The Tattooed Gentleman Ch 05

Author's note:

Since it has been a few months since I posted the first four chapters of this saga, a brief synopsis of the preceding events seems in order.

Miss Devereaux, a lady of the evening appeared at Holmes and Watson's apartments bearing important news for one of her regular clients, Sherlock Holmes' brother Mycroft, an official in Her Majesty's Foreign Office. Following a diplomatic incident in an Eastern European country, involving an official with the Ministry of the Exchequer, Mycroft had instructed Devereaux to be alert for anyone bearing a particular tattoo, the sign of a secret society. She had seen the tattoo on her latest client and rushed to report it as soon as he left.

Holmes and Miss Devereaux immediately left to inspect Devereaux's chamber for any clues and then reported the event to Mycroft. Holmes left Miss Devereaux with Mycroft while he left to pursue further investigation.

The next morning, Inspector Lestrade from Scotland Yard consulted with Holmes regarding the murder of two men who turned out to be Miss Devereaux's tattooed client of the previous evening and the chief of security at her brothel. Holmes instructed Watson to interview the staffer at the Ministry of the Exchequer who introduced the tattooed gentleman to the brothel, while he followed up leads in the London underworld.

Mycroft, recognizing Miss Devereaux's precarious situation, assigned one of his female agents, Irene Adler as Miss Devereaux's bodyguard. This chapter follows Miss Devereaux's movements the day after she first appeared at the door of 221B Baker Street. If you haven't already done so, I highly recommend you read the preceding chapters in order.

Chapter 5, Devereaux

Sir Mycroft shook me awake. In my loins I felt a luxurious ache to remind me of the pleasures imparted by the magnificent tools wielded by the two illustrious Holmes brothers and, had I had my way, I would have prolonged our dalliance. He however would have none of it. "We must install you in a place of safety and provide for your protection. I have procured a bath for you and have sent for fresh clothing. When you are refreshed, I will introduce you to one of my agents, who will serve as your bodyguard. Another agent has already donned your clothes from last night and returned to Madame DePanne's to confuse any surveillance."

Upon emerging from my bath, I found clothing laid out for me such as to disguise my profession from any observer. Today, it seemed, I was to assume the look of a domestic, my charms hidden away behind a severe black skirt and shapeless white blouse, buttoned to my neck and my hair tied up into a severe bun. Sir Mycroft returned accompanied by what I at first took to be one of the Diogenes Club porters. I was soon shocked to discover it was a woman dressed in livery. Sir Mycroft introduced her as Miss Irene Adler. "She is one of my most accomplished agents," said he. "She will be your constant companion so long as need be. I have secured the cooperation of Colonel Abercrombie, an Under Secretary at the Foreign Office. You both will appear to be members of his household staff whenever you appear in public, but, for safety's sake, I urge you to limit such appearances. Miss Adler is proficient in all manner of self-defensive measures. You can trust her with your life."

Miss Adler and I exited the Diogenes Club and were taken to a private home in a fashionable neighborhood which we entered as we had exited the club, to wit, through the delivery entrance. The staff there, apparently accustomed to similar subterfuge in the past, led us to a suite of rooms on an upper floor and I passed a pleasant morning getting acquainted with my new accommodations.

Shortly after noon, a message arrived for Miss Adler. Her face fell as she read it. "Sir Mycroft's fears are well founded. Your client of last evening was found dead this morning in the company of the corpse of your doorman, Boris, both the victims of violent murder."

That news struck me as a blow to my solar plexus. "What manner of intrigue have I fallen into? And poor Boris; how is it possible he is involved? "

"It is clear that the leader of the cadre of foreign agents is eliminating threats to his mission. Your client's dalliance brought the attention of Sherlock Holmes, thus he had to be eliminated. Boris could identify you so he was a threat. We must be vigilant. It is certain that you also are targeted."

Hearing Miss Adler's analysis of the situation piqued my curiosity. "Sir Mycroft holds you in high regard. How is it that the Foreign Office employs female agents in such matters?"

"In truth, we are both of the same profession. You fuck the patrons of Madame DePanne's establishment. I fuck gentlemen whom the Sir Mycroft's Agency suspect of working at cross purposes to those of the realm. There is no better method than pillow talk to extract information from a man. My work puts me in greater danger than does yours, so I have been taught methods of protecting myself, making me useful as a bodyguard when the need arises."

"Would you be willing to teach me some of those methods? The occasional client of the house will show a penchant for violence, sometimes even to the extent of rendering a girl unable to work for a time. It would be reassuring if we possessed means of protecting ourselves. Such training will have the added benefit of relieving the boredom of this forced confinement."

"It would be my pleasure. Let us begin immediately."

Miss Adler commenced an impromptu course of instruction in methods a woman can use to protect herself when a man takes it upon himself to abuse her. For the better part of an hour, she lectured upon the techniques and demonstrated to me the proper bodily postures to execute those techniques to best effect. Then she declared it to be time for practice wherein she would assume the role of the male aggressor and I would demonstrate what I had learned. She further declared that in order for the lesson to be the most realistic, we should practice in the nude, as this would likely be my state and that of my assailant when I found myself most needful of putting my training to use.

She quickly shed her clothing and proudly displayed herself to me. My impression upon first meeting her had been that her body was somewhat mannish and seeing her in the buff did little to dispel that notion. Her breasts were small with dark areolae surrounding nipples that pointed boldly upward. Her waist was slender and her hips only a trifle larger. While her muscles were not as prominent as those of a man, she left no doubt that she was accustomed to exercising them. I was awestruck.

"Stop staring as though you have never seen a naked woman, and remove your own clothing," she ordered. This room is chilly and we need to warm ourselves through physical exertion."

Self-consciously, I complied, abashed at how my fleshy midsection and saggy breasts appeared in stark contrast to her physical perfection. She led me through a series of stretching exercises to forestall any muscular cramping that might result from subjecting them to unaccustomed use. Next, she tutored me in a daily regimen designed to strengthen and limber my sinews so that they would be ready to serve me whenever the need arose. Finally, she declared me ready to practice self-defense against her aggressions. My feeble attempts to follow her instructions were a farce as she landed simulated blow after blow that, had they been in earnest, would quickly have incapacitated me.

After a particularly egregious failure to fend off an attack we both collapsed on the floor in laughter, my flaccid, sweaty body jiggling in mirth, hers bearing a similar sheen, but her toned muscles displayed not a hint of softness. "I think it will take many more lessons if I am to achieve any semblance of proficiency," I gasped. "But I do thank you for showing me how much I need to learn."

Impulsively, I leaned to her for a quick kiss on her cheek. To my amazement, she grasped the back of my head, redirected my mouth to hers, and responded with fervor, her tongue forcing its way through my lips. What began as a chaste peck quickly devolved into a passionate osculation, our tongues dueling for primacy. Her left hand found its way to my quim while her right massaged my breasts, pinching first one nipple then the other to coax them to hardness. For my part, I responded with equal ardor while reveling in the sensations that her attentions elicited. Breaking our kiss I dropped my mouth to her nipples and sucked them to stiff points. She deftly reversed her position to place us in a classic soixante-neuf and we fell to upon each other's muff to our mutual delight. My attentions were soon rewarded with a gush of wetness as she briefly released her mouth from my quim to surrender to her climax. But she soon resumed her ministrations with renewed enthusiasm and I was perforce brought to the gates of ecstasy accompanied by my own copious discharge.

We lay spent upon the floor but our sweaty bodies quickly began to chill and were obliged to cover ourselves. "My training sessions with male partners often conclude thusly," she offered. "Physical exertion seems to amplify my lusty desires. Whatever my body is capable of, I love to develop to the fullest extent. I adore the male figure as depicted in classical Greek statuary and model my own body as the female version of that ideal. Not for me the Rubenesque curves and pale skin color emblematic of current fashion. I further strive to be as robust a practitioner of sexual congress as I am a specimen of my physical ideal."

Resuming the conversation we had started before commencing my physical training, I asked how she had ever come to such a career. "I would never have guessed that Her Majesty's government allows women to whore themselves in its service."

"It was truly my own idea. My Agency has long employed female agents for when an investigation requires us to interview women. Experience has shown that women often respond more openly to other women. A few years ago, I was involved in a particularly stubborn case. None of our agents were able to make any headway. Finally, I persuaded my superior to allow me to attempt to seduce one of the principals, a man of some sixty years, and a regular patron of an establishment similar to your place of employment. From interviews with his hostesses, I learned that he was somewhat anxious about his declining sexual prowess. I installed myself in his favorite bordello and, using my own skills in the erotic arts managed to convince him that he was performing as well as any man half his age. I became his regular toffer and from our conversations in the afterglow of our trysts, I was able to glean important information and eventually crack the case. It is now standard procedure to place an agent in the houses patronized by suspects."

"In fact, I believe the two of us should return thither. The two murders thus far will not be the end of this affair. I fear the next blow will be directed at you and will fall upon your house."

We gathered up our strewn garments and prepared ourselves for departure, again through the staff's egress. In keeping with our disguise, we foreswore any conveyance and walked in the direction of Madame DePanne's. "I have been thinking," she said. "You have shown courage and initiative during this affair. I believe you could become a valuable addition to our covey of female agents. Would you consider a change of employers?"

I could scarcely believe my ears. Even In the most lurid of my dreams, I had never pictured myself in the role of a femme fatale. Nevertheless, the prospect of shagging in service to Her Majesty rather than for the profit Madame Depanne's house struck me as a promotion. "Madame is judicious in whom she allows to patronize her house, the better to protect us from the poxes that plague working girls. Can your Agency offer similar protection?"

"A most prudent question," she replied, "which only serves to confirm my judgement of your ability to keep your wits about you. Our Agency provides us with a plentiful supply of sheathes and we insist on their use. Some men object, claiming it reduces the intensity of the experience, but the counter argument of the reduction of the risk of scandal is enough to convince them."

By the time we reached my place of employment and presented ourselves at the servant's door, it was after dark. Neither the cook nor the maid recognized me until I spoke, attesting to the efficacy of my disguise. Most of the girls were already engaged, but we gathered in the sitting room with Madame DePanne and the two still awaiting gentleman callers. Miss Adler was just beginning to explain our concerns, when we heard a cry of, "fire" from below stairs. One of the girls screamed and jumped up to exit, but was brought up short by Miss Adler's command to hold. "I smell no smoke. This is but a clumsy subterfuge to incite us to panic. It was once practiced upon me by one infinitely more cunning, and that time, only good luck prevented me from outwitted by it. Stay here and calm anyone from upstairs who may have heard the alarm while I investigate the source. Miss Devereaux, come with me, please."

I arose and followed her out of the sitting room. "The alarm is a transparent ruse," she said. "I believe someone is waiting to abduct you as you flee the house. If we move quickly, perhaps we can turn the tables on the abductee. He does not know you by sight, but from your late client he knows which chamber is yours. Thus, he will have to station himself within sight of your door. Is there any other way we can get there?"

"Yes, all of the girls' rooms are interconnected and fitted with a bell pull. Sometimes a client will get out of hand and we girls need to summon assistance."

"Excellent. We shall slip unseen into your room. Dressed as I am, I can pass as your client as I exit first. You will need to quickly change into your more familiar clothing and dash out behind me. When the attempt is made, we shall turn on the scoundrel and overpower him."

"While I am changing you can also. I have one client who likes to pretend he is a peer. He leaves his top hat, cape, and walking stick in my chamber. It is a more apt costume than a servant's livery for one of my clients."

"An excellent idea! Let us be about it."

We rushed up the back stairs into the first chamber and through the connecting doors of two more before reaching mine, disturbing only one couple hurriedly dressing, the other two having already been vacated. I, having ample practice at rapidly disrobing, made quick work of my own costume change while she threw on the cape, donned the top hat, and grabbed the walking stick of my client. She left the chamber and hastened down the corridor toward the stairs to the kitchen with me at her heels. Just as she reached the head of the stairs, a door opened before me and a man jumped out and grabbed me. Despite my being somewhat prepared, I could only offer feeble resistance against his strength, but Miss Adler quickly reversed direction and felled him with a well-placed blow from the walking stick. "Quick, fetch a rope," she shouted as she pinned him to floor with her knee in the small of his back and twisting his arm painfully behind him. I quickly removed a drapery tie and we made short work of binding him.

"Summon Sherlock Holmes Immediately," she ordered.

We marched our subdued prisoner down the stairs into the dining room to await the arrival of the great detective while Madame quieted both the purveyors of the house's wares and their customers and bade them return to the evening's business as if nothing untoward had occurred.