The Oyster Volume V

THE REMARKABLE ADVENTURES OF PORLOCK HOLMES

'Unless I am very much mistaken,' said the great detective, 'we are about to have a visitor. A woman of some standing in society who has just enjoyed a prolonged and vigorous bout of sexual congress.'

'How on earth do you know that?' I asked, amazed at his powers of prediction.

He beckoned me over to the drawing room window. 'Note the carriage standing at the kerb outside the house,' he said, it drew up some three quarters of an hour ago. Since then, no one has emerged. You will observe also that it is a private equipage, well maintained and with a discreet monogram on the door. The blinds are down and it has been swaying rhythmically on its springs ever since it first arrived. In my experience that is a sure sign that the occupants are engrossed in the noble sport of fucking.

'Had they been involved in a fight, the movements would not have been nearly so regular and had the parties not been mutually eager for their encounter the duration of their activities would have been considerably shorter. Only a willing couple could have kept up the engagement for such a period of time.'

'Good God, Holmes,' I said. 'You continue to surprise me.'

'Simple observation,' he said. 'You are not, I take it, of a musical disposition? The tempo of their movements, as far as I could judge by the bouncing of the carriage, moved from lento to andante, modulated to allegro and then built up inexorably to a thrilling furioso, before subsiding once again by stages to lento.' He fingered the strings of his violin as he spoke and gazed down into the street.

'Notice also the horse,' he said, it became somewhat agitated while the bout was at its most animated. The coachman had to hold its head as it attempted to back between the shafts. Even now its nostrils are flared and it is tossing its mane.

'Animals frequently respond with great excitement in the presence of human intercourse.'

I suppose that I had never properly considered this point before, but now I came to think on it, I recalled at least two occasions when the household cat had leaped upon the bed with a great purring and head-butting while I was in the process of grappling with one or other of Mrs. P-'s daughters. Indeed I remembered Hannah, or was it Becky, bursting out in a fit of giggles as she attempted to push the persistent animal away as it tried to squeeze itself between our bodies.

'Come,' said Holmes, dragging my attention back to the present, 'We must prepare for our guest. Whatever her purpose in calling on us, she will be in sore need of something comfortable on which to recline. The sofa, I think. Help me spread this rug and pile up some cushions for her.'

Moments later the front door bell sounded and I heard the housekeeper shuffle down the hallway. Footsteps ascended the stairs and there came a quiet knock at the drawing room door.

'A lady to see you, Sir,' said Mrs. Sayers, a gaunt woman who seldom if ever smiled but was fierce in her devotion to her employer. 'She prefers not to give her name but insists that you will be pleased to receive her.'

'Show her in, Mrs. Sayers,' said Holmes.

As he said this, the door was pushed fully open and there entered an extremely handsome woman dressed in the height of fashion. Her bosom, a delightfully full bosom I could not fail to observe, rose and fell as though she was considerably out of breath. Her veil was flung back to reveal a pair of sparkling eyes with a faraway, dreamy look in them. Her lips were parted and her skin deliciously flushed.

As the door closed behind her, our visitor looked round in some state of agitation, then her glance fell on me and she started, backing away as though to leave the room.

'I had thought that you were alone,' she said to Holmes.

'My dear Lady M-,' he began.

'How… did you know my name?' she gasped.

'Suffice it to say that a trained eye and a trained memory are among the basic skills needed in my profession, while your face is not unknown in Society.'

Still exhibiting every sign of alarm, she looked questioningly in my direction.

'My assistant, Mr. Andrew Scott,' said Holmes, 'I can assure you of his complete discretion. Everything you say will be in absolute confidence.'

As I rose to be introduced, I felt a familiar stirring as Mr. Pego rose also, eager for his part for his own introduction to this enticing creature. I noticed that the all-seeing Holmes had spotted the tell-tale bulge in my trousers. One eyebrow was raised quizzically but he spared my embarrassment by keeping a straight face.

'Mr. Holmes,' said our visitor, 'forgive me for my presumption in bursting in on you unannounced but the matter is urgent. I am being blackmailed.'

'By your husband, I suspect, Ma'am,' said the detective.

'How — how on earth did you deduce that?' she said with a little gasp of surprise.

'Elementary, my dear Lady M-' he replied. 'You arrived in your own carriage. I have it on good authority that your husband is away on an official but secret mission to the Hapsburg Court concerning the recent unrest in the Balkans. Hence your dalliance at my doorstep has been with a man other than your spouse. I would add that your husband is well known for his enthusiasm for the science of photography.' He walked over to the bureau and produced a flat package from a pigeon hole, indeed these are examples of his recent endeavours.'

Our visitor let out a little cry of distress and subsided in tears upon the sofa. 'Where… where did you get them?' she asked between sobs.

'My dear, you must pull yourself together,' said Holmes. 'Scott, there is brandy in that cabinet, and glasses. Lady M- is in need of a restorative. Help yourself as well.'

'And a glass for you?' I asked.

'My pipe will suffice,' he answered, reaching for the lady's laced boot on the mantel in which I had learned he kept the unusual smoking mixture he preferred and which was provided for him by a villainous-looking Lascar seaman who called clandestinely at regular intervals.

He tamped the mixture down in his pipe, struck a lucifer and inhaled deeply. 'Aaah, the Orient brings us many pleasures,' he murmured. 'But now, to the business in hand.'

Our visitor dabbed delicately at her eyes with a flimsy handkerchief, swallowed her brandy and mutely held out her glass for replenishment. As I bent to pour another libation, I caught the tantalising scent of a woman who, whatever her present distress, had but recently been wholeheartedly engaged in the pleasures of the flesh. Mr. Pego gave another twitch. At once a warm, ungloved hand reached out and settled on the protruding source of my passions. She gave an unthinking little squeeze before realising what she was doing.

'I'm sorry,' she said pulling back from my aroused member, 'I hardly know what I am about. But thank you for your attentions.'

'Lady M-' said Holmes, drawing on his pipe, 'We have here a most unusual coincidence. These photographs were handed to me in the strictest confidence by your husband. He asked me to discover the identity of the parties involved. With your permission, I would like to show them to my assistant. He is not inexperienced in such matters. You have my word, and his, that this matter will be handled in utter secrecy.'

'Indeed, yes,' I said, although truth to tell, I had not the slightest idea of what was depicted in this substantial portfolio of likenesses, 'I shall be the soul of discretion.'

'I can see that I will have to trust you both,' said Lady M- as a deep blush spread over her face. 'But I hope that you will not think too badly of me.'

'If I may speak frankly,' said Holmes, 'I have little other than contempt for many of the public conventions of the age. Providing only that such activities are not carried out in the street where they may frighten the horses, they are largely to be encouraged. I am talking,' he said, turning to me, 'of fucking.'

Somewhat bemused by the turn of events, I could but stammer out my agreement. His opinions after all differed not one iota from those of my old headmaster, Dr White.

'But blackmail,' he continued, 'is the most loathsome of crimes. You are, Lady M-, a woman of considerable independent fortune, are you not? A fortune rather greater than that of your husband, particularly since he has lately been speculating rather unwisely in companies trading with the Baltic States and St Petersburg.'

'Indeed, yes,' she answered. 'His finances are now precarious in the extreme and he has become increasingly pressing in his suggestions that I should make over a substantial part of my capital to him so that he can avoid ruin.'

'But you have been thus far adamant in your refusal,' said Holmes.

'I have been for some years supporting a Home for Fallen Women as well as a retreat for disgraced and unfrocked clergymen, while much of the estate is entailed.

'My attorney tells me that legally I am bound to surrender all that I have to my husband if he so demands,' she continued. 'But this I will not do unless he forces the issue through the courts.'

'You do not like your husband, I take it?' said Holmes.

'Ours has not been a happy marriage,' she said. 'He is cold and domineering, obsessed with his position in Society and often unfeeling in his demands on me. For several years I have had to seek affection beyond the bonds of marriage.'

'And this search for affection has now led you to the point where he or some other who wishes you ill, has evidence that can destroy you in the eyes of the public,' said Holmes.

'Worse. He has already stated that he could have me put away in an asylum for the insane. Yet mine are surely the most natural of appetites.'

Again, an anxious hand reached out for me and clutched at my out-thrust manhood so convulsively that I flinched, fearing some damage to that most sensitive part of my anatomy'

'Ow!' I said.

'Oh, I am sorry,' she said, 'I have inadvertently hurt you. Here, let me kiss it better.'

My heart seemed to swell with pity and affection for this poor creature in distress. I vowed that I would do whatever was in my power to soothe her urgent needs. As I drew myself up to my full height and prepared a gallant speech to that effect, she unbuttoned me and my prick fairly leapt out into plain view. At once she lowered her head and gently enclosed its straining head with her lips. She licked eagerly at its tip before releasing me for a moment. 'You have a most understanding assistant, Mr. Holmes,' she said.

'There are in fact considerable limits to his powers of understanding,' said Holmes, rather unfairly I thought, 'but his heart, and indeed his other organs, seem to be in the right place.'

She bent her head once more and without more ado took my whole swollen length into her mouth, sucking and nibbling with such expert concentration that I rapidly forgot the knotty problem that she had presented us with. I decided that I would leave the more cerebral aspects of the case to Holmes. He was already poring over the photographs, tapping the mouthpiece of his pipe against his teeth, his brow wrinkled with concentration.

'There are several members represented here,' he said. 'One I believe I can put a name to. Two, I believe may come from North of the Border. Another should be easily discovered since he has only one testicle, and this one,' he gestured towards it with his pipe, 'has a curious tattoo of a Masonic nature on the foreskin.' He scrutinised the print, 'I shall need my magnifying glass. I believe you may be sitting on it, Ma'am.'

'Wfffllll, oooffl, gluppp,' she said, unable to speak with her mouth full.

Holmes looked at our visitor with a slight gesture of impatience.

'If I might prevail upon you to disengage yourself from my assistant, Ma'am, I must ask you some questions.' With a guilty start, our delightful visitor withdrew her lips that had been so energetically sucking and teasing at the by now greatly swollen head and shaft of my member. I must have made some involuntary gesture of disappointment for I had been but moments away from discharging the full contents of my throbbing testicles down the length of my cock and into that warm, receptive mouth. Realising my distress, she took hold of Mr. Pego in her hand and slipped one of her gloves on to him.

'I am sorry,' she said, 'but we have to attend to the subject of my visit. This will at least keep him warm until I am able to resume my ministrations. I know that it is unfair in the extreme to leave a man in such a state of expectation.'

How thoughtful she was, I thought to myself, although her kind action had left me in a rather delicate social dilemma. It would be ungallant to remove a lady's glove when it had been so understandingly pressed upon me, yet I could not easily thrust prick and glove together back inside my trousers. I realised that I should have to leave my unusually ornamented member protruding en plein air while I played my part in the consultation that was about to begin.

'Let us first consider whether the blackmailer is in fact your husband and not some other scoundrel who has gained access to the evidence of your extra-marital adventures,' said Holmes. 'May I ask you, Ma'am, to describe in detail the circumstances of the delivery of the threat.'

'Some three weeks ago,' said Lady M-, 'a large envelope was presented at the front door by a street urchin. He announced to my maid that he had been handed the package by a man he had never seen before, along with tuppence, and told to ensure that it was delivered to me personally, and that it contained documents of a strictly private nature and was to be opened by no-one but myself.'

'An impertinent demand,' said Holmes. 'But do you recall anything distinctive about your visitor?'

'He was an urchin like any other,' Lady M- replied. 'Badly dressed in hand-me-downs and clearly a stranger to soap and water.'

'And did you not ask about the stranger who had entrusted him with the errand?'

'Why, no,' she said hesitantly. 'You will understand that I am not unaccustomed to the clandestine delivery of billets doux and letters of assignation.'

'Of course,' said Holmes. 'Given the nature and, may I say, the complexity of your extra-domestic arrangements, such anonymous missives must arrive with some regularity.'

'That is so,' she said with a quick smile as she dropped her eyes in modesty. Unfortunately this caused her gaze to fasten upon my gloved member and she gave a little giggle. A consolatory hand reached out and, like a devout Catholic playing unconsciously with her rosary beads, she began to fiddle with me. Some instinct, most probably of neatness, led her to smooth the glove along my ramrod so that the head was forced into the opening of the middle finger of the glove. Such an entry was of course impossible and as the thin fabric stretched in its unachievable task of containment, I realised that if she continued with this course of action, however pleasant, some damage to the seams of the thin silk of her glove would inevitably be done.

I closed my hand over hers in warning. She ceased her stroking and pulling but continued to hold on to the tip between her thumb and first finger. Absent-mindedly she continued to toy with it, as though seeking some assurance.

At this juncture, Holmes smacked the dottle out of his pipe against the fender and held it out in my direction. 'A two pipe problem,' he said, if you would be so good as to replenish it. A generous filling, and packed well down.'

As I prised my prick somewhat reluctantly from the hands of Lady M- and her gentle kneadings, I took the proffered pipe and began to stuff it with the sweet-smelling oriental mixture.

'Now,' said Holmes, 'the note. Do you still have it?? 'I have brought it with me,' said Lady M — , 'together with the enclosures.'

'Enclosures?' said Holmes.

'A set of pictures that would appear to be duplicates of those that you have received. Although I have of course had but the briefest glimpse of your set.'

'May I inspect the note first of all,' said Holmes.

She reached into her reticule and drew out a well-folded piece of paper.

'An obviously disguised hand,' said Holmes, 'but clearly that of a man of some education, correct in the spelling and grammatical construction. We are not dealing with some working class fellow from the criminal classes.'

'A man?' I asked. 'How can you tell?'

'You will find in the library a monograph on the science of handwriting,' he said a little impatiently. 'Written by myself, it was, in all modesty, well received by the Society of Calligraphers when I presented it at their annual conference. The fruits of a lifetime's study. I have conclusively demonstrated that the gender, class and much of the character of any individual can be deduced from a careful examination of even the smallest sample of a script.

'I have attempted long and fruitlessly, I am sorry to say, to engage the interest of those clodhopping asses at Scotland Yard in my researches. It could in many cases be a valuable aid to detection. You may recall the Case of the One-Armed Plenipotentiary where I was able to render some small service to the forces of law and order. The Home Secretary of the time was rightfully very grateful and a discreet Honour was subsequently bestowed on me at a private investiture by Her Majesty. Not that I set any store by such baubles. The successful application of the Intellect in the solution of any problem is satisfaction enough, I find.'

I could not but notice that a note close to self-satisfaction had crept into his voice. Lady M-was also growing a little restless as he reminisced. She caught my eye, smiled, and fingered the top buttons of her dress in a most provocative fashion. As she drew a deep breath, her enticing bosom rose so that the shadowed valley between her creamy, plump titties was exposed. Mr. Pego, who had been showing some signs of relaxing, re-erected in an instant.

Meanwhile Holmes took a deep suck at his pipe, drawing the smoke down into his lungs and holding it there. His eyes closed as though in a trance. 'Aaarrrgh,' he murmured as he exhaled, 'I feel my mental processes at work.'

Lady M-reached out and took my hand in hers. She raised it to her lips and moistened a fingertip before inserting it deep down the front of her barely buttoned bodice and placing it on the unseen nipple that rose unhesitatingly to my touch. Gently I rubbed it and felt it hard and fat against my skin. She leaned forward so that her breast nestled in my cupped hand. I squeezed it carefully, trying not to disturb Holmes' cerebral concentration.

Holmes began to read, at first to himself but then out loud.

'“If you wish to retain your place in polite society, you will recognise, dear Lady M-, that it would be greatly to your advantage to obtain possession, not only of these prints but of the original photographic plates. These can be delivered to you with complete discretion at any time that you may choose. We both understand that the greatest care must be taken to ensure that they do not fall into the hands of any third party, in particular the editor of one of the public prints, nor, it goes without saying, of your husband.

'“There will of course be certain unavoidable expenses in order to assure both safe delivery of the originals and to ensure my continued silence in the matter.'”

Holmes read on silently. Lady M-had frozen at his words, my hand still clamped firmly on her breast. I essayed a tentative squeeze to show my sympathy with her plight but she did not react. Mr. Pego, sensitive as ever to the nuances of the situation, lowered his head. Holmes read on, once more out loud.

'The transfer of a very substantial amount of money will be necessary.'

Lady M-bowed her head and a tear trickled down her cheek. I pulled her glove off my prick and handed it to her so that she could mop her eyes. She sniffed.

'Thank you Mr.-?' she said.

'Scott,' I said. 'Andrew Scott.'

'Thank you, Andrew,' she said. 'You are most sympathetic.' She turned to Holmes. 'The sum demanded,' she said, 'will come close to beggaring me.'

She stood up suddenly and began to pace the room, unconscious that her splendid bosom was spilling out of her dress. So abrupt had been her movement that I fell forward on my knees, Mr. Pego flopping on to the carpet as a milky bead of cum hung suspended from his tip. Holmes noticed.

'The rug is Turkish,' he said. 'From a village close to the Persian border. The same area from which I obtain my smoking mixture. I would be grateful if you can avoid staining it. It is very precious. The only other is in the Victoria and Albert Museum.'

I scooped my member up and wiped it with Lady M-'s discarded glove. 'My apologies,' I said, but Holmes' attention was once more directed to the matter of the blackmailing letter.

'But the money can be raised?' he went on.

'Just,' she said.

'Which suggests either that this is an improbable coincidence or that the demand comes from someone with an intimate knowledge of your financial affairs. We are dealing with a well-informed scoundrel. I notice however that there is no mention of the means by which these funds are to be transferred.'

'If you read on,' said Lady M — , 'you will see that he promises a further communication. All I am asked to do at this juncture is to assent in principle to his demands. A messenger is to call for my reply at some time in the next week.'

'Then we must be present also,' said Holmes.

'But he enjoins the strictest confidence,' she said.

'Never fear,' said Holmes, 'we shall be nearby but unnoticed when the agent of this diabolical plot arrives.'

'How will you ensure that?' she asked. 'The time is not stated. You might, I suppose, be lodged in my household.'

'That, alas, would be most unwise,' said Holmes. 'The arrival of two male guests while your husband is absent abroad would certainly be noticed in the neighbourhood. All my experience confirms that servants are inveterate gossips. Very little escapes their eyes and everything that is noticed becomes the subject of tittle-tattle amongst all their fellows in the vicinity. That is why I make the point of keeping the smallest establishment possible. Mrs. Sayers is the soul of discretion while Mr. Scott here will already have noticed that the boy and the maids speak only Portuguese: a language not generally understood in this country. I interviewed them all personally whilst in Oporto two years ago, where I was solving the Case of the Adulterated Wine.'

As with Colonel Moore, I realised that I was in the habit of falling in with men prone to digression.

'So what will we do?' I asked, dragging him back from triumphs past to problems present.

'That we will discuss later,' he said. 'But a scheme is forming in my mind. Rest assured, Lady M-that when the messenger returns, we will be present and observing all that transpires, although I suspect that you will not be aware of us.'

'So you are convinced that this vile plot is definitely all the work of my husband?' said Lady M-.

'In all probability,' said Holmes, 'although we must not discount the possibility that two separate attempts are being made to divest you of your fortune.'

'How horrible,' she said, 'I am ever too trusting of human nature.'

'And also somewhat careless with your affairs, Ma'am,' said Holmes, 'I would in future counsel some care in the bestowal of your favours.'

'I will try,' said our visitor, 'but you must understand that I am not one of your blue-stockinged, intellectual modern women. To put it bluntly, I have needs that have to be satisfied.'

'You like fucking,' said Holmes, bluntly.

'It is I suppose my chief enjoyment in life,' she said, drawing herself up to her full height and looking him straight in the eye.

'But until this frightful business is cleared up, I do most strongly suggest that you are, if not wholly continent, at least careful. Take for instance the gentleman who is waiting for you outside in your carriage.'

'An old friend,' she said. 'One who I can trust.'

'Will he not be becoming bored with the wait?' I asked.

'I suspect not,' Lady M-said with a roguish grin. 'He was well drained from his exertions when I left him. He deserves some rest. But how did you know of his presence?'

'You were observed,' said Holmes. 'Or rather the vigorous motion of your carriage was observed.'

Lady M-blushed, 'I was so nervous concerning my visit to you that Matthew decided that I needed to have my mind taken off my plight for a few minutes.'

'Three quarters of an hour,' said Holmes.

'Good Gracious! Was it that long? How time does fly when one is fucking. Anyway, I did feel much better afterwards. But now I am beginning to feel rather tense.' Again she involuntarily reached out and clutched my member. I winced.

'Oh, sorry!' she said. 'I've squeezed you too hard.'

'Not at all,' I said, blinking a little as tears sprang to my eyes. She relaxed her grip and began to caress my prick with regular but gentle strokes. All the pain was quickly soothed away and it thrust boldly out once more.

'If you feel the need of some further relaxing exercise,' said Holmes, 'pray do not hesitate. I am certain that Scott will help you and I need to ponder some more on what is to be done.'

'That is very understanding of you,' she said, if Andrew is prepared to help a lady in distress-'

'By all means,' I answered, delighted at the realisation that I could actually help Holmes in his professional endeavours while at the same time assisting this poor suffering creature to gain some semblance of relief. 'Anything I can do to ease your anguish,' I said.

'I suggest that you ease your prick into my pussey,' she said with that commendable directness of expression that so often marks the upper echelons of our society. 'Now, off with your trousers!'

I did as I was told. She fairly threw herself backward upon the cushions, pulled up her dress and raised her knees. Without more ado, I lowered myself on to her.

Lady M- was clearly thoroughly experienced in such matters. There was none of that clumsy bumping and boring that so often attends the fumbling embraces of the novice. Mr. Pego immediately slipped through the already damp thickets of her pussey hair and found the moist entrance to her cave of delights. At his touch, she wriggled her bum into a more comfortable position and opened up before me. Almost without effort, the entire length of my prick sank into her up to the hilt. I paused as she tightened her grip on me and a smile of pure pleasure lit up her face.

'That is just what I need,' she said, holding me for a moment or two.

Slowly I began to slide easily up and down her warmly clinging cunney. She in turn began to rise to meet my thrusting. Like any gentleman, I endeavoured to keep my weight on my elbows and, intent though I was on my delightful task, I could not help but notice that Holmes, not one whit put out by the scene that was being enacted in front of him, was scrutinising the photographic prints he held out before him. At one point he peered intently at some detail on a print using a magnifying glass. Then he screwed a monocle into place, raised his head and stared at Lady M-'s private parts now fully revealed as her dress rode up over her stomach with its deep-set navel.

'A memorable bush,' he murmured to himself. 'And a certain identification.'

Meanwhile the pace of our efforts had been increasing. It was as though we had fucked many times before. Our breathing was in unison, deeper now as a slight sheen of sweat oiled our bodies. My prick tingled with the firm pressure of her inner walls. We fitted together as though a benign Providence had designed each for the other.

Now she lifted up her legs still further and crossed them behind my waist, pressing me down into her, yet she did not grasp me so tightly as to inhibit my rhythm. We speeded up and then with a natural control, relaxed our efforts a little. Again our efforts increased and again slowed down. She had a wonderful sense of timing, understanding as though by instinct when to lower the tension so that our pleasure might be prolonged.

Holmes meanwhile had taken a pair of callipers from a desk drawer and was taking careful measurements from the photographs, noting down the results in a small book. His brow was a little furrowed as he concentrated on his task but there was a slight smile of satisfaction on his lips. Then he looked around him.

'Scott, could you-' he began and then pulled himself together, realising that I was far too buried in my own work to assist him. 'I am sorry,' he said, 'Do carry on.'

We did indeed carry on. Lady M-had in any case clearly not heard his half-swallowed remarks. She was absolutely absorbed in our joint venture. Throughout our whole fuck she concentrated entirely on her pleasure and mine. Without any sense of artifice or unnatural effort, she both responded to my needs and attended to her own. She was of that admirable school of thought that holds that fucking is an activity for two. There was no mindless surrender to her own desires at the expense of my own. Nor was there any watchful deference to my will or possible demands such as is found in some of the more professional ladies that I have encountered.

So we fucked for a considerable time, locked together as one. Yet gradually the intensity of our activities increased. Each renewed level in tempo took us one step towards the final climax. From an easy canter, the pace was raised to a full yet sustainable gallop. I wondered at my own stamina. I was dimly aware that outside dusk must be falling as Holmes, with the thoughtful man's true patience, continued with his own intellectual efforts but allowed Mrs. Sayers into the room to move softly about, lighting the gas and attending to the fire.

Then the rate of our striking increased still further as I drove in and out of my ever-responsive companion. Somewhere in the hallway I was aware of a clock chiming. At that moment I felt the first pulsation as my balls began to release what was to prove a veritable tidal wave of cum. As it began to flood unstoppably down my cock, I sensed that she also had reached that same point of abandonment to our bodily demands. It was as though she widened, opening out to receive my libations as they jetted time and time again into her. She did not cry out but moaned softly, then suddenly caught her breath. She matched my every surge as though she also was discharging her cum into me. But still there was no sense of desperation but rather a feeling of inevitability as tide met tide and mingled in one rush and whirlpool of coming. So completely taken up was I by our climax that I swear the house could have burnt down without my noticing. Each jet felt now as though it must surely be the last, yet time and time again I felt one further eruption churning inside me. I was panting and shuddering as though I was emptying my entire being into her.

Then, imperceptibly, the pace began to slacken. Amazingly, we did not stop. There was no final exhausted thrust. No sudden collapse. Smoothly but inevitably we slowed, both breathing deeply, relaxing gently, still responding each to the other. Both of us began to be more aware of our surroundings. She turned her head to one side, a look of complete satisfaction and fulfilment spreading over her face.

'Stay inside me,' she said quietly, 'I can still feel you.' Then she hugged me to her, tucking her head into my shoulder. A last quiver of mixed emotion and cum flowed from me and we held each other silently.

'Forty-seven minutes,' said Holmes, fishing out a half hunter from his waistcoat pocket. 'A remarkable performance. I suggest a brandy, when you have disentangled yourselves.'

'I did not realise that we were being timed,' I said, a little put out by his attentions.

'Purely in the interests of Science,' said Holmes. 'The scientific measurement of all manifestations of human activity is one of my particular areas of intellectual endeavour. Alas, there has been as yet little published statistical evidence of the duration range of human sexual congress. A lack that I hope to remedy in a paper that I am preparing for private circulation within the next eighteen months. The evidence that I have collected so far is most interesting. One minute is the shortest time I have recorded. Yours was one of the more prolonged encounters I have been able to witness. However explorers in the East claim that four hours or more of coitus uninterruptus is regularly achieved among the adepts of some of the mystic sects of Tibet.'

'An indoor record, I imagine,' I said.

'A record but not necessarily indoors,' he replied. 'Well over two hours in a snow drift in the foothills of the Himalayas has been observed.'

'Both parties being well wrapped up?' said Lady M-, beginning to take an interest in the conversation.

'Stark naked, in fact,' said Holmes. 'Both of them.'

'Who was on top?' asked Lady M-.

'They changed positions several times,' said Holmes. 'The most fascinating fact is that none of the snow melted. It seems that through long training, they were able to retain all their body heat and concentrate exclusively on their exertions.'

'Amazing!' I said.

'On the contrary,' said Holmes. 'Through life-long spiritual immersion in the arts of Yoga, the swamis, as they are called, can attain complete control of all their bodily functions.'

'Like those pictures of old men with long beards, sitting on beds of nails and feeling no pain,' I said.

'But do they ever fuck on beds of nails?' asked Lady M-.

'Only the most advanced initiates,' said Holmes. 'There are dangers of course.'

'I shall stick to beds and sofas and carpets,' said Lady M-.

'And carriages,' I added, remembering the long session that Holmes at least had viewed from the window.

'I have tried it on a croquet lawn,' she went on. 'But we bent two of the hoops in our efforts.'

'But the hoops at croquet are set some considerable distance apart,' said Holmes thoughtfully, 'I must consult the rules for the correct spacing.'

'It was a rolling fuck,' said Lady M-. 'We did do some damage to the turf as I recall.'

'There was not a game actually in progress at the time, I assume?' I said.

'At the beginning,' said Lady M-. 'I have a distinct recollection of being struck by a croquet ball quite early on in our encounter, but then the other parties fell to fucking as well, except for the bishop.'

'A bishop!' I exclaimed.

'I remember looking up and seeing a pair of clerical gaiters at my head, and above them a large pectoral cross dangling over a purple-clad paunch.'

'And was nothing said?' I asked.

'Nothing at the time,' she said. 'Although I recall afterwards that there was something of an atmosphere over tea. Meaningful looks exchanged over the scones. That sort of thing. Of course the silly man should have joined in instead of trying to play on and ending up losing his balls in the shrubbery.'

'What!' I said.

'Well, nearly,' said Lady M r-. 'He became entangled in a snare that had been set by one of the keepers.'

'Shooting and sex,' said Holmes. 'The preoccupations of the Landed Gentry through the ages. However, we must return to the subject of your visit, Lady M-. A plan is beginning to form in my mind.'

I should at this point explain the rather unusual circumstances that had led to my acting as the temporary assistant to Mr. Porlock Holmes who readers will recognise as being the greatest amateur detective of our age.

Mrs. P-, the widow in whose house I lodged in Bayswater, had as I have previously mentioned in my memoirs, a considerable interest in certain aspects of the Classical and Oriental Arts. She was, for instance, one of a small group of cognoscenti who had long been urging Mr. Richard Burton, the noted explorer, to translate into English such eastern texts as the Perfumed Garden and the Karma Sutra. She engaged in frequent and detailed correspondence with a learned circle of scholars of the erotic. In addition one of her daughters, Hannah, was an artist and potter of growing repute as well as being, along with her sister, a frequent partner of mine in the amatory arts. She was particularly interested in recreating the styles and techniques of some of the more unrestrained early Greek ceramic artists.

It happened one evening, just as I was looking forward to one of our regular postprandial entertainments of a sexual nature, involving Hannah, her sister Becky and in all probability several of their friends, that Mrs. P-announced towards the end of dinner that her friend Mr. Porlock Holmes was interested in commissioning from Hannah a substantial vase, to be decorated with some scene from Greek mythology.

'What subject does he have in mind?' asked Hannah.

'He is as yet undecided,' her mother answered, indeed he is prepared to be guided by you in the matter. He did though mention various subjects including Europa and the Bull and Prometheus Condemned to Eternal Punishment.'

'What about Leda and the Swan?' suggested Hannah.

'My grounding in the Greek myths is, I regret, uncertain,' I said.

'A constant theme,' said Mrs. P — , 'is that of one of the Gods, in most cases Zeus, descending in various guises and surprising some hapless nymph or sprite and then leaping on her with great gusto. The unfortunate Leda was one such unwilling object of his attentions.'

'For the occasion, he took the form of a large swan,' said Hannah.

'What was the outcome?' I asked.

'An egg, or eggs,' said her mother. 'One hatched into the twins Castor and Pollux.'

'And according to some authorities of Antiquity, the fair Helen was also the fruit of their union,' Hannah added.

'That would seem a thoroughly suitable subject,' said Becky, 'I would be more than happy to pose as Leda. I see myself down on all fours, possibly looking at my reflection in the water and wearing something diaphanous in white.'

As I pictured the scene I began to see a part for myself.

'I would be more than happy to surprise you in such a position,' I offered.

'I don't doubt it,' said Becky. 'But you would have to be covered with feathers.'

'With his arms outstretched like wings,' said Hannah, clearly visualising the scene.'

'And a beak,' said Becky with a teasing smile.

'And webbed feet,' added her sister. I sensed a note of ridicule creeping into the conversation.

'Let us ring for cook,' said Becky, 'I know that, she is intending to serve up a goose for tomorrow's dinner. I saw the poulterer delivering a large, well-feathered bird earlier today.'

By now I was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole endeavour but before I could protest, cook was summoned to confirm her plans. Moments later I found myself down in the kitchen, face to face with a substantial dead specimen of Anser Domesticus.

'Just the thing,' said Hannah, seized with enthusiasm. 'We shall pluck it immediately.'

'I, in the meantime, will go and pick out some suitable drapery,' said Becky.

'Give cook a hand,' said Hannah to me.

'Plucking is not one of my skills,' I said hastily.

'Then you must learn,' said Hannah firmly. 'First the plucking and then the fucking. You cannot take part in one without the other.'

'Don't worry, Mr. Andrew,' said cook. 'Just watch what I do and follow me.'

Thus it was that some ten minutes later I found myself holding a stripped and naked bird while a stripped and naked Becky crouched invitingly in front of me.

'Are you certain that you will be able to perform to the satisfaction both of my sister and myself?'

'I have never failed yet,' I answered, my pride somewhat hurt.

'That is true,' said Becky. 'But in this case you will have to exercise a considerable degree of self-control. Several sessions will be necessary, so that my sister can sketch the tableau to her satisfaction. Are you sure that you will be able to hold your position without moving. Here!'

In an instant I had been forced down onto one knee while my arms were stretched out like wings. Becky and Hannah, quite ignoring my protestations, pushed and pulled me this way and that, standing back at intervals to scrutinise the effect.

'Right hand down a bit,' said Hannah. 'Can you get him to bend forward a little more.'

'Let's try him standing up and bending forward,' said Becky, dragging me to my feet.

'Legs a little apart,' said her sister. 'He's a bit stiff.'

'He frequently is,' said Becky with a grin. 'But not all over.'

The fact of the matter was that I was being so manipulated and shoved around that Mr. Pego was at his most shrivelled and limp. This to my chagrin was revealed when both sisters began to divest me of all my clothing. Both looked sorrowfully at my state.

'Upstairs,' said Becky. 'At least it will be warmer, and I would prefer carpet rather than stone flags under me.'

Clutching a bowl of feathers, I was urged up the stairs. Once in the drawing room before a blazing fire, I felt more at ease. Hannah went off to bring her crayons and sketch pad, while Becky began to try various nymph-like positions in front of me. As she raised up her delicious bum, Mr. Pego awoke from his slumber and jutted out in front of me. Unable to resist what was spread out before me, I dropped to a kneeling position behind her and with my hands on her hips, drew her to me. The tip of my prick slid easily between her thighs and began to probe at the entry to her lovely cunney.

'Can you keep it just like that,' said Hannah as she suddenly came into the room. I groaned with frustration and moved forward another inch or so.

'Don't let him in, Hannah,' said Becky, in this instance Nature must wait upon Art.'

' I seem to be suffering for your Art,' I said, a little bitterly, but, I thought, rather cleverly.

'Come out of my sister at once,' said Hannah, failing completely to respond to my witticism.

Becky it was who took pity on me. 'Later, Andrew,' she said, 'I can promise you an absolutely splendid fuck. And no doubt my sister can be prevailed upon to join in our activities. See, already I am quite damp with anticipation of what is to come. But now you must be greased and feathered. Arms out.'

Accepting my fate, I stood up. I was liberally smeared with what seemed to be lard, and first the down and then a selection of large wing feathers was pressed on to me. At this point both Becky and Hannah burst out laughing.

'Not at all like a Greek God,' said one.

'More like a scarecrow,' said the other.

At this point I became quite angry. 'You are making fun of me,' I said, making as though to leave the room.

'Come back at once,' said Hannah. 'Don't be so stuffy. See, we can all join in.' With that she slapped a pat of lard or butter on her sister's bared bottom and threw the rest of the feathers at her so that they stuck to her all over. Becky gave a squeal of protest and pulled at her sister's dress. In a trice they were wrestling over and over on the rug in a great confusion of discarded clothing and sticky feathers.

'Mr. Porlock Holmes,' announced Emily the maid, suddenly appearing at the door. 'Shall I show him in?'

'The Library,' said Becky, choking with laughter and a mouthful of fluff. 'Mother will entertain him, at least until we are more presentable.'

So it was that a few minutes later I made my first acquaintance with the world's greatest detective. He was sitting at a desk in the library, smoking the oddly smelling pipe that I was later to come to know so well. Mrs. P-was beside him and together they were poring over a large volume of what I later discovered to be Etruscan drawings.

'Mr. Scott,' said Mrs. P- as he looked up. 'He is presently staying with us. He is aware of the commission that you have in mind and has kindly offered to help in any way he can.'

'He is to be our Swan,' said Hannah. 'Although up to now he had not numbered bird impressions among his repertoire.'

'Cygnus olor, gibbus or mansuetus, the Mute Swan,' said our learned guest. 'A graceful creature, if one of uncertain temper. You are familiar with the genus Cygnus of the family Anatidae?'

'I have seen them swimming about,' I said. 'But must admit that I have not studied their habits in depth.'

'I am certain that the Misses P- will complete your education. As an artist, Hannah is well trained in observation while Becky has a nurse's interest in anatomy,' he said, 'I look forward to seeing the first sketches in due course but will not intrude on your work. I have, in any case, a small problem on which Mrs. P-can in all probability give me the benefit of her considerable learning. The case I talk of,' he said, turning to his hostess, Ms that of the Incontinent Cabinet Minister. A matter of great delicacy for I fear that the Irish Question has raised its ever-importunate head. I sense a Fenian plot.'

'How much I regret the failure of Mr. Gladstone's Home Rule Bill,' I said, determined to demonstrate to the great man that I had a sound grasp of the political issues of our time.

'He once accosted me in the street,' said Becky, 'I believe that he mistook me for one of his Fallen Women.'

'It is important for a man to have some interest in his life other than his work,' said Holmes. 'Even a Prime Minister. I myself, apart from my musical endeavours, am particularly interested in the problems posed by the employment of barmaids in many of our public houses. On the one hand it is argued that they are in a position of obvious moral danger, working as they do in close proximity to both men and strong liquors. On the other, the barmaid is in a situation, unusual particularly among working class women, of being able to dictate the behaviour of men. She can, for instance, refuse to serve any fellow who is being rowdy or objectionable. She can even order him out of the premises. So the question is raised as to whether the opportunities outweigh the dangers.

'Of course, in the interests of the Science of Detection, I have from time to time to enter, usually in disguise, many of the vilest drinking dens in the poorest parts of our city. It was on one such visit that I first became interested in the problem. I was, if I recall aright, at that time engaged on the Case of the Jaundiced Debutante, at the instigation of her mother, the Marchioness of Bolsover. But I am becoming indiscreet.'

He turned to Mrs. P-. 'Have you a large-scale map of the County of Sligo in Ireland?' he asked, 'I must return to my intellectual labours and you to your artistic endeavours.'

Becky, Hannah and myself, thus dismissed, returned to the drawing room where Becky and I at once removed our clothing and I was greased and feathered before being pushed and patted into position, hovering, more like a vulture than a swan, as Hannah said, over Becky's invitingly bared bottom.

Hannah sketched industriously away. I was driven to shut my eyes in order to resist the temptation that stared me in the face. Crouching as I was with arms outstretched, down on one knee and with my eyes tight shut, I found it extraordinarily difficult to keep my balance. My plight was not helped when Becky could not resist the temptation to inch backwards so that I could feel the cleft of her buttocks pressing lightly against the tip of my engorged prick.

Hannah did not help matters. 'A little further forward,' she said. 'Can you open yourself up a bit, Becky.'

The strain was too much for me. Carefully I half opened one eye. Becky had reached back and with both hands had pulled her cheeks apart. Her tight little arsehole was flaunted, scarcely half an inch from my cock.

'He's peeking!' said Hannah to her sister. 'Supposing he was to enter just a little way into you. You could hold him fast in position and he could keep his balance. Don't drop your arms,' she said to me sharply. 'I'll arrange things.' She moved over to me and took my prick firmly in her hand.

'I've got it lined up,' she said to her sister. 'Just ease your way backwards on to him.'

Becky shuffled backwards and I inched my way into her.

'That's enough,' said Hannah. 'Now, hang on tight.'

'He's a bit big,' said Becky.

'Goose grease,' said Hannah. “That will do the trick.' Carefully she smeared some of the by now warm fat on my cock. 'Try again,' she said.

This time I slid smoothly into her. Becky released her grip on her bum cheeks and as they closed about me, I was held fast.

'Just like that,' said Hannah. 'That's just about right. Andrew, you're sagging!' I must have looked surprised for seldom if ever had Mr. Pego been more proudly erect.

'Your arms,' said Hannah, recognising my confusion, it's your arms. They're drooping.' She pulled both arms upwards so that I looked more like some great bird of prey swooping down on its victim. She stood back and scrutinised the scene that she had arranged.

'That will have to do,' she said and retreated to her sketch pad.

'I'm tired,' I said, for the strain on my shoulders was beginning to tell.

'We could prop him up,' said Hannah. 'I'll get one of the maids to bring up a couple of pieces of wood.'

'Like splints,' said Becky. 'We have been taught how to do that in the hospital. Andrew, you can relax for a minute or two until we get this fixed up.' With a sigh of relief I let my aching arms drop and at the same time surreptitiously pushed forward. Becky wriggled her bum and all of a sudden I had measured my full length into her. She let out a little yelp of pleasure and settled herself once more, gripping me round the base of my swollen member. I gritted my teeth and tried to keep control of myself.

It was in this position that Emily the maid found us when she answered the bell.

'This is Art,' said Hannah firmly to her. Instructions were issued to the startled servant. Two broomsticks were procured and bound firmly to my arms. The ends were jammed rather uncomfortably into my armpits while the heads, a mop in one case and a stiff yard broom in the other, projected out beyond my fingers' ends. Two chairs were propped under my splinted arms. Becky remained in position, clasping me warmly in her bum. I had seldom if ever felt so foolish. The situation was not improved when Emily stepped back from her handiwork and burst out laughing. At once she was all confusion and embarrassment.

'I'm sorry, Miss Hannah,' she said. 'But he does look so funny.'

Hannah joined in the laughter, clutching at Emily as they both gave way to complete hysterics. Becky also began to choke with uncontrollable giggles and the vibrations so teased my prick that I found myself being squeezed and teased to a point where I could no longer control myself. I began to thrust backwards and forwards into her. Becky, her head cradled in her arms, began to react as her desire for a good bum fucking fought with her determination to help her sister in her classical efforts.

With my arms still pinioned and propped, I was now driving energetically into Becky's eagerly responding bum. Suddenly one chair overbalanced and I half fell over sideways in a clatter of furniture. Becky reared up and I collapsed on to her, one wing sticking up in the air and the other trailing on the ground like a hen partridge feigning injury. So slippery were Becky and I with the now melting grease that only her tightly clamped sphincter prevented my complete downfall.

'How Athenian,' said a male voice. Unnoticed, Porlock Holmes had entered the room.

'A most interesting situation,' he said. Stepping forward, he set the overturned chair upright once more and set me on an even keel with each arm once more supported. Becky's succulent titties were still heaving and trembling with her half-stifled laughter. Fastidiously, he wiped the grease from his hands on the crumpled piece of drapery that had long since fallen off Becky's naked body. With his head set on one side he eyed his handiwork before arranging the thin material over her body. Seemingly satisfied, he seated himself at the table and took out his pipe.

'Mr. Scott,' he said, 'I have a proposition for you. My assistant Dr Motson has had to leave the country for a few weeks. Some fuss with the governing body of the Royal College of Physicians. I regret that he has made enemies among the senior members of his Profession. Some trumped up charge involving medical ethics following his invaluable assistance to me in the Case of the Pregnant Mother Superior. It will all doubtless blow over as these things do, but meanwhile, I am without his help. I mentioned my problem to the good Lady of the House and she suggested that you might be interested in taking over Dr Motson's duties for a short while. She assures me that you have handled at least one delicate errand for her, concerning, I believe, Rosie, the Errant Schoolgirl and she further describes you as adaptable and resourceful.'

'He has indeed proved himself able and willing to rise to the occasion whatever has taken place in our house,' volunteered Hannah, rather nicely I thought.

'If a little clumsily,' added Becky, sot to voce from her position on the carpet. She pushed backwards over-vigorously and I fell off my perch once more. She remained impaled on me and as I tried to scramble back into my classical pose, pushed again so that I fell over backwards, she sitting on my upthrust manhood. Holmes appeared to take no notice of the flailing and tumbling that was going on under his eyes. Swatting a couple of floating feathers away from his face, he sucked on his pipe and I smelt the exotic fumes with which I was later to grow so familiar.

It was in these unusual circumstances that I became the temporary assistant to the Greatest Detective of our Age. I had never before been offered employment while lying flat on my back with a naked woman speared on my prick, but my old headmaster had long since impressed on his pupils that opportunities must be seized with both hands, even if, as in this case, both hands were strapped to broomsticks. I assented to his interesting offer and arrangements were made for my new employment.

'I look forward to seeing the outcome of your artistic imagination,' Holmes said to Hannah courteously. Emily fetched his cape and rather odd hat and he made his Goodbyes. Prometheus was Unbound and we fucked merrily on the carpet, Hannah putting away her drawing materials and joining in, although not before she and Emily had thoroughly sponged down both her sister and I.

Two days later I was delivered, bag and baggage, to Porlock Holmes' rooms in a house close to the Metropolitan Railway Company's station on the Marylebone Road.

A further week and my involvement in the Case of the Blackmailed Wife was underway. I was impersonating a crossing sweeper and keeping watch on all who called at a house in Belgrave Square.

'What happened to the usual crossing sweeper?' asked the fellow in livery.

For a moment I was minded to tell him sharply that it was none of his business, but then remembered that I must behave according to my subservient situation. Holmes had taken up his duties early that morning and had instructed me firmly that I was to take over from him at midday.

'Every visitor to Lady M-'s Belgrave Square establishment is to be noted,' he had said, in particular any errand boy and member of the Servant class must be regarded with suspicion. All we know is that a message is to be delivered from the blackmailer during the course of this week.'

Becky and Hannah, who had been made partially privy to my task, had fitted me out in an ill-fitting, shabby set of clothes, enlisting the services of Mary the maid.

Holmes, for his part, had been so thoroughly disguised that I had completely failed to recognise him when I presented myself at the street corner at the ordained time.

'Pssst!' A chesty but tremulous voice had whispered as I cast about me. He had entered thoroughly into the spirit of the adventure. Instead of the upright, elegant figure that I had come to know, a crabbed, bent creature approached me. Using all his theatrical skills, he had contrived a hare lip and the mottled complexion of one who spends too much of his time and money in sordid drinking dens.

I caught a pungent whiff of sweat and horse manure as he murmured his instructions in my ear. I recoiled as though by instinct from this stained, consumptively coughing figure.

'Scott!' he said urgently, it is I! Take this broom. I have to return to my rooms. I shall return later in the afternoon, around half past four. I have here a list of the regular callers, together with details of their appearance. If Lady M-has the opportunity to alert you, her lady's maid will appear at the window at the left hand side of the first floor. If you see her signal, you are to follow anyone not of the household who leaves.'

'Supposing he does not set off on foot?' I asked.

'There is a cab waiting round the corner. The driver is a reliable man whom I have used on many such occasions. He will do exactly as you say,' said Holmes. 'On no account are you to lose our quarry. If you are not present when I return, I shall assume that you are in hot pursuit. When you have some news, you are to return at once to my rooms, no matter what the hour.'

I had been engaged in my simulated employment for about an hour when this inquisitive servant accosted me.

'Old George is not well,' I said, remembering my script. 'His leg is troubling him more than usual. My uncle and I are taking it in turns to carry out his functions until he is recovered.'

'That would be the decrepit creature whom I saw this morning,' said the fellow. 'Don't go away. My mistress may have an errand for you.' With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the steps of one of the houses adjoining Lady M-'s.

This left me in something of a quandary since I could not desert my post without incurring the wrath of Holmes. However, I could hardly protest without my interlocutor becoming suspicious. I could but hope that his mistress would not have need of my services.

My hopes were to be clashed. Scarcely ten minutes had gone by when he returned.

'You are to come with me,' he said. 'My mistress needs your services.' He strode off haughtily without giving me the opportunity to demur. Reluctantly I tailed behind him. We went in through the servants' entrance and I was taken into a hallway and then upstairs, through a baize-covered door into the family's part of the house.

'In here!' he ordered brusquely, 'And wait. You will be given your instructions shortly. Nothing is to be made dirty.' Here he wrinkled his nose with disgust. 'Remain standing. The silver is all counted.'

I half opened my mouth in order to damn him for his impertinence when I recalled that I must, at all costs, remain in my character as a member of the lowest orders. I tugged at my forelock with a dirt-stained hand and cringed.

'Of course, Sir,' I said, 'I hope I know my place.'

He eyed me disdainfully, turned and left the room. I stood there, inwardly cursing my luck that had taken me from my observation station. As I stood at the window, the door opened and what was clearly the lady of the house swept in. She halted and ran an imperious eye over me.

'You're a thoroughly dirty fellow,' she said. 'And rather younger than the old man who performed this morning's duties.'

Obviously Holmes had also been dragged in from the street, although he had said nothing of this when I took over from him.

'My uncle, Ma'am,' I said.

'I hope you prove to be somewhat more vigorous in the discharge of your duties. He wheezed most horribly and indeed had to be revived by cook with a bowl of soup.'

Well-preserved would be the phrase that best described her. She was of middling age and height and full-bodied, tending a little to the stout.

'Now,' she said brusquely, 'I want you to enter me from behind!'

To my amazement she lifted her dress and leaned over an occasional table. A well-fleshed pair of buttocks was presented to my astonished gaze. Beneath the cleft I could see a dense, dark bush. She opened her legs a little and pulled apart her splendid cheeks.

'Come along,' she said. 'In there!'

I paused, still reluctant to obey her command.

'What are you waiting for,' she said.

Gingerly, I approached her, very aware of my grubby condition.

'It don't matter about the dirt,' she said, 'I want your hand on me and your cock in me. Get it out at once!'

Bemused, I did as I was told. Mr. Pego hesitantly revealed himself. She looked at it.

'That won't do,' she said. 'Stick it between my legs. I see that I shall have to bring you to life.'

Cautiously I introduced my member to the indicated position. At once her thighs closed and she began to rub and coax it with a considerable degree of expertise. At her warm, skilled touch, my cock swelled and rose.

'That's better,' she said. She reached round behind her to grasp him in her hand.

'Much better,' she said. 'Big and hard, that's how I like it. Now, embrace me.'

'Beg Pardon, Ma'am,' I said. 'But I'm not very clean.'

'That's why I sent for you,' she said, 'I want to feel your hands on me.'

I grasped her tentatively, my hands on her hips.

'The waist, and then further up,' she ordered.

I did as I was told. Mr. Pego at least declared his interest in these goings-on. Still with a degree of caution, I seized hold of her clearly voluptuous breasts, squeezing them and pressing them through her dress.

'Better,' she said. 'You're learning fast.' She began to breathe heavily and her own hands crushed mine against her. Her bared buttocks began to thrust and move against me. Mr. Pego was by now rampant and I began to slip backwards and forwards between her firmly fleshed thighs. She began to twist this way and that.

'Push my clothes up,' she ordered, releasing her grip on my hands.

By now I was beginning to be quite carried away with my efforts. Sliding my hands up her thighs, I raised her dress well above her hips. My hands moved higher and encountered the large breasts which were quite unencumbered with any underthings. Again she gasped and then fairly threw herself forwards across the table so that her bum stuck proudly up in the air.

'Now!' she said and my engorged prick slipped directly into the opening of her cunney. She backed and forced herself along the full extent of my shaft. At once we fell to a completely abandoned bout of fucking. As I forced my way time and again into her, a little trickle of sweat made its way down her back and into the cleft. I rubbed my face eagerly in it. As she felt the stubble of my unshaven chin scratch her naked flesh she began to give out low groans of pleasure. By now the immaculate state of her clothing was becoming not just creased but torn. My begrimed fingers had left distinct prints on her damp-sheened body. Her hair was in a state of wild disorder. For my part I had been able to step neatly out of my trousers as they threatened to tangle round my ankles.

'More! More!' she cried out.

Ceaselessly I banged in and out of her now wide and wet cunt. My balls felt full to bursting but I attempted to control the eruption that was building to its climax. Drawing on all my experience, I first slowed down and then increased my pace. All of a sudden I felt the first unstoppable wave of my cum beginning to force its way down my prick. Before I had time to do anything, she had noticed what was about to happen.

'You're coming,' she said. 'Not inside me!' She bundled up the hem of her dress and used it like a handkerchief, wrapping it round the head of my prick just as the first milky spurt shot out. With one hand reaching down between her legs, she held me tightly as jet after jet was emptied into this hastily devised rag receptacle. I had been full to overflowing and soon my cum was smeared over her hand and seeping down her thighs. With an experienced hand she ran her fingers along my prick, urging every last drop of my spending out of me.

'Well done,' she said, as my discharge dwindled to nothing. Letting go of me, she twisted round and lowered her head to my still out-thrust member. With one mighty suck she emptied the last few drops and then, as my prick began to relax, she took it into her mouth in its entirety so that it lay along her tongue. She let it rest there, holding me firmly at the hips. Then, as Mr. Pego shrank back to a more manageable state and size, she let me go.

'But I have not yet come,' she said. 'You must complete the job with your tongue.' She lay down on the carpet, quite oblivious to the mess that we were making, parted her legs once more and revealed the full splendour of her bush to me.

I kneeled before her and she reached out and pulled my head between her knees. Needing no further instruction, I at once began to feel my way with my mouth through the luxuriant undergrowth that hid her cave of delights. Already gaping and wet, her cunney lips welcomed me in. My tongue at once encountered the fullness of her clit which moments before I had been teasing into vigorous life with the thrusting of my prick. I began to lick it with quick, darting strokes. She rolled her hips, widening herself out under my attentions. The warmth of her pussey hair filled my nostrils and I breathed in the scent of her own coming.

By now she was crying out loud in a quite uncontrollable manner. A first shudder and then a second announced that she was reaching the final point of her ecstasy. Her bosom bounced up and down as she bucked and heaved like some thoroughbred trying to dismount its rider. I held on to her manfully however, my tongue clinging to her clit like a barebacked rider. Gasp after gasp forced its way from her and I was quite enveloped in the tides of her coming.

Soon her volcanic movements began to subside but not before I swear I felt the floorboards move and groan beneath us. Still panting with her exertions, she ceased all movement for a moment or two. Then she pushed my head away and drew her legs up with surprising flexibility for one of her age and build. With her own hands clamped firmly against her pubic parts, she rocked back and forth, a great smile of satisfaction spreading over her face.

'Very good,' she said. 'Very good indeed. Much better than your uncle.' So at least I had surpassed Holmes in one thing, I thought with satisfaction. I should call this the Case of the Satisfied Pussey. One that I had brought to a triumphant conclusion without any help from my mentor. Then I remembered that I had failed in my duties as observer at Lady M-'s. What would Holmes say? At once, I decided that since he had said nothing to me about the services he had been called on to render during his spell on watch, I was under no obligation to volunteer any description of the similarly unexpected summons that had drawn me away from my street-sweeping duties.

'Ring for the maid,' Her Ladyship ordered in her customary imperious tone.

'But… but… ' I stammered. 'Don't you need to, er…?'

'Get on with it, young man,' she said. 'Abigail has been with me for years.'

I did as I was ordered. No doubt, I thought to myself, the maid must be used to such scenes, extraordinary though they might seem to most people. And indeed the maid Abigail, when she answered, behaved as though it were the most natural thing in the world to find her mistress, half-naked, dampened and considerably dirtied, stretched out full length on the carpet while a ragged but untrousered member of the lower orders stood by the bell.

'If you would like to gather your things together,' she said to me. I collected myself up, adjusted my dress and followed her out of the room. Her Ladyship barely looked up.

'Take him out by the kitchen entrance,' she said. 'But he may have a wash first at the sink if he wants.'

Once outside, the maid said 'Her Ladyship would like you to take this as a reward for your efforts.'

With that, she slipped a half-sovereign into my hand. This was the first time that I had ever been offered money for satisfying a lady and for a moment I resisted. But then I remembered my assumed status and accepted my payment. 'The Labourer is Worthy of His Hire' was a proverb I recalled from my school scripture lessons.

'Her Ladyship is well satisfied,' said Abigail as I completed a perfunctory wash. 'She will in all probability send for you again. In addition, while there can be no question of a written reference, there is every likelihood that she will recommend you to Mrs. Lucas across the street. She also has need of occasional assistance in these matters, seeing as how her husband is so often away on business.'

'I had no idea that this sort of thing went on,' I said.

'It's not for the likes of us to concern ourselves with the habits of the gentry,' said Abigail rather sniffily. 'Though I must say that I prefer my gentlemen callers to be clean at least.'

Thus dismissed, I returned to my duties at the street corner, hoping that there had been no need for my other clandestine services while I had been away. Cautiously, I looked across to Lady M-'s. All appeared to be as it had been. I fingered the half-sovereign in my pocket, hoping that there would be no further demands upon my time and energies.

About an hour later, Holmes returned.

'I take it that nothing of note has transpired,' he said.

'Er, no,' I said, a little worried that he might have returned while I had been called away and was testing my veracity.

'A completely uneventful spell?' he asked. Was it just my guilty conscience or did he suspect something.

'No unexpected callers at Lady M-'s,' I said, aware that I was being evasive. I spotted a raised eyebrow.

'I, er — ' Then I pulled myself together, remembering that he also had been plucked from his observation station to render the self-same service as myself. 'Honesty is surprisingly often the best policy,' had been one of the maxims most favoured by Dr White at Nottsgrove.

'I had to leave my post for a short while in order to answer a call of nature,' I said, edging towards a full confession.

'Your nature or another's?' asked Holmes with a thin smile. He had guessed. With a sense of relief, I admitted to my adventure. He listened.

'It's a damn nuisance,' he said when I had finished, 'I sometimes forget the demands of the flesh. I also received a similar call earlier.'

'You don't think that the woman is in league with our blackmailer and that it was done deliberately to draw us away from our vigil?' I suggested.

He pondered the point. 'Possible but not probable,' he said. 'Although of course, a neighbour would have every opportunity to observe the comings and goings at Lady M-'s. Discretion is clearly not among her more marked qualities. There is nothing for it. Tomorrow we will both have to be on duty at the same time, in case further calls are made upon your services.'

'Or indeed, yours,' I said.

'I suspect that I shall be spared the wretched woman's demands. I had the foresight to simulate considerable incompetence.'

For a moment I entertained the unworthy thought that his incompetence had not been deliberate but then remembered that he was an adept in the more demanding Oriental arts.

'At least I shall remain in a position to carry out our watching brief,' he went on.

'Two crossing sweepers?' I said. 'Will that not look a little odd.'

'You shall be the sweeper,' he said, 'I shall remain completely hidden.' 'How?' I asked.

'I am an expert in these matters,' he said. 'Never fear. I will be invisible but present.'

'In the meantime,' I said, 'how long are we to remain here?'

'All night, if needs be,' Holmes said. 'The criminal classes have a natural affinity with the hours of darkness.'

I began to have some doubts about the pleasures of the detective's life. Dusk was falling. A cold wind was beginning to blow and my ragged clothing was likely to prove quite inadequate in keeping out the nocturnal chill. I was also becoming extremely hungry.

'I wonder-' I began.

'Ssssh,' Holmes said, holding up a warning finger. 'What?' I said.

'That tapping noise,' said Holmes.

I strained my ears. Sure enough, from some distance but nearing rapidly there came a sound of shuffling footsteps accompanied by a strange, insistent rapping.

'A blind man,' I said as I discerned a figure approaching in the gloom.

'Making surprisingly swift progress for one with his affliction,' said Holmes. 'Something's afoot.' Suddenly he turned in the other direction.

'A second blind man,' he said. 'An odd coincidence.'

We ducked down some area steps as he motioned me to silence. The two figures converged, each feeling along the kerbstone with his cane. Closer and closer they came. With a bump and a mutual cry of surprise, they collided. Each stood still as though waiting for the other to step out of the way. Then each began to mutter angrily as they measured up to each other. One waved his cane and made contact with the other.

'This is awful,' I whispered. Each obviously assumed that the other could see and expected him to stand aside. In a trice they were swearing and flailing at each other. I stepped forward.

Holmes pulled me back. 'Don't,' he hissed, 'I scent a diversionary tactic.' By now a grotesque fight had broken out. A carriage pulled up and the driver leaped down to pull the two apart. A passer-by joined in.

'There!' said Holmes.

'What?' I said.

'There! Getting out of the far side of the carriage.' Sure enough a shadowy figure had slipped out and quickly vanished towards the servants entrance to Lady M-'s establishment. 'That's our man,' said Holmes. 'Keep down!'

'How can you tell?' I asked.

'A well-dressed man in a top hat and with a silver-topped cane, descending to the servants entrance,' said Holmes. 'Even the most superior servant would not be so dressed. Note also the military bearing.'

There came the softest of raps at the door. At once it opened and our quarry was let in.

'Someone was waiting for him,' said Holmes. 'There is an accomplice inside the household.'

'What do we do?' I asked.

'We wait,' said Holmes.

We waited. The fighting blind men allowed themselves to be parted. They calmed down and tapped on down the road. The coach driver remounted, clicked his tongue at the horse and proceeded on his way, turning the corner and passing out of our sight. The passer-by, who had been the accidental recipient of a couple of stinging blows, patted himself down, wiped his face and walked on, limping a little. Silence fell. Holmes began to creep up the steps. Then as I followed, he crouched down, and I felt a pull at my elbow from behind. I turned, startled.

'Tuppence for a fuck,' said a small voice. 'Or thruppence for the both of you.' Angrily I pulled away.

'Not now!' I exclaimed, trying to keep my voice down.

'Tuppence for a very good fuck,' she insisted, and two thin but strong arms were flung round me. 'First of the evening,' she importuned. 'A good clean fuck.'

As I tried to wrestle her from me, my foot slipped and I fell down the steps and landed in a heap at the bottom, all entangled with her. As her body was squashed under mine, she wriggled and hung on to me.

At this point Mr. Pego betrayed me and rose to attention. She felt my mutinous member pressing against her and quickly dropped her hands down, seizing hold of him through the unfortunately threadbare cloth of my disguise.

'My, he's a big, strong fellow,' she said. 'Surely you wouldn't deny a girl a chance of feeling that inside her.'

Despairingly I looked up but Holmes had vanished, leaving me to grapple with my seductress.

'Never mind about the other gentleman,' she said. 'You can catch him up in a minute or two.'

'He's not a gentleman,' I hissed. 'We're just a couple of poor crossing sweepers. You've made a mistake.'

'Crossing sweepers don't talk like that,' she said. 'You're gentry, no matter how you're dressed. On your way to a fancy dress ball, are you?'

'We're keeping watch-' I started, nearly revealing all in my confusion.

'Never mind what you're doing,' she said. 'None of my business. In here!' She pushed open a door and dragged me into complete darkness. Something gave way under my feet and I fell over once more. There was a rumbling noise and what felt like a cascade of stones fell on me.

'We're in a coal hole!' I cried out, trying to regain my balance but falling over again as the mound of coal shifted under me. 'This is ridiculous!'

'Never mind,' she said, quite invisible in the Stygian blackness but still keeping firm hold of my prick. 'The dirt'll just add to your disguise. Now keep still while I get my gloves off. Don't want to get your prick all gritty. I'll have him out in an instant.'

Strong little hands unbuttoned me. As my eyes began to get used to the darkness, I could just about see my prick, ghostly white where the light from the half-closed door caught it.

'There,' she whispered, 'I'll guide you.'

All at once I felt the warmth of her bush rubbing against the tip of my already straining member. I stopped struggling. What else could I do? The quicker we got this over, the quicker I could get out and follow Holmes.

Now she was straddling me as I lay back. Expertly she lowered herself on to my prick, burying it entirely in her already wet cunney. Cautiously she began to ride up and down on me. I responded and felt the coal shift beneath me.

'Careful,' she said. 'We don't want to start an avalanche.'

I lay still once more. The idea of being buried alive while fucking did not appeal. She did not make any abrupt movements but just used her inside muscles, clenching and unclenching herself about my swollen cock. 'Cleopatra's grip,' I recalled Becky calling it. One of those feminine skills handed down from Antiquity in a centuries-old tradition. Never was it more needed now. One over-abrupt movement and catastrophe threatened.

Perilous though our situation was, I realised that I was beginning to thoroughly enjoy it. I was in the hands, or rather the cunney, of an expert.

As I surrendered to professional care, I forgot everything except the delicious rhythmic squeezing that was rapidly driving me towards my coming. I felt the first stirring as my jism began to churn inside my swollen balls. I must have made some slight sound.

'That's it,' she said, 'let it come. Everything you've got. Right into me.' I did as I was bid. Steadying myself on the ever-shifting coal slope with my outstretched arms, I began to pump spurt after spurt of my cum up and into her. After the events of the afternoon, I was surprised at how much I could summon up. Rising and falling a little now on me, she milked me as our juices were spread over my prick and began to trickle down into my hair.

'I call it my Wishing Well,' she said softly in my ear. 'When the last drop comes out, you must close your eyes and think of what you would most like to happen to you. I can see the whites of your eyes,' she went on. 'You're supposed to close 'em when you wish.'

I did as she commanded. All I could wish was that I could get out of there as soon as possible and follow Holmes. My first Case and already I had a sense of failure. 'AH done then?' she said.

I nodded and then coughed as some coal dust tickled my throat.

'Up we come then,' she said, carefully lifting herself off my discharged but still erect firing piece. 'A good two penn'orth, wasn't it?'

I nodded again, feeling in my pocket for some coins. As I began to lever myself up, I slipped.

'Blast this coal!' I said.

'Anthracite,' she said.

'What?' I said, still struggling to pick myself up.

'Good Welsh anthracite,' she said. 'Best there is for burning. Born and brought up in the Valleys, I was. Learned my trade at the pit head.'

'Young woman, this is not the time or place to discuss the merits of different types of coal,' I said, looking up at her. 'Help me up!'

She reached down, seized hold of my hands and pulled me to my feet.

'I must find my friend,' I said.

'I'll come with you,' she said. 'Maybe he'll want a quick fuck as well.'

'I think you'll find that he has other things on his mind,' I said, rummaging round in my pocket for the money to pay her off. My fingers closed round something. 'Here, take this!'

As she took the only coin I could find in my hurry, I realised from the milled edge that it was in fact the half-sovereign with which I had earlier been paid off after my own afternoon endeavours. However it was too late to take it back. Already she had hidden it about her person. For a moment I considered asking for my change but realised that as a Tuppenny Upright, she was hardly likely to have enough cash on her to be able to comply with such a request. I made a mental resolve to be more careful with money in the future.

'Now we must set out after your friend,' she said, yanking me out into the evening gloom. I saw a small smile flit across her face as she realised the extent of her luck and my mistake.

At least, I consoled myself, it would appear that I had a higher market value.

My immediate problem was to track Holmes down. Carefully I climbed up the area steps, my Welsh Undresser, as I had Christened her in my mind, rather wittily I considered, followed close behind. The road above was empty. I started across.

All at once there came a terrible moaning noise. 'My God!' I muttered out loud. 'Holmes!' He must have been attacked by the well-dressed fellow we had seen admitted to the servants entrance. I began to run towards the sound.

The door was still ajar and speedily but quietly I slipped inside, knowing not what scene of outrage I might find. The room was empty but through an open door and from down the passage, the unearthly moaning recommenced. I looked around wildly. Obviously Holmes must be in terrible trouble. If I was to be of any use to him, a weapon was needed. My eye lit upon a large rolling pin and I picked it up, feeling its reassuring weight in my hands.

'I don't think that will be needed, dearie,' said a small Welsh voice. I looked round. My Tuppenny Upright had followed me in.

'I must save my friend,' I said, rather impressed by my own heroism. 'Stay out of the way. This is man's work.'

'Woman's,' she said, contradicting me.

'What?' I said.

'It's all right,' she said, 'I know that sound-' 'Shhh!' I said, pulling away from her as she tugged at my sleeve.

'But — ' she said, refusing to let go so that I found myself dragging her in my wake as I raised the rolling pin and began to creep towards the bloodcurdling sound. I finally just about managed to shake her off but she insisted on following me, ignore her though I might.

The first two rooms we came to both had partly opened doors. There was no lighting but I realised that one was a larder and the other a store of some kind. The moaning sound came from ahead. I pressed cautiously on. All of a sudden my foot caught what appeared in the half-light to be a scrubbing brush. It skated across the stone flags and clanged against a bucket. As the sound echoed down the passage, the moaning came to an abrupt end. An ominous silence fell and then there came the patter of hasty footsteps. Casting caution to the winds, I rushed on. We came to a right-angled turn. I paused and edged forward. Another room opened off the corridor. Flattening myself against the wall, I inched my way onwards, trying to keep myself concealed until I could get a clear view through the doorway. From behind came a stifled, choking sound. I spun on my heel. My companion had her hand to her mouth.

'Shhh!' I said again. Again I paused, gathered up my reserves of courage and then fairly leaped in, ready to do battle.

'About time, too,' came a quiet voice. 'Holmes!' I cried out.

Holmes it was. He was standing by a small window, upright and wound about with what seemed to be a large sheet, his arms bound to his sides like an Egyptian mummy. He was pulling rather crossly at the ends of his imprisoning bandage which had been fed between the rollers of a large mangle.

'What-' I exclaimed.

'The handle,' he said.

I strode across the room, seized the handle and quickly gave it a couple of brisk turns.

'The other way!' my employer cried out in a strangled voice. 'You're pulling me through the wringer!'

'Here, let me,' said my partner from the coal hole, 'I can see you've never been in service.'

She took the handle from me, reversed my efforts and began to release the Great Detective from his bondage.

'Now,' she said, as the ends were freed. 'You take one end and I'll take the other.' She laughed. 'Like a maypole. We've got to unwind him. Go round that way.' Obeying her, I set off clockwise. Ducking under my arms, she circled round in the opposite direction. Holmes, trying to help us, began to swivel round.

'It would be quicker, Sir,' she said, if you stayed still. We'll have you out of that in a trice.'

He did as he was told and with a few quick turns we had him disentangled. He stood there, swaying slightly on his feet.

'He's a bit dizzy,' she said. 'We'll turn him round the other way. That way he'll get his balance back.'

'You realise, of course, that these childish games are in fact connected with ancient fertility rites,' said Holmes, ever the teacher.

'Just what my old headmaster used to point out to us,' I responded, pleased to be able to demonstrate my knowledge of such things, 'I had not realised, Sir, that you had a particular interest in folklore.'

'A longtime but minor interest,' he said. 'Though one that has been useful to me before now in my detective work.'

I remembered the moaning and the sounds of hasty departure that had preceded our entrance, although all was now quiet.

'What happened?' I asked.

'As you should be able to deduce,' said Holmes, 'I have been assaulted in a most disgraceful fashion. They went that way,' he continued, pointing down the passage that stretched further ahead.

'How many were there?' I asked.

Three,' he replied. 'One was the fellow we had been following. Or rather, I followed. You seem to have been somewhat delayed on the way. I notice also,' he said, 'that you appear also to have acquired a companion.'

'Er, this is er — ' realising as I began my introduction that of course I had no idea whatsoever of the name of my Welsh Encounter.

'Megan, Sir,' she said. 'Do you want a fuck? Only fourpence.'

'My dear young lady,' said Holmes, 'Grateful though I am for your assistance in releasing me, you must realise that this is neither the time nor the place for such a transaction. Evil is afoot and we must be in hot pursuit.'

'Did you get a good look at the other two?' I asked, somewhat concerned at the prospect of a hand-to-hand engagement with no less than three opponents. For a moment Holmes appeared embarrassed.

'They were women.' Uncharacteristically he hesitated. 'Both substantially built and both, er, both stark naked.'

'Good God!' I exclaimed.

'Two large naked women. Probably of the servant class, judging by their coarse hands and coarse language.'

'What were they doing?' I asked.

'Behaving in a manner not dissimilar to that suggested by your friend here,' he said. 'They were accompanied in their activities by the well-dressed stranger.'

'Why did they tie you up?' asked Megan. Once more Holmes looked crestfallen.

'I had managed to approach the door, which was then half-closed, unnoticed,' he said. 'Believing from the noise that some foul crime was being perpetrated, I bent to observe what was going on through the crack between door and frame. Unfortunately, at that very moment, one of them looked up from their revels on the floor-'

'So that was the noise,' I said, enlightenment dawning.'

'If I might make so bold,' said Megan, 'that's what we in the trade call a screaming fuck.'

Holmes looked startled but I remembered the tremendous racket that had been set up by Mary the Maid at Mrs. P-'s at the hands, or rather instrument, of Tom the Tool.

'I should have recognised it,' I said ruefully.

'-they looked up,' said Holmes, pressing on testily, 'and let out a great cry of “Peeping Tom!” Before I could either escape or explain myself, I had been roughly laid hold of, bound up in two large damp sheets and fed into the mangle.'

'How terrible!' I said.

All at once there came a spluttering sound. We both turned to see Megan bent over with laughter and pointing to the linen. As a consequence of our assignation in the coal cellar, there were now dozens of large black handprints all over the twisted remains of the sheets.

'They denounced me, using the foulest possible expletives,'

Holmes continued, clearly unamused by the turn of events. 'And then fled.'

'We must catch them,' I said.

'Why?' asked Megan.

'Because they have criminally attacked Mr. Holmes,' I said. 'And the full rigour of the law must be visited upon them.'

'I concur with your sense of outrage,' said Holmes, 'But I have reservations as to your suggested course of action. Not only would they have some semblance of a defence in court but I should have to explain why I had been

apparently spying on their perfectly legal sport. Such publicity would not help me in my endeavours to apprehend the blackmailing swine who is the cause of so much distress to Lady M.'

I could see the logic of his argument. 'But what then do we do?' I asked.

'May I remind you, Scott, that we are actually in the basement of Lady M-'s house. I suggest that we seek her out and find out if there have been any further developments in the affair while I have been unavoidably detained down here.'

'But what if we inadvertently happen upon your assailants?' I asked.

'I do not think we have to fear any further attack,' he said. 'Not only are we now their equal in numbers, but I strongly suspect that the two women will be chiefly concerned to reclaim their clothes and resume their domestic duties. As for the fellow, I would imagine that he has been either hidden away or pushed out into the street again.'

'Unless they hope to complete their fucking,' said Megan.

'That is a rather remote possibility,' said Holmes. 'We do not I think need unduly to concern ourselves with them any longer.'

'So we'd better go and look for Lady M-without further ado,' I said.

'May I remind you that we are both dressed as crossing sweepers,' said Holmes, 'I suggest that if we suddenly appeared before her looking like this, she might well become considerably upset. Also your friend here is not suitably dressed for a lady's drawing room.'

'I knew you wasn't a real crossing sweeper,' said Megan. 'A fancy dress ball is what I suggested if you recall.'

'Very observant of you, my dear,' said Holmes. 'You have the makings of a detective. It may be that I shall enlist your services. I would of course make it worth your while.' He fished out a small purse. 'Sixpence would seem an adequate sum for your services.'

'Make it ninepence and I will throw in a free fuck,' said Megan.

'That won't be necessary,' said Holmes. 'Although Mr. Scott here might well be interested in your offer at some time later on.'

'He's already had his fuck,' she said.

'Which doubtless accounts for the delay in his arrival.' He turned to me. 'Scott, I am not unappreciative of your efforts to stand in for Dr Motson, but you might be more useful to me if you could remember to use your head rather than your balls from time to time.'

'Bit of a prick on wheels, is he?' said Megan brightly.

'Ah, yes, an army expression, is it not,' said Holmes. 'You have experience of the military?'

'The Barrackroom Bint of Blaenau Festiniog, I was known as at home,' she said. 'And then I served the Navy at Portsmouth before coming to London.'

'So you have considerable experience of the foibles and predilections of humanity,' said Holmes. 'A veritable student of society.'

'I can tell the difference between a gentleman and a crossing sweeper,' she said quickly, 'However he may be turned out.'

'We must have a long talk together at some time in the future,' said Holmes. 'There are questions that I should like to put to you. Knowledge,' he said to me, 'must be sought in all quarters, even the most unlikely. But in the meantime, there is a problem to be solved.' He began to pace up and down. Then he patted his shabby pockets. 'Damn!' he said, 'I have mislaid my pipe in the fracas. I know I had it with me. It must be on the floor. You two look for it while I think.'

We searched and he pondered.

'We have to attract Lady M-'s attention without alarming her,' he said. 'We must also remember that the stranger we followed into the house may have come for reasons other than to engage the domestic staff in sexual intercourse. He may well be an emissary from the blackmailer. If so he could well still be on the premises, and one or more of the servants may be in league with him. We must be careful.'

'There is a maid's uniform hanging in one of the closets we passed,' said Megan, 'I could slip it on and go upstairs in search of her Ladyship. My appearance would not startle her and I could pass on a message to her.'

'A capital suggestion,' said Holmes, 'I will wait here, and Scott, you must resume your station in the street.'

'If you two gentlemen could help me get undressed and dressed again, it will speed things up,' said Megan.

'That would seem a task best suited to Mr. Scott's talents,' said Holmes. 'Ah! My pipe!' He picked it up from a corner of the room where it had lain unnoticed. 'This will aid the thought processes.'

Megan sent me off to fetch the uniform from the closet we had passed earlier while she began to strip off her rather grubby woollen dress.

'A wash is called for,' said Holmes. 'You are rather dirty.'

'Comes of fucking in a coal hole,' she said, looking at herself. 'A quick all-over sluice will do. There is a sink over there. If the young gentleman will wash the grime off his own hands, he can help me.'

I noticed that she was shivering a little.

'No chance of some warm water, I suppose,' she said.

'No time,' said Holmes. 'Cold it will have to be.'

I washed myself, drying my hands and face on another sheet.

'Now,' she said. 'Give me a good splashing.' She was standing, almost naked in the middle of the floor. 'Your hat,' I reminded her.

'Silly me,' she said and raised her arms to take it off. Then she lifted her hair up and posed in front of me. In spite of the urgency of the moment, I could not help but notice how enticing she looked even though she was streaked with coal dust. Mr. Pego reacted and stood hungrily up. She of course spotted what was happening at once.

'Another fuck?' she said, licking her lips in a most provoking manner.

'Not now!' said Holmes sternly.

Picking up a large dishcloth, I began to wipe her down. At the touch of the cold, damp rag, she gave out a little squeal. As her bare titties shook, my virile member thrust out once more. Holmes noticed.

'I can see that I will have to attend to the young lady's ablutions,' he said. 'Get her domestic's uniform ready.'

As Megan, still shivering but well aware of the effect she was having on me, twisted first one way and then the other while Holmes plied the cloth, I meanwhile tried to regain my critical faculties.

'I think your young gentleman could do with a splash of cold water, too,' said Megan.

'That is up to him,' said Holmes, gruffly. 'Now, that will do. Where's the dress?'

I stepped forward and slipped it down over her head, although not without a twinge of disappointment as its voluminous folds hid her thin body from sight. Holmes stepped back to inspect the effect.

'That won't do at all,' he said. 'Far too large. Fetch a smaller uniform.'

'There's only one in there,' I said.

'Damn!' he said. 'We simply can't send her up into the house like this. She looks more like an entrant in some village sack race. Anyone will notice in an instant.'

'What shall we do?' I asked.

'I shall think,' said Holmes, puffing once more on his pipe.

'If you please, Sir?' said Megan, 'I have an idea.'

'Don't interrupt,' I said. 'Mr. Holmes is thinking.'

'Don't be rude!' she said. She turned to Holmes. 'The young gentleman is the nearest in size. He can put the dress on.'

'Certainly not!' I said, 'I shall do no such thing.' I waited, confident that Holmes would come up with a more suitable scheme.

'That is not a bad idea,' said Holmes to my horror. 'He only has to escape the close attention of the rest of the household and make his way up to the drawing room. As long as Lady M-is alone, he should be able to creep quietly in and make himself known to her without causing her any great alarm.'

'But, but,' I stuttered, feeling that events were slipping beyond my control.

'Be quick,' said Holmes. 'Help him into the dress,' he said to Megan. 'But you'll have to get rid of his own clothing first.'

Megan wriggled out of the over-large garment and, naked once more, began to undress me. I surrendered to my fate. Once again Mr. Pego rose up so that she had some difficulty in pulling my trousers down over his aroused projection. Quickly she took my balls in one hand and gave a sharp squeeze. I squealed with the pain and as Mr. Pego drooped for a moment, she had me trouserless before her. I drew in a deep breath and as I tried to regain my composure, she dropped the dress down over my head, pulling the skirts right down and smoothing it into place.

'That's it,' she said with a mocking look. 'A much better fit. Now, turn round and I'll do up the back.'

I obeyed, still preoccupied with the ache in my balls. She busied herself with the fastenings and when all was to her satisfaction, stepped back to inspect her handiwork.

'He needs a cap,' she said. 'There must be one in the cupboard to go with the dress.'

A cap was found and placed on my head.

'What do you think, Sir?' she said to Holmes.

'He'll pass muster,' he said. 'Anyway we really have no other option. At least his shoes are hidden. Now,' he said to me, 'remember to take short steps and maintain a posture of deference. Take a turn about the room while I have a look at you.'

'Let me get into my own dress again,' Megan said, 'And we'll coach him.'

I tried to walk like a woman.

'Not very good,' said Holmes. 'You'll never make a detective if you cannot master the arts of disguise. Why I remember I once had to play the part of a nursemaid for several days while solving the Case of the Kidnapped Heiress. I flatter myself that I became remarkably adept at the changing and bathing of infants, although it is not an experience I would choose to repeat. At least you only have to pass as a maid for a short while.'

I struggled manfully to perfect my impersonation.

'That will have to do,' said Holmes impatiently. 'Just try to keep out of sight until you find Lady M — .'

'Off you go,' said Megan, patting me on the bottom. 'And try not to clump as you walk.'

And so I was sent out on my errand.

As I crept towards the servants stairs, I took stock of the situation. Somewhere in the house were the two maids. Since they had fled without their uniforms, which were still in the laundry along with Holmes and Megan, they would be immediately pre-occupied with finding some alternative clothing. Also possibly in the house was the well-dressed stranger, although if he were simply in the habit of calling at the house in order to fuck the maids he had doubtless slipped out again into the evening. If on the other hand he was indeed the blackmailer's emissary, he would have sought out Lady M- in order to deliver his message. On balance, this was the more likely situation since Holmes had clearly worked out that some member of the household was in league with the blackmailer and was supplying details of who was entertained in the absence abroad of Lord M-. It was therefore safer to assume that the well-dressed man was part of the plot. I had to keep out of his sight. I had no knowledge of how many other staff might be kept apart from the two who had been surprised by Holmes. One could assume at least a cook, possibly a housekeeper, a lady's maid and a manservant. I had to take care.

I further recalled that the arrangement had been that a servant would make a signal from an upstairs window on behalf of Lady M-when the message arrived. Clearly Lady M-had one trusted confidante among her staff. Unless she had mistakenly relied on one of the two denuded maids in the basement, this was a certain argument for at least one further domestic somewhere in the house.

At the top of the stairs I looked round cautiously. All was clear. I moved into the hallway. There was no sound. At the front of the house were doors to the left and the right. One would be the drawing room in which I might hope to find Lady M-. I looked into the room on the right. It was a dining room and empty of people although a cold meal of substantial proportions was laid out on the side. I thought again.

The signs suggested that this was cook's night off. This would account for the cold cuts that had been left. At least that was one less unwelcome surprise in waiting. However the quantity of food made it plain that guests were expected. I would have to hurry. I looked into the other room. The drawing room. Then I breathed a sigh of relief. Over by the window was Lady M-. She was alone, looking thoughtfully out into the street.

I entered and coughed. Lady M- turned round.

'What is it-' she began. Then she looked more closely at me and started back.

'Who are you?' she said imperiously. 'Where is Esther?'

'Don't be alarmed, Lady M-' I said, it is I, Andrew Scott, Mr. Holmes' assistant.'

'Good God!' she said. 'You gave me a terrible start. Why on earth are you dressed like that?'

I began to explain as well as I could. However I was barely halfway through the story when to my horror a door at the far end of the room opened and there stood the well-dressed stranger. 'Ah, Dear Lady,' he said, addressing himself to Lady M-. 'I think I have found the papers that your husband asked me to collect, so my business is completed.'

He looked in my direction. Luckily he seemed not to notice anything untoward about my appearance. Then he looked back towards Lady M — , plainly waiting for her to react to his statement.

'Ah, er, Hetty,' she said to me, at the same time screwing up her face and generally making it clear to me that I would have to act out my part for the moment. 'Hetty, would you serve drinks?' Then she walked over to me and said in a low voice, 'I've no idea what is going on. The butler's pantry is at the foot of the stairs. You will have to carry out Esther's duties.'

Downstairs, no-one was to be seen and there was no time to go looking for Holmes and Megan and find out what they were doing. I returned with glasses and a decanter of what looked like sherry. Lady M-was in deep conversation with the stranger.

'Put them down over there, Hetty,' she said.

I did as I was bid and withdrew. I must own to the fact that I was becoming considerably hot and bothered. As I stood in the hall wondering what to do next, to my alarm there was a ring at the front door.

'Answer it will you, Hetty,' Lady M-called out. 'John has the evening off and Esther is busy upstairs.' At least she had managed to pass on much-needed information about the disposition of the other members of the household. Nonetheless I had been placed in the awkward position of having to cope with whoever was on the steps outside. With lowered eyes and ready to bob demurely, I opened the front door.

Two women stood there, dressed in the height of fashion.

'The Honourable Gwendolen Fairfax and Miss Cecily Cardew,' said a familiar voice. 'Lady M-is expecting us.'

I leaped backwards in surprise. Gwendolen and Cecily! Two of my dearest and most intimate friends.

'What is it, girl?' said Cecily sharply. 'You look as though you've seen a ghost.'

'It's Andrew,' I hissed, knowing that I could not escape recognition and hoping to get the surprise over with there and then without any exclamations that would draw attention to us. 'It's me-' Unfortunately I was so overcome by the surprise of our encounter that I choked and began to cough.

'What!' said Gwendolen. Then she looked at me carefully. Her eyes widened with amazement.

'It can't be! Stop coughing and stand up straight so we can get a good look at you.'

My eyes streaming, I spluttered, it is, but for Heaven's Sake, keep your voices down.'

'Well, it could be him,' murmured Cecily sweetly to her companion. 'But it's hard to tell in this light and him dressed up like that.'

In desperation, knowing that I had only seconds to make the situation clear to them, I recalled the one thing that was most likely to convince them that I was in fact Andrew. Abruptly I pulled up my dress. Underneath, of course, I had nothing on. Like a faithful hound responding to its master, my cock leaped into sight. Cecily and Gwendolen both let out simultaneous cries of recognition.

'It is him,' said Cecily, 'I'd recognise that Thing anywhere.'

'True, Cecily,' said Gwendolen. She looked carefully at me. 'I did not know that you numbered dressing up in women's clothes among your interests.' She walked up to me, took my engorged prick in her hand and looked back at Cecily. 'Who could overlook something like that,' she said. She began to rub her hand up and down the charged length of my member. 'And to think that we believed we were invited for a quiet meal with our friend Priscilla. Mind you,' she went on to Cecily, 'she has always been fond of contriving unusual entertainment for her friends. This promises to be an excellent evening as long as Andrew is not the only man present. Maybe they are all to be attired in this way.'

'No! It's not like that at all,' I whispered urgently. Quickly I gave the two of them a brief description of the events that had transpired. All the while Gwendolen was playing most teasingly with my prick so that I had great difficulty in keeping my mind on my tale.

'Hetty! Show my guests in,' came Lady M-'s voice.

Pulling myself together, I disentangled myself from Gwendolen's grip, tugged my dress down, and adjusted my maid's cap. 'Not a word in front of the stranger,' I managed to hiss, 'I suspect that he is part of another plot altogether.'

I ushered them into the drawing room and closed the door behind them. Outside I took a deep breath and tried once more to think. The situation was that Lady M-knew that I was Andrew Scott, assistant to Porlock Holmes, the Great Detective. Cecily and Gwendolen also knew that I was Andrew Scott but did not know that Lady M-was privy to this information. And vice versa. The well-dressed stranger, as far as he had noticed me, thought that I was Hetty the maid. Neither Lady M — , Gwendolen nor Cecily had more than a sketchy idea of the events that had brought me to this state of frantic impersonation. I needed help in order to decide what to do next. It would have to be Holmes.

I picked my way carefully down the servants' stairs once more, hoping that I would stumble upon my friends rather than the two scullery maids. The laundry room would be the place to start. I minced towards it.

'Sixpence for a fuck,' said a quiet voice behind me.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Megan! Then I let out a yelp of surprise as an intruding finger was shoved forcefully between the cheeks of my bum, probing through the thin material of my dress. As I turned, she turned with me, nipping me sharply in the nape of my neck with her teeth.

'Not now!' I said, reaching behind me to fend her off. Suddenly a door opened.

'Who are you?' said a new voice. Someone who was clearly a bone fide ladies' maid was looking at the two of us.

'You must be Lady M-'s personal maid,' came a further voice. Holmes had emerged from the laundry. 'Don't worry, my dear,' he said. 'I can explain everything. We are all friends of your mistress.'

The newcomer looked as though she was about to bolt in confusion and fright.

'We must keep our voices down,' said Holmes. 'Are you indeed Esther?'

'Yes-' she said reluctantly, still poised like a nervous gazelle, ready for flight.

'I know from Lady M-that you can be trusted. You have been commissioned to pass on a message from the window to a crossing sweeper in the event of some unwelcome visitor to the house. I am that crossing sweeper and this,' he pointed at me, 'is my assistant.'

'Dr Motson, I presume,' said the maid Esther, relief spreading over her face.

'Scott, actually,' I said. 'Dr Motson is on holiday.'

Holmes took her, still trembling, by the arm and led her into the laundry. Megan and I followed. Rapidly he explained the situation as far as he knew it. When he had finished, I in turn brought him up-to-date with the events upstairs. It remained only to ascertain the whereabouts of the two naked domestics who had been so heartily engaged in sexual congress with the stranger before our arrival upon the scene.

'They are locked in a store cupboard,' volunteered Megan. 'They were hiding inside and I turned the key on them. The stranger must have told them to keep out of the way. They still do not have any clothes.'

Esther, by now more or less calmed, offered her services in furthering our endeavours. 'Her Ladyship's guests are expecting supper,' she said. 'But I do not know if the strange gentleman is also to eat with them. I have to wait on them.'

'And Mr. Scott, also,' said Holmes.

'Noooo!' I howled. 'I can't do that!'

'Yes you can and will,' said Holmes firmly. 'As long as you do not arouse the suspicion of the stranger, you will be quite safe. Everyone else knows of your imposture, if not the whole story that accounts for it, so none of them will give you away in front of him. But I need you to be there to observe what happens and to get a message to Lady M-'

'What is that?' I asked.

'She must be reassured that I am on call below stairs. I also need to know whether she understands that we need confirmation that the stranger is indeed part of the conspiracy with her husband.'

At that moment a bell jangled.

'That will be Her Ladyship,' said Esther, if Mr. Scott, or Hetty, will accompany me, we must serve supper.'

Before I could protest any further, I was shoved up the stairs behind her by Holmes and Megan.

My first venture into domestic service was growing more fraught by the minute. It was not an easy meal. The stranger had indeed stayed for dinner. By dint of great concentration, I managed to perform my duties with a degree of verisimilitude, coached and watched over as I was by Esther the maid. However I had reckoned without the unfortunate sense of humour of Cecilys I was standing dutifully at Lady M-'s shoulder while she helped herself to a plateful of soup when I felt a hand slide under the hem of my dress, run rapidly up my thighs and begin to insinuate itself between them. Instinctively I clenched my buttocks but too late. A delicate hand cupped my balls and began to squeeze them rhythmically.

I lurched forward, slopping the soup into Lady M-'s lap. She shot backwards in her chair, just managing to avoid the deluge but bumping into me as she did so. The soup ladle dropped to the floor and I hastily banged the tureen on to the table before ducking down on hands and knees to retrieve it. My testicles were released but the same hand flipped my skirt over my bum. The strange man was seated on the other side of the table so that at least I was concealed from his gaze. As I groped around for the ladle, I was assaulted in a most outrageous fashion from left and right as Lady M-joined in the sport. I felt a stinging pinch to the cheek.

'Do be careful, Hetty,' said Lady M-. 'You have nearly spoilt my dress. Help her up, Esther.'

Flustered and humiliated, I scrambled up.

'Fetch a cloth and mop up this mess,' Lady M-continued, before turning back to the strange man and resuming her polite dinner table chit chat. I retrieved the tureen, found another ladle and, struggling to regain some composure, went round to serve the stranger.

To my horror, as I bent over him, he also patted me on the bum. Of course I had to submit to his coarse advances without flinching. Such is ever the lot of the servant, I remembered as he managed to press himself against me with impudent familiarity.

By now I realised that I was likely to be grabbed and fondled every time I approached the table. Only Gwendolen had so far kept her hands off me, but I knew her too well to regard her as trustworthy. Esther, bless her, did her best to keep me out of harm's way. Somehow the meal was served and eaten. As it wore on, I became considerably adept at avoiding any surreptitious strokings and intrusions into my private parts.

Then, just as we were serving the dessert, the stranger asked to be excused for a moment. Esther directed him down the hallway to the cloakroom and at last I could speak my mind.

That was most unfair,' I said, coming up to the table. 'You very nearly gave the game away.'

'I am sorry,' said Cecily contritely. Then she whipped up my skirt from the front and her sister pushed me rudely forward. My prick slapped down on the table, landing on the edge of a plate. Before I had the time to whisk it away under cover again, Gwendolen trapped it with her hand.

'What an interesting object to see served up to one,' she said to Lady M-. 'What a pity that we cannot have one each.'

'We shall have to sample it in turns,' said her hostess. I tried to pull myself free.

'Lady M-' I said desperately, 'I have an urgent communication from Mr. Holmes.'

'Of course,' she said, 'I had quite forgotten. There is another prick downstairs. As soon as we have bidden Mr. Pride goodnight, we can bring him up from below.'

'Lady M-' I said. 'Mr. Holmes suspects that your visitor is in league with the blackmailer. Has he attempted to pass on any message from the scoundrel?'

'Yes,' said Lady M-, 'but there is no time to explain further. He will be coming back in a minute. Let him go,' she continued to Gwendolen and Cecily. 'We can resume our entertainment in a little while.' I was released. Mr. Pego, who in spite of my confusion had shown every sign of wanting to come out and take part in the engagement, was hidden once more from sight. Esther took over the task of bringing coffee and I made my escape once more below stairs.

A muffled thudding was coming from the cupboard where the two maids were imprisoned. Then I heard the sound of a struggle. I dashed into the laundry fearing the worst. Holmes was helpless on his back in a large wickerwork basket, trying to get up again. However Megan had him pinned down, her legs on each side of his waist and was fairly bouncing up and down on him.

'Get this woman off me!' he cried out as he saw me. 'I have an injured back.'

I stooped forward to pull her off but she instantly reached under my dress and once more Mr. Pego was hauled out into full view.

'What a sorry looking fellow,' she said, 'I must lick it into shape.'

I realised that she was thoroughly enthroned on Holmes and thus securely seated, she proceeded to bend forward and take me in her mouth. With the expertise of her profession, she all but swallowed my member while her tongue cradled its underside. Clasping me tightly round the backs of my thighs, she began to suck and lap me into such a state of excitement that I became quite incapable of any further resistance.

Soon, as she lifted herself up and down on the still protesting Holmes, I began to respond, thrusting in and out of her eager mouth. Yet, ever mindful of my errand, I attempted at the same time to inform Holmes of what Lady M-had said concerning her visitor. 'I knew he was a wrong 'un,' he said, beginning in spite of himself to enter into the spirit of the occasion. His eyes closed and he frowned with concentration even as he started to pant with his efforts.

'One of us must follow him when he leaves,' he gasped.

'I think,' I panted, 'that it had better be you. I have to attend to the two young ladies upstairs.'

'Who are they?' he asked breathlessly.

'It's a long story but I know them both,' I said. Then I felt the first stirrings from my swollen balls as the beginnings of my cum began to spurt along my cock. Megan sucked hungrily at me and I began to discharge myself into her warm, wet mouth. Thirstily she swallowed my copious bounty while still levering herself up and down on Holmes like one possessed.

'If I ever get out of here and am still able to walk,' he said, 'I shall attempt the task. But first, I'd better get on with my immediate duties, or your Welsh friend will never let me go.'

I realised that in spite of his verbal reluctance he also had been provoked to his coming. Fairly snorting with his efforts, he was matching Megan stroke for stroke. For a man of such cerebral habits he was proving surprisingly athletic, although 'I recalled that he was used to long moorland excursions according to Mrs. P-'s account.

By now I was becoming quite drained with the activities of the day. A last jet of cum trickled rather than gushed down Megan's throat and she began to lick me clean. My prick slipped from her mouth and a final milky dribble fell on Holmes. Luckily he failed to notice its descent as he also was completing his spending. Satisfied at last, Megan ceased her writhing and let him slip free as well.

'That should be sevenpence each,' she said. 'But since we had not come to any agreement beforehand, I shall have to rely on your generosity.'

'Now, Madam, will you please release me,' said Holmes, 'or our quarry will escape.'

Megan lifted herself up. 'All sweaty, I am,' she said, 'I need another wash.'

'Well, you stay down here and clean yourself up,' I said, 'I have to get back to the dining room at once.'

Once more pulling my dress down, I looked about me.

'Your cap is all awry,' she said. 'Here, let me straighten it.'

'Give me a hand with Mr. Holmes, first,' I said. 'He seems to be Stuck in the basket.' Together we took him by the arms and hauled him to his feet. As we let him go, he clutched his back and winced.

'An old campaign injury,' he said. 'South Africa.' For a moment he stood, bent double and then took a deep breath and drew himself up. 'My pipe. It's gone again.' Megan fussed round him like a mother hen, tucking his shirt into his trousers, before retrieving his pipe and other belongings.

'I shall go outside and wait in the street,' he said. 'When you have finished your duties upstairs, you must make your way round to my rooms. If I have not returned, Mrs. Sayers will look after you. Now, I must be gone.' So saying he let himself out into the darkness.

'What are you going to do?' I asked Megan, 'I don't think you should linger. Remember that there are two maids, in all probability still naked, locked in the cupboard. It would never do if they managed to get out and found you here. One at least is implicated in the plot.'

'Don't worry yourself about me,' she said, 'I promise to avoid detection.' There was no point in interrogating her further on her intentions. I would have to trust to her common sense. Then a thought struck me.

'Where are my clothes?' I said, 'I shall have to change back out of this dress before I leave.'

'Oh, you don't want to bother with those raggedy old things,' she said. 'You look very fetching as you are.'

'But where are they?' I insisted.

'In the corner over there. You get upstairs and I'll fish them out and leave them where you can find them later.' Once again I was propelled back into the fray.

At the top of the stairs I stumbled. The fatigue of the day was beginning to affect me. As I entered the dining room, Lady M-looked up.

'Back again so soon, Hetty?' she said.

'I would prefer to be called by my correct name,' I said.

'Not dressed like that,' she said, tweaking provocatively at the hem of my dress. 'Cecily and Gwendolen have been telling me all about your artistic interests. But where is Mr. Holmes? I think it is time he was brought up from below stairs so we can have a council of war and then possibly some entertainment.'

'He has resumed his watch in the street,' I said. 'Your gentleman caller has to be followed when he leaves.'

'That should be in a minute or two,' she said. 'Esther is seeing him out.'

'He brought some message from the blackmailer, I presume,' I said.

'A demand that I hand over a letter signing away much of my fortune. I told him that I would have to see my attorney. The letters of assignment have to be prepared within two days. He will call again to collect them.'

'I am certain that Mr. Holmes will be able to apprehend the principal in this diabolic scheme.'

'Then there is nothing more that we can do for the moment,' she said. 'Cecily has a plan to take our minds off this sorry affair.'

The splendidly full-bosomed Cecily stood up. I realised that the back of her dress was already unbuttoned.

'Since Esther is otherwise engaged for the moment, you must play the part of ladies' maid. There are a couple of fastenings that I cannot easily reach.' She presented her back to me. Already her creamy shoulders and back were partly exposed. Fumbling slightly, I undid the remaining restraints on her freedom. Under instruction, I pushed her dress and chemise off her shoulders. Her splendidly lush titties sprang into view.

'Your hands,' she said. Obediently I reached round her from behind. She took my hands and placed them firmly on her breasts. They were warm and plump in my palms.

'A little attention to my nipples, I think,' she said. My fingers closed over her already protruding nipples. I felt them harden under my touch.

'Squeeze them,' Cecily said. I began to rub and fondle her. All fatigue was forgotten as I felt her respond to me.

'A little harder,' she said. 'Oh! That feels so lovely.' Nestling her bum against Mr. Pego, she started to twist and sway, forcing her titties into the palms of my hands. As I began to stroke her, she was breathing more and more heavily.

'Keep going!' she gasped. 'A bit harder. Don't be afraid of hurting me. I am quite impervious to pain when my breasts are being massaged. Oh! Lady M — ' she said to our hostess, is it not simply the most delightful experience to feel a man's hands on one's bosom?'

I looked over in Lady M-'s direction. She had flung herself down in an upholstered chair and I noticed that one hand had crept under her skirt and she was beginning to frig herself into a state of excitement.

'Gwendolen, please,' she said. 'Hetty has got her hands full. I wonder if you could be of assistance.'

Gwendolen, ever the courteous guest, rose and knelt down in front of her. Carefully she drew Lady M-'s skirt up. She responded by leaning back and parting her thighs. I saw the forest of her quim spread out before me. As though unveiling some rare treasure to an expectant audience, Gwendolen slipped one finger under her and felt for a moment. Lady M-gave a shudder of pleasure as the finger disappeared into her. Then it was slowly drawn upwards. A second finger joined it in its unseen cave, then her lips were carefully parted and Lady M-'s cunney was opened out to the public gaze. Instinctively I clutched Cecily harder and began to rub my hands up and down her glorious breasts. My prick jutted out, pressing into her. Cecily lifted up both her skirts and mine and as the embroidered material rubbed against the very tip of my distended member, I was brought to a state of almost uncomfortable readiness. I felt her cheeks part and she reached down, taking hold of the end of my prick and guiding it easily into her. Once I was properly seated, she stopped all movement, and paused expectantly.

As though recognising her cue, Gwendolen began to rub her fingers up and down in Lady M-'s cunney. She slipped still further down in her chair and spread herself wide. She let out a sudden cry of pleasure and I realised 'that Gwendolen's assiduous fingers had encountered Lady M-'s clit. As the slow but regular movements of her rubbing and caressing continued, I found myself automatically rubbing Cecily's nipples in a similar circular fashion. She was now bumping her cheeks against me, forcing me still deeper into her. Then she started to slip backwards and forwards on me, bending down so that I could thrust my entire member into her wet and welcoming tunnel.

Still watching the lovely display facing me, I kept time with Gwendolen's efforts. Lady M-began to turn her head from side to side, her mouth open and her eyes closed. She was moaning and quite oblivious to the rest of the world. I was banging and thrusting against Cecily like a man possessed. My knees were beginning to tremble with my exertions but so enervated was I from my day's repeated sexual exploits that although Mr. Pego was in an almost painful state of excitement, there was no sign of that relieving gush that would mark the culmination of my efforts.

'More! More!' Cecily cried out, continuing to buck and writhe on my impaling instrument. Gamely, I drove on, my balls smacking against her widespread thighs. In and out I thrust. Then, over-vigorous in my motion, my prick slipped out of her. Hungrily, she seized hold of it and almost rammed it up inside her again. Then as Lady M-began to cry out loud, Cecily also increased her pace to a frenzy. I sensed a final hot flush of ecstasy inside her and she and Lady M- came together, their near-delirious pleasure cries mingling.

Although my prick was wet and slippery with Cecily's copious juices, there was a hollow dryness within and a dull ache in my balls. Desperately I drove like a piston into her. She was in the full flow of her coming and her own juices were trickling down her thighs. She gave one last gasp and staggered. In my determination I had forced my whole weight on her. Weak from my efforts, I buckled at the knees and in an instant we had fallen forward onto the carpet. I lay on top of her, sapped of all energy as if I had also come. Yet my undischarged member remained obstinately and adamantly erect. Cecily slipped off me once more and we both fell over, she on her back with her legs raised, her hands rubbing and pressing against her bush, savouring the last moments of her spending.

I for my part was also flat on my back, my dress rucked up somewhere around my armpits and my prick bolt upright like a flagstaff. Dimly I realised that Esther the maid had entered the room. Obviously she was used to such scenes in the house for when Lady M-said 'The fanny fan!' to her, she immediately picked up some sort of Spanish lace fan from where it lay, obviously in readiness, on a shelf and began to waft it vigorously in front of her mistress's bared quim.

Gwendolen, her own needs as yet unattended to, was nonetheless looking quite happy, sitting back on her heels beside Lady M-and sucking the fingers that had just been so busily and skilfully engaged in their stimulating work.

'Our guest has gone?' asked Lady M-.

'Yes, Ma'am,' Esther answered, still fanning away.

'Good,' said Lady M-, continuing to expose herself to Esther's cooling mission. 'We must hope that Mr. Holmes is successful in tracking him to his lair.' She glanced over to me.

'Gracious,' she said. 'You look as though you could do with some help.'

'May I rest here for a little while, Lady M-' I said feebly, 'I fear I am quite worn out with events.'

'Of course,' she said under standingly. 'But there is Gwendolen to think of. I would like to think that you can satisfy her in due course.'

'I will try,' I said. 'Please do not take offence. I should like nothing better than to help her. I will do what I can as soon as possible.'

'Don't worry,' said Gwendolen, 'I have an idea. Don't move.'

As I gazed up at the ceiling, I became aware of a rustle of clothing. Suddenly everything went black. Gwendolen had lowered her quim onto my face!

For a moment I thought I would faint from lack of air as darkness enveloped me. Then she lifted herself up a fraction and I took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of her eager pussey while her dense hair filled my mouth and nostrils.

'Don't smother him,' came a voice, seemingly from far away. 'Esther, can you put a cushion behind his head. He needs to be lifted up a bit.' Lady M-was issuing orders like an experienced mistress of ceremonies. 'Gwendolen, if you lean forward you should be able to take him in your mouth.'

I felt warm lips nuzzling at the end of my prick. As her bum was raised, I could see once more. My head was carefully propped up. 'Be gentle with him,' ordered Lady M-. 'He must have had a hard day. Andrew, if you could just use your tongue on Gwendolen, I am certain she will be more than grateful.'

Gallantly I began to lick and tease at Gwendolen's cunney. Such was our position that I could not enter into her properly but I managed to rub against her delicately parted lips.

'That's lovely,' she said sympathetically, it's all I want for the moment. Just a lick and a promise.' Then she bent down and dabbed lightly at the very tip of my prick. Now at last I felt a quick contraction in my sorely tried balls. From deep inside me a small rivulet of cum pulsed up my prick. Just as it reached the top, Gwendolen withdrew. A rather feeble fountain shot up into the air.

'Poor thing,' said Cecily, 'A spent force. I suspect that that is all he has to offer for the time being. We must let him recover.'

I carried on tonguing Gwendolen as best I could. Delicious though the sensation was, I was near exhaustion, as well as thoroughly mortified that I had not been able to satisfy her. As waves of fatigue coursed through me, I was dimly aware that she had lifted herself from me.

'Fucked dry,' said a voice. 'Gwendolen, come over here and let us complete what he has started.' All went blank and I lapsed into near unconsciousness.

Coming as though from a great distance, I heard the murmur of voices. I was half aware of a door opening and closing. Time passed. More voices and the sound of low, earnest conversation seeped into my fatigue-dulled brain. I turned over on my side as though I were in bed.

'How unfortunate,' I heard someone say. 'He has been taxed beyond human endurance.'

'Unfortunate, indeed!' came a scornful voice. 'Look what he's doing! The dirty beast is playing with himself!'

Coming to with a start I realised that my hands had sought out the warmth and comfort of my prick and I was clasping it between them. Other hands turned me over on to my back once more.

'Don't be so harsh, Cecily,' said a more concerned voice. 'Look at his Thing. I've never seen it like that before. I much prefer it in its more usual state. I only hope it gets better soon.'

'If I might offer my advice Ma'am,' said a soft Welsh voice, 'We should let him lie for a few minutes more. If nothing happens then, I have a trick or two up my sleeve. It is a problem that I have often encountered in my trade.' Megan had been brought into the room.

Bewildered, I tried to sit up. 'What's happening?' I said.

'Nothing,' said Lady M-. 'That's the problem.'

My stomach rumbled.

'Too much fucking on an empty stomach,' said Gwendolen. 'We must give him something to restore him to life.'

A bowl of by now cold soup was thrust under my chin. Then I was lifted into a sitting position while Gwendolen plied me with several spoonfulls. I swallowed obediently but as my strength returned, so did a feeling of mortification. I was being nursed like an invalid or worse still, a baby. I pushed the spoon away.

'I am quite capable of feeding myself,' I said crossly.

'Well, I suppose that's some improvement,' said Cecily. 'But I am being altogether too severe on you,' she continued, a note of contrition creeping into her voice. 'Maybe there's something more that can be done.'

At that, she lowered her still naked breasts so that they brushed against my dormant member. She began to swing them back and forth. Lady M-and Gwendolen crowded in on me, first one and then the other lowering themselves onto the carpet so that they could carry out a close inspection of Cecily's efforts.

'Nothing happening so far,' said Lady M-.

'I know it will work,' said Cecily. 'My great aunt was a nurse in the Crimea under Florence Nightingale. She said that she often did this to restore some unfortunate injured soldier to life. Indeed most of the nurses did. Of course they had to wait until the Lady with the Lamp had returned to her quarters.' As she talked, she continued her healing ministrations.

'Look! Something's happening now,' said Gwendolen, 'I saw a distinct sign of life.' Sure enough, Cecily's gentle persistence was bearing fruit. Mr. Pego stirred and straightened. Struggling against the Law of Gravity, he began to raise himself up, inch by inch.

'Penis redivivus,' said Lady M-displaying an unexpected acquaintance with the language of the Classics.

'Like Excalibur emerging from the Lake,' said Gwendolen, not to be outdone in this display of learning.

'Not yet,' said Megan, practically. 'There's still a bend in it.'

'Some extra help is needed,' said Lady M-. Pressing her face close to my valiantly straining member, she began to lick carefully both at its tip and at Cecily's swollen nipples. Gwendolen joined in. Under their combined care, Mr. Pego's revival continued.

'Now we must get him completely upright,' said Megan. 'He still needs some more time before he is completely ready to enter into any further activity.' I was hauled to my feet and released. As my dress dropped into position, I stood there, my legs apart, trying to steady myself.

'Fetch a chair,' said Lady M- and as Esther hurried forward with an upright, I sank gratefully down, my knees almost giving way once more.

'At least we can bring him up to date with what has been occurring,' said Lady M — .

I listened, glad that for the moment there were no further calls upon my energies. It transpired that the stranger had left the house and that Esther had managed to dash upstairs and give the pre-arranged signal from the window. She had caught sight of Holmes waiting up the street under a gas lamp. The stranger had walked off down the road and had then hailed a passing cab. Esther was sure that Holmes had set off after him. I remembered that Holmes had had his own cab waiting round the corner for just such an eventuality. I also recalled that I was under orders to return to his Marylebone Road rooms and report what had gone on in the house. I explained what had to be done to Lady M-and the others.

'First I must find my clothes,' I said. 'Megan, you were going to have them ready for me.'

'They're very dirty,' she said. 'And there is still the problem of the two incarcerated maids.'

'Esther, you must go down and release them at once. Bring them up here. I must have a severe word with them. One at least is betraying my confidences. We must find out which is the guilty party and she must leave immediately.'

'If it please you, Ma'am,' said Esther, 'I don't think that it is Olive. She's fresh from the country and none too bright, but I don't think there's an ounce of malice in her. She's just very fond of fucking.'

'Very well,' said Lady M-. 'I shall have to question them one by one.'

'But if you will forgive me,' I said, 'I must return to Mr. Holmes' rooms as soon as possible.'

'You'll have to go like that,' said Lady M-. 'We can send your sweeper's rags round in the morning.'

'Is that wise, Ma'am,' said Megan. 'Dressed like that, he will have to make the entire journey on foot. If he gets a cab he will surely betray himself by his voice, if nothing else.'

'You're right,' said Lady M-. She paused, deep in thought, 'I know, someone must go with him. You can take my carriage. Send for James.'

'Lady M-,' said Cecily, 'may I suggest that Gwendolen and myself go with him? He is not yet fully restored to health.'

'On second thoughts, we will all accompany him,' said Lady M-. 'The problem of the maids can be dealt with tomorrow. Esther, let them out but make sure neither of them leaves the house.'

So all of us, Megan included in the party at Lady M-'s insistence, crowded into her carriage and set off through the night to beard Holmes in his den.

Of the journey, I can remember little. I was still considerably fatigued and such was the warmth engendered by our densely packed confinement that I dozed throughout, lulled by the motion of our passage. I was aware of low conversation and the occasional squeal of pleasure but all was subdued and relaxed.

Some while later the carriage drew to a halt and I came to.

'We have arrived at Mr. Holmes' place,' said Lady M-and we all piled out and swarmed up the front steps.

'Good Gracious!' came Mrs. Sayers' voice. 'Five ladies come to call and at such a late hour. However I am afraid that Mr. Holmes is not at home, nor is his assistant, Mr. Scott. They went out much earlier and neither has been seen since.', She peered at us more closely. 'Lady M-!' she said, if it is in connection with the case that he is working on, I can only suggest that you come in and wait for him. I am sure that one or other of them will return soon.'

I realised that dressed as I was she had not recognised me, but before I could make my identity known to her, Lady M-swept in and we were all ushered upstairs to Holmes' study. Mrs. Sayers poked the fire into life and then bustled out with the promise of a pot of coffee to come. We settled down to wait.

'What shall we do to pass the time?' said Cecily. Several glances were turned in my direction. 'Andrew, we need entertainment. There must be some parlour game that you can suggest.'

'I would like first of all to change back into some of my own clothes, if I might be excused for a short while.'

'Certainly not,' said Lady M-. 'We've grown used to you in that rather fetching outfit. It suits you.'

I opened my mouth to protest at being so bullied and ordered about but then remembered that Lady M-had engaged Holmes to act on her behalf and, while I had no idea of the financial arrangements involved, it seemed to me in all probability that I was under some quasi-contractual obligation to do as she said. More to the point, I knew that she was under some considerable strain from the whole affair and that it would be kind to humour her. Holmes in any case would not be best pleased if I managed to upset his client over what I suspected he would feel was a trivial matter.

I accepted that for the time being I would have to remain in women's clothing, and that my more pressing worry was that I should not be able to take any part demanded of me in any game suggested by those present. I would have to offer an alternative proposition.

'A game of whist?' I suggested. 'There are cards in the bureau.'

'Too boring,' said Lady M-.

'Bezique?' I tried.

'You'll have to do better than that,' she said.

'I'd like to fuck,' said Gwendolen. I must have looked alarmed because Megan, bless her, came to my rescue.

'I know a game that I learned from a gentleman friend in Portsmouth. We used to play it in his lodgings with his companions.' The other looked rather unimpressed, it really is great fun,' she went on brightly.

'It is not some intellectual pursuit, I hope,' said Gwendolen, it is not intellectual stimulation that I need.

Tucking would be nice,' said Cecily.

'It is quite simple,' said Megan supportively, 'And it is probably the nearest thing to fucking that can be arranged until Mr. Scott has gathered his strength.'

'Tell us about it,' said Lady M-.

'And while you do,' said Gwendolen, 'I have just had an idea. Look!' She had been busily rooting around in her bag as she spoke. Now she triumphantly drew out a familiar object.

'A dildo!' came a chorus of delighted recognition.

'But no ordinary dildo,' she said. She walked over to me, holding the object in her hand. Once more my dress was pulled up and Mr. Pego put on display.

'See!' she said. 'Do you not see the similarity?'

'Not much,' said Lady M-. 'One is up and the other is down. If we are to make comparisons, they will both have to be in the same state.'

'Both up would be the more pleasing prospect,' said Cecily, in any case, we can hardly bend the delightful object that dear Gwendolen has procured for us. One of us must help Andrew in an attempt at re-erection.'

'I might manage it, if I may,' said Megan. 'My gentleman friend in the Navy often had such a problem when he had just returned from a long sea voyage.'

'By all means, go ahead,' said Lady M-. 'We will watch.'

'I need some butter,' said Megan. 'Perhaps we might ring for the housekeeper?'

'Mrs. Sayers is of a rather puritan disposition,' I said, it would be better if any object that could cause offence were hidden from her.'

In truth, I had no idea whatsoever if there was any truth in what I said. Indeed I surmised that in her capacity as Holmes' housekeeper, she had long grown used to an array of odd happenings and strange habits. However I was quite determined not to be confronted by her in my present revealing state. In any case, she was of advancing years and since she had not so far recognised me, got up as I was, I did not want to cause her a fright.

'I accept your point,' said Lady M-. 'Let us present a united and decorous front.' So both dildo and member were put away and I moved over into a corner where the light did not catch me. Megan came and stood beside me while the others arranged themselves elegantly on a chaise longue and Holmes' leather bound armchair. Mrs. Sayers was sent for and butter ordered.

'A tray of sandwiches, Your Ladyship?' asked Mrs. Sayers, having no inkling of course as to the purpose for which the butter was needed.

'That would be nice,' said Cecily. 'But make sure there is plenty of butter on them.'

'Ham sandwiches?' asked Mrs. Sayers. 'We have a large smoked ham, just delivered from the country at the behest of one of Mr. Holmes' acquaintances.'

'That sounds splendid,' said Lady M-. 'With mustard.'

'But not in the sandwiches,' said Megan hastily, from her semi-obscurity. She had obviously foreseen the possibility of a painful problem as far as I was concerned, if, as I suspected, I had accurately divined the use to which the butter might be put.

The arrangements were made and we awaited her return. The others turned to talk of intimate encounters while I took the opportunity to sit down once more. Megan sat beside me, keeping a watchful eye and indeed hand on my recovery. Such was her closeness that I relaxed and began to hope that I should be able to regain my full faculties in the not too distant future. She gave my thigh a little squeeze.

'Don't look so worried,' she whispered. 'We'll soon have you up and about again.' Cecily and Gwendolen were entertaining Lady M- with stories of their schooldays in Somerset when Mrs. Sayers returned with a large salver of sandwiches, mustard in a pot and coffee. Putting it all down on an occasional table that I had earlier noticed because of its marquetry inlay depicting an Eastern scene of astonishing complexity and frankness, she retired. She volunteered the information that she was more than used to having to wait up all hours for Holmes, so we could safely leave any callers to her. The fire was stoked up once more and we were left to our own devices.

Hands reached out for the sandwiches, then Gwendolen paused. 'Megan has first call on them,' she said, 'or at least on the butter in them.

With a well-mannered curtsy, Megan opened up one sandwich and inspected it. 'That'll do nicely,' she said. 'Just the thing to produce an inflexible friend. Lift your skirt up, Hetty!'

'Andrew, please!' I said.

'You're Hetty until I've dealt with you. Then maybe you'll be an Andrew again.' I stood up and hiked up my skirt. Megan extracted the ham from the sandwich, took a good bite out of it and then scraped a generous helping of butter into the palm of her hand. After she had rubbed it into a suitably soft state, she bent down and began anointing my prick. As she rubbed it into my rather wretched member with her gentle hands, I began to perk up a little. The others looked oh with deep interest.

'Can't we speed things up a bit,' said Lady M-rather unhelpfully. 'A good dollop of mustard should produce some reaction.'

At such an idea, I flinched and wilted once more.

'Please, Ma'am,' said Megan. 'Now see what you've done.' Not knowing how Lady M-would take such a reprimand from one of the lower orders, I pursed my lips. Then I realised with a sense of relief that she had been teasing me all along. She burst out laughing.

'I'm sorry, Andrew,' she said. 'How we are mocking you. It is only in fun. Let me reassure you that whatever happens or does not happen tonight, I have every confidence that we can have a most delightful fuck in the near future.'

'And me,' said Gwendolen.

'Me, too,' said Cecily.

At this chorus of assent I relaxed, knowing I was truly among friends. In response to both my easier mood and Megan's renewed buttering, Mr. Pego began to recover. There was a found of applause. Emboldened, I strode over to the centre of the room, flourishing my awakened manhood. Megan carefully stroked its underside and then withdrew her hand.

'I don't think you need propping up any further,' she said, standing back to admire her handiwork. There were nods of approval all round. Then Gwendolen delved into her bag and drew out the dildo again.

'Now,' she said, coming over and holding it parallel to my prick, 'What do you notice?'

'It's Andrew! To the life!' exclaimed Lady M-with delight. 'How on earth did you get hold of such a Thing?'

'It's a long story,' said Gwendolen, 'but it was given to me by a mutual friend when we were on a bicycling holiday in Northamptonshire. She is an artist and potter of considerable skill and persuaded him to model for it.'

'I should dearly like to have such a memento of him for my own entertainment,' said Lady M-. 'Are there more copies to be had?'

'I am certain that can be arranged,' said Gwendolen. 'But in the meantime, I realise that I have a further example of her craft.'

Another dildo was produced. At once I recognised it but the others looked most puzzled. Lady M-reached out to inspect it more closely. 'But, it's got writing on it,' she cried out. 'I can't quite make out what it says. This is a very strange Thing indeed.'

'It is a signature,' I said, holding it up to the light. 'Count Johann Gewirtz.' I showed the other side and read on. 'The Gobbling Galician.'

'I know him! I know him!' Lady M-exclaimed. She took the dildo in her hand. A frown of concentration appeared on her forehead and she closed her eyes as though trying to recall some memory, it's just how I remember it.' She hefted it in her hand. 'Just like the original.'

'I'm sure I've never met a gentleman with his name inscribed on his prick, although I've seen some strange tattoos in Portsmouth,' said Megan.

'I don't mean the writing!' Lady M-said. 'But everything else is to the life.' She fondled it and pressed it to her. 'Would you mind, Gwendolen, if I were to use it? See,' she ran her finger down one side, 'where the lettering is raised up. That could stimulate fond recollections indeed.'

'I would be delighted if it would help you bring back the past,' said Gwendolen.

'I have every hope that it will also be a foretaste of things to come,' said Lady M-, 'for I have every expectation that he will be in these parts again shortly. He travels frequently.'

'There is one small problem,' said Cecily, if you are to enjoy Count Gewirtz and Gwendolen can make use of Andrew's facsimile, what am I to do? I am not sure that the original is yet in full working order.' Here she glanced at me.

Megan, who had been completely ignored during this division of the spoils, spoke up.

'There is my game,' she said. 'A game of chance with the winner taking first pick. Or prick?'

'A pottery lottery,' I said, rather pleased with my witticism.

'What an awful joke,' said Cecily. 'You will certainly have to pay a forfeit for that.'

'What is the game?' said Gwendolen, 'I can hardly wait to win. I am always lucky at cards.'

'Yes, we must get on with it,' said Lady M — . 'We have no idea when Mr. Holmes may walk in and it would be nice to have a round or two completed before that happens.'

'It is simplicity itself,' said Megan. 'After I have shuffled the pack, we all take a card. The one with the lowest card has to take off some item of clothing. Then we repeat the procedure.'

'This could go on for hours,' said Lady M — .

'Not if we are quick about it,' said Cecily. 'Deal the cards!'

'Two!' said Cecily, peering under her card without turning it over, 'I lose.' With that she unbuttoned her dress and let it fall to the ground. Under her chemise, her splendid titties were delightfully outlined. Mr. Pego responded happily.

'Cheat,' said Gwendolen. 'Turn it over. That's the rule. We must all see.'

'Oh Gwendolen, do you not trust me?' said Cecily. 'Surely old schoolfriends should have faith in one another. Do you not remember the School Motto?'

'No,' said Gwendolen. 'Anyway, it was in Latin and I abhorred the language.' She turned Cecily's card over. 'Ten!' she said, 'I knew you were cheating. You must put your dress back on again this instant.'

'I don't think I can,' said Cecily. 'There are so many complicated buttons and things. You know I have never been very good at dressing myself.'

'Well, I have a five,' said Lady M-. 'I am certain that is a winning score.' She removed a glove.

I looked at her with admiration. I should explain that she had been a winner in previous rounds but had chosen to undress in an unorthodox order. Apart from her remaining glove she was completely naked. As the firelight played on her naked body, I began to have every confidence of being able to enter the game in the near future.

Again Megan dealt the cards. Again Cecily peeked at her card without letting the rest of us see. 'The Joker!' she said, a mischievous smile flitting across her face. 'That means I can take off ten items of clothing.'

'I don't remember that rule,' I said.

'Ask Megan,' said Cecily. 'You cannot have been paying proper attention when the rules were set out. I distinctly recall Megan saying so.'

Megan, sensing no doubt a certain mood of impatience among the assembled company, agreed to Cecily's statement with great promptness, 'I think that you were too tired to listen carefully at the beginning.'

'Very well,' I said. 'Ten items of clothing it shall be.'

Cecily, barely waiting for my concurrence, had slipped out of her chemise as well as her remaining underclothes.

'Seven choices left,' she said. 'But I have nothing left to remove. I believe that I have the right to allot my spare turns to anyone I may choose.' She looked round the room to see if there was any further disagreement.

'Dear Cecily,' said Gwendolen, 'I do hope that I can be the recipient of your generosity. I have been so unlucky in this game. I've hardly lost a stitch and I am beginning to find the heat from the fire quite enervating. I am sure I shall fall into a swoon unless I am able to get rid of some of these clothes.'

'But what about Megan,' I said. 'She also is unfortunately fully dressed. I think the two of you should share Cecily's gift.'

'Don't worry about me,' said Megan. 'Remember that if we all end up unclothed at the same time, the whole point of the game is lost.'

'You're right,' said Lady M-. 'Cecily and I are already out of the game, with nothing left to lose.'

With that, she picked up the two dildoes that had been left to warm in front of the grate.

'Cecily, if you would like to take Andrew, I have an urgent need to refresh my memory of dear Johnny.'

She flung herself down on the chaise longue and I watched with some envy as the Gewirtz dildo was thrust between her legs. Without any further ado, she began to slide it repeatedly in and out of her obviously eager quim. A satisfied look spread across her face.

'It's all coming back to me,' she said. 'Johnny Gewirtz to the life! It was at the Duchess of Hallamshire's Ball last winter. My husband was talking to some thoroughly boring people. I managed to evade his notice for a few minutes and Johnny Gewirtz and I escaped into a side room. I was simply dying for a fuck and he responded with all the gallantry for which foreign gentlemen are renowned. Although the fact that he was in the full dress uniform of some regiment or other delayed things for a while. The Gallician Cuirassiers! That was it. A very fanciful creation. A lot of gold and a positive chestful of medals, as well as a sword and spurs on his boots. There was no time to get that lot off so I pulled his trousers down and his military accoutrement fairly leaped out before me.'

As she reminisced, she was plying the object of her recollections rhythmically to and fro. Meanwhile Cecily, who had accepted her lot without complaint, was licking my likeness while making herself ready with her other hand. Then she knelt down on the hearth rug, facing the fire so that her splendid bum was staring us in the face. I realised from her movements that she was rubbing the dildo against her succulent breasts. Her back being turned to us as it was, I could only guess what happened next. She gave an excited cry of pleasure and twitched her bottom. I realised that my likeness had been inserted into her delicious cunney.

So delightful was the scene that I at once knew that I should be able to take part in the activities without further delay.

'Would anyone like to sample the original?' I asked, taking hold of my prick and offering it to the room.

'Mine!' said Gwendolen, struggling frantically to get out of her clothes.

'Me!' said Cecily, looking round.

'Don't be selfish,' Gwendolen replied. 'You've got your plaything already.'

'Well, you're not ready,' said Cecily. 'Andrew, come over here!'

Rather ungallantly, I must admit, I abandoned poor Gwendolen to her disrobing and lined myself up behind Cecily. As soon as I grasped her by the hips, she lifted herself up and I entered into her from behind. She sighed and settled. Then she pulled forward again and removed herself from my impaling instrument.

'Both,' she said, 'I want to try both the copy and the original. They will have to take turns.' As Mr. Pego stayed lodged between her thighs, she inserted my counterfeit into her and thrust it backwards and forwards several times. Then she pulled it out.

'Now the other,' she said. I slipped into her once more and drove on. Again she pulled clear and again I was replaced by my replica.

'All change again,' she cried out.

I realised that it was all a matter of timing. Three or four strokes were completed and then there was an exchange of instruments. Unusual though the situation was, it was nonetheless an exciting new sport. 'Always seek to broaden your experience,' I recalled young Fanny saying to me back in what now seemed my far distant school days. She had been parting the cheeks of her bum as she spoke, opening out her back passage into which she was urging me to enter. 'Tools rush in where angels fear to tread.' That had been another of her sayings. I had embraced her philosophy with gratitude.

Meanwhile Cecily had been speeding up her alternating members. As she became more rapid in her comings and goings, some confusions as to timing were beginning to creep in. More than once I found myself driving into her just as my other half was being withdrawn. She herself was now so widened that there was no question of her lips closing as one member slipped out. What with the heat from the fire and the heat of her exertions, she had become quite slippery with perspiration and her cunney juices were soaking into her bush and running down her thighs. I took my place once more.

'Stay in, Andrew!' she said, letting my replica fall from her hand, 'I want to be finished off by the real Thing.'

I took full responsibility and thrust on. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the approach of Gwendolen. Still partly dressed, she swooped on the discarded member and carried it off in triumph. Suddenly Cecily began to come.

While I tried to hold myself steady, she shuddered and started to moan, forcing herself onto me while her hands opened and closed, clawing at the rug, her whole body trembling with ecstasy. Like a stout anchor in a gale, I kept us safe and sound as the full storm of her coming burst upon us. Spasm after spasm coursed through her as she choked and gasped. Then she paused and gave out one last cry of delight before subsiding, still clamped about me, to the floor.

As I struggled to remain in her, I took the chance to survey the scene. Lady M-seemed quite transported by her memories of Johnny Gewirtz and was stretched out full length on her couch, one leg hooked up over the back and the other trailing on the ground, her hands grasping the object of her desire and forcing it slowly but regularly in and out of her tunnel of love.

Gwendolen was sitting on the floor, backed up against a comfortably upholstered chair. She had not bothered to complete her unrobing and her dress was pushed up to her waist. My discarded replica was being put to good use.

Megan, who was also fully dressed, was playing no part in the activities except that one hand had disappeared under her skirt. She was playing with herself as she stood by the window looking out into the street. All of a sudden she turned back into the room.

'Someone is coming,' she said.

'Almost everyone is coming,' I said.

'No! I mean outside!' she said urgently. 'There's a cab at the door and someone is getting out of it. It's Mr. Holmes!'

Interesting though this news was, there was no-one other than myself sufficiently compos mentis to pay the least attention to it.

Withdrawing from Cecily's embrace, I joined Megan at the window, my prick still standing out like a tea-clipper's bowsprit.

'You could hang washing on that,' said Megan, taking hold of it and inspecting it with professionally dispassionate skill. 'But keep it away from the window panes, you're making them mist up with the heat.'

In spite of the rather domestic nature of her metaphor, I took it as a compliment, if you can make use of it,' I said, 'please do so.'

'As a working girl, I usually charge for such things,' she said. 'But I believe I may owe you some change from our first encounter. Anyway, there isn't the time now. Your Master is here.'

Sure enough, at that moment the door was opened and Holmes strode in.

'I see that you have been entertaining our guests,' he said, looking about him. Instinctively I dropped my hands, trying to conceal my straining member. Megan stood beside me, keeping her composure admirably in the circumstances. Neither Cecily, Gwendolen nor Lady M-reacted in any way whatsoever, so intent were they all on their activities.

'I, — I can explain-' I said nervously.

'There is no need for explanations, Scott,' he said, it does not take a detective's training to understand what is going on. Pray, continue, Ladies,' he said to the others. 'But it would be nice if there was somewhere to sit.'

I pulled the only spare easy chair in the room over to him, but instead he remained standing. Then he began his familiar pacing to and fro.

'The plot is developing fast,' he said, 'I have uncovered the blackmailing swine who is behind it all.'

'Possibly we should attempt to engage Lady M — 's attention,' I said.

'She does not look like a woman who is capable of coherent thought at the moment,' he said, casting an eye on the display revealed to all and sundry on the chaise longue. 'My experience in these matters tells me that we will have to wait a little while longer.'

Lady M-was indeed oblivious to everything but her own imminent coming. She was spread-eagled, her head thrown back and clutching at Count Gewirtz' memento as though it was the last hold on life of a drowning sailor. Her magnificent breasts were rising and falling as she busied herself with her fast approaching climax.

As for the others, Cecily appeared to have fallen into a light sleep curled up in front of the fire, her hands between her thighs. Gwendolen, not yet so far gone along the path of pleasure, was backed up against her chair, her knees raised, making repeated insertions of my likeness. There was a frown of concentration on her face as she looked down on her deft probing and teasing. It was clear that she was concentrating all her efforts on her clit, rather than seeking the deepest penetration.

'Ring for Mrs. Sayers, will you,' said Holmes to Megan. 'We are all about to need some restorative draft. Some Canary would be the most appropriate.' Then he looked at the mantelshelf. A small lacquered box that I had not seen before stood there. 'Fresh supplies from the Orient,' he said, picking it up. 'Lloyds confirmed that the ship was safely arrived in the Pool.'

The reference meant nothing to me but Holmes was obviously pleased. He prised open the tight-fitting lid of the box and sniffed delicately at the contents before reaching for his pipe. There followed the now familiar ritual of stuffing and tamping the smoking mixture into its capacious bowl. Finally he lit his pipe and sucked appreciatively at the stem.

'Not a habit of yours?' he asked me.

'I am a cigar man rather than a pipe smoker,' I answered.

'I have never been able to understand the enjoyment that there is to be got from such things.' “There are pleasures in life that you have yet to sample, Scott,' he said. 'But you will come to them in your own good time.'

Megan meanwhile had been twitching her nostrils as the aromatic smoke rose. 'From the Levant,' she said.

'Ah, my dear, so you have a connoisseur's nose for such things,' said Holmes.

'I came across it when I was working in Portsmouth,' she said. 'When the Fleet was in. Particularly when any ship had returned from station in the Mediterranean.'

They exchanged little grins of complicity while I was left with the uneasy feeling that I was missing the point of their exchanges.

'But what of the plot?' I asked.

Holmes took his pipe out of his mouth and looked me up and down. I was suddenly conscious of the fact that I was stark naked and that Mr. Pego was waving about as I talked. Holmes continued to look thoughtfully at me, one eyebrow raised as was his wont.

'Where is that charming dress you were wearing when I saw you last?' he said.

'Over there,' said Megan before I could gather my wits. 'On the floor in the corner. He threw it there when we started to play cards.'

'My dear,' he said to Megan, 'Could you do something about that?' He pointed to my plainly displayed pikestaff, 'I find it something of a distraction when I am trying to think.'

'Certainly, Sir,' she said.

Taking me carefully between finger and thumb she drew me aside. She began to squeeze my balls delicately but insistently. Then she knelt down in front of me. 'Soon have him discharged,' she said, looking up at Holmes. Then she took me in her mouth and, still massaging my balls, began to suck my straining cock. After my encounter with Cecily I was already close to my coming. Megan's skilled attentions soon provoked a first tingling response from my recharged testicles and then in no time at all I was beginning to feel a first surge of cum jetting down my prick. Megan held me in place and swallowed everything I could produce with consummate ease. After such an arduous day's duty, I was soon at the end although my pleasure remained unimpaired.

'That was quick,' said Holmes a moment or two later.

'He's had a busy time,' said Megan, practically wiping her lips delicately as the last drops leaked from my cock.

'And yours is a practised hand,' said Holmes.

'I am practised in all parts,' said Megan brightly. 'See, he's retreating out of sight already.'

'I suppose I owe you something for that?' I said to Megan, slightly put out by the way that I was being handled.

'No, no, allow me!' said Holmes, reaching into his pocket, 'I commissioned the job.'

'Sixpence, Sir,' said Megan.

'Your prices seem to be going up,' said Holmes.

'Special rates for the Gentry,' said Megan, 'I want to better myself in life.'

'Very sensible,' said Holmes. 'Always charge what the market will bear. One of the first lessons to be learned in commercial circles. However, now that Mr. Scott is no longer intruding on my thought processes quite so visibly, I should perhaps begin to explain what I have been about since I left Lady M-'s.'

'And I shall account for myself also,' I said, anxious to demonstrate that I had not been delinquent in my duties as his assistant.

'I have a pretty shrewd idea of what has been happening as far as you and your friends are concerned,' said Holmes.

As he said this there was a positive howl of pleasure from the corner of the room. Gwendolen had achieved her aim of the moment. With a flamboyant gesture she fairly threw down my replica and began to laugh in sheer relief.

'I am sorry,' she said. 'But I did so need that. I do apologise for having interrupted your conversation. Pray continue, I will be quiet now.' She lay stretched out on the carpet like a cat in front of a fire, quite unconcerned that her bush was thus casually displayed.

'As I was saying,' said Holmes, 'much has taken place. I followed Lady M-'s visitor. He had his cab drop him off on the edge of Kensington Gardens. A man was waiting for him under a tree, A horse chestnut, Aesculus Hippocas-tanum, as it is known to the botanist.'

'Yes,' I said, somewhat impatiently.

'A man was waiting for him,' Holmes continued. 'They at once fell into urgent conversation. So intent were they that I was able to creep up on them unobserved.'

'So you were able to overhear what was said,' I interjected.

'Not a word,' said Holmes. 'Far too much wind. A south easterly.'

'How unfortunate,' I said.

'Not at all,' said Holmes, 'I was able to ascertain that money changed hands and that orders were being given. When, shortly afterwards, they parted, I followed the second man as he set off across the park. I had already made a tentative identification but my suspicions were soon confirmed. He crossed Bayswater Road and went into a house near Lancaster Gate. As he was admitted, he was clearly illuminated.'

'Who was it?' I asked eagerly.

'None other than Lord M-himself,' said Holmes. 'My earlier surmise was proved correct.' At this point there was a gasp. Lady M-had caught the sound of the name. She sat bolt upright, her breasts swaying most fetchingly as she clasped her knees together and looked up on us.

'My husband!' she said.

'Indeed yes,' said Holmes. 'You have been the victim of a dastardly scheme.'

'But what am I to do?' she said. 'He must have returned incognito from the Continent in order to spy on me. What a vile thing to do.'

'Do not upset yourself,' said Holmes. 'Now that we have found out all about his nasty little scheme, we can confront him with our knowledge and threaten to expose him to the Authorities.'

'But if this should become public knowledge, I shall never again be able to hold my head up in Society. I shall not be received anywhere and will have to retire to the country. I simply can't abide our place down in Wiltshire. It is huge and draughty and there is hardly anyone there one can fuck.'

'I do not think it will have to come to that,' said Holmes, 'I had in mind not some legal proceedings but a quiet word in the ear of one or two men of affairs close to the Prime Minister. That would be enough to ensure that he is never again employed on any missions of a diplomatic nature and that the Honour he so eagerly covets is never bestowed. There would be no public disgrace but word would get around and he would have to resign from his clubs. His days of influence would beat an end. Blackmail is frowned on in such circles. It casts doubt on one's suitability for much government work.'

'Nor can I bear the thought of having to confront him myself,' said Lady M — . in fact I never want to see the brute again. If he insists on taking up residence again in our house, I will have to leave at once and seek admission to some nunnery where he cannot find me.'

'I hardly think such drastic measures will be called for,' said Holmes, 'I will undertake to handle the whole distasteful business myself. I hope he does not become violent or I may be forced to knock the blackguard down.'

'His is a choleric disposition,' said Lady M-, 'and he is handy with his fists. He once brutally assaulted our Vicar in Wiltshire.'

'An unprovoked attack?' asked Holmes.

'Almost entirely so,' said Lady M-. 'I had had occasion to seek some spiritual comfort and advice and the Vicar had come to the house for that purpose. We were discussing my problems which involved, among others, a nice point of Trinitarian doctrine, when my husband burst into the bedroom quite unannounced and beside himself with rage. He accused the Vicar of intentions of a substantially secular nature and attacked him. The poor man was only able to save himself from further punishment by leaping from the window.

'Luckily there is a well-grown Virginia Creeper on that side of the house-'

'Parthenocissus quinquefolia or tricuspidata?' interrupted Holmes with his customary insistence on scientific accuracy.

'And he was able to scramble down to safety,' went on Lady M-, ignoring the interjection with aristocratic nonchalance. 'My husband flung his cassock, trousers and camera after him but he was in too much of a hurry to stop and pick them up. The curate was sent round for them the next day.

'After that, of course, I was no longer able to attend his services. Luckily the Living is in the gift of a neighbour with whom I have a close understanding, otherwise I am certain that the poor creature would have been turned out of pulpit and vicarage.'

'He sounds the sort of cleric a parish can ill afford to lose,' said Holmes. 'An incumbent with an understanding of the Sins of the Flesh from first hand experience is an asset to his flock.'

'He didn't have a very big Thing,' went on Lady M — , 'but he used it with a surprising degree of invention and precision, unlike my husband who is hung like a prize bull but who wields his weapon more like some medieval siege piece than an instrument of pleasure.

'The vicar also had the sweetest set of balls you have ever seen. When he became agitated, which was often in my presence, they used to swing from side to side like an incense censer being processed down the aisle in a Roman church.'

'A charming picture,' said Holmes, 'but we must complete our plans. Have you any idea who may own the Lancaster Gate house where he appears to be staying?'

'In all probability his cousin Humphrey, a morbid sort of fellow; tall, cadaverous and unsmiling with a stem moral view of Humanity. I only once saw him show any signs of animation and that was when I was telling him of my work with Fallen Women. He expressed deep interest in the Home I was establishing for them and enquired after the means of Correction that were to be used on the inmates.

'I recall that he gave me something of a lecture on the virtues of physical chastisement in cases of moral backsliding. He seemed to regard his own hand as an extension of the Divine Will. He belongs to a like-minded group who call themselves Spankers for the Lord. They devote much of their spare time to what they call Visitations. As many as a dozen of them will descend on a place, usually one of the poorer parts of some Northern manufacturing town, and seek out women of the streets and back alleys. They urge them into the Paths of Repentance, exhorting them to bend before the storms of Righteousness and belabouring their buttocks to drive out Sinfulness. I am told that the sounds of their Redemptive Onslaughts fairly ring through the meaner streets of the North. They have a particular liking for Oldham. At the end of their expeditions, they repair to Buxton or Matlock, sore-handed and worn out with their efforts, and take the waters.'

'I had a Gentleman in Wales who was similarly inclined,' said Megan. 'An Elder of one of the stricter Chapels in Aberavon I think it was. He used to seek me out every Thursday. I had to lean over a table while he smacked my bum and cried out to the Heavens that here was a miserable sinner who had to be driven firmly along the road to Rectitude. I charged him sixpence. I used to point out that he could have a fuck for tuppence but he didn't seem to be interested in that sort of thing.

'He used to sing a sort of hymn while he was chastising me. “Spanking out the Sin” it was called. He used to beat out the time on my bottom. Of course, we Welsh are a musical nation.'

At this point I recalled the apoplectic man in the upturned dogcart whom we had encountered while bicycling in Northamptonshire. However Holmes, who had been listening to these digressions with avid interest, decided now to recall us to our present planning before I could recount my own tale of Fundamental Practices.

'Is Cousin Humphrey likely to be a party to your husband's blackmail plot?' he asked Lady M-. is he for instance likely to be in need of additional funds in order to finance his spanking expeditions?'

'I doubt it very much,' said Lady M-. 'He has a substantial private income. He is in any case by profession an attorney and I have never found such people to be short of funds.'

'In that case,' said Holmes, 'I will call at the house in the morning. I think you had better accompany me, Scott. The presence of two able-bodied visitors will dissuade our quarry from attempting any violence when we confront him with our suspicions,'

'What if he is not at home?' I asked.

'We will wait for him,' said Holmes. 'We can explain that we have an urgent communication of a confidential nature from the Foreign Office. We must take the photographs with us and ensure that we do not come away without the original plates.'

'But what shall I do?' said Lady M-. 'I do not want to return home until I am assured that my husband is not likely to call.'

'You must stay here,' said Holmes. 'Mrs. Sayers will see that you have every comfort.'

'And we can safely go home,' said Cecily, 'unless, dear Priscilla, you would feel more at ease if we stayed here with you.'

'Thank you, I should like that,' said Lady M-.

'In that case,' said Holmes, 'Megan might like to stay as well. She is already so involved in the case that I am sure she would like to know of the outcome. I would also like to discuss the possibility of the payment of a retainer fee. An occasional additional pair of eyes and ears is always of use to someone in my line of business.'

'Thank you, Sir,' said Megan. 'Would you like a fuck on account?'

'Not now,' said Holmes hastily, 'I need to consider tomorrow's encounter. Possibly Mr. Scott would like to act on my behalf.'

'I doubt if he has got it in him,' said Gwendolen sweetly.

'Please do not make such assumptions,' I said stiffly.

'Now we've upset him,' said Cecily. 'Andrew,' she continued, 'I for one do not want to cast aspersions on your prowess. Possibly a good hot bath would restore you to your customary vigour.'

'That is easily arranged,' said Holmes, 'but I shall have to leave it to you to attend to his recuperation. I am certain he will be in good hands.'

Lady M-looked up. 'What an excellent idea,' she said, 'I would like to see him revived and besides, the endeavour would help me take my mind off this whole sorry business.'

Soon afterwards I found myself happily immersed in a hot bath. Megan was holding Mr. Pego up out of the water as she soaped and sponged my sorely tried balls, while Gwendolen and Cecily knelt beside the bath, scrutinising her efforts.

'I do not think there is any more need to hold him up,' said Cecily. 'He seems to be recovering.' Megan released me and sure enough, Mr. Pego managed to stay upright. She stepped back in order to inspect me.

'We'd better give him a complete scrubbing,' said Cecily. 'Gwendolen and I will start with his feet.'

In no time at all, three pairs of hands were employed about my person.

'Close your eyes,' said Cecily, 'We've got to get you clean from head to toe.'

I did as I was told and surrendered myself to their solicitous attentions. Gentle hands soaped and lathered my body. Fatigue and pleasure coursed through me and lulled me into a half-conscious daze. My eyes closed and I drifted while the pains and strains of the day were drained from my over-taxed body.

Suddenly I jumped convulsively as though an electric shock has been passed through me. A sharp fingernail had been run up the tender underside of my prick.

'Keep your eyes shut or you will get soap in them,' said a stern voice.

Lady M-had decided to take charge. There came a sound of giggling and my legs were lifted up and parted so that my ankles rested on the rim on either side of the bath. An unseen hand began gently to massage my balls. Then first one and then the other big toe was encircled by a warm mouth. I flinched.

'He's ticklish!' came a gleeful voice. 'What fun!'

Two tongues licked and rasped at the soles of my feet. I struggled convulsively to get free but as I thrashed about, my head went under the water just as I tried to draw in a deep breath. As my lungs filled, I spluttered, spouted and flailed wildly about. Water cascaded everywhere and there were peals of laughter. I sat bolt upright, blinking vigorously to get the water out of my eyes.

'Now look what you've done,' said Lady M-. 'His Thing has sunk down out of sight. Just lie back again Andrew and think of England. We have no intention of drowning you.'

Pinioned as I was, I had no real option but to obey. As I lowered myself backwards, Mr. Pego floated back up from the depths to lie on the surface and then slowly begin his resurrection.

'That's better,' said Megan.

'I can think of a part for me in all this,' said Lady M-. Unbuttoning herself, she leaned over me. Two dark nipples swayed like forbidden fruit just above my face. Tantalisingly they were lowered to within an inch of my mouth. I strained up towards them, poking out my tongue to touch them but they trembled teasingly just out of reach.

'Like a stranded fish, he is,' said Megan. 'Don't be so cruel, Ma'am.'

Lady M-cupped her breasts in her hands, pushing them out towards me and letting them brush my face. Then like a suckling infant, I managed to latch on to a nipple and began to suck hungrily at it. Lady M- pulled away slightly and, for a distressing moment, I thought I was to be deprived of my comfort. Craning my head upwards I tried to retain my hold. Then she relented and lowered herself once more. Greedily I pulled at her swollen nipple, aware at the same time that Mr. Pego was standing proudly above the water like a palm tree on a desert island, except in his case the nuts were at the bottom rather than hanging from the top.

With Lady M-'s splendid bosom now pressed against my face and my vision thus delightfully obscured, I was unable to see whose was the mouth that now descended on my upright member, taking in half of his length in one gulp. At the same time I became aware that other soft breasts were stroking my feet, one to either side of the bath. More water was displaced as I stretched out, rubbing against them while at the same time forcing Mr. Pego up and further into the friendly mouth.

'The floor is absolutely soaking,' came a voice. 'Shouldn't we get him out of there before the whole place is turned into a swamp.'

'It's far too late to worry about a thing like that,' came an answer. 'As long as we all help to clear up afterwards, I expect we will be able to make our peace with Mr. Holmes and the housekeeper. Besides, I've just had an idea!'

As I nuzzled at Lady M-'s plump and responsive titties, moving from one to the other and feeling first one nipple and then the other harden in my mouth, I was aware of whispering. All at once there was an almighty splash and a veritable tidal wave shot along the bath. Still clinging on to Lady M-'s bountiful breast, I nearly disappeared under water once again as a soapy torrent filled my eyes and nostrils. I spluttered and lost my grip but as the waters washed over me and I went down for the second time, I was dimly aware that I was no longer alone in the bath.

A naked woman was kneeling between my legs while Megan held out my cock to her like the priest of some strange religion holding out a votive offering. Before I could ascertain whether it was Cecily or Gwendolen who had joined me in my ablutions, I was once more submerged. Peering up through the water, I saw the distorted outlines of Lady M-'s wonderful breasts looming above me. As the tide swirled over me and then began to recede, I bobbed to the surface again, only to collide with her generous flesh. This had the unfortunate effect of pushing me under once more just as I reached up with my mouth to the life-saving nipple that swam before me.

With a gurgle I sank to the bottom but, as all my past life began to pass before me, someone grabbed me by the hair and I was jerked upwards.

'Quick, pull out the plug,' came Megan's voice. Spluttering and spitting out water, I took in a much-needed lungful of air. In my struggles I had thoroughly drenched Lady M-. Trickles of water ran down her succulent breasts and dripped from her nipples into my open mouth. I swallowed once and then again, licking the droplets as they hung, ready to fall.

Then, as the receding water flowed past me, my newly-arrived companion slid towards me along the fast-emptying bath and with the truest of aims, impaled herself on my prick. Easing herself backwards and forwards, she began to fuck me. Lady M-'s hands were cradling the back of my head, pulling me on to her and keeping me away from any abrupt and painful contact with the taps. Realising that I was not about to die and that I was in safe hands, I began to respond, pushing forward to help my member in its repeated entries into that warm, receptive cunney.

'He's better,' came a voice. 'For an awful moment I thought he'd overtaxed his strength.'

'At least his most vital part is back in the land of the living,' said another. 'Just look at it!'

'Thank Heavens,' said the first voice, 'I'm certain Mr. Holmes would never have forgiven us if he'd lost his new assistant so suddenly.'

'He would indeed have been a great loss to the world,' said another. 'Although, of course, there would always have been the Scott dildo to remember him by.'

T for one would have insisted that it was placed in perpetuity on his gravestone. At least it wouldn't have wilted like a bunch of flowers and future generations would have been able to appreciate what bad distinguished him in life.'

'People would have come from miles around to stroke it for luck and in fond remembrance. It would have become all worn and shiny like the toe on that saint's statue in Rome that the pilgrims always kiss.'

'Or the Blarney stone.'

'Except that as it became all weathered and worn down, no one would think it was anything out of the ordinary any more and they'd stop coming.'

'And the moss would grow over it.'

'Sad.'

'Sic transit gloria pudendi'

I tried to interrupt this increasingly heartless conversation but Lady M-'s bountiful bosom once more stopped up my mouth. Meanwhile I was slipping and squeaking my way up and down the nearly empty bath in my efforts to keep pace with the eager quim that had swallowed up my revived member and was now bumping and boring against me.

'Ow!' said a Welsh voice as someone fell over with a thump. The whole floor is sopping wet and slippery. Help me up someone, please!'

'Your dress is wringing wet,' came what I dimly realised was Gwendolen's voice. 'Here let me help you off with it. It will have to be hung up somewhere to dry.'

By now I was growing increasingly uncaring of what exactly was going on around me as the excitement of my fuck in the bath grew with every stroke. I drove on, thrust following thrust until, locked together, we began to skid wildly along the bath.

'He's got the soap wedged under his bum,' said Megan, spotting that something was awry. 'He's going to do himself an injury if we don't get it out.'

I was grasped under the cheeks of my bum and hoisted up while another hand insinuated itself under me, groping around until it closed on the unwanted bar of soap.

'Bother,' came Megan's voice, 'it's got away again. I can't see where it's gone. We'll have to try and anchor him in position until Miss Cardew has finished.'

I was steadied and held in position as Cecily moved more and more vigorously up and down my prick. She was beginning to breathe heavily. With Gwendolen and Megan holding on to my feet and Lady M-supporting my head, I was able to hold steady as her movements rose to a frenzy.

'The insatiable in pursuit of the immovable,' observed Gwendolen as she gritted her teeth, clinging on to me for dear life.

'I'm coming! I'm coming!' Cecily cried out.

My knuckles were white with the effort of holding on to the sides of the bath. I tensed myself as her cunney almost swallowed me up. She let out a great shriek of pleasure and I felt her shudder all over as her juices flowed down. I was so deep in her that it felt as though I should never be able to retrace her passage. I could feel the sorely tried end of my prick probing her innermost being while she seized me by the hips and tried to force me even further into her. Desperately I thrust back, aware that the mixture of cum and soap had made the bath so treacherous that any slip could result in serious injury. She shrieked again and gave one last heave before almost collapsing. A couple of great sighs wracked her body and she lay back, her breasts rising and falling with the effort that she had put into her fucking.

We lay still for a moment and then, as the others relaxed their grip on me, inch by inch my swollen, glistening member slipped out of her. Lady M-'s generous bosom ceased to press against me. I licked feebly at a passing nipple and then, utterly exhausted, lay still, my undischarged firing piece pointing at the ceiling.

'He can't go to sleep there,' said Gwendolen firmly, after a blissful moment or two of rest. 'Andrew! Pull yourself together and get up!'

Wearily, I struggled upright. Willing arms supported me as I stepped out on to the wet floor. With the whole bath now to herself, Cecily stretched out full length. I looked down at her. Drops of water hung like fresh dew on the hairs of her pussey, trembling slightly as she breathed. Her wonderful big titties stood proud above her ribcage. Her eyes were open but with a faraway look in them, while a big silly grin spread over her face.

Pride stirred in me at the thought that even in my exhausted state, I had been able to satisfy her once more. I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders.

'It's all right,' I said, shrugging off my supporters, 'I can stand up.' Megan, Gwendolen and Lady M-let go of me and I collapsed.

That night, or rather during the remainder of the night, I slept the sleep of the dead. Who put me to bed I do not know, nor who brought the bowl of sustaining broth. Truly I had been driven to the limits of human endurance. Like some explorer in the Dark Continent struggling through the jungles, or the master of a ship, thrusting its way through the ice floes of the Greenland Sea in Search of the North West Passage, I had endured and survived. As I closed my eyes, visions of pussies swam before me. I reached down to touch my trusty tool. It was also dead to the world. All I could hope was that we would both wake in the morning. I snuggled down and lapsed into unconsciousness.

'Mrs. Sayers reports that you acquitted yourself nobly last night,' said Holmes.

We were swaying along in a cab, en route to the Lancaster Gate house and our rendezvous with the unsuspecting Lord M-. I had been roused at what had seemed an unearthly hour. I was still deeply fatigued but determined not to let Holmes realise my weakened state.

'Although she was left with rather a lot of clearing up to do,' he went on. 'Wet clothing everywhere. She's getting rather rheumaticky in the knees and all that bending down and picking things up is not good for her. Luckily Megan helped. When I left they were doing the washing up together.'

'Washing up?' I said, 'I do not recall a meal.'

'Soup bowls and dildoes,' said Holmes. 'At least two of the latter, recently used. Obviously they belonged to our guests. If they have need of them again while we are out, they can be found on the draining board.'

I accepted the reprimand. It was true that his rooms had been left in some disarray, although I had not personally been responsible for much that had gone on and for the life of me I did not know what I could have done to persuade our guests to behave with more decorum. I decided to change the subject.

'The blackmailer's photographs,' I said. 'There appear to be two sets: one that was presented to Lady M-as evidence of her activities, and a second, sent to you by her husband with a request that you discover the identities of the intruding members. You suggested when Lady M-first arrived that the pictures had been taken by her husband. Surely he would have recognised the gentlemen involved. Or at least some of them?'

'The answer to your question, Scott, is that, whilst he took the photographs, he was not actually present at the time.' 'I don't understand,' I said.

'The explanation is quite simple,' said Holmes. 'Last night, I took the liberty of inspecting the marital bedroom at Lady M-'s. I found a thin but strong wire attached to one of the legs of the bed. It led through a small hole carefully bored in the wainscoting, into the next room, up the wall and back into a loft space immediately above the bedroom. A spyhole had been cut in the ceiling. It was almost invisible from below since there is some intricate plaster moulding that hides it. I peered through the hole. It is lined up precisely on the bed. In the loft were traces of powder burns and indentations in the dust.

'A camera must have been positioned there, lined up on the bed. Because of the restricted field of vision, only a few square inches of any visitor could be seen.'

'And the camera would be triggered off by any pronounced movement of the bed,' I said. 'Such as that occasioned by a bout of fucking.'

'Precisely,' said Holmes. 'Exposure below would be followed by exposure above. No doubt there were many times when the bodies were not lined up with the lens and nothing of interest was recorded, but so great and so frequent is that poor creature's need for consolation in her unhappy marriage, that some at least were likely to be recorded in flagrante delicto as the lawyers would say.'

'And you have in fact made some identifications of the instruments of pleasure involved?' I asked.

'I have narrowed down the field considerably,' said Holmes, 'to the point where I could make a positive identification with only a little more research if I so chose.' He drew out the portfolio and showed it to me.

'For instance, this fellow here,' he continued, picking one specimen out. 'What do you make of that?'

I scrutinised the proffered print. 'There seem to be indentations on it,' I said.

'Precisely,' Holmes said. 'Those are literally indentations. It has been recently bitten. Notice an irregularity in the markings. You will have discerned when Lady M-smiles, that she has a small gap between two of her front teeth. I am prepared to wager that she is the biter. In addition Dr Motson, if he were here, would doubtless be able to confirm that the extent of the injuries is such that the victim would have had to seek medical treatment after the event. There are only two doctors in London who specialise in such matters. I will not name names but one is By Appointment to the Prince of Wales while the other is a Harley Street man with a practice consisting largely of military patients. Either, if it was explained that this was a matter of National importance, would doubtless be prepared to tell me in the strictest confidence if they had treated such a wound recently. However, as I said, I do not intend to pursue the matter any further.'

'What of the others?' I asked.

'The one with the Masonic insignia tattooed on the foreskin: that is the mark of a very secret lodge restricted to senior members of the Church of England. Among their number, the Bishop of Y-has a reputation in clerical circles for his zealousness in offering spiritual comfort to unhappy women, especially among the aristocracy.'

'And the remainder?'

'These two would appear to be identical twins. They could almost be the same member except that in one case, it has been recently exposed to the elements while the other is a very pale specimen. So we are looking for brothers, one of whom regularly engages in open air fucking. A countryman, in all probability a Scotsman, ever prepared to lift up his kilt as he goes about his country pursuits. His brother I suspect would prove to be a town dweller. Both were captured on the same occasion judging by the similar wrinkles in the small area of bed linen visible. So I suspect that we are looking at a Scotsman who is in Town, visiting his twin brother. An estate North of the Border and a business in London points to an interest in the whisky trade. The McShaftoe of that Ilk and his brother, known in his locality as the Bane of Speyside, are the most likely candidates.'

'Amazing!' I said. 'And have you made any more identifications?'

'One,' he said. 'Where have you seen something like this before?'

He held out a further print. I peered closely at it. There was indeed a familiarity about the object of our attentions. Suddenly I remembered.

'The other dildo!' I said. 'This is the original of the Gewirtz instrument. The one that was signed.'

'I took the liberty of inspecting it after it had been laid out to dry by the sink in the kitchen,' said Holmes. 'A remarkable piece of work.'

'What do you intend to do with the photographs, assuming that we are successful in our interview with Lord M-?' I asked.

'Lady M-'s set, I will return to her. She may wish to destroy them or to keep them as souvenirs. That is up to her. The original plates will be destroyed and the second set of prints will be lodged in my forensic library. They may come in handy at some time in the future. A good reference library is invaluable to the detective.'

I recalled Rosie the Errant Schoolgirl.

'A friend of mine is in a position to lay her hands on a magnificent collection of photographic records of female bottoms,' I said. 'Many of them are those of the pupils at a well-thought-of school in the West Country. The owner is in the process of developing a system of identification and classification of types based on the human bum. It is his life's work and he has sacrificed much to continue his work.'

'I should like to hear his theory,' said Holmes. 'You must put me in touch with him. The scientific mind must be encouraged.'

Shortly afterwards, the cab slowed to a halt.

'Ah, we have arrived,' said Holmes. 'Now to beard the beast in his den.'

'I do not intend to describe the painful interview that followed. Suffice it to say that we left a broken man in Lancaster Gate. The threat of exposure was enough. The plates were handed over and we returned to Maryleborie Road. Lady M-was so delighted at the successful outcome of our visit that she left me with a standing invitation to visit her and enjoy her hospitality as soon as I was sufficiently recovered to pay her the attentions she sought.

'We shall be At Home on Wednesday,' said Cecily as she and Gwendolen left. 'A Musical Afternoon. You might consider bringing a friend with you. It will be an energetic occasion.'

'A quick fuck?' offered Megan, before she too went on her way.

I had to decline her offer, being still somewhat drained by the events of the last few days. She was most understanding and announced that in any case, she would be a regular visitor to Holmes' establishment since it had been agreed that she would be assisting him as the occasion demanded.

It remains only to be said that a small paragraph in The Times, a day or so later, noted that Lord M-had sailed from Liverpool on a prolonged visit to one of our more obscure Colonies. He was not expected to return in the foreseeable future.

By then I was safely ensconced in Mrs. P-'s Bayswater house where I had been given a rapturous welcome by her daughters. So ended my first exhausting venture into the world of Crime and Punishment.