Holmes And The Cads Diary Ch 01

Without taking overly much professional credit, I found my practice particularly quiet in the run up to the Christmas of 18xx as my patients had maintained good health despite the onset of winter. I was therefore thankful to receive a note from my friend Sherlock Holmes one afternoon suggesting I meet him at a charitable society event being held at one of the European embassies that evening to mark the festive season. It struck me as an unlikely event to attract my friend's patronage but a partial explanation came in the final line:

'be sure to bring a warm overcoat and your trusty revolver. SH'

My friend was obviously involved in a new investigation and I was, again, to play a part. So it was with excitement and anticipation that I straightened my surgery away for the afternoon and rushed home to explain to my long suffering and ever-patient wife that I would not be at home for the evening and hunt out the pistol that had accompanied me on most of my adventures with Holmes.

Holmes arrived in a Hansom promptly and, as he had retained the cab for the night we were able to leave our heavier coats, with my revolver secreted among them, in the cab while we circulated amongst middle-ranking politicians, ambassadors from the smaller European nations and the usual society faces that grace any occasion where the food and drink is acceptable and, more importantly, freely available. It was exactly the sort of occasion that Holmes would do anything to avoid in the normal run of things but, since sharing his adventures, I could recognise the signs that he was on the scent of some intrigue or another and his alert eyes scanned the room above the rim of a champagne flute which, although raised to his lips, had surrendered little of its contents to his mouth. He dismissed attempts at conversation as quickly as possible, not always as politely as he could have done either, and passed most of his would-be interviewers on to me.

'I think you will find that Dr Watson here will furnish you with a much more exciting account of that episode than I could manage,' he would say, 'given as he is to making his reports a touch more colourful than they might be.'

And so it was that my conversational skills were under constant test, allowing my friend to continue his surveillance of the party.

I had conversed with one ambassador, three ambassador's wives, a Tory member of parliament for a small county seat and a number of over-indulged socialites when Holmes reappeared from one of the other dining rooms and, brushing aside yet another request for conversation with a minor European royal with the respect due to the station, motioned me to follow him with some urgency. When we were safely out of earshot of the merry-makers he turned to me:

'The game is afoot Watson, the prey has been flushed and we must move now to keep up. When we get to the Hansom change into your heavier coat and check that pistol of yours.'

We trotted down the front steps of the embassy to find our Hansom waiting for us.

'The carriage you asked me to watch has just left Mr 'Olmes,' said the cabbie as we approached.

'Follow it Jeffers, if you please, but stay back, don't let them know we are following.'

'Righty ho Sir, I know the drill.'

We ducked inside the hansom, Jeffers cracked his whip above the horse and we pulled away into the night. As we shrugged out of our dinner jackets and into our trench coats Holmes handed me a silken bandanna for my face and a shuttered lantern.

'We may have to bend the law a little tonight Watson, just a little, but I have been trying to pin down the quarry we are following tonight for some time. The man we are following is possibly the most wanted man in London and yet no-one who knows his name or his face will say who he is. Now, if you will, you will prove your indispensability to me once more by letting me think through our actions as we travel.'

And with that he steepled his hands in front of his long nose and drifted off into the mental sphere as I kept my peace beside him.

Within half an hour Jeffers rapped on the roof of the Hansom and pulled up the horse. The carriage which we had been following, an enclosed four-wheeler, had paused by the entrance to a gravelled driveway. A man in a top hat and a cape with a large turned up collar had alighted and then the carriage had turned into the driveway, which serviced a middle-sized detached townhouse in an affluent part of town. The man slipped through into the shadows of the garden after the carriage. Jeffers pulled our Hansom up outside the neighbouring house.

'Come Watson, an expeditious approach over the neighbour's wall may be as well, it would not do to be seen by the staff.'

I followed Holmes and, when we got to the wall, gave him a leg up, receiving a hand over the wall from him in return. We then moved through the shadows ourselves, the silken face-scarves covering our faces until we were crouched in the bushes at the rear of the house watching the caped man crouching at a set of French windows which led into what appeared to be a large sitting room.

'Are we to avert a burglary Holmes?' I whispered, placing my hand on the butt of my pistol.

'No, Watson, we are, I believe, to observe an invasion of an entirely different type.'

A light flickered and flared in the sitting room and a figure, carrying a lamp, appeared at the French doors. The pretty face of a young woman, bright eyed with anticipation, was illuminated by the lamp. She looked cautiously around within the room and then opened the French windows, looking out anxiously. She started back in surprise as the caped man sprang up from his crouched position beside the window and then threw herself at him, kissing him urgently, moving her free hand under the cape and stroking his back. He crushed her to him in a strong embrace, standing to his full height so that her neck craned back to continue the kiss then they broke the clinch and she clasped his hand and pulled him inside, closing the French window behind her.

We moved carefully across the lawn to the windows and looked inside. The lamp had been placed on a small table and the couple were hungrily devouring each other, his mouth finding the soft skin at her neck, her head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open. Her hands were ranging all over his back under his cape.

Suddenly there was a glint of light as a small, wicked looking, blade appeared in the man's right hand, which was behind her back. Fearing danger I reached for my pistol and made to move but Holmes' strong hand on my shoulder stayed me. With a deft flick of his wrist the man moved the blade under and then up through the lacing at the back of the young woman's dress. She stiffened slightly in shock and a gasp shuddered from her lips then the man broke their embrace and stood back. Without the pressure of his body against hers her dress slipped to the floor, without protest from her and she stood, the material gathered around her calves, in the lamplight as the man's eyes moved, lasciviously over her body.

She wore a black corset which made the most of her ample breasts and while she also wore black stockings she wore incongruous vivid blue knickers of the French style, cut high so that the lower curve of her shapely buttocks peeked from beneath. The man stood, taking in her beauty and I realised that I too had moved closer to the glass. It was a still night and the glass was thin so when the man spoke, gruffly and commanding, we could hear him say:

'Unfasten your hair.'

The young woman, her blue eyes still flashing expectantly, reached up with both hands and pulled out two pins and her long brunette tresses cascaded over her shoulders and down to her shoulder blades. She pulled at the tresses to loosen them up and then returned her arms to her sides.

'Nice knickers.' There was no warmth in the compliment.

'They are my Husband's favourites.' She cooed.

The man advanced and moved his hand to her crotch, pushing the fabric of the knickers between her legs. The young woman wantonly moved her legs apart to allow him more access and he rubbed his fingers back and forth twice, causing her chest to heave and her to bite her bottom lip. Then just as quickly he withdrew his fingers and the small blade was in his other hand once again. She jumped as the cold blade was placed against her thigh then he moved the knife up and with two short movements cut the knickers from her and pulled the fabric up to his nose, presumably inhaling her musk, then tucked both the knife and the knickers into pockets inside his cloak. The woman looked a little concerned.

'Do not worry your pretty head about your Husband's favourite knickers my dear, he will say nothing. I, on the other hand, like that corset very much, I would see you in that again so take it off carefully my dear, I will not cut that.'

The young woman looked hesitant for the first time however.

'But my Husband's favourites, he likes to see me in those.'

The man reached into his cape and I expected him to come out with the knickers again but instead he produced a small leather pouch, tied with a leather strap.

'Does your husband have this?'

The woman's eyes were suddenly fixed upon the pouch to such an extent that I immediately presumed her to be some sort of addict and that the pouch contained the narcotic that ruled her.

'No, no, he doesn't.'

She started to chew her bottom lip again and, without once moving her gaze from the pouch, started to unclasp her corset, one clip at a time, slowly.

'Quicker' he said impatiently as he amused himself moving the pouch around in his hand watching her eyes slavishly following it.

Her hands moved quickly and soon she reached the lowest fastener, just above her dark patch of pubic hair. My gaze fell on her womanly folds properly for the first time and I was amazed to see that her labia already gleamed with moisture in the lamplight. It also became necessary for me to move my position slightly to alleviate the tightening in my trouser-front, which earned me a whispered rebuke from Holmes.

She placed the corset on a nearby chair and stood, naked but for her stockings, in the middle of the room. Goosebumps covered her skin and her nipples were erect. Her eyes never left the pouch.

'Come here, I would have you suck me first I think.'

'But the lotion?' she had an imploring edge to her voice.

'I would be sucked. I could go elsewhere, you know that.' He tucked the pouch back into his cape and turned to leave causing Holmes and I to duck back slightly.

'NO!'

The woman dashed to him, stepping out of the discarded garments gathered at her feet. She quickly fell to her knees before him and moved both hands to his fly buttons, opening them and pulling out his semi-flaccid penis which was already looking sizeable. She held it in her hand and looked up into his eyes.

'Go on my dear,' he said encouragingly, 'you know I think you do it so well. You have one of my very favourite mouths.'

She looked almost proud at this condescending compliment and leant in to kiss his penis gently on the tip. She rained gossamer-soft kisses along it's length as it stiffened quickly to full hardness, extending, I estimated, to at least nine or ten inches in length. The man stood still, looking down with a neutral look on his face. It is to my shame that I felt like I was deriving more pleasure from her actions than he was. He let her continue with her soft ministrations for a while longer then moved his hand down and grasped a handful of hair at the side of her hand.

'Suck now my dear, suck.'

She looked up at him, smiling, and then slid her mouth over his penis, taking as much of it in as she could then started moving her head rhythmically back and forth, her cheeks hollowing on her back strokes. This, at last, seemed to have an effect on the man as his chest started heaving with powerful breaths. He reached down and grasped her hair with his other hand and started pulling her back onto his shaft after each back stroke. This had the effect of causing her to take more of his penis into her mouth than seemed comfortable for her and she started to gag occasionally but he did not let up. After a few more minutes he started adding the movement of his hips and soon the woman was accommodating the full length of his shaft on each stroke and despite appearing to be in a little discomfort she continued and even started to moan around his shaft.

The whole scene was amazingly erotic and I looked over at Holmes to gauge his reaction but, and I suppose I should not have been surprised at this, he was watching as dispassionately as a scientist might watch for the results of a chemical experiment. My head turned back towards the wanton scene within but my eyes stayed on Holmes for a few more seconds as I wondered just how this could not be affecting him. His eyes sparkled with interest it was true, but it was the same sparkle that I had seen so many times before, present when he was surveying a seemingly empty lawn for clues or even a particularly interesting corpse at a murder scene. Then a loud gurgling gasp from within snapped my attention back into the room to see that the rhythmic movement had stopped.

The man's knuckles were white as his balled fists held the woman's head to his crotch, his shaft, hilt deep, in her mouth. She struggled slightly for breath but could not move her head; such was his grasp of her hair. His head was tilted back and his eyes closed. His teeth were gritted and then he bucked his hips three or four times as, presumably, he pumped his seed down the woman's throat. This caused her to gag once more but there was no let up in his grip and she struggled to swallow. There was a few seconds pause and then his hips jerked one more time. She gagged again and he released his grip on her hair. She sank back so that she was now sat back on the floor, coughing and spluttering, a mixture of her saliva and his unswallowed issue dripping from her lips and dolloping down onto her heaving breasts. He took a moment to gather himself, standing before her not bothering to do anything about his glistening and softening penis which still hung outside his trousers, and then looked down on her as a proud teacher may look down on a gifted student.

'You really are a very pleasing mouth my dear, very pleasing. I think you've earned your lotion tonight.'

He reached back inside his cape and once again pulled out the leather pouch. Despite the fact that the woman had still not completely recovered her breath she perked up immediately at the sight of the pouch and sat back up onto her knees, jiggling excitedly, her eyes wide once more. The man slowly undid the leather strap and I swear the young woman actually licked her lips. With a flick of his head he indicated a nearby chaise-longue and the young woman scampered over to it and sat back onto it, draping her legs off the sides with no shame, her now visibly engorged and wet vagina wantonly open and waiting for him, hunger in her eyes. I was surprised to see that his member, still hanging from his trousers, was starting to twitch to life once again and, by the time he had moved, slowly, to the chaise-longue, it was almost fully erect once more.

He stood over her and opened the pouch. She was now squirming on the seat, her buttocks clenching and unclenching, her thigh muscles quivering. He pulled out a small medicinal jar and unscrewed the lid, pushing in two fingers slowly and deliberately and scooping out a large dollop of a white creamy substance. The young woman squealed and half rose from the seat before falling back again. He placed the jar and the pouch on a nearby table and bent to start rubbing the lotion around the folds of her vagina and she arched her back and opened her mouth, almost orgasmically. Barely suppressed squeals issued from her mouth and as he plunged his fingers into her for the first time she started to writhe. He withdrew his fingers and she moved her hips as if to try and keep them inside her but he pushed her back into the chair and raised the two fingers he had been using on her to her mouth. She opened her eyes as her nose caught their smell and, to my amazement, she hungrily started to lick them like a cat does to cream. She continued to lick his fingers long after any visible traces had gone, working her tongue around every crevice deftly. I could only imagine what feelings that agile muscle had only recently elicited in his once more iron hard member.

He withdrew his hand from her mouth and, covering her face with his hand he pushed her once more into the chair and moved so that his caped back was now towards us. From his sudden movement and her loud squeal it was obvious however that he had just plunged his member straight into her waiting sex and her legs, which had been draped from the sides of the chaise longue suddenly straightened out either side of him. He caught them and moved them so that they were over his shoulders and then Holmes and I watched for some minutes as he urgently and ferociously thrust himself into her, pumping with his legs. His animal grunts mixed with the young woman's increasingly fevered squeals which morphed slowly into screams. It was at this point that a strange thought burst into my mind; why were none of the staff rushing to see what the commotion was, but despite the woman's increasingly loud screams, no-one was forthcoming.

His thrusting became, impossibly, more urgent and forceful and her screams almost constant, her legs now flailing around on his shoulders such that he had to grab her calves with his hands, holding her legs up as he continued to piston into her. I have never, before or since, seen a woman orgasm so strongly as the woman did, her scream reaching a crescendo, her legs stiffening and then she passed out and went completely limp but the man had not finished and continued to use her rag-doll body until he too held himself fully in her and grunted as he spasmed a number of times before dropping her legs and letting her slump, comatose, onto the chaise-longue.

He stood back and gathered his breath for some seconds, affording us a look at the young woman, unconscious, lying discarded, her arms and legs draped over the sides. Her hair was drenched with sweat and stuck to her naked skin, which also glistened in the lamp-light and her vagina, pulled open by her hanging legs and looking slack and well-used, dripped copious amounts of the man's semen onto the plush upholstery of the furniture. It was as carnal and lewd as scene as I think I shall ever witness in my life. The young woman was completely and utterly spent.

I became aware that my nose was now almost touching the glass as the heat of my breath fogged the window before my eyes. I turned to look at Holmes, my jaw slack in amazement but he remained exactly as he had been at the start of the display, interested but impassionate. I could not but marvel at my companion's self-control. Or possibly at how cold and inhuman he could be.

Movement in my peripheral vision compelled me to return my attention to the room and I saw the man move back over to where the woman's dress had been left on the floor. He picked it up and used the material to wipe his still semi-erect penis clean of his seed and her copious vaginal juices. He also rubbed the front of his trousers where her juices had also left their mark. He then dropped the dress again and put his penis back into his trousers and refastened his fly buttons before moving to the table and, after replacing the lid of the jar, put it back into the pouch and replaced it into his cape.

When this was done the man pulled a notebook from another pocket in his cape. It was larger than the standard pocket notebook and was fastened with an Indian rubber band. It looked well thumbed and had loose leaves and other scraps in between the pages. Despite all that had taken place beforehand it was only at this point that I noticed that Holmes shifted forward and took extra interest. The man pulled a chair across the room and, after lighting a cigar and taking a couple of heavy puffs, proceeded to carry out the most bizarre actions. He started to sketch in the book, presumably studies of the comatose woman. He bent forward to make the most intimate examinations of her, in a very detached way, moving aside the folds of her vagina with his pencil, or roughly moving parts of her body as he inspected her, pulling her breasts up and moving her arms.