my Lady, if you’ll just hold still, we can get started,” the seamstress said to her.
“Oh—of course.” Lucy turned towards her and let the woman pose her with her arms held a little way out from her body and her thighs pressed together. She felt like a mannequin in a store window—a very naked mannequin—until the seamstress pointed the nozzle attached to the can at her and started spraying her with paint.
Lucy started to protest—she wasn’t sure how hard it would be to get the paint off again—when she noticed something strange. The paint, as it hit her skin, turned into fabric. A very thin, stretchy fabric kind of like spandex, but definitely fabric and not paint.
At first the seamstress seemed to just be spraying it indiscriminately all over her but after she had covered Lucy from her shoulders down to about mid-calf, she put away the paint can and pulled some tools out of the pocket of the apron she was wearing.
“Here now—let’s make this a proper banquet dress,” she murmured—more to herself than to Lucy—and began to work.
First she used a kind of laser cutter to slice away the un-needed fabric and even out the hem—which she left long in the back and shorter in the front—as well as the top of the dress. Then she used some shaping tools that looked like slim metal wands to sculpt the material around Lucy’s bare shoulders.