Swan Girls - Prodding and Prying (Patreon)

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Prodding and Prying

After the brisk half-an-hour-by-car jog home, Coral darted into her shower as a flesh-colored blur to wash off the saltwater from her earlier date-lesson encounter with Alysha. She removed her necklace and placed it on the counter before floating into her deep shower and let the cold water spray all over her naked body. She’d just been swimming in the depths of the ocean; some lukecold water pumping through the house’s tubes wasn't going to bother her.

The blonde teen floated off the floor and turned upside down just for fun as she lathered her lower body. A tiny buzz was rattling inside her head—mostly nothing at first, but as she shook her head and rubbed her temples, the pressure continued to build. Pushing with enough force to crush steel and transferring untold force through her massage, or doing nothing at all, Coral couldn’t alleviate that irritating and painful buildup in her pretty little head. It felt as if her brain was going to burst out of her skull!

“Urrrgh!” she squealed as the water continued to rain down on her while she bobbed up and down in the air. Suddenly, the sound of cracking plaster greeted her thumping ears. She opened her eyes to see her toes embedded in the ceiling.

Oops.

She quickly turned off the water, tucked herself into a little ball, then rotated until she was right side up again. Still dripping, she grabbed a towel and her birthday necklace and flew over to her bed. Plopping onto her soft mattress with the towel wrapped around her and the glowing necklace resting on her flat belly, Coral sucked in deep breaths while she covered her eyes with her forearm. Slowly, the pain in her head attenuated.

With a deep sigh of relief, Coral threw off the towel and put on the necklace, letting those expensive-looking gems nestle in the valley of her cleavage once more as she clicked the latch closed. Then, dressing up in a casual pair of short shorts and a t-shirt and cardigan, her hearing picked up the sounds of Paris shuffling some papers on the other side of the house. Talking to Paris sounded nice. She always made time for Coral, no matter what.

A rush of wind and another flesh-smeared blur later, Coral knocked on the door of Paris’s study. Her mother-in-law was curled up on the large sofa rather than behind the elegant desk, a huge spray of papers laid out around her. The older woman began stacking them neatly, creating an empty spot on the couch beside her and patting it welcomingly.

“What’s up, dear?”

Coral slinked onto “her spot” on the white leather couch. The first question was harder than lifting a yacht with a single finger. Much harder.

"...What do you remember about Freya?" Coral asked.

Paris glanced at the necklace. “Thinking about your mom?”

“You’re my mom! That woman is just gone,” she declared vehemently.

Paris ran a hand smoothly over Coral’s forearm, calming the young lady like only she could.

“I mean, how did you and Freya meet?”

“I have known your father for a long time. We used to be childhood sweethearts. He went away to Australia on business and came back with Freya.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes. Love at first sight, I guess. Of course I was hurt, but she did make him happy. More than I could…”

Paris's usually bright expression faded. Coral felt terrible dredging up these old memories. But...

“Did she ever seem special, or maybe strange to you?” ...she just had to know more.

“Oh darling, your mother was always special. I mean, just imagine: your father as a young man, the heir to the Connor's family fortune. Then he comes back from overseas with a pretty girl he wants to marry. She's got no family, no money. And she still wins his family over like a fairy tale princess. Even as she was breaking my heart I had to cheer for her. She just rose to every occasion, every test, endured every slight and insult with such grace. And in the end, Harrison was in love.”

Coral had trouble imagining it. Her paternal grandparents were extremely strict. The idea of their eldest son marrying for love must have been a catastrophe in their eyes. Not to mention Paris's seemingly easy acceptance of having her heart broken and rooting for the one who had done the breaking.

"But how did she…?" Coral was starting the suspect she knew.

“Your mother was very smart, very skilled, and very kind. And your father was desperately in love.”

Coral had seen pictures of Freya, but none from before the wedding. There was no doubt where her looks came from. She could almost imagine a younger prettier Freya winning over her grandparents.

She shook her head violently, unwilling to have any nice thoughts towards the woman.

“I told you, you’re my mother,” Coral slid over and placed her pretty blonde head on Paris's shoulder.

“I know, I know. You’re very sweet, dearie. Anyway, Freya’s disappearance came as a shock to many people. The police were suspicious of your father for years. She had a famous medical practice with a very elite clientele. People finally concluded she’d saved someone’s life and that person’s enemies had wanted to make sure she didn’t do it twice.”

Clients. Whole families indebted to her mother for her miraculous skills as a surgeon and healer. Someone who saved lives. Coral remembered the boy from her party, one of hundreds of souls indebted to Freya. He smelled nice, and there was something strange about his eyes. Strange and familiar.

“Your sister didn't like how quickly your father and I became close again. She thought I was a temptress and dishonoring your mother...” Paris paused. A sound caught in her throat, as if wanting to say more, but she stopped herself. Instead she leaned in and gave Coral a hug.

“...But she still left us,” Coral stated, a little selfishly. Who would believe all of that speculation anyway?

Paris reached out gently and touched the necklace. "Not entirely."

Coral was so frustrated she could scream. Freya had clearly hurt Paris bady, and yet her adopted mother was still willing to forgive the woman!? Coral flopped over and pulled a couch pillow over her head as she finally let out a frustrated whimper.

She felt Paris's hand gently rest on her shoulder. Even through the pillow, she heard Paris's voice, clear as glass.

“I will find you some pictures to show you in the morning. You shouldn't remember her this way.”

Coral felt the couch shift as Paris stood up.

The older woman called out from the doorway more loudly now to deliberately penetrate the pillow.

“You know, the evening is still young. There's still time for my favorite medicine.”

Coral peeked out from under her goose down pillow, her crystal blue eyes slightly red with hidden tears. "Go dancing?"

"Definitely go dancing. I could help you get dressed up."

“Okay.”

The two women slid off the couch and stood up. Paris wrapped her arm around Coral’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. The young blonde pretended to wince, hoping that Paris wouldn’t notice that her flesh had absolutely no give to it.

---

“Matthew?”

He heard a light rap on his door. Turning off the hospital bed TV, he kept his plaster-wrapped lower body still as he craned his neck the other direction. Through the small viewing glass, he could see a flash of golden silk.

“Coral?” he asked excitedly. He was wondering when she’d be coming to visit him. What a crazy afternoon that’d been! He hadn’t told anyone about the... supernatural things she’d done.

The door clicked open. In walked a tall, tall blonde. Emphasized by a pair of heeled boots. Just over six feet of mostly legs looking like they had been carved out of marble, strong and toned. Not that he could see more than her ankles and calves given her knee length plaid skirt.

A thin, homely knit sweater covered most of her upper body, but failed when it reached her chest. A chest that easily rivaled Coral’s. Candace also wore a black jacket on top of it, though the subtle swell of her clearly dramatic breasts were always visible underneath it, no matter how she tried to camouflage it. And on her face, the signature glasses that she never went anywhere without.

“Candace? What are you doing in town? Isn’t it like a ten hour drive?” he asked Coral’s big sister.

“I just flew in.”

“Really? Two days late for Coral’s birthday is a little more than fashionably late, wouldn’t you say?” he joked, but also sincerely wondered what on earth would compel Candace to come visit on such short notice, if not Coral’s big birthday bash.

“Matthew,” Candace stated flatly as she strode toward his bed and took a seat at the foot of it. God, she was tall. He’d always harbored a bit of a crush on the elder Connor-Swan sister in spite of Coral’s flirtatious teasing and supermodel looks. There was just something about Candace. She was smart. More aloof, more unreachable. Mature. God, she was pretty!

“I need to talk to you,” Candace continued as Matthew thanked the stars that she couldn’t see what he was fantasizing about at the moment. “About...” she waved those pretty fingers at his lower body. “...this.”

Matthew gulped. Candace was sitting so close to him now. But also, exactly what was he supposed to say to her about Coral? He began to prepare a quick slew of lies as Candace’s even more mesmeric than Coral’s blue gaze pierced his soul from behind her designer glasses...

---

Paris browsed Coral’s deep walk in closet while Coral discreetly closed the door to her shower. She’d have to hire someone to come fix the roof of her shower without letting anyone else know...

“How about this one?” Paris picked out a little black number amidst the sea of pink.

“Oh! That was so long ago! I don’t think it would fit me now...” Coral lied. It wasn’t so long ago. But it had always been tight, and after the events of the last few days, she had a sneaking suspicion that the dress would burst at the seams if she put it on.

Paris took the dress off the bar and held it up to eyeball against Coral’s marvelous curves. It was hard to believe how insanely leggy her step-daughter was. Not to mention that cinched waist and her full decolletage.

The silver-haired woman threw Pari’s tiny dress over her arm. “I’ll have the maids adjust it. Yvette is good with a sewing machine. Oh this is so much fun!” Paris giggled like a little girl.

“What is?”

“I never did get to be much of a mother with your older sister. Goodness, if I had your looks when I was your age, I’d have all the boys eating out the palm of my hand! It’s fun to live vicariously,” Paris smiled as she picked out another dress. “So much pink...”

“You’re really pretty, Paris!”

“Thanks sweetie, but you are a complete knockout. I appreciate the sentiment though!” Paris continued to whip through Coral’s outfits.

“How come you and Candace don’t get along?”

Paris paused in mid-tinker with Coral’s wooden hangers.

“She never told me, not in so many words. But she has more memories of your mother than you do. It was harder for her to accept me, I’m sure.”

“Remember when you took me and Candace to the Fairy Queen musical? I was 6!” Coral reminisced. “Daddy wasn’t there.”

“Yes, your father was very busy.”

“We were crushed! I thought the whole thing was going to be canceled. But then you swooped in and saved the day!”

“I always try to tell your father that some business things can wait, and that he needs to make more time for you. He was wrong to leave that day. But I still hope you know that he loves you very much,” Paris tugged at the hem of another dress and clicked her tongue.

“I didn’t tell you at the time because I didn’t want to ruin the mood, but you know Candace didn’t want to go with you? Even though it was her absolute favorite thing? She used to tell me the story to put me to sleep.”

“I know, dear,” Paris smiled.

“You did!? I thought I hid it so well! I thought it might hurt your feelings to know that she didn’t want to go cuz it was you taking us, and not Daddy.”

“It can be quite difficult to keep a secret within a household, you know. One day you’ll be a mother. You’ll see.” She pulled out a black number that was stored in the back. “How about this one?” Paris asked, airing out the dress and shaking the dust off.

Coral gulped. Did Paris know about her powers? She decided to play it cool... even though it would actually be a relief to confess her two day old secret to her stepmother. Or more accurately, if Paris would just come out and say it and take all the tension and secret-keeping out of Coral’s hands.

“Ah, that one used to be big for me, but that was two years ago.”

Paris held it up to Coral’s frame. “Did Candace have fun that night? She only reluctantly thanked me.”

“Yes, she liked it. She couldn’t stop telling me about everything we’d seen, as if I hadn’t been there! I wish you two would get along better...”

“Ah, we’re okay now. Civil, at least. She’s older and more mature. It is what it is,” Paris shrugged. “Try this on.”

Coral stripped off her t-shirt and stepped out of her shorts. Paris gave another appreciative whistle.

“Stop, you’re worse than the boys!” an embarrassed Coral complained. She liked the attention from the boys, but hearing it from her mother was too much!

“Good practice, then! You’ll need to beat them off with a stick!”

Or maybe just a little flick from my finger, Coral thought to herself. God, she wanted to tell Paris.

She pulled the dress over her head and let it drape over her. It took a little more encouragement to smooth down her body when it got caught by the dramatic swell of her bust. As Coral tugged it down, her hands molded the dress briefly to the swooping contours of her body, giving Paris a quick peek at the latent potential in the outfit before Coral took her hands off it and the dress hung loose around her waist before outlining the exaggerated swell of Coral’s womanly hips.

“Here.” Paris grabbed a waist chain off of Coral’s hanging hook of belts and baubles.

She tied the thing around her stepdaughter’s waist, pulling tighter and tighter on the thing until it went to its smallest, final loop. Then snapped it shut.

“How do I look?” Coral asked, cocking her hips left and right.

“Spin,” Paris ordered.

Coral did.

“If anything, it’s a little too small,” Paris sniggered. “You look good. Be careful out there! You want to have dinner here?”

“No, it’s okay. I’m not hungry.”

“And your makeup... it looks flawless. Didn’t I hear you taking a shower earlier? I see your towel is on the bed.”

“I, erm, put it back on. Really quickly. Does it look bad?” Coral tried to cover.

“It looks lovely, dear. Call if you want me to pick you up tonight.” Paris squeezed Coral’s shoulder once more as she headed back toward her side of the mansion. Coral’s heartbeat raced once more. Did she know!?

Then Paris slid past her stepdaughter without another word.

“Paris?” Coral called out.

“Hmm?” Paris stopped in her tracks right at Coral’s door.

“I uh...” she paused. “Love you. Thanks!”

“I love you too, sweetie.” Paris left and closed the door, leaving Coral to her privacy.

Coral moaned softly after she was earshot. Just tell her, dummy! She chastised herself.

Feeling especially like self-flagellating, Coral narrowed her eyes and scanned back over to Corey in his hospital bed. Even from across town, as she focused, she could hear his heart racing for some reason if she couldn’t already read it off the monitoring machine with her X-ray and telescopic vision. A thin sheen of sweat covered his face. But otherwise, he seemed perfectly fine.

Yup. That helped, Coral told herself as she continued to wade in a pool of guilt and self-doubt.

She swallowed those feelings. Paris had told her to go dancing, she told herself. Who was she to disobey?