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.