Feature Writer: Yotna El’toub
Feature Title: The Perversion of Lady Jane Grey
Story Codes: Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Non Consensual, Mind Control, Science Fiction
Synopsis: Ned Holmes is the younger and less well-heeled cousin of a certain well known detective. He will take on ‘unsavoury’ cases, and at long last Sherlock has passed on a valued client
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content
Link: https://storiesonline.net/s/48247/the-perversion-of-lady-jane-grey
The Perversion of Lady Jane Grey
CHAPTER ONE
Holmes gazed out of the window of the hansom cab, but his usually acute senses failed him. Oh, he could hear the stomping of the horses hooves on the cobbled street clearly enough; but even his keen eyes failed to penetrate the swirling fog. “Have we far to go driver?” Ned called.
“We are nearly there sir, despite this dashed awful weather!” Came the less than cheery reply.
“God alone knows how he can tell Holmes, I can’t see my hand in front of my face.” Barked Brighton.
“He knows these streets well old chap, I expect it’s inbred in cabbies.”
“Indeed, I was amazed he could find us though. I doubt if he has much need to go to Whitechapel.” Brighton mused.
“My dear fellow, of course he will. Don’t tell me you have failed to notice the number of gentry that visit the area for, well – entertainment.”
“Of course I have Holmes, I have eyes. I just don’t like to consider it. Repugnant business if you ask me.”
“Ah, those maiden Aunt’s of yours, they educated you so well. In some respects. But this now is our business, Hove old chap. Our bread and butter so to speak.”
“I’m not sure I approve of it Holmes, I mean if these cases are too ‘tainted’ for Sherlock, why should we get involved?”
“Let me ask you a couple of questions Brighton. Firstly do you like to eat, and secondly do you like our lodgings?”
“The answer in the first instance is yes, but of course in the second, no.”
“Precisely, as would have been my reply. These cases will fill our plates, and improve our circumstances. Surely that is more important than any ‘taint'”. Holmes grinned.
“You make a good case, but I will never like it. Not my kind of game, not my kind at all.”
“Ah well, the debate is over my friend,” said Holmes tapping on the carriage door with the stem of his still warm pipe, “we are here. Now do we take this commission?”
Brighton bent forward and eyed the columns before the substantive house with awe. “I expect we do Holmes, I expect we do.”
“Stout chap! Now let us go see what adventure awaits us.”
The butler escorted the detectives to the study, and there he asked them to wait on his mistress. For a couple of minutes the young men stood admiring their sumptuous surroundings. Neither of them felt out of place, for although they were not too well heeled at present, both of them had received a privileged upbringing. Upon leaving the army neither of them felt obliged to return home, rather they decided they would strike out on their own behalf.
It had been a rocky path so far, life was not as easy as they had imagined. Home life and indeed even the army had been a sheltered existence. The streets of London offered little in the way of shelter or if one was really unfortunate, existence. Holmes and Brighton, his ex-batman, ended up in a run down boarding house in the east end. Here they languished, until today, hoping for good fortune.
The door was opened and a regal, beautiful young woman swept into the room, she smiled briefly before taking a seat. “Please gentlemen, pray be seated.”
“Thank you Lady Helena, please inform us of your concerns for your sister and tell us how we may assist you?” asked Holmes.
“Please understand Mr Holmes that this is a very delicate and difficult matter. It could ruin my sister’s, indeed my very families reputation were it to be come common knowledge.”
“Lady Helena, you and Sir Richard are assured of our discretion.”
“Sir Richard! No, no, my father knows nothing of this, and nor must he. You must guarantee me. I need your agreement to this, both of you.”
Holmes hesitated for a long moment, this was unanticipated. He had assumed he would be working for Sir Richard with his knowledge. Ned felt both Helena’s and Brighton’s eyes on him. Finally he nodded and spoke. “We shall do this, if we have your personal assurance it is essential.”
“Thank you sir, you are indeed most kind. As my tale unfolds you will understand the need for secrecy, this scandal would kill my parents. My Mother is far from well, and without her Father would…” Helena’s voice faltered, and her head slumped towards her bosom.
“Lady Helena do not despair, Brighton and I will work tirelessly to prevent such a circumstance.”
“Thank you, Mr Holmes, you are most kind, and I am quite sure of your diligence,” Helena shuddered, ” now let me tell you the saddest of stories.”
Holmes and Hove sat in silence, and respectfully waited for the distressed young woman to begin.
CHAPTER TWO
Lady Helena paused, thought briefly, and then imparted her sad story.
“It was just prior to last Christmas, no wait, earlier – I had just heard of the sad demise of the engineer Stevenson – so, early December. Jane returned from one of her jaunts to Oxford where Bertie was studying natural sciences. Bertie is the youngest of us, born a year after Jane, in 1874. Anyway, Jane returned from the dreaming spires in her usual high spirits, but there was more – she was full of chatter about the visiting Professor she had met at a college meal.
Her enthusiasm and interest were obvious, but I thought little of it, I mistook her mood for the natural flippancy of the young. Had I but known, I could have protected her; although she was twenty one Jane was not worldly-wise, not in the least. I was merely glad to see her in such fine fettle; what a fool I was…
Her visits to Oxford became more regular, and her moods more fragile. I would often find her crying without any reason, she offered no explanation. It took me weeks to gain her confidence, but once I did – her confession shocked me. Jane complained of nightmares, disturbing dreams – during which she was visited by phantasms.” Helena paused.
“Lady Helena are you quite well would you like a glass of water?” Brighton asked in kindness.
“No, thank you, I must continue, or I will fail to impart the story at all.” Once more she paused, “Just a touch of the vapors Mr Hove, it will pass. Now where was I?”
“Phantasms…” Holmes added quietly, as his concerned eyes scanned the young woman’s pale features.
“Yes, phantasms – evil ghosts that caused my dear sister great distress, for these ghouls, they – well they molested her in a most intimate way. They would feed from her body, supping deep of her essence and draining her spirit. Worse of all during her dreams a dark figure was always present, orchestrating their devilish assaults. It took me many tearful sessions to get to the truth, and once I did it shocked me to the core.” Helena paused for breath.
“The fact that it was the Professor who was the dark presence?” Holmes asked, raising his right eyebrow slightly.
“Why yes Mr Holmes, you are very astute. That discovery, and the fact that these devilish creatures caused her to spend on a nightly basis were mortifying. I feared for her sanity, and for her soul, I was so anguished. I have a little medical knowledge, and I am aware of the fatal attraction and consequences of unbridled lust. Worse was to come, she confessed to pleasuring herself during her waking hours!”
“Good lord!” Brighton erupted, and shifted uncomfortably, “is such a thing possible?”
“Quiet Hove, I doubt our story has reached its conclusion.” Holmes said, nodding to Lady Helena.
“I only wish it had Mr Holmes. As for your question Mr Hove, it would indeed seem so. I was unfortunate enough to witness my sister in such a wicked act, in the conservatory one Sunday afternoon.”
“On the lord’s day…” Hove was open mouthed.
“As you say on our lord’s day. This prompted me to call our physician Dr Bruebaker, after examining my sister he diagnosed ‘female hysteria’ and suggested a therapeutic break by the sea. I of course complied, and Jane was sent with her maid to Margate to sample the salt air. If only I had known what an error of judgement I had made. If only I could…” Helena faltered once more, and dabbed at her damp cheeks with a lace handkerchief.
“Do you need your servants my Lady, you are very pale?” Holmes interjected.
“No! No, thank you, I will do this under my own will. During the sojourn in Margate there was a most unfortunate incident. Jane, my dear, noble Jane molested her maid. There I have said it, my sister had forced relations with Maudie her lady’s maid!” Helena crumpled slightly and lent forward pressing her face deeply into the lace handkerchief, it seemed to be all that was supporting her.
Brighton moved forward to assist, but Holmes seized his arm. Slowly and with a pained expression Holmes shook his head. “Is the maid still in your employ? May we speak with her?” he inquired calmly.
“To my shame I paid the little hussy off, Maudie threatened to tell the staff of Jane’s ‘perversion’. I dare not risk the servants tittle-tattle reaching my parents, so I acquiesced to the greed of the blackmailer.”
“So you only have Maudie’s word for this?” asked Holmes.
“No, once confronted Jane confessed shamelessly, even daring to venture that Maudie had enjoyed herself. I was rocked to the core, my sister was a common…”
“Please Lady Helena, do not distress yourself. I am sure this behaviour is an aberration, a one off.” Holmes placed his conciliatory hand on Helena’s.
CHAPTER THREE
Holmes sat in his favoured armchair and looked out of the window on to the grimy street, he had an air of contemplation about him; eyes nearly closed, with pipe smoke wreathing his noble edifice. He barely acknowledged Brighton’s exuberant entrance into the smoky room.
“I say Holmes, what splendid day! One would not have expected such a sure herald of spring following on from the foul fog we encountered last eve.” Brighton stopped talking, and coughed.
“Mind you Ned, you are no stranger to noxious fumes – with that odd tobacco you smoke.”
“Not tobacco Hove, just a relaxing herbal plant from the Far East. I soothes my nerves, and helps me to see things with great clarity.”
“So you say, Holmes, so you say. Wouldn’t you rather take up the violin, like Sherlock?” Asked Brighton, hopefully.
“Indeed, I would not.”
“Shame, ah well. Off to the houses of ill repute are we then, old chap?” said Hove, with a downcast expression.
“Not exactly, one of us is – but having given the matter more thought. I have decided to research our illustrious visiting professor.”
“Illustrious? More of a cove I would have thought…” Brighton mused.
“As he may well be. One of my acquaintances Dr Oliver Thomas is well connected at the Royal Society. I’m sure he will have heard of Burgabiter.”
“Excellent, well I don’t know much about science but I expect I will cope.” Replied Hove.
“You will not need to cope Brighton.” Holmes smiled.
“Oh, good – he has a way with the lay man does he? Explaining the mysteries of science.”
“Actually he does, but he will not be expounding science to you Hove.”
“Why not, surely…” Brighton’s face fell for the second time.
“You will be talking to the brothel keepers, gaining essential information Brighton. Does that not stir you?”
“No, Holmes it depresses me. I mean, that way lies temptation, and the path away from redemption.”
“You are made of sterner stuff than that Hove, by George. I do not doubt you in that respect.”
Brighton forced a wan smile at the complement. “I have no idea where to start though Holmes, I have no experience of these ‘houses’.”
“So it is fortuitous that I have prepared a list, is it not?” Holmes grinned.
“Oh absolutely…” Brighton answered, almost inaudibly.
xxxxx
Brighton walked on in a desolate mood, he had a list of notorious pubs and boarding houses to visit, and try as he might he did not have the fortitude to simply throw it away. Ned had always been a close friend, and when times became difficult a good man to stand beside on the battlefield. He could not, would not, betray his mentors – whatever the cost.
However, he did wonder about his friend sometimes, for instance, when Ned had said he did not doubt his moral fiber – was he suggesting there was something he did doubt? Also how did Holmes know so much about the local brothels. Surely he had never frequented them? So many questions, why did they never occur to him at the time? He was uncertain he would ask them if he did. His thoughts were rudely interrupted.
“Sir, I know what you are likely to be in these parts for. But I beg you to reconsider your ways. Please help rather than abuse these lost girl’s.”
Brighton eyed the formidable man who had accosted him with uncertainty, just what was he talking about? He studied the scrap of paper that had been thrust in his hand.
‘The Hebrew Ladies Protection League – Rescuing and protecting the unwary. Please support us in our efforts and make a donation to the Poor Jews Temporary Shelter.’
“Sir, you misunderstand…” Hove started.
“I misunderstand nothing sir! And you will pay with your immortal soul.” The man articulated with an air of disgust. He snatched back his scrap of paper and stalked off, doubtless to accost the next man he met. Brighton stood and stared at the back of the disappearing gentleman. Never had he felt so low, so humiliated. Pure loyalty to Holmes stopped him from retracing his steps and leaving the squalor of the Ratcliffe Highway far behind him.
Half and hour passed and Brighton started to despair. Never had he seen such places, let alone heard the repugnant language that followed on from his every question. Two ragged public houses were behind him, the Globe and Artichoke, and the even more squalid Gunboat. He took a last gasp of cleanish air before entering the ‘Malt Shovel’. As he approached the bar he heard a now familiar refrain.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jane examined the contents of her comfortable bedroom through sad eyes. Who knew whence she would next stand here; if ever. Her hand stroked the soft counterpane and rose to caress the brass ball at the top of the bedstead. She sighed, it was time to forget these childish things, time to move on. She at last knew what it meant to be an adult, the wonder of her own sensual nature had unfolded to show her the ‘secret’ that her stuffy upbringing had denied her.
She was a woman thanks to the kindly Professor, and she would repay his tutelage. She would join her mentor and assist him in whatever way she could in his vital work. Her attachment to him may be purely platonic, rather than the urgent sensuality she felt towards her own sex, but that made it no less strong. In fact she now realised that Professor Burgabiter was her one true master, and that it would take her a life time to repay her debt to him.
All things considered she had no idea why the casting off of her ‘old life’ should cause her so much distress, but it did. She lifted her eyes from the bed and noticed her reflection in the vanity mirror, her reflection pleased her. She swayed a little from side to side and watched intensely as her now unfettered breasts swayed beneath her blouse. The sight was appealing, and reminded her of her new found appreciation of the female form. Indolently she cupped her left breast in her right hand, causing the silk blouse to play seductive games with her sensitive bud. Her nipple stiffened in recognition of what was to follow.
Sighing quietly, Jane flicked her eyes towards the ticking mantle clock. It confirmed what she had hoped, she had enough time to pleasure herself before leaving for the railway station. Her unsteady legs guided her to the bed, each step a delight as her increasing dampness facilitated a most soothing rub from her silken draws.
She sat on the edge of the once treasured counterpane, before sinking backwards into the softness of her mattress. In a marvelous synchronicity her delicate fingers sank into the folds of her silk encased quim. Her other hand was busy tracing a perfect circle around the fully erect nub that tipped her soft left breast. How could something this beautiful have remained a secret to her for so long she wondered idly?
Emboldened the fingers of her left hand stole beneath the gusset of her draws and swept the seeping fluid along the ridged lips of her hungry pudenda. Jane bucked softly against the sensations her body emitted, just as she had against the strange light the Professor had introduced her to. The light that now shone brightly in her lustful mind.
All too soon the feelings became overwhelming and her urgent forefinger sought the spot that would bring on her pleasure. Skilfully her digit probed the small protuberance, bringing small mewling sighs to her trembling lips. Then it was upon her, the light in her mind burst into a thousand stars and she shuddered to her peak, not once but twice. Her eyes opened in recognition of this new development; how delightful. If only she had more time, she would have explore this revelation further. As it turned out she had been a little too tardy. A polite knock sounded at the door.
“Lady Jane, are you quite ready? We should depart if you wish to make the four-fifteen.”
“Yes indeed James, I am coming…” she replied breathlessly, ” just give me one second.”
“Fine madam, I will await your pleasure in the carriage.”
Jane smiled to herself as the cabbie’s footsteps receded. James, little do you know, but you have already awaited my pleasure, she thought devilishly.
The journey to Paddington was uneventful, and soon the carriage stopped before the smoke enshrined building. As Jane left the carriage her heart strings plucked once more.
“James, I shall miss you. You have been a faithful servant. I want you to know I appreciate that, very much.”
“Thank you madam you are most kind, but you speak as if you will be away for some time? I thought it was just a routine weekend visit to his lordship?”
“Of course it is, trust me to get maudlin over nothing. Farewell James.”
“Farewell Lady Jane.”
Jane had walked but a few steps when she heard a polite cough behind her, she looked back at her driver.”
“Begging your pardon madam, but which train should I meet on Monday?”
“Oh, the usual one.” Jane replied.
“Indeed, just checking Lady Jane. You are sure?”
“Yes, entirely sure James. Now goodbye.”
“Rather than au revoir?”
“Do not be impertinent James!”
“Sorry madam, I stand corrected.”
Jane felt his steady gaze on her as she walked to the crowded station. She did not look back.
xxxxx
Brighton cradled the scrawled note in his slightly tender right hand. He still found it hard to believe that he had paid a pound sterling to his unkempt informant, the greed of these people was intolerable. No doubt the fool would soon be inebriated under one of the unsavoury tables in the White Swan. Why were the poor so lacking in moral fibre? He pondered this for a while, but he could find no answer to the conundrum, finally he sighed and stopped walking.
CHAPTER FIVE
Daphne shivered, she was so tempted, but the situation was very strange. The man had something about him, he was eloquent and persuasive, but something made her cautious. Was it the environment she wondered? She had never been in a building like this one, or witnessed as many wonders in such a short period of time. The man returned and immediately spoke. He had a strange Germanic accent that had only added to the queerness of the day.
“Well my Lady Daphne is your mind now knowing what it wants? Will you sponsor my important work?”
“Professor, you have been a most diligent an attentive host, but I have grave concerns. I can not completely account for these. However, I feel I must refuse your interesting proposal.”
“Madam, please, I do understand, and I fully accept your choice.”
Daphne visibly relaxed, presuming her natural fearfulness had once again misled her. The Professor had reacted as any gentleman should. She reached forward confidently to grasp his offered handshake. As their hands touched a bolt of pure energy jumped from one to the other – in a mighty resounding crack. Daphne wobbled, and then slumped forward into the Professors waiting arms.
“Dear Lady if your feeble mind can not reach the correct conclusion… I Alphonso Burgabiter have the cure.” Burgabiter swung his head in a gesture of triumph, and swished his long blond hair around his slight shoulders. With a strength that belied his size he swept Daphne off her limp feet and transferred her bodily to the nearby chair.
He positioned the unconscious young woman with great care, and then clipped the restraints on each of her limbs closed. Burgabiter turned swiftly and almost ran to the large lever positioned in front of the closest engine. The engine coughed and spluttered to life, with another twist of his arm the Professor engaged the gear. His expression grew wild. The start of a new experiment was always his most exciting moment, the second he existed for!
Burgabiter stepped back, and watched joyfully as the whole building shuddered. Amidst the steam and grinding the entire room began its 180 degree rotation. Calmly the diminutive academic reached under the left arm of his jacket and unbuckled the device. With great care and precision he slid the static tube generator from his wrist and placed it on the top of the throbbing engines frame.
As the pistons located into the locks, the room completed its grumbling rotation. Burgabiter’s eyes now shone brightly; he threw the master switch with a theatrical flourish.
xxxxx
Brighton followed Scarlet’s lithesome form along the narrow corridor. He tried to keep from watching her elegant feminine gait, but his eyes betrayed him. She was most restful to the eye. When finally she halted he almost ran into her back, fortunately his did not; and she never realized his excited condition. She turned, her smile once so welcoming had disappeared. Her tone was grave.
“Maria is within. Please dispatch a courier with our draft as soon as you return to you office’s. Please under no circumstances return with the funds yourself. Not if you value your life.” Scarlet turned the door handle and walked away. She was silent.
Hove poked his head through the door frame to assess the situation. His military training kicked in and he made a swift recce. Nothing could be ascertained, for after the brightness of the rest of the house this room lay in semi-darkness. Other than a peculiar musky smell that was unknown to him, but oddly enticing, he had no information. Moving slowly he entered the room. Panic seized him, it was a trap! Desperately he fought the swaddling cloth that held him, suddenly it parted. He was in hell, surely this was hell.
xxxxx
Daphne woke, for a moment she was unaware of her situation, but the bright girl soon understood. “Sir, release me! This is an outrage, I am a citizen of the British Empire – you can not treat me in this abominable way.”
“British Empire! Pish, pash, posh to your recent empire. I come from true Imperial stock, as does your Prince Consort. Europe is the hub that shall shape the world, not this tiny island. Your Empire will soon pass, Prussia will rise once more.”
“Sir you are a cad, how dare you insult the might of Britannia. I shall personally see to your expulsion from our country!” Daphne snapped.
“You have a sharp tongue madam, but you may yet change your mind about me.” Burgabiter leered.
“Sir, my opinion of you could not be lower. You can never change my mind. Do you worst you devil.” Daphne retorted.
“Oh, madam I can change you mind. I can change anybodies mind. Look around you, see the large containers, they are storing an enormous electrical charge.
Electricity! The very thing that powers the wonders of the human brain is generated by those steam rams, they produce static charge when they drag the animal fur collars across the pipes. The containers are ‘Leyden jars’ they store the charge and dissipate it through the wonders of the Tesla coil. The charge will sweep a copy of your electrical brain activity into my invention, which supersedes all the other technology. The Burgalator! A fine instrument that allows me to modulate and adjust your electrical brain activity.
Unfortunately you will remember none of this splendor. When you awaken it will be as if none of this had happened, until I activate the alteration to your brain pattern. Then Daphne, you will be mine. All mine!” Alphonso cackled with glee.
“You are insane. A monster!” Daphne screamed.
“You call me a madman. Let us hope I am not, or this will surely kill you.”
CHAPTER SIX
Holmes walked into his living room, his mind full of his discussions at the club. Ollie had been most forthcoming on the subject of Burgabiter. His words of endorsement however, rang some warning bells in Ned’s active mind. He could, of course, recall the conversation word for word.
“The chap is brilliant, do you know he has already reproduced some of the more difficult aspects of Tesla’s work? His knowledge of electricity is second too none. Mind you Holmes, I was surprised to learn of his commercial activities. An odd mix commerce and academia. It would be frowned on here I expect, maybe it is commonplace for these European types?”
“Maybe, I would not know. I do have a fascination with science and its methodology. But I curb my enthusiasm to the work of the noble Society. Commerce though, what form of commerce is the astute Professor involved in?”
“He has an interest in a steam driven plate steel stamping works, just to the east of Oxford. He assures me steel fabrication will a be key to all our futures. Can not say I see it, what horse could pull a steel carriage?”
“A train, carriages for trains?”
“Oh no, nothing so mundane. He insists there is a great future in ‘personal transportation’. I say Holmes – could you imagine a world in which we all travel in our own steel boxes?” Ollie chuckled.
“It sounds perfectly awful, not my idea of the perfect future. Then – I am not a visionary.”
“Visionary! Now that is a very apt word for our Burgabiter. Mind you he can be a trifle odd.”
“Odd you say, in what respect odd?” Asked Holmes, with interest.
“Well for example he once took a wager that he could have any woman he wanted. Old ‘Squiffy’ Warrender he suggested a well known local songstress. Alphonso virtually bit his hand off, wagered him one hundred pounds. Very odd, in particular as Burgabiter is somewhat less than inspiring in his appearance. As I say the man is odd.”
“Did he win the wager?” Asked Holmes.
“No idea old man, I have no interest in such foolishness.”
Holmes still wondered what made the Professor so certain of being able to seduce any woman. He also mused that not many Oxford Don’s would have one hundred pounds to wager, let alone have a material interest in a factory.
Further thought was stymied by a loud rap on the outside door. Holmes sighed, and made his way to the door. He opened it and gazed upon a familiar figure.
xxxxx
Lady Daphne prepared to leave, her carriage awaited.
“Professor Burgabiter, my thanks for your hospitality, and a most interesting day. My only regret is being unable, personally, to support your worthy venture.”
“As I say, it is of no concern madam. I salute you in knowing your own mind. It is a quality seldom found in such an attractive woman.” Burgabiter lowered his head to kiss her proffered hand. There was a slight crackle just before his pursed lips approached the pale flesh. “Now I believe you have something to tell your driver?”
“Of course, I shall return presently.” Daphne replied.
Daphne walked towards her carriage, just in time to see another draw up alongside it. She smiled broadly when she saw the person who descended from the hansom. “Jane, Jane Grey! What brings you here? Are you a supporter of the fine professor as well?”
“Daphne, it has been an age. How pretty you look. Yes I support the Professor in his work, can I assume you have joined our happy throng?”
“Oh yes, how could one resist such a man? Excuse me a moment, I must pass on some instructions to my driver. I will catch up with you soon.”
Jane nodded, and walked towards the factory door, her gait was most purposeful.
Daphne turned to her driver. “I am sorry to inconvenience you Giles, but I have decided to remain here for a while. I will send for you when I am ready to leave. It may be several days.”
“No difficulty madam, I am, as ever, at your service. Enjoy your stay.”
Daphne walked back to the factory beaming, she paid no heed to the sound of the carriages departing. That life was in the past, here she would experience the future. Her heart beat wildly at the prospect.
xxxxx
Holmes continued to pack his Portmanteau, but once again he was interrupted. This time it was a puffed, red faced Brighton that was the cause.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As was his habit, Holmes was thinking, planning his next step. He slipped the letter Ollie had given him out of his breast pocket, unfolded it, and refamiliarised himself with the contents.
“Dear Alphonso,
I do apologize for not being in contact for some period of time, and I hope your excellent research progresses well. I recall you mentioning a need for sponsorship of a new project you were undertaking. The bearer of this letter Mr Ned Holmes is a personal friend of mine, and a valued contributor to the coffers of the Royal Society. His interest in electrical sciences is considerable, and as a man of independent means he is potentially very interested in adding your undertaking to his portfolio of supported investigations.
Please consider this note his formal introduction, and I trust your negotiations with him will be mutually beneficial.
Your trusted and humble friend,
Dr Oliver James Thomas, St Bartholomews Hospital, Medical School, Giltspur Street, Smithfield, London”
Ned smiled at the phrase ‘a man of independent means’. He spoke softly to himself. “One day, one day!”
“What, who the devil…” Brighton spluttered.
“Ah excellent – you are awake Hove. We are close to Oxford station now, and it is but a short journey to our hotel from there.”
“Hotel? Dash it all Holmes – this is a rescue mission! We should be straight after this bounder – surely?”
“Ever impetuous my friend. No, in this case our arrival in the late evening would only attract the Professor’s suspicion. This is a delicate undertaking requiring some stealth.”
“Stealth, yes, I can appreciate that.” Brighton mused, as he cradled his right hand in his left.
“How is the hand now Hove? Better I trust?”
“Better then that blaggard’s head. I will wager you that, Holmes.”
Ned laughed lightly ” I do not doubt it! I am not foolhardy enough to bet on a certainty.” Holmes paused, interrupted by a loud metallic squeal, “Come Hove, we have arrived, and the Randolph Hotel awaits us.”
xxxxx
Bernadette Machin busied herself, as she hated to be unproductive. The feather duster flicked efficiently across the reception desk. Distracted she paused.
“Gentlemen may I be of service?”
“Good evening Madam, I trust you have a reservation for myself and my colleague. I wired the information ahead, Holmes & Hove of London?”
“Indeed, welcome to the Randolph, Oxfords finest hotel. We do have rooms for you this evening, but your wire was a little unspecific about the length of your stay?”
“Alas I was, I anticipate at least tonight and tomorrow, after that I am a little unsure. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
“We shall be happy to accommodate you, I understand the vagaries of business Mr Holmes.” Mrs Machin smiled.
“You are most kind.” Ned replied.
“Here we are; rooms 107 & 108, I trust you will find them comfortable. I could see if the chef is still available, it may be a little late for a meal – but some light refreshments?”
Brighton, who had been more attracted by the nuances of the room than the conversation, suddenly took an interest. His hopes were soon dashed.
“Thank you for the offer but Hove and I have an arduous day in the morrow. A fast will clear our minds, and ready our spirits.”
“As you wish gentlemen, I bid you a good night.” Smiling graciously, Mrs Machin handed the keys to Holmes.
Minutes later Holmes relaxed in an armchair and lit his pipe. He studied the street below through the window. It was interesting that even away from the hustle of London life was still very evident, even in the late evening. Ned considered this as he drew on his pipe. He filled his expanding chest with intoxicating fumes. Humanity took too little time to reflect. It seemed to want to rush headlong from the cradle to the grave. This was life’s greatest mystery, and one he struggled with, what was the imperative? The reason for the rush escaped him.
Suddenly, he found his own imperative. For someone was outside his room! Even slightly drugged Ned’s senses never failed him. There was an intruder, or rather there soon would be. Holmes moved swiftly from the chair, and in an instant dimmed the gas mantle, casting the room into semi-darkness. He grabbed a solid looking vase and positioned himself close to the hinge of the door. Silent and stealthy he waited.
xxxxx
Alphonso was neither stealthy, nor silent. Despite his wealth of qualifications and careful upbringing, he acted more like an impetuous schoolboy. As Daphne bounced on his lap, her once pure body swallowing his sore, but happy manhood, he plucked grapes from a bunch held aloft for him by a gloriously naked Jane. Burgabiter soon reached his crisis, and he spayed grape juice liberally from his mouth. Other juices he deposited elsewhere.
“Jane, take her, play with her. Calm her passion, I must work. The adjustment is still not correct, she seems completely insatiable. A little too liberated, just as with you – the modulator has worked – but with unpredictable results.”
“You mean I am not perfect, I have failed you master?” Jane’s lower lip trembled.
“No, no please don’t fret child. I am sure I can repair the damage.” Alphonso cooed.
“Damage, I am damaged?” Fat tears rolled down Jane’s cheeks.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Holmes awoke in the darkened room – what a dream his pipe had caused; maybe Hove was right, and the substance was too noxious? Holmes moved his right leg, it collided with something warm, soft and very un-dream-like. The body next to him stirred.
“Dear lord, how did I? This is… What’s the time?” Ruby’s voice asked, in confused concern.
“One moment,” Holmes rolled over and retrieved his hunter from the bedside table, “Twenty past one.” He answered.
“What happened Mr Holmes? How did we… End up in bed.”
“I’m unsure, I think the pipe smoke influenced us. I usually indulge alone. I never realized the herbs effect on… Well darker desires.”
“I want you to know I am a respectable woman, I do not creep into gentleman’s rooms for – assignations.” Ruby said seriously.
“Ruby, you are blameless – this is my stupidity. I trust you are quite well.” Holmes sighed.
“Oh I should be, I have some Pinkham’s vegetable palliative. Not you understand that I habitually partake…”
“No, no, indeed, sensible precaution though,” Ned smiled, calmly, “I do most humbly apologize.”
“Well maybe as we have already sinned, it is not inconceivable that we could have some more – pleasure?” Ruby asked, her eyes twinkling.
“Do you think we should? It has been so long since I…” Holmes stuttered.
“It has only been a few hours since we…” Ruby giggled.
“You, my girl – are incorrigible, a bad influence on me.” Ned laughed, his hand rising to tousle her hair.
Ruby moved forward and welcomed Ned’s embrace once more.
xxxxx
Jane meekly followed Daphne, who in turn, trailed behind Burgabiter; he walked confidently ahead of them, guiding them to the rear of the steam-driven factory. Eventually he paused before a bare door.
“Your quarters, I doubt they will be up to your normal standards, but that is of no concern is it?”
“No concern at all, master.” came the simultaneous reply.
“Excellent,” laughed Burgabiter, “I wish you a good night ladies, and do try to get some rest!”
Jane heard the key turn in the lock, she was surprised that it caused her no concern at all, but after all – she was finally home. To her relief Daphne did not want still more caresses, her wanton friend slumped onto bare iron bedstead and seconds later was fast asleep.
Jane sighed, and relaxed sitting onto the second spare bed. Her eyes now focussed on the figure hunched in the furthest bed from her. The mumbling figure swayed from side to side, even in the half light the distress on her face was clear.
Jane decided to investigate the strange behavior of the unknown room mate. As she approached the bed it became clear that the distressed woman was avidly pleasuring herself. The half-crazed eyes met Jane’s.
To her amazement Jane recognized the madness within; she shuddered. Why was this woman so distraught? The sweat coating her skin, together with her flexing muscles spoke of how close she was to spending. The woman forced out a few words between her guttural grunts.
“Please, uh, uhn – help, oh, ahh – me!”
“Help you spend?” Asked Jane, laying her hand softly on the woman’s twisting shoulder.
“No, um, huh – help, urgh, oh – me stop!”
“You can not stop?” Jane asked incredulously.
“Not, um, ah – for days, oooh, ooooh – weeks even,” the excited female reached her latest peak, “I lose track of time.” She puffed wearily, “Any second it will begin once more, I am powerless to resist.”
Jane said nothing, but she knew. She knew she should feel something other than excitement. Something more than the desire, more significant – Jane felt the need to fight. But what was she fighting?
Confused she wandered away from the nameless woman, she ignored her cries – starting once more in response to her unquenched desire for self-loving. Jane lay down and raised her hands to her wet cheeks. She looked at the tears on her fingers with sullen, yet blank eyes. Her final thought before exhaustion claimed her resonated through her slumbering soul. ‘Something is wrong. Very wrong.’
xxxxx
Brighton sat in the well appointed dining room, he was half way through his breakfast when Ned arrived.
“Good Morning Holmes, a little late this morning are we not?”
“A trifle, but I have my reasons Hove. I discovered another lead last night. A renowned local songstress has vanished.”
“Really. Just as in the wager you were told of, fascinating. How did you winkle this piece of information out Ned?”
Before Holmes could reply, the breakfasting pair were joined by a third person. The attractive young woman spoke quietly to Ned.
“I wanted to give you my address Ned, in case you do find any trace of Constance. My thanks to you for last night…” Ruby stumbled over her words, and the color of her face reflected her name, “Thank you for your offer of help last night.”
“My pleasure Ruby, and of course I will try to locate and help Constance. May I introduce my associate and friend Brighton Hove. Brighton, this is Ruby, the sister of Constance – our missing songstress.”
Brighton rose, and after dabbing his mouth with his napkin he grasped Ruby’s hand. “Delighted to meet you Ruby. I can assure you that Mr Holmes will use every fiber of his being to find your sister.”
“I had no doubt Mr Hove, but thank you for your added reassurance. Good bye Mr Hove, Ned.” Ruby nodded briefly and walked away.
“I say, Holmes old man, you did not… Ahem… If you…” Brighton’s query descended into arbitrary gestures.
“You need a little practice in framing your investigative questions Brighton. Also you should realize, that whatever, there are some questions which will never be answered.” Holmes smiled slightly.
“Of course, well I did not mean to infer anything unsavoury, Ned.”
“I expect not. Besides which it was quite savory, and I shall relish the memory.”
“Hah! Now I know you are teasing. I should have known better than suspect you. I apologize.” Hove replied, earnestly.
CHAPTER NINE
Holmes looked around the engine room with an analytical gaze. The large engines were expected, but some items were not. In particular the odd pipes on the end walls, and the scorch marks that adorned them. It looked for all the world as if the end wall had been subjected to a lightning strike. Holmes walked over and scratched at the sooty deposit with an extended digit.
“What you see are the side-effects of my experiments in high voltage static charges. To the side of you are the results.” Burgabiter said.
Holmes turned and looked at the various sized containers, some linked to one another by brass rods. The outside of the large jars were covered with a thin metallic foil.
“Ah, in the Leyden jars. They store the results of your experimentation?”
“Most astute! You obviously are well read in scientific methodology. Excellent I shall enjoy our collaboration.”
“You wish me to sponsor you?”
“I anticipate a favorable outcome to our discussions Mr Holmes.”
“Gratifying, most gratifying…” Ned nodded. He then bent to read the labels on the three largest jars.
“I see you name your experiments Professor, let me see ‘Constance’, ‘Jane’ and ‘Daphne’. Why do you choose ladies names?”
“A mere foible of mine Mr Holmes, they are my children. If we collaborate well you may meet them one day.”
Holmes fought against the wave of disgust rising in him, he smiled.
“I would very much like to, at an appropriate time – as you determine, Herr Professor.”
Burgabiter beamed, and his enlarged ego flew.
“Then Mr Holmes you shall, but you must understand – sacrifices must be made for science. Painful one’s sometimes.”
“Naturally sir, just as long as it is one with less of a shining intellect than ourselves, why should it matter?” Holmes replied, swallowing his bile.
“A man of my own heart, such vision is unusual in the British; in my sad experience. But I can see the hand of the creator has rested on your brow. As indeed it has on mine. I shall gather my creations for your amusement, one moment Mr Holmes!”
Ned watched in seething, silent fury as the Professor scurried away. He, Ned Holmes, would ensure that this madman faced the authorities, he would indeed answer and atone for his sins!
Burgabiter strode along the corridor with a spring in his step, then he abruptly halted. The key was missing from the door! Alphonso crept the final few steps to the doorway, once there he swept back his hair and pressed his ear to the door. The unmistakable sound of a man deep in the throes of pleasure drifted through the thick wood.
“Fred! I will personally tear you limb from limb.” Alphonso growled.
“Why?”
Alphonso jumped at the sound of the voice behind him.
“Why will you tear me limb from limb? I was doing as you asked, and firing up the boiler…”
“If you are here, then who…” Alphonso’s eyes narrowed, his mind snapped shut like a man-trap, “Go fool, attend to the boilers. I have more urgent work.”
Alphonso gathered his thoughts, as Fred wandered away scratching the back of his head in confusion; an unannounced visitor and a interloper in one day. Too much of a coincidence, to neat. Life was not neat.
His decision made Alphonso smiled evilly, his right arm pumped up and down. The repeated motion was solely designed to charge the concealed generator. His face grew ever more stern, his pupils mere pin-pricks, and he turned; ready to return to his unwanted guest.
“Mr Holmes, my creations are just preparing themselves to be presented to you. Maybe you could assist me, I have some settings to change.”
“Of course how may I help?” Ned asked.
“I need to access far into the engine, could you hold my other hand. It would be safer that way.” As he spoke Burgabiter opened a door on the larger of the two engines; he reached in with his left hand, leaving his right dangling freely.
CHAPTER TEN
Burgabiter lent forward, ready to throw the master switch. The twist of his wrist was never made, he was thrown sideways away from the switch by the arrival of a bullish Brighton. Alphonso struggled against his assailant, while trying to regain his breath – which had been unceremoniously blasted from him. A trio of naked women arrived to witness the flailing Burgabiter’s momentous endeavour; to throw off a livid Hove.
Try as he might he could not overcome the other mans athletic ability, then he spied a brass rod if he could just reach it…
“Jane, pass me the rod, help me to dislodge this lout.” Alphonso screamed.
Jane hesitated, her face a mask of confusion, tears welled up in her eyes.
“Now girl, your master commands it!” Alphonso barked, angrily, “Before this dolt chokes the life from me.”
Jane moved with surprising speed, she retrieved the rod and placed it in an outstretched hand. The fingers closed around it thankfully. The rod crashed into a skull with a resounding thud.
Alphonso rolled to one side, and the figure beneath him stood. Hove gazed at Jane open-mouthed. “Thank you, most helpful…”
“I had to, there is something wrong. And he is the cause of it.” Jane pointed a dispassionate finger at the slumped professor.
“You are correct, will you attend to the others while I check on Ned?”
Jane nodded, and returned to the others who cowered in fear having seen their master felled.
Hove ran over to Ned and proceeded to rouse him, by delivering stinging slaps to his face. On the third slap Ned grumbled, lifted his head, and from his seated position gazed into Hove’s midriff. “Good lord Brighton! Put it away… What a sight for a chap to awaken to.”
Brighton glanced down, his right hand cupped his ‘crown jewels’ and returned them to the inside of his britches. “Sorry Holmes, I forgot I was in a state of dis-array.”
“Apology accepted, if you can just assist me in getting out of this damnable chair…”
Holmes stood staring down at Burgabiter, contempt distorting his normally handsome face. He swung his head and steadied his gaze on Brighton. “My thanks to you Hove, I doubt if this blighter had pleasant plans for my mind. Thanks to your action I am still whole.”
“A pleasure Holmes, what do you intend to do with this madman?”
“Hand him over to the authorities. But first we must return these ladies to their virtuous selves. It is our duty before god!”
“Well said Ned. I can not agree more, none should have to suffer the ignominies these poor ladies have.”
“I think it should be a simple task to connect the correct jar and reverse the electrical flow. This will return the unaltered brain patterns back to our mis-guided girl’s.”
“Capital, if you say so Holmes.”
“Which of you is Jane?” Asked Holmes.
Jane stepped forward.
“This is the girl that saved us Holmes, she handed me the weapon which felled the villain.” Hove explained.
“Impressive, even controlled by the nefarious Professor her basic humanity surfaced. Madam I am in your debt.”
“I feel that I am more in yours Mr Holmes.” She replied smiling.
“Please take a seat in the chair, I will make this as painless as I can. Hove go back and see if you can retrieve the ladies clothes. I anticipate their nakedness will cause them some embarrassment, once they are returned to their natural state.”
Hove nodded, and walked past the huddled forms of Constance and Daphne. He smiled down at them kindly. “You will soon be restored ladies, fear not.”
xxxxx
Jane and Constance sat fully clothed, if a little shame-faced by the side of the steam engine. It was clear to Holmes that they had sufficient memory of their adventures to find them deeply disturbing. Ned turned and walked up to gather Lady Daphne.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Hove waited impatiently on Platform One at Oxford’s steam railway station. It was no fault of the GWR, no, their splendid service was running to time. It was Holmes who was late, unbearably late. Brighton stood beside Lady Jane alone, just as he had dined with her last night.
As for the embarrassment upon leaving the hotel, that had been intense. Hove had been unable to settle the bill, and had no option other than to leave a personal guarantee with a sour- faced Mrs Machin. He very much doubted that they would be welcome in her establishment once more. These dark thoughts thundered through Hove’s mind, right up to the point when Holmes finally deemed it necessary to arrive. He carried an elongated parcel wrapped in brown paper and his customary Portmanteau.
“I say Holmes, just where the merry hell have you been?” Hove burst out.
“Brighton, please! There are ladies present. I apologize profusely, I was unavoidably detained. The other reason for my lateness is stopping off to settle the account at the Randolph. I should apologize again for the circumstances I left you in. But you coped admirably as I knew you would. Mrs Machin was most understanding, once I explained about ‘the vagaries of business'”.
“Is that what it truly was Ned, business matters?”
“Matters that arose subsequent to business, to be more precise.” Holmes smiled.
“Well, I personally doubt that. It is my belief that you have been over-indulging, you are late, you appeared washed-out and tired. I detect a case of over-indulgence.”
Holmes’s eye widened, “Ahem, over-indulgence in what Hove?” he asked, in a whisper.
“That damnable pipe Ned, you imbibed and lost all track of time. Probably spent the night on some cold, hard park bench – most unsatisfactory.”
Holmes sighed. “Brighton your powers of deduction are a near match for your bravery.”
“Thank you Holmes, I am glad you finally realize it,” Hove’s sentiment was interrupted by the arrival of the ten-fifteen t London Paddington.
They were greeted at the station by James. His smile of welcome extended very nearly from ear-to-ear.
“Lady Jane, welcome home! I have polished the carriage and livery in your honor.”
“Really James, such a fuss! Anyone would think I was the prodigal son.” Jane smiled.
Once Jane was ensconced in the carriage, James turned to Holmes and Hove. “Gentlemen, I and the family are deeply in your debt.”
“Pleasure James, Hove and I are just pleased to see this matter resolved. You are at least in part responsible, and you serve her ladyship well.”
James said no more, he merely touched the brim of his hat and clambered up to his seat.
Soon Ned and Brighton were back in the delightful company of Lady Helena, this time with her younger sister.
“Words fail me gentleman, you have saved not only the honor of the Grey family name, but very likely my parent’s very lives. We carry a debt, to you both, that we can never fully repay. But I trust this may compensate you for your labors.” Lady Helena handed over the draft to Holmes.
Hove’s eyes widened at the sum. “Good lord! Are you sure, why this is a small fortune.”
“Which we humbly accept with good grace, your ladyship,” Holmes glared steely-eyed at Hove, “our business is concluded. Farewell dear ladies and thank you.”
Helena watched sadly as Holmes and Hove departed.
“Jane I only hope you can meet an equivalent man of suitable standing. Then my desires for you would be complete.” Helena smiled at Jane, and then winced holding the back of her neck.
“Helena, are you all right?” Jane asked.
“Oh, it is just the stress of the past few days I expect.” Helena winced once more.
THE END