Sheets of rain streamed down the windows of my study as the fire in the hearth sputtered. It was almost time to fetch more tinder, although I was loathe to range out to the wood shed. By this time in the afternoon, Clarisse would be cooking dinner, and I knew better than to interrupt the girl while she was working.

Venison stew, she had informed me that morning. The thought itself kept me warm, but in truth, I could barely wait to get the meal into me. Clarisse's cooking, like many other traits of hers, were top-notch. I sighed in relief as I crept out of my study, down the stairs, and to the back door, where my heavy leather cloak was waiting. Almost—but not quite—dry from when I had used it yesterday. It was true what they said. The lower marshes north of Tanalorn truly were among the soggiest lands belonging to her majesty Victoria.

"Off for an afternoon stroll?" Clarisse called from the kitchen. "My lord will catch his death of cold!"

"Just getting some wood," I replied. "There's room enough indoors to stroll, if I care to!"

I wrenched the heavy servants' door open and steeled myself as I wrapped the cloak around me. The rain was pouring down in a fearsome manner, making it almost impossible to see the wood shed that lay only thirty feet away. I wondered if I could get the wood back to the manor while it was dry enough to light. I rushed out into the rain, feeling the weight of the water upon my shoulders as the crashing storm above enveloped me. My boots squelched through the mud beneath me as I muttered. Perhaps we should consider moving the wood shed to be attached to the manor.

Reaching the shed, I opened the hatch and grabbed a bundle of wood, holding it close to me beneath my cloak. I carefully closed the shed behind me, making sure the faulty latch was fully closed before turning and stalking my way back to warmth. Back inside, the warmth and coziness of Marsh-hall welcomed me. The sensation was enhanced as I closed the door behind me and the scent of venison and stewed carrots wafted in from the kitchen. Clarisse really did have a way with cooking.

I hung my cloak on its hook and brought the bundle into the kitchen. Clarisse would no-doubt have need for a few pieces of fuel before the day was over. I set the wood on the counter and then, pulling a knife from the block, I cut the twine binding the wood and separated the bundle into two stacks.

"It smells divine, Clarisse," I sighed. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"Thank you so much, my lord," Clarisse said as a wry smile curled on her lips. "I can't quite say what you've done to deserve me, but in a past life, I must have done something truly horrid!"

"You wound me!" I gasped. "Am I really so poor a master?"

Clarisse said nothing, turning back to the pot and stirring it again, humming a tuneless song. After a moment, she turned back to me.

"For dinner tonight," she said. "Venison pairs well with a Merlot. But we only have the 1870 left."

"Ah, better drink it than let it spoil," I said. "Go ahead and uncork it. We'll have to order more soon. Thank god they take orders by telegram. I hate going into town."

"Yes, my lord," Clarisse said. "All the better to maintain your reputation as a recluse."

I chuckled softly as I gathered my wood to return to the study.

"Dinner will be ready presently," Clarisse said as I left. "I'll be setting the dining room in just a moment. I'll call you when it's ready."

"Thank you, Clarisse," I said as I turned to climb the stairs once more.

The ashes of my study's fireplace were still flickering. I took the opportunity to toss the wood in the hearth and wrestled it with the poker into place. Before long, a small fire was crackling once again. I closed up my books in anticipation of the evening ahead. I had a feeling Clarisse and I were in for another fine evening together—one which didn't call for much reading.

***

I arrived in the dining room to see Clarisse had already poured us each a generous serving of Merlot to accompany our stew. She finished lighting the candles then turned to me with a smile.

"Good evening, my lord," Clarisse said with a smile. "Please take your seat. We should enjoy the meal before it gets cold."

I did so, settling into my chair at the head of the table with Clarisse on my right. I dipped the spoon into the stew and brought it to my mouth, laden with chunks of venison and carrots from our garden. The taste was rich and savory. Clarisse had used a myriad of spices and herbs which seemed to bring out the very best of every ingredient. After I finished my mouthful of stew, I washed it down with the wine. Rich and creamy, the bouquet had a floral hint which enhanced the tart aftertaste. I sat my glass down again and enjoyed the moment, watching as Clarisse quietly took her meal alongside me.

The sound of rain hitting the windows softly filled the room, pattering quietly as the storm continued unabated outside. Glad to be in my warm house with such good company, I felt a wave of warmth and relaxation fill me. Perhaps it was the alcohol.

"It's wonderful," I said at length. "You've outdone yourself again!"

"It's kind of you to say, my lord," Clarisse said. "But it's only the same as I do every day."

"Well, then I daresay, you outdo yourself as a matter of habit!"

"I cannot argue with that, Lord Anon," she said. "It must be your stimulating company which drives me to better myself."

"Do I detect an air of sarcasm?"

"Certainly not, my lord," Clarisse said, finishing her glass. "You truly are stimulating! In fact, just the other night..."

"I see," I said in a mock scoff. "You've only one thing on your mind tonight, have you? What lurid fantasies lie beneath that amicable mien?"

Clarisse poured the rest of the bottle in my nearly-empty glass and smiled at me.

"Lurid fantasies," she paused. "Yes, my lord. I suppose you've ferreted out my secret. My mind is awash in the most depraved imaginings. But who could save me from such a fate?"

"Whatever could the cure be?" I said, sipping again from my glass.

"Well, I should think it's obvious," Clarisse said. "You must find a way to get those ideas out of my head."

"But however could we accomplish such a thing?"

"Perhaps," Clarisse said, taking another bottle of wine from the shelf. "Perhaps, if we act out those fantasies, they might leave my head, never to return!"

"I see! But if these fantasies are truly as lurid as you let on, you would need someone who is up to the task. Unless you've imagined yourself a deviant when in fact your desires are quite plain?"

Clarisse flashed me a wicked grin. We had gone through similar conversations before. Sometimes I would be the one beset by a wild lust and sometimes she. In each case, it was the job of the 'sensible' individual to tease out the specifics of the deed beforehand, to make sure it was suitably aberrant as to require a proper treatment.

"I suspect, in fact," I continued. "That these desires may in fact be rather pedestrian. Why with the religious teachings these days, most women are barely allowed to declare love for their husbands without being considered inappropriate. What could it be you desire? To hold hands? To read poetry with a man? Perhaps to steal a kiss upon the cheek?"

Clarisse twirled her long dress as I drank more of my wine. She danced a seemingly-random path through the dining room, before coming to a cabinet and producing a small yet ornate tin. She pulled it down and continued her dance, until she was at my side once more. She carefully sat it down on the table beside me and leaned in until I could feel the heat of her breath upon my ear.

She placed her hand on mine and brought it to the tin, carefully setting my palm atop it before letting go. I looked up at her, now inches from my face. Her eyes were focused on mine. Though somewhat tired-looking, Clarisse had an intensity to her stare that drove me wild. Her brown hair draped over her shoulders. It was tied up when I checked on her in the kitchen, I mused. She must have let her hair down when I wasn't looking. I smiled.

"Is there a clue to your desire in this box?" I asked. "Whatever could be in this box that drives you to depravity?"

"If my lord would only open the box, perhaps my fantasy shall become apparent. Or will my lord need more than a hint? I should think all those days spent studying would not come to waste."

I lifted the lid of the gilded tin and found what I—of course—knew to be inside. A pair of small pipes and several small chunks of brown resin.

"Oh my, whatever could this be?" I said. "Hmm, this resin appears to be extracted from a plant. Papaver somniferum, if I'm not mistaken. It is so, that the effects of the poppy are well known. This is quite the vice, Clarisse, I must say. Don't tell me you intend to put a piece of this resin inside this pipe here, light it, then inhale the fumes."

"Oh my lord, if only that were the full truth," Clarisse said, even closer to me. "I could live with myself, being a hopeless addict, lost in some iniquitous den in Cathay. But alas the dark desire of my heart lies not in the smoke, but what I want to do while smoking."

"Odd though," I sighed. "Most people, when under the influence of opium, are content to lay in one place."

"You're so close, my lord," Clarisse said. "What could I possibly want to do that would require nothing of me, save to lay upon my back?"

As she said this, she gave the lobe of my ear the slightest flick with her tongue. She was leaning on my shoulder now, rubbing my back with one hand and my arm with the other.

"I have it!" I declared. "So you do wish for me to recite poetry to you. You just want me to do it while you enjoy this fine smoke."

"Not quite, my lord," Clarisse said. "Although your participation is very important to the twisted fantasy boiling in my head."

"Something I must do? But not read poetry. Oh! You've provided me with quite the conundrum."

"In fact, Anon, if it pleases you for me to address you as such. It's something that only you can do."

Clarisse ran her nose behind my ear and down my neck, planting kisses as she worked her way to my collar.

"Although," she said. "I must say that neither of us are appropriately outfitted for what I have in mind. Does that stir your creative juices any, my lord?"

"I see. It's something We must do together, but not dressed as we are now? Perhaps we should begin and then as we proceed, it shall become apparent."

"No, no," Clarisse said. "You must solve the riddle first. It's only fair."

"You have caught me," I said, finishing my glass as my head swirled in the warmth of the wine. "I was hoping to get another hint, but I feel you've given me so many already. Perhaps my intellect is not up to the task!"

"You're mistaken, my lord," Clarisse whispered in my ear. "Your intellect shall play no part in what's to come. Perhaps you should listen to your less-intellectual side."

"You mean my base, animal instincts?" I gasped. "But my dear Clarisse, if I listened to that, I would pin you to the cot upon which you smoked this fine drug and have my way with you. I would be unrelenting, spending days worth of energy upon your languid frame."

Clarisse said nothing, but I heard the faintest moan at my confession.

"Is that it then?" I said. "Have I solved the riddle? Shall we take these evil thoughts out of your head by enacting them?"

Clarisse pulled away and took the tin with her, swaying her hips towards the stairs that lead to the master bedroom.

"My lord is as wise as ever," she sighed. "It only took—how many? Five hints? You are improving, I must say!"

"Indeed, I should say my skills at deduction would rival Holmes!"

***

We stumbled through the door to my bedroom, a hazy cloud of lust hanging over us as we came together in a tight embrace. Clarisse placed the tin onto the nightstand as she pulled me towards the bed. I kicked the door shut behind me, following Clarisse onto the wide mattress. My hands and knees sunk into the thick blankets and soft down, but I would not be deterred. The heat between us was intense; Clarisse's eyes were wide as she looked up at me. She was smiling as she reached out for the tin, taking a small chunk of the resin inside.

"What an interesting hobby," I said. "One might even call it an addiction!"

"It is not for me, my lord," Clarisse said. "But for you!"

With a coy smile, Clarisse took a piece of resin and rolled it between her fingers before placing it into the pipe. I took the lighter from the tin and lit the resin, then gave it a moment to begin to smoke.

"It is true, Clarisse," I said. "I find you and this drug to be a compelling combination. However, I should hope the effects are not so strong that we will lose all inhibition. If we were to engage in this act without being able to hold a proper conversation, the results would be most disappointing!"

"My lord has a keen eye for these things," Clarisse said. "And an excellent mind to boot! But you must understand that my mind is in a most perverse state at the moment. It would be difficult for me to even articulate the desires of my heart, let alone put them into words. So with drug or without, I shall be forced to follow your lead."

I laughed as took the lightly smoking pipe and placed it to Clarisse's lips. She took a long draw and held it before exhaling the smoke with a quiet, satisfied sigh. She handed the pipe back to me, and I repeated her motions. The smoke hit my lungs and filled them with a rich, intoxicating taste. My head was swimming, and I was sure Clarisse's must be as well. The world around me seemed to shift in a pleasant haze as I passed the pipe back to Clarisse once more.

She took another puff before lying back upon the bed, spreading her legs and lifting her dress above her knees. As she inhaled again, her eyes fluttered closed as she bit her lower lip.

"You've figured it out then, haven't you, my lord?" she said in a low tone.

I looked down at Clarisse, now fully erect in my breeches. Her slender fingers danced around her panties, now damp with arousal. She looked up at me with a wry smile, her eyes half-lidded, glazed over in lust. I began to unfasten my clothes.

"I see," I said. "That you should disrobe before you are too insensate to do so yourself."

"Of course," she said. "What better way to ensure our intimacy is as stimulating as possible?"

Clarisse reached behind herself and began to unhook her dress. With a helping hand from myself, she shimmied out of her dress and cast it aside. It wasn't long before her shortwear was off as well, leaving her completely nude on the bed. Her slender frame was almost doll-like in appearance, her narrow hips and tiny breasts adding to the look of fragility. Clarisse's dark brown hair spilled around her face as she stared at me with lustful eyes. I felt the weight of her gaze as I slowly undressed before her. Her eyes seemed to be studying me as I did so, drinking in the sight of me. She ran her hands along her own body as she did so, caressing her skin like a lover would.

Her skin was as pale as porcelain, yet there were no blemishes to mar it. Her body was as thin as a twig, yet at the same time soft and plush. Her breasts were small and pert, a handful at best, with wide areola and erect nipples. Her pubic hair was thick and bushy, almost as wild as Clarisse herself. The patch of hair was centered on her mons veneris, which was just barely visible beneath the ample tuft . I smiled to myself as I considered her body, from her slender form to her sharp features. She was a picture of beauty and I felt fortunate to be the one to see it.

Clarisse spread her legs further as I took off the last of my clothing and laid down beside her, letting her wrap her legs around me. She picked the pipe up from the nightstand and placed it to her lips, taking a deep breath and exhaling it with a smile. Clarisse's smile grew wider as I kissed her. She took another deep breath of smoke before exhaling it into my mouth;