WARNING: This story is an act of fiction that contains graphic sexual descriptions and language. If you are a minor (under 21) or if you are offended by this kind of material then you should stop reading now. Any resemblance between this story and a real event is purely coincidental. The participants are imaginary; their actions have no negative consequences other than those portrayed in the story. The story is intended for entertainment only and should not be emulated in the real world. Episode 1: Surelick Homes and The Evil Dr. Phallus! by Arthur "Cunny" Kay THE COZY den-like room had the unmistakable smell of male scrotum musk, female vaginal juices and stale Corvosier vsop cognac. Surelick Homes looked deranged, his hair stood out porcupine-like. His eyes were glazed over as if he had coated them with the contents of the opened jar of Vaseline that now sat brazenly on the coffee table as if begging to be applied to someone's anal canal. Homes spoke, breaking the pregnant silence. Dr. Whatsin looked over at him. "Quick, Whatsin! Light up my opium pipe, the old brier, but not the thorny twig model, so I can give this bawdy wench a good solid buggering!" Homes twiddled absentmindedly with his decidedly small and skinny, but quickly burgeoning member. He was working it with thumb and forefinger, unminful of the fact. He looked at the bawdy wench, who was now pulling her skirt up and over her shoulders, pinning it there. She now removed her pink knickers, revealing a luscious, full-growth brown bush. Without a word she went over to the red Eames sofa and took her by now familiar position, bent over, face down, on one of the wide, plush arms, her naked buttocks visibly on display. This particular bawdy wench was Mrs. Handson, Surelick's plumpish and matronly landlady, who now grinned lasciviously, but quite unlandlady- like at Dr. Whatsin while wiggling her buttocks seductively at him. Cheeky little devil, Whatsin mused, not missing the pun in the whimsical thought. The plush-armed Eames sofa had been a gift from Colonel Mustard to Homes for solving the mystery of The Crown Jewels affair. By exposing himself to the guilty party, one Lady Winthrop, Surelick had cracked the case and revealing her as the miscreant she really was. All it had taken was one peek by Lady Winthrop at the 18" x 3" black vibrating dildo Homes had cleverly hidden in his trousers to make her confess. That, and the words Homes had uttered sneeringly at her: "How'd you like this up your poop shoot, Lady Winthrop?" She had swooned, fainted really, and proved she was no match for the great detective. Homes was now affectionately patting Mrs. Handson's glistening bare bottom as she squealed and cooed and sang with delight: " . . . Ooo eee, ooo ah ah, ting tang. Walla walla, bing bang! Ooo eee, ooo ah ah, ting tang, Walla walla, bing bang . . . " That song! thought Homes, If she sings it one more time, it's ground glass in the Vaseline for her next time! "Coming, Homes!" Dr. Whatsin shouted as he swishingly, quite mincingly, crossed the room, the smouldering pipe firmly in hand. He eyed the delightful mounds of flesh Mrs. Handson so willingly presented to him. Homes, thought Whatsin, won't last a minute buried between those sweet arse cheeks, Bob's your uncle. Then, by Jove, it will be my turn between those incredibly fleshy twin orbs. He salivated at the mere thought as a stirring in his loins created a noticeable tent in his hand-tailored Fleet Street pin-striped trousers. He rubbed the tent and felt a surge of sexual energy course through him. Mrs. Handson, eyeing Dr. Watson's trousers, broke out into a new song, "Tenting tonight, tenting on the old camp grounds . . ." Homes quickly cut her off by applying a generous dab of Vaseline to her brown and puckering little anus entrance. She squealed from the sudden chilliness of the greasy goo. "Oowee! That's cold, Sir!" "Please hush, my dear Mrs. Handson, as time's awasting. Whatsin and I have to take care of pressing matters this evening involving a most nefarious foe, one Dr. Phallus, so we must be quick here. Now, my dear, if you'll just reach back and part your sweet arse cheeks once more, we can get on with it. Tally ho, now, Mrs. Handson!" "Harumph!" she said, taking unmistakable umbrage. "All you boys ever want is sex, sex, sex. No time for the little niceties in life. Ooooh, I say, you bugger, you, that feels good. Are you in my arse now, Mr. Homes, or is that still your finger?" Homes winced at the snide implication, but offered no protest as he pushed his penis in another full inch. Here's your finger, you old crone, thought Homes, as if to drive his point home deep into her tight anal channel. Four inches deep anyway, but most assuredly to the max. "I say, Homes," Watson said. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable in the given circumstances, if you were, uh, au naturel?" Homes was fully dressed, wearing a tweed suit, vest, shirt, sweater, coat, his deerslayer cap, and a heavy woolen scarf. With shoes and heavy galoshes putting the finishing touches on the sartorial picture he presented. The only concession Homes had made to au naturel, as far as Dr. Whatsin could surmise, was that Homes had thoughtfully remembered to open his trouser's zipper. This time. Unlike last Tuesday when, opium besotted, Homes had wondered why he had trouble finding the hole and had given the woman, a paid Fleet Street harlot, severe internal fabric burns. It had taken a pretty penny given to her to stave off her intended lawsuit and the slander that would surely have followed. At the time, a "Screw the slovenly slut!" attitude had been Homes' answer to her implied legal threats, but the good doctor had convinced him that inflicting tweed fabric burns on a female vagina was not conducive to maintaining the great detective's good and decent image. And, like it or not, Fleet Street whores would be much harder for the good doctor to procure for Homes, the streetwalker's grape vine being what it is and all. Reluctantly, to be sure, Homes had agreed. But that was then and this is now. Homes started a fierce, full-depth, pumping action on his landlady's bottom. He would slam in all the way to the hilt, the 4" hilt, pull out, and slam again. Mrs. Handson started to yell, "Oooooh, oooooh! Ooo eee, ooo ah ah . . . walla . . . " "Quick, Whatsin, occupy the lady's mouth before her infernal caterwauling drives me to distraction, if not total madness!" Dr. Whatsin knew full well that Homes was easily sidetracked when he was under the opium's unforgiving spell and could lose his erection quite easily. In a trice, Dr. Whatsin had his trousers and knickers down and off and had positioned his naked lower half in front of the singing landlady, his tent maker fully extended its 7-13/16" length. " . . . walla walla. . . " she sang. "Open wide, dearie," Dr. Whatsin said, "and take my big old birdie in." Mrs. Handson, in mid-note as it were, suddenly found her mouth filled to capacity by the dear doctor's fat penis head. "That's a good girl, now" Home proceeded to do his level best on his end, so to speak, while Dr. Whatsin, in a marked showing of impatient sexual energy, tried to fairly choke the dear woman to death. "Hmmmph, garg, hmmph . . . " she snorted rapidly as the intruding and choking organ made its way slowly down her throat's hidden recesses. "Hmmmph, gak, hmmph . . . gurgle . . ." she cried out as the dear doctor added a few inches to the matter, churling up her gag reflex. Dr. Watson tried to calm her unspoken, but heeded protestations. "Now, now, my dear Mrs. Handson, we've been here before, many times, so do your part and just swallow, old girl." He pushed in a few more inches until he had bottomed out in her mouth. Her nose now touched his abdomen while his pubic hairs tenderly caressed her lips. While Homes, heavily perspiring, no doubt from his overdressed state, pumped the dear woman's bottom for all it was worth, Dr. Whatsin excitedly intercoursed her mouth. His full-depth in and out machinations showed no mercy. Soon, the two men had a syncopated rhythym taking place to such a degree the sofa wobbled. Homes inward. Watson outward. Homes outward. Watson inward. Again and again, the pitch getting feverish and increasing in intensity. Mrs. Handson wiggled her buttocks and breathed hoarsely through her nose. A loud "Aaaaarrrrgh!" from the lady told Homes and Whatsin she had orgasmed. More than once it seemed, judging from the many Aaaaarrrrghs now coming from her. "Tally ho!" shouted Dr. Whatsin gleefully as he spewed his child- creating juice. "God save the Queen!" Homes yelled as he did likewise. "Aaaaarrrrgh!" said Mrs. Handson, who looked absolutely impaled between the two joyously screaming and spurting men as she swallowed the copious liquid seed gushing forth into her hot, wet mouth. Homes, drained dry, pulled out of her with a sploosh sound. Dr. Whatsin followed suit, making a distinctive splish sound as his rapidly deflating penis made its hasty exit. Mrs. Handson rolled over and looked dazedly at the two now fully satiated men. A large creamy colored globule of Dr. Whatsin's sperm sat on her bottom lip. She quickly licked it away, a look of contentment on her face. The two men, their penises still in evidence, with sticky sperm on each now unhardened head, took positions in front of her. "Clean up time, Mrs. Handson." Homes said. "Quickly now, my dear." She needed no further words, knowing from experience what was expected of her. I like this part, she thought as she took Homes' soft penis head fully into her mouth. She sucked the flabby head, making lip tightening manoeuvers as she vacuumed away. Mmmn, tasty, she thought, and so fulfilling to know he's truly satisfied. Mrs. Handson was of a giving nature when it came to men. While Homes zipped himself up and wiped the perspiration from his brow, Mrs. Handson did Dr. Whatsin next, with equally applied vigor. Dr. Whatsin moaned, cradling her gray haired head in both hands as she worked away. The two men heard her moan, quite audibly. "Mmmm mmm!" "I say, Whatsin, she sure does delight in her clean up duties, now doesn't she?" Dr. Whatsin, a glazed look on his face, merely nodded in agreement. Mrs. Handson, her clean up duties completed, fetched her knickers and got dressed. She turned toward Homes. "Gentlemen, I assume you'll not be needing supper sent in tonight seeing as how you're on a new case and all, but I'll make sure a light snack is left on your dining table for whenever you two scallawags decide to roll in." She smiled warmly at them and winked at Homes. "Mrs. Handson," Homes said. "You're most kind. That would be splendid." He turned to Dr. Whatsin. "Whatsin, let me fill you in on this Dr. Phallus matter, shall I?" Whatsin nodded as Mrs. Handson made her way to the door. Homes rushed to her. "Oh, Mrs. Handson, a word before you take your leave." She stopped, one hand on the doorknob. "I must say, old girl, you were quite remarkable tonight, quite remarkable. To think its only been three short weeks since I first taught you about the secret pleasures of sex. It's amazing how fast you've absorbed it all. You are, my dear, an apt pupil. "You fairly breezed through the finer points of general intercourse and, I have to say, have shown to be quite adept in the art of fellatio, including the most difficult aspects of the Chinese technique of deep throat swallowing. "Next time, my dear lady, I will guide you, step by step, and with Dr. Whatsin's keen assistance, in the complete understanding of the foolishly taboo cunnilingus, the fine art of vaginal licking. I assure you, madam, you will be astounded by the new intensity of your orgasms. Simply astounded! "Of course, we still have a long way to go. There's those rape and gangbang fantasies of yours yet to be explored. And, as you have mentioned on numerous occasions, your fascination with spankings and light bondage. Those dreams of yours, as you have told me. "Although I suspect you will balk at water sports at first, I will quickly take your mind off of it by fulfilling your exotic fantasy of coupling with a well-endowed male of the negroid race. I already have a fit prospect in mind." Homes reached into a desk drawer and extracted two items. "Here, my dear Mrs. Handson, these are for you. Part of your further education." She took the two items and inspected them. "The pamphlet is my latest monograph on masturbation. In it you will find an absorbing chapter on female self-pleasuring. I think you will find it both entertaining and enlightening. The other item is referred to as an arse-plug. Instructions for its use are on a separate sheet of paper which I have inserted in the back of the pamphlet." She flipped the pamphlet open and glanced at the loose sheet. "Uh huh, I see." she said. "The plug, my dear, is of the finest Morroccan leather and is an exact copy of the one I place into Whatsin's handy arse from time to time. He can tell you the joy it holds." She looked in the good doctor's direction. He was nodding his head vigorously. Homes went on. "The plug, by the by, is an exact replica of the one used by none other than the Marque DeSade himself. I've seen the papers on it. I had these two reproduced by that master leather craftsman, Guissepe Consiglio of Cremona, the greatest arse-plug constructionist in all of the world." Mrs. Handson looked truly impressed. As did Dr. Whatsin, who had yet to be apprised by Homes of the plug's splendid pedigree. "Any questions, my dear Mrs. Handson?" Homes said. "None that I can think of at the moment, Mr. Homes, but I would like to say something." The detective nodded. "I have to thank you, sir, you've taught me more in three weeks than my husband showed me in twenty five years of wedded bliss. He was a strait-laced sort, he was, bless his departed soul. You've opened my eyes, Mr. Homes, and all I want to tell you now is that I am eager to learn all you have to teach me. "Eager! Why, I had no idea just how much fun sex could be. So many things to do, too. Thanks you, Mr. Homes, for all you've shown me. And, in truth, I could never have imagined that one day I would just love the taste of male sperm as much as I do. Lordy, I can still taste the two of you now just by the mere act of swallowing my saliva. Land amighty!" She swallowed and then laughed. "You're welcome, Mrs. Handson." She made her departure. As she headed down the landing, Homes and Whatsin heard her sing, quite clearly, "Ooo eee, ooo ah ah, ting tang. Walla walla, bing bang . . . " That damnable song, thought Homes . . . * * * * * * DR. WATSON spoke first. "Homes, old boy, I noticed you used Vaseline on Mrs. Handson's arse. I thought you told me that KY Jelly was the superior of the two. Have you altered your position on the matter?" He looked at Homes. "No, Whatsin, no indeed, I'm merely keeping Mrs. Handson at the, ahem, beginner's level, so to speak, until she no longer truly fears anal intercourse. Shock treatment, if you will. Toughen her anus muscles up so they react as I know they can react. It's a new anus preparation theory of mine. Then, when anal is as natural to her as breathing, voila! I will introduce the KY Jelly to her previously tender rectum. "You saw how she still exhibited a telltale nervousness tonight whenever I bottomed out in her." Whatsin nodded, bottomed out, indeed, he thought. "Well, old man, she's still in the training stages!" "Whatsin nodded again. He had no argument to offer. It all made sense to him, however odd it still sounded. "Now, Whatsin, to the problem at hand, Dr. Phallus. He is a beast, Whatsin, a beast. He kidnaps young, beautiful women and secretes them away, to lord knows where, and uses them to feed his sick, sexual appetite. But alas, so far, Scotland Yard has not been able to get the goods on him. The man is far too clever for them, his methods far too brilliant. "To date, eleven young girls have gone missing and it is believed he has his dirty hands on all of them. Doing who knows what with them, the fiend. Well, Whatsin, the police may be fettered by the niceties of legal protocol, but you and I, old chum, can work well outside the rules when we have to. Eh?" Whatsin nodded, a smile on his face. He knew Homes had already formed a plan. "I've already formed a plan, Whatsin, a good one, but one that will require your services." "Count on me, Homes!" "I knew you would be on board, old friend. Now, here's my plan. While the police use the technique of running here and there, gathering so- called evidence, we, old friend, are going to take a more direct approach. We're going to bring Dr. Phallus to us, through a new ploy of mine. I call it decoying." Dr. Whatsin looked quizzical. The term was new to him. "We will see to it that the next woman he kidnaps is, if you will, a piece of bait. The decoy." Dr. Whatsin was up to speed. He nodded his total understanding. "The woman will have, hidden well on her person, a small transmitter. This will be utilized to lead us directly to the location the fiend first takes her to. An arrest will soon follow and, if the doctor himself doesn't give us the locations of the other women, I'm sure one of his henchmen will, given an opportunity to save his scrawny neck from the hanging gallows. Eh?" "Homes, it's excellent! Use bait to catch a rat. Quite clever and, I dare say, quite foolproof, too." Dr. Whatsin grinned at the great detective. "Unfortunately, Whatsin, foolproof it is not. Not really. You see, from reading a smug and egotistical treatise Dr. Phallus wrote while in graduate school, its subject the art of kidnapping a sex slave, I learned that he performs an initial test on the woman, right there where she is first accosted. Anal intercourse. "If she screams, he abandons his plan. It appears that the doctor has an aversion to feminine screaming, probably stemming from some trauma in his upbringing. Or he could use it as an omen or a bad luck sign. Whatever the reason, if she screams, even a small eek, he flees the scene." "Where does that leave us, Homes? Surely we can find some Fleet Street harlot who can hold her tongue in a pinch for a nice price." "Yes, no doubt we could, but I ask you, would she also be willing to play-act the dangerous part of being the, uh, bait?" He tilted his head to one side and looked at the good doctor. "I see, Homes. That would be expecting too much from any woman, even a harlot type. But knowing you, Homes, I expect you've solved the problem. Eh?" Homes smiled. "That's where you come in, Whatsin." "I don't follow you, Homes. I don't know of any woman who . . . " "Elementary, my dear Whatsin. You play the bait!" "Really, Homes, you can't be serious. I'm a man, for heaven's sake! Why would Dr. Phallus ever . . . " "Whatsin, you know how well I am at disguises, don't you? Well, believe me, I can make you up as a woman so convincingly, you would have dozens of erections on your tail just by walking down the street." Dr. Whatsin knew full well that if anyone could do this seemingly impossible task, Homes could. "But, Homes, what about Dr. Phallus' anal test? I'd scream bloody murder, I can tell you!" He crossed his arms in front of himself as if in defiance. But deep down he knew that Homes had it all figured out and before you could say, Bob's your uncle, he'd have the evil doctor's penis up his old arse. While he didn't exactly relish the idea, he knew he couldn't let Homes down. The man was counting on him to do his part. "KY Jelly, old fellow, a quick lesson in self-hypnosis and a practice run should be all it takes to make you the belle of the anal ball." Homes chuckled. "Now, Whatsin, shall we get started?" Dr. Whatsin nodded meekly. In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought. An hour later, Whatsin, freshly shaved and dressed completely as a woman, complete with an ash blond wig, stood before the great detective. A short while more and the good doctor had make up on that looked as it it had been applied by an expert in the theatre. Homes looked pleased. "My God, man!" Homes said. "I never realized how beautiful you could get. The transformation is unbelievable. Here, Whatsin, look in this mirror." He handed a small hand mirror to Dr. Whatsin. Whatsin looked and he, too, could not believe his eyes. The creature that now stared back at him was truly a woman. Sensual and lovely. With lips that looked as if they were made for kissing, or for sucking. The doctor turned to Homes. "You've outdone yourself, Homes, I must say." Homes nodded. "Now, Whatsin, here comes the tough part. The test. If you would be so kind as to lift your skirt, as you saw Mrs. Handson do, relieve yourself of your knickers and bend over the arm of the sofa, we can proceed to the next step." Dr. Whatsin winced, but quietly obeyed. A moment later found him folded across the sofa's plush arm with his buttocks in the air. He felt quite exposed in this unfamiliar position. "Be gentle, Homes, will you?" Homes didn't answer. He opened the lube and applied a generous amount to the poor doctor's bum, inserting a finger as he did so. Dr. Whatsin groaned. "Buck up, Whatsin! I haven't begun yet!" Whatsin nodded from his odd position. "Sorry, Homes." Then Dr. Whatsin remembered the hypnosis part. He had yet to be hypnotized. "Homes, what about the hyp . . . " Too late. Homes' penis was already in his anus, past the sphincter and pushing forward. Then forward some more. And some more. All 4" was soon reached. And Dr. Whatsin had yet voiced even the mildest of screams. Which surprised him. He felt Homes' hands on his waist. "I say, Homes, that hardly hurt at all. Feels quite nice as a matter of fact. It's as if . . . " "Hush, Whatsin, you're interrupting my concentration, which is on your buttocks at the moment. I can't believe how girlish and feminine your arse looks to me. So round and soft looking." He started a pumping in and out action. "So luscious. So inviting. My God, man, we must do this more often!" Homes sounded gleeful to the dear doctor, who was now getting into the moment himself. "Oh, Homes, that feels wonderful. So fantastic! Keep doing that, yes, like that. Oh, sweet lord, how nice." He started moaning with each Homesian stroke. "Mmmm . . . mmmm . . . mmmm . . . " Then he lost it completely. "Fuck me, Homes, fuck me! Give it to me, big poppa! Fuck my arse like crazy, you wild cowboy! Slip the juice to me, Bruce! Ooo eee, ooo ah ah, ting tang. Walla walla, bing bang! Ooo eee, ooo ah ah, ting tang, Walla walla, bing bang" Dr. Whatsin now knew why Mrs. Handson loved that song so much. When sung, it had the same rhythmic beat as arse fucking. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. Homes sang, too, the beat of the silly song echoing in his head, matching his in and out strokes. They now sang together: "Ooo eee, ooo ah ah, ting tang. Walla walla, bing bang! Ooo eee, ooo ah ah, ting tang, Walla walla, bing bang!" Finally, Homes pushed into Dr. Whatsin's rectum as far as he could, squeezed the man's waist tightly, and then stood stock still. He was releasing his seed into the good doctor's inner depths. "Ooooooweeee, Whatsin, here I come, ready or not!" He moaned as he unloaded. Dr. Whatsin moaned in pleasure as he wiggled his ass against Homes' groin, feeling the roughness of the man's trousers. Homes' deerslayer cap fell from his head and landed on Dr. Whatsin's back. It was only then that the good doctor realized that Homes was still fully dressed for a severe winter. And he didn't care, either. When they had finally uncoupled and Dr. Whatsin had his knickers back in their proper place, the great detective poured them both a stiff brandy. It was then that the good doctor noticed that Homes hadn't used the KY Jelly, but had used jar Vaseline. That Homes, he thought, still proving his anal toughening up theory! They enjoyed their brandy and discussed the need for another go at anal intercourse before sending the good doctor out as bait. They agreed another round couldn't hurt. Thus, they did it again, but this time with more loving passion thrown in consisting of a few mouth kisses, just in case Dr. Phallus was a stickler for feminine detail. This time, Homes used the KY Jelly. A test between the two lubricants. After this go round, Homes spoke first. "You'll find, old man, that if you wear your arse-plug more frequently, the pain will be even less. But, I think you can now attest, Whatsin, that it's elementary: When it comes to arse buggering, KY jelly is vastly superior to jar Vaseline! You can read my monograph on the subject later, if you wish, but for now, old crumpet, the game's afoot!" He headed toward the door. Dr. Whatsin, his rectum still burning whit, stood up and joined Homes at the door. As he did, he said, "I think you're right, as usual, Homes. It hurts less than the first time." He rubbed his old bum once through his dress and they were off. The game, as Homes had put it, was now afoot . . . The End.