Note- I do not own the rights to the works of Conan Doyle, this is purely a parody of his characters intended to amuse. Likewise anything I have written here is totally made up and any resemblance to real persons is coincidental.
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Scarlett Johansson had always been a keen and avid reader of the Sherlock Holmes stories ever since she was a young girl and had read them over and over. Intrigued by the website known for erotic fiction, 'Literotica,' she decided to write her own unique twist on the famed detective.
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'The singular case of the stolen dildo.'
London, 1887.
Doctor Emma Watson gazed out of one of the two broad windows of 221B Baker Street on another foggy day in London Town. She surveyed the busy scene of horse drawn two wheeled Hansom cabs and members of the public going about their everyday lives. The window kept out much of the noise and foul air which was a blessing, London being one of the heaviest populated cities in the world. She turned to the other person in the airy drawing room of the upstairs apartment and spoke.
"There appears to be a most anxious fellow on his way to the front door."
The petite, young looking doctor had indeed perceived a man in top hat and morning coat make his way hastily across the cobblestones to 221B. Scarlett Holmes raised her head from the latest edition of the Times newspaper and considered her loyal companion.
"Indeed." Came the one syllabled reply.
Emma, fresh from nursing duties in the war, looked directly into the ocean green eyes of the pouting blonde. From the first day she had set eyes on the exceedingly beautiful creature, Emma knew she was the one. Every day she loved the woman more, although it was all on her side, only lust on the others point of view. Scarlett Holmes did get attracted to men from time to time and had enjoyed some dalliances in the past, but mostly it was the pleasure of the female flesh for her.
The light from a single gaslight lamp illuminated Scarlett's comely features and buttery blonde locks. The medium length hair was styled back and up and left her sexy neck bare. Emma felt her heart flutter as she admired yet again the perfectly kissable lips, plump and parted, the upper the exact same thickness as the lower. The two wore similar attire, fitted bodice that cinched at the waist and floor length skirt with puffed short sleeves. Under this both wore the usual corset that pulled in the waist and supported the bust. Scarlett's 36 inch bosom, considerably larger than the small, but enchanting Emma, was fit to burst from the confines.
"I should take my leave." Said Emma.
Scarlett shot her a look and shook her head. She adored the graceful girl, only one other had turned her head in similar fashion. Irene Adler, that flame haired buxom beauty with long legs and peach of an ass.
"Pray wait."
There came a light knocking on the closed door and an elderly gentleman entered with head bowed.
"There is a gentleman who desires your attention, Miss Holmes."
"Thank you Mister Hudson, pray let him enter."
A tall man blundered in, quite flustered and took his hat off and laid it on a tiny table. Dressed in a charcoal coat, white shirt, silk vest and black trousers, he looked a cut above the usual clientele.
"Miss Holmes, 'tis good of your self to permit me an audience. I am here on the utmost importance pertaining to a member of the Royal family itself."
"Some tea perhaps? Mister?"
"Lord Crumpet to be sure, on an errand for Princess Louise no less. You are considered to be fiercely attracted to matters of crime that usually leave the Police Force perplexed, and your sound advice is needed."
The distressed gentleman sat and twiddled with his beard nervously, his eyes wide. He waved aside the offer of refreshment and sat on the edge of his chair. His eyes stole a furtive glance at Emma who understood the look.
"Perhaps I should make myself scarce." Said the chic young girl.
Blessed with dreamy light brown eyes and a glowing complexion she seemed to glide across the room to the door as she moved. Her brown wavy hair with the honey highlights was pushed back on top of her gorgeous head in an appealing manner.
"I should be honoured if you would linger awhile. I have a feeling your assistance may be of the utmost importance. My Lord, you may talk freely in present company."
The man nodded and mopped his brow with a silken handkerchief. Princess Louise was the fourth daughter of the Queen and married to one John Campbell, widely known in certain circles to be homosexual. Holmes looked up at the portrait of Victoria on the wall over the mantle shelf and sighed.
"Of course, I was prepared to find the good Doctor, by all means stay. I have come on Her Majesty's bidding without a single moment to lose."
Scarlett narrowed her eyes as she studied the bluff man who freely perspired in his chair.
"So you say you came here directly from the Princess?"
"Quite so, quite so."
"Indeed. You didn't stop off on the way, perhaps to Limehouse by any chance?"
Both Emma and Crumpet looked confused at this last statement.
"How, how the devil did you know that?" Cried the man incredulously.
"Reasoning and deduction. Watson, you know my methods, what do you perceive?"
Emma looked intently at his Lordship but was none the wiser.
"I confess Holmes, I know not."
"You see, but do not observe. It is simplicity itself. The gentleman has a distinct type of clay on the instep of his left boot, the sort common in the area of Limehouse Basin. Why would a reputable and distinguished gentleman such as he be doing in a singularly seedy borough of London as this? The tell tale semen stain on the left leg of his trousers, the worn patch on the other upper thigh and that rouge on the starched collar tells me all. You Sir, have spent the morning in a Chinese opium den and bordello where you sought sexual relief from a prostitute. It was from this address that you finally made your way to my humble abode."
"'Pon my soul!" Declared the guilty man.
"Outstanding my dear Holmes." Said a proud Emma.
