It was getting time, thought Claudia, for Mortimer to get his first real pet. He'd proven himself responsible enough with the tarantula, the lizard, and those weird fish things whose name she could never remember. Animals like that are well enough, but Mortimer needed a companion, something to keep him company on the lonely grounds of the mansion, when he wasn't at school.
When Mr. Darkwood had been alive, he and Claudia had talked about having a second child, but it was too late for that now. In a sense, his death had left them both alone. Mr. Darkwood had been tall and handsome, broad-shouldered and well-endowed enough to keep their marriage bearable, occasionally very enjoyable, despite its foundation on convenience, rather than love. Being a young widow suited Claudia fine in many ways. She didn't miss Hugo's cold manner, dull mind, and condescending attitude toward her, but she did miss the feeling of his cock inside her. It had been one of the few things he was good for.
True, she was still beautiful, tall and slender, tresses of black hair elegantly styled around sharp cheekbones, darkly-shadowed eyes, and a small, but expressive mouth, and while some men found her height intimidating, many more were up to the challenge, and she had her fair share of trysts during the social season in Manhattan. She recalled with much fondness her night with the British ambassador and his wife;
that
had been a revelatory evening. She still got a laugh thinking of the witless Texas oil baron and would-be lothario who had tried so hard to impress her in the hotel restaurant, only for her to satisfy herself by making a man of his young son instead. And she'd been unable to sit down for a week after letting that French Canadian boxer thoroughly sodomize her.
But she had to be careful in these matters. A hint of scandal would attract the newspapermen like sharks to a feeding frenzy, and even as careful as she was, for the rest of the year she was completely alone, except for those instances where she wasn't too good for a gigolo. It had been months since her last cock. She had heard stories of lonely women in her position fucking the servants, but those stories never ended well.
She supposed to could try to get engaged again - the gossip that came along with that was generally harmless, from what she had seen - but fortune-hunters were everywhere. Besides, she wanted a lover, not a husband. She liked her independence, liked having the entire estate to manage herself, liked having no one to answer to.
She realized the extent to which she had allowed her mind to wander. Getting Mortimer a new pet. Of course. She promised herself a long evening with a dirty novel and her favourite toys, which was the best she could get, lately, and pushed the issue from her mind.
She put down the magazine she had idly been flipping through and walked into the library, where she found Mortimer poring over a comic book with some manner of ghoul on the cover.
"Mortimer," she said, "I've been thinking that maybe it's time to get you a proper pet. What do you think?"
"I'd like that very much, mother," he said, looking up from the comic book.
"What would you like? A dog? A cat?"
"Actually," said Mortimer, flipping through the pages, "there's a form in this comic where you can send away for a Sumatran giant lemur. Could I have one of those, mother?" He showed her the form, sandwiched between ads for X-ray specs and a 'real life shrunken head'.
The first thing she saw was a grainy photograph, cheaply printed on the pulpy comic book paper, of the lemur's snub-nosed face. She thought it looked a little like a bat, with long, pointed ears and big staring eyes.
The Sumatran giant lemur makes a loyal pet, a tough bodyguard, and above all, he's smart smart SMART! Almost as smart as you! He'll start small but grow very fast, almost to the size of a pony. Kids can even ride him! He likes most of the same food as you - especially fruit and meat, but his favourite treat is honey. Gentle and affectionate with friends and family, but he'll have no problem guarding the house against burglars.
Live delivery guaranteed. Price includes free cage, free leather collar and leash, free care handbook. Loads of fun and amusement.
And then there was the mailing information.
Within 6-8 weeks, a big truck pulled into the gates from the courier service. A man got out of the cab and knocked on the door, a clipboard in his other hand.
"Is this Darkwood Hall?" he asked, when a servant answered.
Claudia signed the forms, and before long, the lemur was loaded off the truck in a small cage. Claudia remembered, as a girl, getting a pet tortoise delivered in a similar cage. Mortimer squealed with delight as he opened it, and the curious lemur leapt out, immediately clinging to his arm.
It was about the size of a cat, but its babyish proportions marked it as clearly having some growth to do before reaching full size. Its eyes darted back and forth at the courier, Mortimer, and Claudia, with an expression of polite attention.
"Oh, he's so cute!" cried Mortimer. "I think I'll name him Towser. Your name is Towser now, okay, little buddy?" He had brought a spoonful of honey down from the larder, in preparation for the thing's arrival, and he offered it to the creature, who gratefully and immediately began to lick the honey from the spoon with a long, nimble tongue.
As the animal moved, Claudia's eye was uncomfortably drawn to between its legs. It was... hard to miss.
"He's got a really big willie, mother," laughed Mortimer, who had apparently noticed it too.
Over the next year, Towser the Sumatran giant lemur grew at an astounding pace, quickly living up to the name of his species. His limbs quickly outpaced his ringed, prehensile, tail in terms of length; according to the book, he would rely less and less on his tail to climb as he got bigger. His method of climbing changed to reflect this, becoming less like a squirrel, monkey, or, well, lemur, and increasingly starting to resemble the confident movement of a bear or ape, climbing trees hand over hand with long muscular limbs.
The ad had not lied about Towser's intelligence, either. He was an extremely fast learner when it came to verbal commands, from basic instructions to advanced tricks, and Claudia could have sworn that he was more intelligent than many people she had known, her late husband included. He didn't simply learn commands the way a dog did, recognizing that certain words meant basic concepts. He seemed able to understand complex concepts, the relations between ideas, nuances and context clues.
And he loved the attention that came with showing off, whether or not he received a spoonful of honey as a treat, and his love for people was genuine, despite his rather alarming appearance and size.