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From: "Yotna El'toub" <yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Strange Case of the Missing Madonna  [Yotna El'toub] Chapter seven.
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Date: Mon, 22 May 2006 17:10:03 -0400
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{ASSM}  The Strange Case of the Missing Madonna ~ A Holmes &
   Hove adventure Chapter seven of several) [Yotna El'toub]
      (FF+,MM,MC,NC,magic. Caution: blasphemous)

****************************************************************
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.
________________________________________________________________

***AUTHOR'S NOTE*** Due to the subject matter this Holmes and
Hove adventure will contain not only sex, but blasphemous
content. I have no desire to upset people or their deeply held
belief's, so if this is likely to upset you; stop reading *NOW*.
If you continue to read despite my warning my conscience is
clear, as *YOU* have made a free choice.
________________________________________________________________



Mary sighed, her breath warming Clarice's open quim; the former
housekeeper relished the rewards of power. True, she serviced
Clarice like a paid whore, but others, her underlings - worshiped
her a similar way. Soft lips closed around the tip of each of her
ample breasts, and a most delightful nibbling brought her nubbin
close to spending. She even celebrated the writhing tongue that
probed her trembling buttocks, darting insistently across her
darkened rosebud.

Dashwood gazed on, his bulbous eyes drinking the debauched scene
with very apparent relish. Carelessly he drove his pego into the
wet mouth that worshiped him. William was less comfortable, but
still happy to be of service to his master. He gagged as the hot
seed poured down his throat, he disliked the salty taste, but the
other taste compensated. Reverend Pearson had discovered just how
much he enjoyed the flavour of power. He even managed to smile as
Albert withdrew his now flaccid organ from between his bruised,
slimy lips.

"Now, sweet William, we should prepare for our guest's arrival,
your detective should be with us soon." Dashwood cooed.

"Yes, Holmes and his partner should be with us by now, perhaps
they are waiting for the morrow?"

"Partner? Why have you said nothing of this previously! It is the
detective the illuminati desire, not his hangers-on."

"I apologise most humbly master. I did not realise." William
grovelled.

"Never mind, we just need a diversion - tell me does this
'partner' seem an honourable fellow?"

"Yes, I would say so - he seemed very gentlemanly when attending
to me." Pearson answered.

"Excellent," Dashwood cackled, "then we shall provide him with a
damsel in distress, Mary should play the part well. But you must
too, do you understand dear boy?"

"No, what are you suggesting? Nothing unsavoury I trust." William
frowned.

"Unsavoury!" Albert guffawed his derision, "not compared to what
you have already undertaken. You just have to strike her -hard,
she will do the rest. I shall brief her."

"Strike Mary! Sir, I object - I am no woman beater."

Dashwood grabbed Pearson by the throat, he drew him close -until
their noses almost touched. He gazed his contempt into the vicars
shocked orbits.

"You, William will do as you are told. No more, and certainly no
less. Do not dare to fail me!"

"No, master. I understand master..." William coughed.

Dashwood threw Pearson to the floor violently.

"With power comes responsibility sweet William. You would do well
to remember that."

William said no more, he just nodded his submission.


              -------------------------


The night wore on, and a disgruntled individual slowly extricated
his body from its trap. In total darkness he stumbled on,
splashing water in his blind wake. His unprotected hands clawed
their way along the walls, at last he found an opening. Shivering
he drew his body from the water and onto the gritty bank. There
his sore right hand struck something metallic - a lamp! Urgently
he rummaged in his pockets for his tinder box, he just prayed it
was dry. A second later a warm yellow light burst forth -
temporarily he was blinded.

His tired eyes slowly focussed, the first thing he saw was the
empty plinth, and then another lamp laying on the caves floor.
Events started to come back to him, in desperation he swung
around, almost falling. Clumsily he staggered into the inner
temple - the icon was gone!

"No!" Ripped from his parched lips.

He had to get to the surface soon, find the icon and rectify this
mess. Just then the lamp spluttered, and darkness returned.
Cursing his luck the large man groped his way back to the other
lamp, soon it was lit. He stared down unbelieveingly at the damp
oily patch soaking into the cave floor. He shook the lamp in his
hand, nothing - it too was almost empty.

"Damn this country and its feeble-minded inhabitants!" He
screamed to the glistening walls. His rage echoed and returned to
him, a mockery of his original outburst. Urgently he started back
towards the entrance, fifty yards later the lamp was hurled aside
as it too became useless. He crawled on regardless, ignoring the
cobs of flesh that were torn from him by unseen outcrops.

Pain and frustration almost defeated him, but his purpose drove
him on. He had given it all up for this, his home, his love, his
life. All was expendable in his need for, thirst for - more
power. Delirium took his mind back through the years, back to his
small farrier's shop in Bavaria. Above the door hung his old name
'Hans Bueller', once more he could hear his wife's voice call him
to his tea. He walked into the cosy kitchen, and gazed down
lovingly at the small boy. Franz returned his warm smile.

Tears flowed from Hans's eyes, but with a supreme effort of will
he pushed the past away. Back to where it belonged. It was too
late, all had been forsaken, and all was gone. Long gone. At last
he fell through the entrance to the caves. Although dawn had just
arrived hailing the coming day, the exhausted, broken man
collapsed - into a deep, restorative sleep.


              -------------------------


Hove whistled merrily as he walked along the country track.

"Glad to see you in such good form this morning Brighton, I
feared for your health last night." Holmes said cheerily.

"Takes more then some damnable Hun to bring me down Holmes, my
old chap."

"I wish I had your outlook on life Hove, my take is somewhat
darker."

"Now do not get maudlin again, we have nearly cracked this case."
Hove smiled.

"Ha! There you go once more, the eternal optimist." Holmes
quipped, "Still I must say it is a splendid day."

The friends walked on a few hundred yards in merry conversation,
before things took a very odd turn. A wild man stepped out in
front of them, he brandished a broken branch -which he thrust at
them with gusto. He growled and grunted incoherently for several
seconds before beginning what became a tirade of abuse.

"Now I have yea! Not so clever now are you, you damnable
heretics. I may be but an old man with a staff, but David slew
Goliath did he not! I may die in the process, but I shall take
one of yea devils to hell with me, I'll venture!" He snarled,
"Devil got your tongues - come now demons say something!"

"I'm sorry sir have we by chance trespassed on your land. If you
would forgive us, we are not locals." Holmes replied calmly,
without ever taking his eyes off the pointed end of the wavering
staff.

"I know you are not locals, I am no fool. You were here for the
Sabbath in the church. You carry the signs sir, the gloves you
wear and that package you carry with such care."

"Sabbath at the church! Hove I fear we may be too late..." Holmes
quietened, as the pointed staff dug into his chest.

"Back, back you devil. Yea do not fool Thomas!"

Hove strode forward and grasped the staff, with a hard, sudden
twist he ripped it from the elderly mans grasp.

"That sir is enough! Kindly threaten us no more." Brighton
barked.

The outraged man now did a very odd thing, he fell to his knees
in tears. "Forgive me Mary, yet again I have failed both you and
the lord. Do as yea will demons, life holds no thrall for me any
more."

Holmes bent forward and gripped the distressed man by his upper
arm. Gently he helped him to his feet. "Please Thomas, calm
yourself, Hove and I will do you no harm. Whom, by the by, is
Mary, pray tell?"

"Mary, my poor lost wife, was the housekeeper to Reverend
Pearson." Thomas trembled, too afeared was he to lie.

"Reverend Pearson, Thomas - we are in his employ, to stop this
dastardly undertaking."

"To stop it? I thought he was central to it?" Thomas asked, slack
jawed.

"No, he knows of the disgrace it could bring. He has asked us to
recover the icon." Hove replied.

"Icon? Yes, yes I saw that - but you have it sir. In the cloth."
Thomas added pointing to Holmes.

"This is but a copy, but you say the icon was at the church last
night?"

"Aye, at that awful ceremony."

"Listen Thomas we will lay all of this to rest, but we need your
help." Holmes said.

"Help, why should I help? You could be demons."

"We could, as you say, be demons. But ask yourself a question if
that is the case."

"What question?" Asked Thomas bleakly.

"Why are you still alive?" Asked Holmes.

Thomas blinked.

"How may I assist sir?" He asked.

Holmes smiled, "Good man, follow us."

The mismatched trio walked on towards the vicarage, Thomas
pausing occasionally to point out the way.


              -------------------------


His eyes opened and stared angrily at the sun high above him. He
had much to do, Hans went to get up - every fibre and sinew in
his abused body protested. Groaning he slowly straightened his
back, then he reached into the deep pocket of his cape to find
the maps. But he drew his hand away, wincing in pain. He looked
down at his ragged hands, he cursed the Englishmen with
vehemence.

Carefully extracting his map Hans orientated himself and headed
of steadily, if uncomfortably, to the south. As he walked the
mulled over the plans, by now the Reverend would have held the
first Sabbath as he had directed Dashwood. They were close to the
pinnacle, soon the membership would swell and the illuminati's
power would filter into each level of government. They were so
close, but these meddlesome investigators now had the evidence
they needed.

Hans clenched his teeth and ground one ruined hand into the palm
of the other, he needed the pain - to drive him on. As he pounded
his fist, he would pound the interlopers into dust. Then and only
then would he get the recognition he deserved, and the power -
the power to rule this despicable island. Then they would pay,
they would all pay!


              -------------------------


Holmes and Hove approached the door to the manse.

"Be wary my friend, things may not be all they seem." Holmes
warned.

Brighton nodded sagely. He then rapped the door knocker with some
force. A few seconds passed before the door was opened by a young
woman.

"Welcome gentlemen, is the Reverend expecting you?" She asked
politely.

"Most certainly, he contacted us and asked us to arrive as
quickly as we could. My card, miss."

"Mr Holmes, yes my master is expecting you, please come in."

Holmes walked beside Hove, in the way he had, he noticed that his
young partner was smitten with the housekeeper. He whispered to
his friend "Old boy, I do believe that is Thomas's spouse."

"Indeed Holmes, and why should that concern me?" Brighton said,
innocently.

"No reason." Holmes replied, smiling inwardly.

"May I present Mr Holmes & Mr Hove from London, Reverend." Mary
said.

"Thank you Mary, could you clear away the breakfast tray please."

Mary crossed the room and picked up the tray, unfortunately her
grip was not secure - the contents fell spreading rapidly across
the Reverends previously tidy desk. Pearson rose, his face dark
with embarrassment and anger, he took one step and swiped his
hand viciously across Mary's face. The girl reeled backwards from
the force of the physical rebuke. Hove dashed forward to rescue
the tearful girl.

"Sir, you are a cad! That was clearly and accident. What sort of
minister strikes a young woman thus."

"The girl is clumsy sir, I lose my patience with her. I will
thank you not to question the way I correct my staff."

Hove went to reply, but was corrected by a sideward glance from
Holmes. Mary slumped in Brighton's arms.

"I think I have a touch of the vapours." She groaned.

"And it is no wonder if you ask me. Where is your room? I will
take you to recover." Hove enquired, his eyes full of kindness.

"On the second floor, as long as my master permits.." She
answered.

William's waved dismissively.

"Take her, she is of no use to me." Then he reached up and pulled
on a bell cord.

Hove collected Mary in his arms, and walked with her to the door,
he paused and glared briefly at the Reverend. His opinion of the
cleric was writ deeply in the frown on his face. Skilfully he
manoeuvred his way into the hall, ignoring the kitchen maid who
passed him hurrying on her way to the Reverend's study.

He walked to the stairs and swiftly scaled the way to the second
floor, limply Mary indicated the third door on the left. He
opened the door with his elbow, and swept into the room. On the
bed before him a Sapphic orgy was in full motion. In a single
movement Mary slipped from his arms and joined her sinful sisters
on the bed.

"What the devil..."

Hove's words were cut off by Dashwood's gloved hand clamping over
his mouth and nose.


              -------------------------


To be continued...



____________________________________________________________


Foot Notes (C) Yotna El'toub May 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.

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