Pepper On The Inside

Ambrose said nothing for a long moment and then sighed. The life seemed to drain out of his body in that moment, and Pepper saw, finally, this man's age. She blushed, remembering her rudeness from six months earlier. "My God! I was a bitch!" she thought with belated shame.

"Fifty years," Ambrose quavered, "Fifty years I worked on that book. I made sacrifices; ruined chances, opportunities for myself; isolated myself from others, for that book. It was going to be my magnum opus, my legacy. I poured everything I had, everything I am, into that book. And now some woman, a woman who I'd never met, who just happened to be the daughter of someone to whom I never did any injury, even if I never liked him, is set to take it all away. My reputation, all those years, my very life. I'm desperate. I'll give you anything. I just need your help."

Years later, Pepper would remember this moment. The instant her life changed. When she saw an old man who needed help; a man who, only six months ago, did something . . . indescribable . . . to her. She could have refused him. She could have demanded terms that would make him her bitch, but however rude Pepper had been to this man, she never liked the idea of herself as cruel; cruelty was her stepmother's trademark. So Pepper said the one word that changed everything for her, "Okay."

Ambrose relaxed. Pepper watched the shift from desperation to relief. It took years off of him. "So what happens now?" she asked.

"Well," he replied. "First we call my niece."

*****

Katherine "Kate" Wright cursed a blue streak as she rode into the driveway. Just before she arrived, Kate had run into the bane of all motorcycle riders, bugs. Kate's trip to her uncle's residence, with the headlights as a bug magnet, meant a face shield painted with moth guts but when Uncle Amb called, she came.

He was in trouble; the kind of trouble good men like him shouldn't be in, "Because of that bitch." She knew the type. The circles she'd moved in as an art dealer and fraud investigator afforded opportunities to hobnob with the rich, the famous, the talented, and their parasites. Where there was fame, there was envy and greed; tort abusers, con artists, poseurs, trolls (some literal, she moved in the Shadow world as well) just waiting to pounce. The magic and the mundane had little difference in that aspect.

Kate's instincts pegged Audrey James as untrustworthy. Her accusations against Uncle Ambrose were obviously bogus. "Uncle Amb wouldn't spend decades on a fraud like this. It doesn't make sense."

The Shadow world had many of the same problems as the mundane, and many of the same solutions, but with magic in the mix, some problems required unique solutions. Problem solving of this nature was Kate's specialty.

The roar of the motorcycle alerted Ambrose and Pepper. "Ah! My niece Kate. Pepper my dear can you please go and bring her in for me?"

Ambrose was going over documents and records given to him by William Pierce; most were in regards to William James, his career, his writings and publications. "I have to admit there is some good scholarship here," he thought. Other papers related to Audrey, courtesy of investigative work by Kate. "A possible way in perhaps?"

Pepper could not make head or tail over Ambrose's papers, and the magic stuff still made her nervous, so she was glad for the brief break.

She opened the door while Kate was just taking off her helmet. The two women saw each other, startled, followed by a simultaneous "Oh!"

They took in each other for a brief second. Kate saw a lovely young woman, about ten years younger than herself, "Probably nineteen, twenty," about her size, shoulder length straight black hair, dark brown eyes, snub nose, just a touch of rebel about her. "Probably has some Hispanic or Greek in her family."

Pepper saw a strikingly attractive lady. She was older, but not by far. "She looks late twenties, thirty at the most,"; deep lustrous red hair, pale skin with freckles, lots of freckles, sea green eyes, a snub nose like hers, a good humored look with mischief twinkling in those eyes. Pepper liked her immediately.

"So, I guess you're the girl who's going to help my uncle out of his jam," Kate said.

"Yeah, I guess I am. I don't really know why."

"Oh, it's my uncle. He has that effect, once people get to know him." Kate walked in. "He's a good man. He doesn't deserve to get screwed like this. I'm Kate by the way, Kate Wright." She held out her hand.

"Patricia Waite, people call me Pepper." Pepper took Kate's hand. "It's so warm," she thought. "I don't know about the good man part. We had some issues recently, but I guess I was rude then, and I kind of feel sorry for him now."

"Well, you're helping him now and I'm grateful."

"So how are we going to do this?"

"Let's talk to Uncle Ambrose."

After hugs and catching up on family news, Ambrose explained his plan to the two women. "The only explanation I can think of as to how Audrey copied so much of my material is through some spy or scrying device. I think turnabout can be fair play. According to these transcripts Audrey is an art collector, I take it?"

"Correct," Kate replied.

"And she visits art houses, antique stores, etal to collect statuary?"

"Yes."

"So how I see the way to proceed is this. I'll use the statuefication spell to turn you, Pepper, back into a figurine. I'll layer it with a scrying spell to turn you into a remote viewing device, with a phonic charm for sound recording. Kate will insert you into the shop Audrey frequents the most, Bric and Brac's Trinkets and Statuary I believe."

Kate spoke up, "I think you should layer on an attraction spell too, to make sure Audrey picks her when she shops."

"Yes, but I would need something of her to make it work."

"It just so happens . . ." Kate replied. She drew out a plastic bag from her backpack. Inside was a wad of tissue paper.

"Snot Kate?"

"Ew!" agreed Pepper.

"I followed her into the restroom at a mall. She blew her nose. It was an opportunity. I was hoping you could lay some sort of mojo on her."

"Uh hmmm," Ambrose said, examining the tissue. "Yes, it would work. I'll also layer a teleportation spell to extract you, Pepper, when the work is done."

"Guys, I'm a little nervous. All this talk about spells, teleportation, it's a bit much."

"Don't be," Kate assured her. "None of it will hurt. You experienced it before, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did." Pepper had to admit, looking back, that beyond the shock and terror, there was no pain. In fact, she remembered some pleasure in the transformation.

"Look," Kate said, "Let's work on some poses while Uncle Amb makes the potion."

"Potion? You mean I have to drink it?" Pepper didn't like the prospect of drinking something made of snot.

"No, no Pepper. Not all magic potions work like that," Ambrose replied. "Oh, I'll need a lock of your hair for the teleportation spell."

Pepper went to her desk upstairs, took a pair of scissors, snipped off a lock, and returned downstairs.

"Thank you Pepper," Ambrose said. "Now if you two can go to work on her pose. The potion should only take a few minutes."

"We'll leave you to it, come Pepper." The women went upstairs.

"So you and my Uncle have some issues?" Kate asked as she directed Pepper to a corner.

"Um, something like that. Uh, he turned me into a paperweight."

Kate blinked. "He did that? And he's going to do it again? And you're going to let him? This is screwed up. And your name is, what? 'Pepper' Waite? It's either Uncle Amb's sense of humor or irony or both. Stand like that please."

Pepper leaned to the side with her right hand on her hip. "I . . . wasn't exactly nice to him. I like to play my music loud and . . . uh . . . I was kind of a bitch. I had some issues, still do kind of."

"Loud music would do it. Uncle Amb always liked things quiet. He prefers smooth jazz. I'm a classic rocker myself. No, that pose won't do."

"How about this?" Pepper stood straight with her hands crossed at the back of her neck.

"No, that won't do either."

Pepper tried several more poses to little success.

"Look," said Kate, "It's not as if you're posing for a photograph. You're going to be a statue. There's a slight difference."

"Oh, like the Venus de Milo," Pepper struck a similar pose.

"No, no, Audrey James strikes me as someone more into sensual art; maybe not too sensual."

Pepper was unsure she liked where the subject was headed. "Look, I appreciate sensuality as much as anyone but . . ."

"I know, I know. I'm not thinking that extreme but, the pose has to be provocative; subtle but provocative. Hmmm, let's go to bed."

"Huh? I'm not sleepy."

"No, no not that. I want to try a pose."

Pepper and Kate went to the bedroom. "Now, lie down straight, on your back. Hmmm, arms like this, under your waist, hands flat against your butt. Yes, that's a good pose. We'll try it when Ambrose is ready."

Ambrose knocked on the door. When it opened, his foot flinched. Kate let him in, smiling. Pepper was behind her, nervously shifting her feet.

"Well," he raised a glass jar of light amber liquid, "I have the potion." He noticed Pepper's nervousness. "Um, are you sure you wish to go through with this?"

Pepper saw the tense worry on his face. "He thinks I want to back out. I do but . . . Yes, I'll do it. It's just . . . let's get this over with before I change my mind."

Ambrose sighed, relieved. "Thank you . . . um. It's awkward . . . uh . . . you'll have to remove your clothes."

"Huh?"

"The spell doesn't work on clothing, remember? And the potion needs to be rubbed on the body."

"Oh!" Pepper blushed; so did Ambrose. He'd seen her nude as a statue, and briefly the flesh but the application meant a more extended view.

Kate broke the ice after a few moments' awkward silence. "Look, let me apply the potion and get her into the pose. You can perform the spell. That should, maybe, give you a brief look, and Pepper won't have to be too embarrassed."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Pepper replied.

Kate took the jar, "I'll call when we're ready."

In the bedroom, Kate stood by while Pepper removed her t-shirt, jeans, bra, panties, and socks.

"You'll have to cover yourself head-to-toe in this stuff."

Pepper took the jar and opened it, preparing her nose for, what she expected to be, a stench of urine mixed with a rotting corpse suffering from diarrhea. Instead the smell was of, "Lavender? With vanilla?"

"You expect every magic potion to smell like shit? The magic world's not like Macbeth . . . mostly."

"It's still made from someone else's snot," Pepper grimaced.

"Better not have that look when Ambrose casts the spell," Kate smiled.

The potion actually went on like warm suntan oil. Pepper did as required; Kate helped with her back and waist. Pepper, for a moment, flushed and tingled when Kate's hands touched her skin. She dismissed it, focused upon slicking back her hair and tying it in a small bun. Kate's hands were warm and strong against her back; Pepper experienced not a little self-consciousness. "I better not be blushing."

Once done, Kate stood back and viewed Pepper. The results were . . . interesting. "So? Is it okay? How do I look?"

Kate's face was blank, then she blinked and blushed and said, "Um, why don't you get into position. I'll fetch Uncle Amb." She left the room quickly. "Get a hold of yourself Kate, focus!"

Pepper climbed onto the bed and positioned herself. "That was . . . awkward." Kate's expression contained all sorts of hidden meanings, a few Pepper hesitated to explore. "I have some issues to go over later if I get through this. God, I hope the money's worth it!"

Kate returned bringing Ambrose. "I don't know why you're nervous, Kate. You've seen me perfo . . . gurk!"

Ambrose, in younger, randier days, had seen more than his share of nude women. In college he took a few art classes so, in that context, his experience was considerable. Plus, as a trained Grey mage, he held supreme confidence in his powers of focus and concentration. That jaded experience and concentration vanished, for a few seconds (seconds he would look back upon with the bemusement fitting his nature), on seeing Pepper Waite laying on the bed.

She was on her back, arms crossed underneath at her waist, giving her body a slight arc. Her body was shiny-slick, top to bottom, in the potion, more body oil really, defining the muscles, and enhancing the curves and contours of a truly excellent figure.

Ambrose knew from their earlier encounter, Pepper waxed (he hadn't noticed pubic hair on her bronze form) and sported c-cup breasts, but his admiration, then, stemmed from an aesthetic viewpoint. Here her pose exuded a sensual eroticism that stunned him, if only for a moment.

Pepper watched Ambrose. The look on his face made her feel warm. Months ago she'd dismissed him as a weird, lecherous old man and now . . .

She realized with shock, his gaze didn't make her feel uncomfortable. The moment was just that, a moment, but Pepper felt something change in her, and not in the way from the previous encounter.

The moment passed and Ambrose blinked and cleared his throat. "Well, that is a good pose but your expression should be neutral as possible. It's easier on the scrying spell. Plus, keep your eyes open, not too wide though."

"Is this okay?" Pepper asked, adopting a bored, disinterested gaze, looking slightly away towards the window. She copied it from a magazine.

"Perfect! Hold that pose." Ambrose uttered a chant, guttural, similar to the earlier spell used on Pepper, and touched her with his wand.

The spell began and it was deja vu for Pepper. The invisible hands roamed and caressed her body, tweaking her nipples as before. There was an invasive nature to the spell she'd not previously noticed. Invisible hands stroked her pussy and fingers, unless she imagined it, dove between her moist folds, gliding across her clit. She exhaled a soft gasp, her lips parted slightly. Her body's mild arc curved a touch further and her muscles tensed, before everything froze.

The bed grew bigger, her sepia-tinted vision returned. Her oil-shined skin grew darker, more metallic. The shine seemed to infuse into her skin as it became bronze. The process took half a minute.

"Well, it worked better than I expected," Ambrose said.

Kate reached down and picked her up. "Wow! You never cease to amaze me Uncle Amb! How do you feel Pepper?"

"She can't answer you, nor do I have mental contact. She's in there, though."

Kate ran her fingers over the bronze figurine. It was Pepper in every nude detail. If she'd been a genuine work of art, the artist would be acclaimed as a genius.

"Let me close my eyes, to see if the scrying spell worked. Bring her to the mirror; let her see herself."

Pepper, fully conscious of Kate's fingers roaming over her body, noticed her own lack of shock. "Well, it's the second time so it's easier." She couldn't help but wonder, though, how it would feel if her skin were flesh instead of metal. When she saw herself in the mirror, Pepper couldn't resist an inward gasp.

Her bronze body was larger than the last time, and shinier as well. The spell had captured her at the beginning of an orgasm, with all her muscles, curves, and contours defined in detail.

Her mouth was parted, slightly, the beginnings of a gasp, and her eyes, half-lidded, gazed off to the side. She was as beautiful and sensual a statuette as if Rodin himself made her.

"Yes," Ambrose said, eyes closed, "I see her perfectly in the mirror. It's going to work."

Kate smiled. Her Uncle's tone was hopeful for the first time in months. "Good! The next move is to take Pepper to the Bric and Brac. Dave Lewis owns it now. You remember him? Owes me a favor over that fake fraud claim? He told me Audrey's coming in a couple of days to look over his new bronze collection. It's a perfect chance."

"Things seem to be moving my way for a change," Ambrose smiled.

Kate raised Pepper to her face. "We owe you so much for this Pepper, thanks."

"You're welcome. I just hope this crazy adventure doesn't kill me."

Kate smiled and left to put Pepper in her backpack, pausing to suggest, "Maybe you should hire a sketch artist to draw what you see. You might find something juicy. Blackmail her maybe? You're not a White, you know."

"There's a local artist, minor White, apprentice status. Pierce vouched for him. Specializes in empathic illustration. He works for mundane law enforcement. He consulted me on psychic imprinting once. I'll call him."

****

Six months ago, as Ambrose was completing the finishing touches to his book, Simon Rosenthal, a wealthy investment banker, collapsed from a stroke while picking up the paper at his expensive townhouse. He died from complications three days later. He had no other living relatives than a drug-addicted nephew, who received four million dollars to blow or help him straighten out. The bulk of Rosenthal's estate went to auction. Among the items were three vintage cars (a '51 Buick XP, a '56 Chrysler Norseman, and a '35 Rolls Phantom), a two-hundred year old Pinot Noir, and an art collection which included the world's most extensive collection of bronze figurines.

Dave Lewis, proprietor of Bric and Brac's Trinkets and Statuary scored the bulk of the bronzes at the estate auction, once more demonstrating his superior skills as a master buyer. The collection set him back more than he wanted, but he figured the profit would offset the cost.

The figurines were exquisite, representing the best work by their respective artists; and if the collection included a bronze sculpture by an unknown artist, included for a specific purpose, by a colleague who had helped him recover a substantial amount of money, scammed off of him by a con artist, he didn't mind nor asked the reason. She simply instructed him on the person coming to view the collection and left. A pity; he didn't like the customer, even if she paid good money, and the bronze really was a superior work of art. He could have made more money with a richer buyer, but he owed Kate a favor.

Audrey James strode haughtily into the Bric and Brac, and gazed around with all the entitlement her spoiled upbringing could muster. Dave kept his face carefully neutral, but sighed inwardly, "God, I hate this bitch."

Audrey actually had a good day. Horace, an hour earlier, informed her the Grey order was convening to vote on Ambrose's expulsion in a week, and his appeal was likely to be turned down. She smiled, "So, I did my part Horace, now you do yours."

"Oh don't worry; you'll get the contract."

The fine and seizure of royalties were icing on the cake. Also the posthumous transfer of the Merlin Prize to her father and what it meant for her prestige, but it was the game and the power which mattered, not money. She had plenty to spend on these little treasures, especially if they were bronze; she loved bronze.

The collection did not disappoint. "Simon Rosenthal had a good eye. Is that a Thorvaldsen?" She thought she recognized a Rodin. "Beautiful, just be . . . Well! Who is this?"

She was propped against a glass rock sculpture, hands behind her slightly arched body, legs together, feet tiptoed. Audrey took the girl from the shelf, caressing her torso almost lovingly. "Amazing detail," she murmured. Everything about her exuded sensuality, from her swollen pussy to her taut, flat belly and perky, erect nipples. The girl's mouth was partially open, a faint gasp, frozen in time. Her eyes were disinterested, just glancing at some distraction at the beginning of her orgasm.

Audrey turned the girl around. The hair on her head was tied in a small, neat bun, resting near the nape of her neck. She traced the smooth transition from the neck, between her shoulder blades, down the curve of her spine.