Message-ID: <54604asstr$1159578602@assm.asstr.org> X-Original-To: story-submit@asstr.org Delivered-To: story-submit@asstr.org Delivered-To: storysubmit@asstr.org X-Original-Message-ID: X-Originating-Email: [esu_migabe@hotmail.com] From: "Yotna" Mime-Version: 1.0 X-OriginalArrivalTime: 29 Sep 2006 17:51:35.0155 (UTC) FILETIME=[E7C19430:01C6E3EF] X-Spam-Prev-Subject: {ASSM} An Unfortunate Event at Deddington Manor ~ X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 29 Sep 2006 17:51:31 +0000 Subject: {ASSM} An Unfortunate Event at Deddington Manor Part 3 X-Original-Subject: [spam 8.0] {ASSM} An Unfortunate Event at Deddington Manor ~ Lines: 397 Date: Fri, 29 Sep 2006 21:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman **************************************************************** {ASSM} An Unfortunate Event at Deddington Manor ~ A Holmes & Hove mystery story) [Yotna El'toub] (MM,MF,MC,NC,magic.) Part three of twelve. **************************************************************** WARNING: This story will contain situations and explicit language of an adult nature and should be read only by those of a legal age to do so. If you are a minor or object to stories of an adult nature, LEAVE HERE IMMEDIATELY. Legal age local to the author is 18+ please abide to your own local laws. Please note and understand the content codes for this story. The characters portrayed in this story are just that, characters in my story. Any similarities to real people are purely coincidental and unintentional. The characters and situations portrayed are pure fantasy; the author is keen to state that in reality adult sexuality should remain only in the adult world. Please do not allow or cause this story to fall in to the hands of minors. ________________________________________________________________ Chapter three: Ned awoke with a start. His eyes although still bleary with sleep hunted the room as if looking for a hidden assailant. Quickly his senses returned as did the sense of panic. He vaulted out of his chair ignoring the protestations of his cramped body and rifled through his clothes. At last he found the object of his interest, and he plunged his aquiline nose into its folds. Memories flooded back, flashing through his mind like a rapier - Daphne! He had last seen Lady Daphne racing away with the professor from his Oxfordshire haunt. But she was here! This was her scent. Jane! They were after Jane, trying to tear her away from hin and his protection. "Cads! Bounders! I will tear them..." Holmes paused, Brighton! Hove would know what to do. Dressed only in his nightgown as yet still unshaven Ned rushed from his dim bedroom and hurtled down the corridor. He managed to resist the urge to scream; but only just and purely due to his military training. -------------------------- He yawned lustily as he wandered down the darkened passage. "Why me?" he thought, "Why is it always me?" He uttered a curse and kicked at the dank mossy wall. Bertie was not happy. Not happy at all. He had not slept well. He had imbibed too much from the cellar so to endure the boredom of the previous evening. And now this - he had to feed these things; Burgabiter's failures were so very repulsive. Bertie swore once more and swung the bucket into the wall. The clanging sound set of a chorus of grunts, whoops and howls that almost deafened Bertie. The scientist in him wondered about this; were they expecting him? Did the clang of the bucket mean food to them? What did it matter, he would never be able to publish now. Besides which what sort of scientist could make a name for himself from something as simple as a conditioned response? His mood darkened; a lifetime of feeding misfits, not exactly what he thought Alphonso had been offering. No in his own mind that had all been wine, women and song. Now it was regret, hard work and these blessed oaf's. Cautiously he slid back a panel in an iron reinforced door. Bertie tipped some of the slop in his bucket through the gap; he did not even aim at the rancid receptacle. No that would have brought the slithering mass of monstrosity in to his view; something he would fight hard to avoid. Religiously he worked his way along the damp corridor feeding each inmate. Bertie tried hard not to notice the unappealing stench of offal and whatever it was that these things excreted. Wearily he turned the corner and stopped dead. "Damn and blast not again!" Nervously her peered into the darkness, hoping, praying that it had gone. The reassuring sound of a forced window swinging in the early morning breeze was welcome music to his ears, he sighed. Then Bertie gazed at the shattered door and spoke to the vacant cell. "Well beastie it will not be me you feed on, and I hope in god's name it is not yet another ruddy shepherd." Bertie frowned. He would have to tell Daphne. Ah well, that could wait. For now came the only pleasant part of his duties. He opened the only door that remained unlocked at all times. "Morning Raymond! Excellent - I see you are prepared." A tall being of athletic build stood and approached Bertie. As he walked his regal erection bobbed, at each step a globule of secretion formed and dripped to the cell floor. Finally his moist lips met Bertie's. The young lord bucked as the sweet aphrodisiac Raymond's golden skin perspired swept over him. No female had ever brought Bertie such pleasure. Indeed, no human. But of course Raymond, he was not human. -------------------------- Brighton was crawling along a sandy ditch, his stomach pressed hard into the desert dust. He was sure he could hear the Mahdist's approaching; the devil's never were subtle. Suddenly he was grasped by the shoulders! The Sudanese shook him violently. "Brighton, Brighton... Come on Hove"! Now here was a turn up for the book. The devil did not only speak in English, but he knew his name! "Brighton, wake up! It is I!" "Wha.. Who the dev... Holmes is that you?" "Yes it is I, and you are in England, not Khartoum." Replied Ned. "Well that is a relief. But what in the blue blazes is wrong?" Yawned Hove. "They are going after her - they are here, Daphne... Do you understand." "Not a blessed word old chap. Now calm down and start at the beginning." Brighton listened incredulously at Holmes excited patter; he spoke of his love for Jane, his fear of her kidnapping, and all manner of speculation. Hove frowned and let out a low whistle when Ned finally ended his jumbled tirade of words. "Well old chap it has certainly got you upset. A bad dream I expect, never did like to eat so richly; it toys with all manner of emotions. Now go back to bed get some much needed sleep and we will discuss this in the morrow." "No you fool! Have you heard nothing!" Holmes virtually screamed. "Shhh, you will wake someone soon. Can we not discuss this at a more godly hour?" "No and the discussion is over, as you are leaving!" Snapped Ned. "Leaving?" Hove cocked an eyebrow. Surely Ned was not losing his mind? "Have you been smoking that blessed pipe?" "I have not, nor have I been dreaming. Look it is all here." Ned thrust the scribbled notes into Brighton's unwilling hands, "See?" "Yes, I see" Hove coughed, "and this is why I must leave?" "Finally you see! Yes you must take this to Sherlock, his mind will unlock the secret. I know it will." "Ah, and Sherlock is here?" Asked Brighton. "Of course not! He's in London, Baker Street. Sometimes I wonder about your sanity Hove." Brighton looked down at the sheets of scrawl, and then back at Ned; the detectives face ran with perspiration. "I have cause to sometimes as well." Muttered Hove. "Well, up with you then, it's a long ride to London..." Prompted Holmes. Hove sighed, he had never seen Ned in such a state, and he had seen him in some very tight spots. Maybe Sherlock could shed some light on all of this after all. "Very well, but first I must dress and shave. As should you my friend." Ned merely nodded beneath his unkempt hair, his eyes still wild. -------------------------- Sir Richard had not slept, he had simply gazed out of his bedroom window all night just waiting for the light. He knew, of course, that soon the most fateful day of all would soon dawn. What's more he knew that for all his assumed power, he was completely out manoeuvred. His attention was dragged away from the window by the insistent pulsing of his manhood. He gazed at his erection with undisguised repugnance. Never had he been so virile; never had he felt so impotent. Just then a mad thought gripped him, he could be free of it. Of her! He knew what he must do. He extended a shaking lordly hand and grasped the ivory handle of his Kindjal. Today it would not simply open correspondence. Today it would taste flesh and blood once more. The tapering blade glinted; one swift slash of the steel and it would be done. He would be severed from this madness. "Now why would you do that, when I am here to relieve you in such a more pleasant way?" Richard turned his head and his damp eyes met her stunning beauty. Daphne stood just a little to his rear and left. "K-keep away from me. I am about to regain my life, my self-respect." The knife flashed, slicing through the air and towards its turgid target. His wrist was caught by Daphne's much more delicate hand. Her strength surprised him, try as he might he could nor complete his purpose. Slowly the resolve in his eyes softened and then died. He wept. Daphne moved pressing her naked mons against the nobleman's wet cheek. Soon she felt him stop sobbing. He moved. A complicit tongue burrowed between her splayed thighs, searching for the source of her femininity. Daphne sighed and pressed her overflowing grotto hard against Richard's suckling mouth. His body shook, it trembled with delight at the discovery of her sweet hidden pearl; His tongue toyed with the prized possession. "Now is that not better Dickie? See, Daphne knows what you need." So saying she raised her right leg, swung it across his lap and mounted him. In a single fluid motion his considerable length was swallowed. He grimaced as his rude member prodded the very mouth of Daphne's womb. "Ah, now that is good, keep it up and I may let you play with those nasty daughters of yours again later. Would you like that Dickie?" Against the will of every fibre in his body and every pure ounce of his soul his muscular neck moved. Sir Richard Grey's head nodded meekly - in the affirmative. -------------------------- Ralph walked along the country lane on the way to another days work at the telegraph office. He actually hated being confined for twelve hours a day. The fact that the office was based at a railway station simply added to his claustrophobia. All day long and all around him people went to and fro starting or completing their journeys across the country. How he longed for that freedom. His melancholy was interrupted by the sight of a man emerging from the Alfredson's farmhouse. This was odd. Nobody to his knowledge had lived there in the past fifteen years. Ever since that night; that awful fateful night. His expression of surprise changed into amazement once he realised the man's identity. "Mornin' Lord Bertie, how are you sir?" "Oh, um yes - morning." Said Bertie sheepishly. "Has his Lordship bought the old place then?" Asked Ralph. "No, no I'm just checking, err, that is confirming all's well." "Yes we all have the jitters after what happened to poor old Jack." "Jack, yes well. I had nothing to do with that." Bertie blinked and then blurted out, "Sorry - what I meant to say was is there any news?" Ralph eyed the young noble for just a second longer than usual. Then he responded." Well you probably know they found his dog. Spilt from gullet to groin so they say. No news of the man himself though." "Damned shame. Still I must away. Lady Daphne awaits..." Bertie grimaced. "Oh, I had the pleasure of meeting her Ladyship yesterday." Ralph smiled. Bertie quickly checked his stride, he turned and walked up to Ralph. He stood close. So close he barely had to whisper to communicate. "Listen old chap, you are a decent sort, so a word to the wise," Bertie tapped the side of his nose with a grimy finger, "Keep well away from Daphne, and this place. You understand? It will be for the best." Without uttering a further word, the heir to the Grey estate turned and rushed away. Ralph stood staring at the hurrying form until it finally disappeared over the rise behind the farmhouse. His appetite was whetted. Just what was going on? Why would the lord's son be checking anything? Let alone a deserted farm. What would he be searching for with such an intensity that he blackened his hands and broke his nails? And just what did it have to do with Lady Daphne? This was a mystery, a real mystery and here of all places! Ralph made an instant decision; he was going to read those telegrams. He still had his copy of the transcripts and confidential or not he was going to read them. He had uncovered something odd here and for the first time in his five years of service at the office he walked on whistling. Actually looking forward to the day ahead. He had not a care in the world this morning. Naturally had he been aware of the eyes that followed his every move, he would have been slightly less self assured. Once he rounded the bend and was out of sight the creature moved. It crossed the road and headed for its lair, the only home it had ever known. In its wake it left a trail - of fresh blood. -------------------------- An hour or so later Brighton stepped down from the carriage and made his way to the station platform. He had neither the time, patience or inclination to endure another bone displacing coach journey. He wondered about Holmes, why should such a free thinker be so set in his ways over certain things? As much as he liked, admired and even held a brotherly love for Ned, he never expected to fully understand him. He sighed gently. Hove smiled when he saw the small telegraph office, at least he could pre-warn Sherlock of his unanticipated arrival. Brighton entered the room with a cheery "Hello, is anyone here." To his surprise a young man virtually leapt out of his skin as he appeared from beneath the low desk. "Oh, I am sorry I did not mean to startle you." "You didn't... I was just tying my shoelace that was all." The man replied, a bit nonplussed. "Surely that would be easier if you had let go of the papers you have in your hand? Never mind, I need to send a telegram." "I thought that was likely." Chirped the clerk, who had regained his composure. He duly handed Hove a form. Although Brighton was very literate, he never did let go of his nursery habit of speaking as he wrote." "My dear Sherlock, at the behest of Ned I am returning to London with some information he wishes you to peruse." The clerk interrupted " You do know we charge by the word sir. It is best to be concise." Brighton ignored the interruption. "I myself have some concerns about Ned's health at the moment. Recent events have taken a severe toll. He seems to be completely bowled over by Lady Jane Grey. He is now convinced that she is to be kidnapped by Lady Daphne. I know he suspects Burgabiter of involvement. I'm afraid he is close to having and obsession with the disreputable Professor. I am about to leave, and I hope to present myself by mid morning tomorrow. Your humble servant Brighton Hove." "Begging your pardon sir, but that would not be Lady Daphne Warlock, currently residing at the manor?" "Why yes it could be, but I have not myself seen her. Why do you ask?" "I think I have something you need to see." Unblinking Ralph passed the crumpled papers he had been hiding to Hove, "She's up to no good I'll wager." -------------------------- To be continued... ________________________________________________________________ Foot Notes (C) Yotna El'toub September 2006 ________________________________________________________________ I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, feedback is appreciated, since it is my only payment for my work. Please address comments to yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com This story is copyrighted by the author and as such may not be published, posted or archived on any newsgroup, website, or server, other than ASSM and ASSTR, without the EXPRESS PERMISSION of the author. Any reader may archive a copy of this story, provided the warnings and copyright information is attached in full. _________________________________________________________________ Download the new Windows Live Toolbar, including Desktop search! http://toolbar.live.com/?mkt=en-gb -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+