Erebus
04-27-2005, 6:32 AM
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MAID IN HEAVEN
© Dark Rider 1999
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PART TWO
From somewhere near came a sudden smash of glass. Emmy caught her breath and jumped. Edward’s head jerked out from between her buttocks and he gasped furiously. Emmy shifted forward and rolled off him. Her eyes narrowed and she listened hard. Nothing. And yet that noise…
She leant forward and blew at the candle, plunging the room into darkness. Behind her, Edward continued to heave and groan. She stretched out one arm and clamped her hand across his mouth. He immediately reacted, squirming beneath her as she rolled backwards onto his chest.
‘Shush, Master Edward!’ she breathed harshly. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. Not now.’
His body twitched nervously. She could tell from the way he shook between her thighs that he had little confidence in anything she said.
‘I heard a sound,’ she whispered. He seemed to quieten. Emmy removed her hand slowly and rolled off him for the second time.
Edward raised his head. His face felt as if it had been dipped in warm oil and he shivered sharply. ‘What – what sort of sound?’ he asked, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and drawing off a dribble of the girl’s juices.
‘I think we have a burglar, sir!’
‘No!’ The young man shivered again. He was no hero. If there were intruders in the house it was a job for the police, not for him. ‘We must summon help!’ he told her. ‘The constables must be called!’
In the darkness, he felt Emmy snuggle up against him. ‘Hush, sir,’ she whispered. ‘There’s no need for us to panic. If we sound the alarm, he’ll be off like a shot.’
The thought that the intruder might run like a rabbit was not a drawback in Edward’s opinion. Emmy’s hand closed around his wrist and squeezed. He felt the swell of her breast graze his left cheek and he shuddered happily.
‘No time for that now, sir!’ giggled Emmy, as he pressed his mouth to her neck.
‘At least let me put my trousers back on,’ pleaded Edward, groping in the dark.
‘No time for that, sir!’ squealed Emmy. ‘Just bring your belt so we have something to tie him up with.’
‘Emmy!’ he protested.
‘Hurry, sir!’ she whispered back. ‘We mustn’t let him get away!’
‘Dammit, no!’ argued Edward as she took him firmly by the hand and dragged him off the bed. ‘Emmy, this could be dangerous!’
‘For him, maybe!’ giggled the young maid, leading her Master to the door.
Another, more important thought struck him rather late. ‘Emmy!’ he hissed. ‘You can’t go down like this! You’re naked!’
She chuckled softly. ‘I know, Master Edward. I know!’ She peered out into the hallway. ‘Not a sound now, sir,’ she hushed him. ‘Not a sound…’
They crept along the corridor until they reached the landing stairs, then tiptoed down towards the drawing room. Emmy pressed her head up against the door and listened carefully. She squeezed Edward’s hand and he had to fight the urge to yelp.
‘There’s someone in there!’ Emmy whispered, her breath warm and sweet against his face.
‘Then we must call the police! It’s they who tackle villains!’ Edward reminded her.
‘Phooey!’ retorted the young girl. ‘By the time they get here he’ll be long gone.’
Her fingers closed around the door handle. Edward’s eyes blazed. ‘What are you doing, Emmy? No!’
But it was too late. In a flash, she swung the door open and charged in. A reluctant Edward followed her, his stomach tight with fear. The French windows were ajar, a sickly wash of yellow moonbeam lighting up a distant corner of the room. A man was kneeling by the safe, his head pressed to the lock, his fingers turning slowly.
He leapt up straightaway, grabbed a heavy worsted sack and ran for the exit. Emmy flew across his path, dived low and brought him tumbling to the carpet. His head struck the edge of the hearth and he went suddenly very still. Emmy was up and on him in a flash, straddling his stomach, her powerful legs pinning his arms to his sides.
Edward lit a small gas-lamp. He struck two matches and soon a dozen candles illuminated the room.
One look at the safe was enough to stir him. ‘The villain!’ he yelled, pulling open the door and checking all the contents. He rocked back on his bare legs and sighed with relief. ‘A thousand pounds in bonds, and another two in ready money,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Another minute, Emmy and the scoundrel would have fled with everything!’
‘Didn’t I say so, sir? I told you what we had to do. We had to take the man between us before he got away.’
Edward stood over her, a candelabra raised high in his hand. A spread of light lit up the burglar’s face. He was a young man, hardly more than 21, 22, clean-shaven, but with a scar running down his right-hand cheek. A trickle of blood dribbled from a small cut on his forehead; evidently where he had caught himself when he fell. Though it had knocked him clean out, he was beginning to stir.
‘Quickly, sir!’ said Emmy, taking charge. ‘Use your belt to tie his feet. I have his arms, so between us he won’t be going anywhere.
Edward’s eyes narrowed. ‘Wait a bit, Emmy,’ he said, leaning down for a closer look. ‘I know this fellow. His name is…’ He furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. ‘Donald Bridge! My God!’
Emmy frowned. The name meant nothing to her. ‘Who’s Donald Bridge?’ she asked. ‘Apart from being a useless burglar!’ She giggled and bounced on his chest. The rough edges of his jacket rubbed against her pussy and she squealed wickedly.
‘He’s not just a burglar, my sweet,’ declared Edward. ‘This man is wanted for murder!’
Emmy flinched. ‘He don’t look like a murderer,’ she remarked, squinting at his face. His head was beginning to roll from side to side and his lips were trembling.
‘He’s coming round!’ said Edward. ‘Quickly, Emmy, we must secure him further!
They dragged their prisoner upright and led him across the room. Edward untied two curtain fasteners and used them to bind his arms to the back of a tall Queen Anne chair. They stood and watched him for a few minutes and finally his heavy eyelids flickered open.
‘What the –?’ He came round with a jolt and pulled against his restraints. Then he caught sight of his captors for the first time and his eyes grew wider still. A man without trousers and a woman without – ye Gods, a woman without anything at all on! – gazed at him curiously.
‘Where am I?’ he asked, with a bewildered shake of his head.
Edward snorted. ‘You know full well where you are, sir. Forty Seven Belgrave Square. The home of Lord and Lady Cotton who, as I am sure you also know, are gone to the country for the month. Leaving the house conveniently empty – or so you believed.’
The man continued to feign an air of innocence. ‘I remember now,’ he began cautiously. ‘There was a fellow. An ugly looking chap. I saw him enter and followed, sir, for I believed him to be up to no good. I tackled him and he ran. And that was when you found me. You thought ME to be the villain, sir, an easy mistake to make.’
Edward shook his head sadly. ‘You are fooling no one, Donald Bridge!’
At the mention of his name, the prisoner froze. Edward smiled triumphantly. ‘Your goose is well and truly cooked!’ he told the man. ‘You are wanted for murder, sir, and after tonight’s little escapade will hang for sure.’
The man’s eyes flitted from Edward to Emmy and back again. His mind, it seemed, was working overtime. Finally, he said, ‘If I go down, then others will go with me.’
Now it was Edward’s turn to look puzzled. ‘What do you mean by that, sir?’ he asked.
‘I mean, sir,’ and he emphasised the word ‘sir’ with barely disguised contempt, ‘that if the house should be deserted, what have you and the strumpet been up to, that’s what some would like to know.’
Edward’s skin went cold. The man was right. If his parents were to learn of this – heaven forbid! He would be disowned for sure, cast him out without a penny to his name. He licked the edges of his mouth. Damn the man! What was he to do?
Beside him, Emmy stirred. ‘Do you have thruppence, sir?’ she asked.
Edward looked bewildered. ‘Thruppence?’ he repeated stupidly. ‘Why should you need thruppence, Emmy?’
She stared up at him. Her large breasts quivered softly. ‘You must trust me, sir. I have a plan.’
He looked uncertain for a moment, then crossed the bureau, pulled open a drawer and extracted three coins.
‘Watch over him carefully, sir,’ said Emmy, taking the coins and moving to the door. ‘I won’t be long.’
MAID IN HEAVEN
© Dark Rider 1999
_________________
PART TWO
From somewhere near came a sudden smash of glass. Emmy caught her breath and jumped. Edward’s head jerked out from between her buttocks and he gasped furiously. Emmy shifted forward and rolled off him. Her eyes narrowed and she listened hard. Nothing. And yet that noise…
She leant forward and blew at the candle, plunging the room into darkness. Behind her, Edward continued to heave and groan. She stretched out one arm and clamped her hand across his mouth. He immediately reacted, squirming beneath her as she rolled backwards onto his chest.
‘Shush, Master Edward!’ she breathed harshly. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. Not now.’
His body twitched nervously. She could tell from the way he shook between her thighs that he had little confidence in anything she said.
‘I heard a sound,’ she whispered. He seemed to quieten. Emmy removed her hand slowly and rolled off him for the second time.
Edward raised his head. His face felt as if it had been dipped in warm oil and he shivered sharply. ‘What – what sort of sound?’ he asked, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and drawing off a dribble of the girl’s juices.
‘I think we have a burglar, sir!’
‘No!’ The young man shivered again. He was no hero. If there were intruders in the house it was a job for the police, not for him. ‘We must summon help!’ he told her. ‘The constables must be called!’
In the darkness, he felt Emmy snuggle up against him. ‘Hush, sir,’ she whispered. ‘There’s no need for us to panic. If we sound the alarm, he’ll be off like a shot.’
The thought that the intruder might run like a rabbit was not a drawback in Edward’s opinion. Emmy’s hand closed around his wrist and squeezed. He felt the swell of her breast graze his left cheek and he shuddered happily.
‘No time for that now, sir!’ giggled Emmy, as he pressed his mouth to her neck.
‘At least let me put my trousers back on,’ pleaded Edward, groping in the dark.
‘No time for that, sir!’ squealed Emmy. ‘Just bring your belt so we have something to tie him up with.’
‘Emmy!’ he protested.
‘Hurry, sir!’ she whispered back. ‘We mustn’t let him get away!’
‘Dammit, no!’ argued Edward as she took him firmly by the hand and dragged him off the bed. ‘Emmy, this could be dangerous!’
‘For him, maybe!’ giggled the young maid, leading her Master to the door.
Another, more important thought struck him rather late. ‘Emmy!’ he hissed. ‘You can’t go down like this! You’re naked!’
She chuckled softly. ‘I know, Master Edward. I know!’ She peered out into the hallway. ‘Not a sound now, sir,’ she hushed him. ‘Not a sound…’
They crept along the corridor until they reached the landing stairs, then tiptoed down towards the drawing room. Emmy pressed her head up against the door and listened carefully. She squeezed Edward’s hand and he had to fight the urge to yelp.
‘There’s someone in there!’ Emmy whispered, her breath warm and sweet against his face.
‘Then we must call the police! It’s they who tackle villains!’ Edward reminded her.
‘Phooey!’ retorted the young girl. ‘By the time they get here he’ll be long gone.’
Her fingers closed around the door handle. Edward’s eyes blazed. ‘What are you doing, Emmy? No!’
But it was too late. In a flash, she swung the door open and charged in. A reluctant Edward followed her, his stomach tight with fear. The French windows were ajar, a sickly wash of yellow moonbeam lighting up a distant corner of the room. A man was kneeling by the safe, his head pressed to the lock, his fingers turning slowly.
He leapt up straightaway, grabbed a heavy worsted sack and ran for the exit. Emmy flew across his path, dived low and brought him tumbling to the carpet. His head struck the edge of the hearth and he went suddenly very still. Emmy was up and on him in a flash, straddling his stomach, her powerful legs pinning his arms to his sides.
Edward lit a small gas-lamp. He struck two matches and soon a dozen candles illuminated the room.
One look at the safe was enough to stir him. ‘The villain!’ he yelled, pulling open the door and checking all the contents. He rocked back on his bare legs and sighed with relief. ‘A thousand pounds in bonds, and another two in ready money,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Another minute, Emmy and the scoundrel would have fled with everything!’
‘Didn’t I say so, sir? I told you what we had to do. We had to take the man between us before he got away.’
Edward stood over her, a candelabra raised high in his hand. A spread of light lit up the burglar’s face. He was a young man, hardly more than 21, 22, clean-shaven, but with a scar running down his right-hand cheek. A trickle of blood dribbled from a small cut on his forehead; evidently where he had caught himself when he fell. Though it had knocked him clean out, he was beginning to stir.
‘Quickly, sir!’ said Emmy, taking charge. ‘Use your belt to tie his feet. I have his arms, so between us he won’t be going anywhere.
Edward’s eyes narrowed. ‘Wait a bit, Emmy,’ he said, leaning down for a closer look. ‘I know this fellow. His name is…’ He furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. ‘Donald Bridge! My God!’
Emmy frowned. The name meant nothing to her. ‘Who’s Donald Bridge?’ she asked. ‘Apart from being a useless burglar!’ She giggled and bounced on his chest. The rough edges of his jacket rubbed against her pussy and she squealed wickedly.
‘He’s not just a burglar, my sweet,’ declared Edward. ‘This man is wanted for murder!’
Emmy flinched. ‘He don’t look like a murderer,’ she remarked, squinting at his face. His head was beginning to roll from side to side and his lips were trembling.
‘He’s coming round!’ said Edward. ‘Quickly, Emmy, we must secure him further!
They dragged their prisoner upright and led him across the room. Edward untied two curtain fasteners and used them to bind his arms to the back of a tall Queen Anne chair. They stood and watched him for a few minutes and finally his heavy eyelids flickered open.
‘What the –?’ He came round with a jolt and pulled against his restraints. Then he caught sight of his captors for the first time and his eyes grew wider still. A man without trousers and a woman without – ye Gods, a woman without anything at all on! – gazed at him curiously.
‘Where am I?’ he asked, with a bewildered shake of his head.
Edward snorted. ‘You know full well where you are, sir. Forty Seven Belgrave Square. The home of Lord and Lady Cotton who, as I am sure you also know, are gone to the country for the month. Leaving the house conveniently empty – or so you believed.’
The man continued to feign an air of innocence. ‘I remember now,’ he began cautiously. ‘There was a fellow. An ugly looking chap. I saw him enter and followed, sir, for I believed him to be up to no good. I tackled him and he ran. And that was when you found me. You thought ME to be the villain, sir, an easy mistake to make.’
Edward shook his head sadly. ‘You are fooling no one, Donald Bridge!’
At the mention of his name, the prisoner froze. Edward smiled triumphantly. ‘Your goose is well and truly cooked!’ he told the man. ‘You are wanted for murder, sir, and after tonight’s little escapade will hang for sure.’
The man’s eyes flitted from Edward to Emmy and back again. His mind, it seemed, was working overtime. Finally, he said, ‘If I go down, then others will go with me.’
Now it was Edward’s turn to look puzzled. ‘What do you mean by that, sir?’ he asked.
‘I mean, sir,’ and he emphasised the word ‘sir’ with barely disguised contempt, ‘that if the house should be deserted, what have you and the strumpet been up to, that’s what some would like to know.’
Edward’s skin went cold. The man was right. If his parents were to learn of this – heaven forbid! He would be disowned for sure, cast him out without a penny to his name. He licked the edges of his mouth. Damn the man! What was he to do?
Beside him, Emmy stirred. ‘Do you have thruppence, sir?’ she asked.
Edward looked bewildered. ‘Thruppence?’ he repeated stupidly. ‘Why should you need thruppence, Emmy?’
She stared up at him. Her large breasts quivered softly. ‘You must trust me, sir. I have a plan.’
He looked uncertain for a moment, then crossed the bureau, pulled open a drawer and extracted three coins.
‘Watch over him carefully, sir,’ said Emmy, taking the coins and moving to the door. ‘I won’t be long.’