Wooster Ties the Knot

by HAL

Caution: This contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Humor, .

Desc: : A pastiche of Jeeves and Wooster stories. I can't hope to be as funny as Wodehouse, but I hope you enjoy it.

Penelope Bothroyd-Harrington and the Honourable Melissa Domingo were up to their old tricks again. Dash it! They were playing fast and loose with the affections of my chum Binky – Basil Binkton, Lord Chuffnorton to give his proper title. I was at school with Binky, he went to the other university so I saw less of him then but we renewed the old bonds of friendship when we both found ourselves washed up on the shores of the jolly old colony.

In New York one soon found it worthwhile to keep a couple of old Etonians in your back pocket to bail you out what? New York police – I believe it fashionable to call them cops – have less of a sense of humour than the happy London bobby. Many’s the time a jape in London has passed off with a “now then sir” or a “time to go home sir”; but in the city we found ourselves ensconced for a session; the boys in blue tended to say “I have a gun on you, you piece of sh-” yes well we needn’t dwell on it. Suffice to say Binky and I formed a mutual scrape escape society to great effect.

Not for the first time I wished Jeeves had accompanied me. When I announced the trip he reminded me that his annual two weeks in Tenby with his aging aunt would fall in the middle of the proposed sojourn “Can’t you delay it Jeeves?”

“I fear not sir, she does so look forward to my visit. I did inform you fully six months ago of the date” Well, I mean how is one to remember the butler’s bally time orf? I have a butler to remind me of appointments afterall. I thought of pointing this out but before I could open the crimson gargle hole to give this clever riposte he added “It is on the calendar sir, and I did remind you last week” Wooster ‘0’, Jeeves ‘1’ I fear. I can’t understand the attraction of aging aunts, that was the reason for my debunking to Amerigo Vespucci’s wonderland after all – dashed pleased it hadn’t been named Vespucci-land eh? Aunt Agatha was suggesting I escort her poisonous godson Archie and his sister around town. Well I discovered a reason to be in America pretty quick I can tell you! But sans Jeeves ya see? So I gave Jeeves the summer and headed alone to the wide blue yonder. I found Aunt A had followed me out! Like a terrier after a badger that aunt, well, we slipped the old girl by jumping back on the ship she arrived on and telling all that we were heading to Chicago – a town somewhere west I understand. Pretty smart!

Now these two sirens were playing with my friend’s emotions in that way that pulchritudinous fillies find so amusing. They did it to yours truly only a few months past; generally dressing in diaphanous flowery creations and what not. One would bat her headlamps at me and make me convinced I was the most in love that anyone could be, then the other would enfilade – if that’s the word, Jeeves would know - and undermine and lay siege to my emotions and I would be drawn to realise that she was even more the girl of all my waking dreams. Then the first would disport a pretty leg and a guy was lost like a drowning man without one of those floaty things. Soon my head was spinning inside like some damned fairground carousel and then they would float away to create earthquakes of bally emotion in some other poor sap.

And the poor sap they were earthquaking now was Binky. “I say” I said to Penelope “I mean to say!”

“Oh, hello Bertie; are you here?”

“Yes, I am, and, excuse the old language and all that but it bally well won’t do”

“Oh Bertie, you are so manly when you are cross. What has raised your ire to such a peak?”

“Well, I mean really! You know, I mean, come on!” I was losing my train of thought as her perfect features bored into me with their beauteous drills

“Bertie, you are funny!” she said and walked away. I had failed in my first sally to even reach the outer borders of her reason. I had failed my chumpy friend too. I had to make another attack. I resolved that since they could unman even the manliest man with their decorous simpering, I should resort to remote communication. In short I would write to the sweets.

I wrote “Dear Penelope and Melissa, I would esteem our friendship even higher than the highest peak if you could see your way to desisting and resisting from continuing your reduction of my chum and friend Binky – vis Lord Chuffnorton – to the state of jelly of the quivering kind by your feminine wiles and winsome ways. Your great friend and admirer Bertie”

I think that struck the right note, friendly yet forceful. Kindly yet with a velvet glove in the iron fist or something to that effect. The reply came from Penelope:

“Bertie, how delightful that you think us winsome. Is this desire truly from an affecting friendship or do you still hold a torch for me? You know we can never rekindle the delight we once had and you should not try; you delightfully silly boy. Your ever-admiring Penelope”

Well I mean, what’s a chap to do? You take the bull by the whatnot and fly too close to the sun but the horse won’t drink what? I tried the nice route. I’d have to find a different maze to reach the top of the mountain, if you catch my drift.

Binky, meanwhile was getting more confused. He would take no advice from the old oracle, to wit, myself. Indeed he became jolly well aggressive on occasions.

“Binky, old bean, how goes it?”

“Bertram, I am at a loss, I even lost the boat up the creek, not just the paddle. I think I may be hopelessly in love with two wonderful girls. Can you guess who?”

“I’m thinking it might be Penelope and Melissa?”

“Bertie, dear boy, a little more distance if you will for the ladies, one of whom will soon be Lady Chuffnorton.”

“Sorry old chum, you mean Misses Bothroyd-Harrington and Domingo?”

“In truth I do, they are the sirens of Sussex, the Angels of England. I am lost for words in their company and cannot describe them enough to do justice to infantile beauty they exude” Here I think he had mixed his words, but I forgave him; one is apt to do this when confronted by temptresses of the quality of the young ladies concerned.

“Binky, old thing. I don’t know what to say. You are aware that I swooned for their perpetual company only a three month ago? It is their recreation I think to hook poor saps like us. They will tire and move on I assure you. Only buck up and bear it a few more days and all shall be well. Just like a cold I guess”

“Bertie, how can you compare my true and lifelong love for one or other of them to your fickle and wayward short obsession?”

“Now just hang on!” I began, but he continued in like vein for fully five minutes, telling me I was a deluded idiot of the lower orders when I was head over lower; but that he was enamoured of a true and consistent love that only the loyal Greyfriars B. could emulate. Eventually this slushy paean came to an end and I blurted “You are a chump, they are playing you like a fish” He became puce and turned and walked in the direction of the lake, no doubt an appointment he had forgotten.

Rapidly and without delay, indeed immediately the following day after luncheon, I proceeded post-haste and with all speed to the residence of one Squiffy in Bloomsbury. Squiffy was in one of his fads – this time that he was a member of the poesy-clutching, emotive declaring set of that region of London. I knocked, as one does, in urgent manner. His butler welcomed me. Loquacious George he is named by those of us that know him.

“Good Morning George, is Squiffy in?”

“Good Afternoon sir. Squiffy?”

“Oh, you know, your leader, your master, Mr Darcy Skeffington”

“Ah, Mr Skeffington-Ajax Junior is in sir”

“Good, show me to his abode”

“No sir.”

“No sir?”

“No sir”

“Why sir?”

“Mr Skeffington-Ajax Junior begs me to inform all visitors that he is not receiving”

“Not receiving what? Letters? Solid food?”

“Visitors, sir”

“Ah, yes, but that won’t apply to one of his oldest, his dearest, his best – bestest? – friends”

“I fear sir he offered no exceptions”

“Look are you going to ballywell let me in?”

“No sir”

“No sir?”

“No sir”

And there we left it. If LG had been a small, weedy butler of the sort more suited to flats of the more compact kind, I might have pushed past and shouted “Squiffy! Tell your man to allow me in no matter what injunctions are in place” but the common theory was that he had played rugby for the army or somesuch. Less like a butler and more like a 20 stone gorilla in a suit I have yet to meet. The man-mountain was not to be trifled with, though none I knew had tried. Perhaps he was a large mound of butter, a slow and humble snail perhaps? Be that as it may, I opted to test such errant theories another time and left forthwith.

I resolved this must stop soonest so I set in train a plan the skill and cunning of which my errant and holidaying butler – one Jeeves by name – would be proud. I could hear in him commending me in my head.

That evening I purposefully appeared unwontedly tired, yawning and so on; ones experiences on the amateur stage at Boss Hampton stood me in good stead. I cried off the games of bridge and offered my good nights to all and sundry. Once they were convinced of my reposing direction, I doubled back to the wing housing the unmarried women of the party, four I believe there were. The marrieds had been placed square between the unmarried two genders you see. I secreted myself early in Penelope’s room, under the bed as it happens. I confess that despite the desire to remain alert, when I awoke I found the bed bulging towards me slightly and the lights all out. I slid from my cave and allowed my eyes to accustom.

There she lay, in her turquoise silk pyjamas, or perhaps they were cerulean; it matters not to the story. I pealed back the bedclothes and turned her to put her visage to the pillow. Reaching under her bed I discovered one of her mules and then put my hand on her back to hold her down.

“Hmm? What? Bertie? What are doing? You must not be here? Are you so crazy about me?” said the self-obsessed, though dashed pretty, girl. I assured her I was not enamoured in the slightest, most miniscule degree. To emphasise the point I brought the slipper down onto her posterior with some force. “Bertram Wooster! Desist this vile attack on my person!”

“Not until you promise to drop this charade with Binky”

“Never, I am madly in love with the young dear” I knew this was not true. All Bothroyds only love themselves, and Harringtons have no concept of affection at all; one wonders how the mater and pater of this girl got together at all. I belaboured her again. Seeing her tremulous behind ululating with each strike, I resolved my strength and stopped, she thought for good, but she found her body held in place by the strength of my arm, and the aforementioned silk pyjamas drawn down from her waist by my other hand. “Bertie, stop that this instant!”

Now I was able to position the fast moving indoor shoe to her lower half with greater force and accuracy.

“Ouch! Bertie I – Ow! – Bertie – Oooo! Stop, stop I say” But now my blood was up, I belayed or belaboured, I forget which, her shapely basement with force and vim. Her rounded appurtenances took on the ruddy hue of a well ripened apple before I deigned to desist. “Bertram, I don’t know what to say. You have shocked me to the quick. I have never been treated so harshly by any except my nanny when I was five. That was ill-deserved as well, I only tied one measly firework to one measly cat’s tail. It was my cat after all!”

“Penny, dearest. You are waffling and wiffling; perhaps you need further instruction?”

“No!”

“No, well, you shall no longer lead poor Binky’s head astray with these foolish notions that he is in love. He is a man of simple pleasures, indeed he is a simple man”

“You mean he is simply a man”

“No, Penny. He is a simple man. Now I have lost my train? Oh yes, it has exited the tunnel of confusion. Binky is to be left unscathed by your army of wiles, feminine or otherwise. Is that clear?”

“But Bertie, I was only one half of the army that assailed him. Is Melissa to go free?”

I perceived that there is no honour or loyalty amongst the followers of the Lorelei tradition. “No, she too will feel my wrath. I – “ at that moment my plan was nearly undone. In a moment of weak distraction I had relieved the pressure on her back and she took the opportunity to turn onto her back, wincing from the pain of her newly decorated behind. By some chance the buttons of her pyjama top had come undone and the slithery silk fell away to reveal the most impressive range of two mountains this side of the Alps. I would not hesitate to claim that no man who still had some blood in his body would have been unimpressed by the view; though perhaps Duncan PPouter would have been impressed but unmoved, given his preference for the male version of the Sapphic. That they, the mountains, were capable of still mounting to the upper atmosphere when the possessor was on her back showed just how impressive they must be. You will understand I had never been vouchsafed a clear view unencumbered by clothing before.

As I looked, I noted that some dampness had appeared to the front of where I had impressed my will on her flesh. She had not found it so unpleasant as I thought!

“Bertie. I am entirely at your mercy old thing. What can I do but agree to all and every demand you make on my person?” I found my wrap unwrapped, my lower covering uncovered, all unconscious of my actions I had presented for more sporting action than had occurred since I was in the second fifteen at Eton. “Bertie! I am appalled and awestruck!” Ah, she had caught sight of the Wooster Wang as it is known in medical circles.

My great great great Wooster had been famous for the middle stump of his wicket, some famous Scotch poet had written a piece of doggerel when in his cups to the effect that the “Wooster Wang be big and lang”. Others since had been blessed similarly and I also. Now Penelope Bothroyd-Harrington perceived that her enthusiasm for the basic instinct of animal communication might be stretched to her limit. It is well that that female protective, the one that is only to be removed once on a wedding night, was nearly non-existent in Penny. She bade me believe, which I did and do, that she had never been endowed with much to lose in that respect but that in all other ways she was as pure as the snow on a Winter field. Until now. Her offering could hardly be withdrawn; a combatant does not offer battle only to change mind at the last.

“My Lord! Bertie, this reminds me of the Italian sausage that you brought back from Napoli last year. It is stretching me to the limit. No! Don’t stop! I love it!” I could not envisage invading her with a Peperoni, though her likening my sausage to it was most complimentary. I felt like Hannibal crossing the Alps at the top, overlopping as I was the mountain range of Penelope, below I was tunnelling the Thames, opening up an untried route. The tunnelling equipment was a tight and snug fit within the watery tunnel of this voluptuous woman.

She complained with an essence of ecstasy; I contemplated that this was just like a woman to be both up and down, North and South all at once. I was not used to such exertion with self-limitation to this extent; I struggled to prevent reaching my mountain top before Penny and in order to do this I found myself thinking of old Major Dumny and his wife; a guarantee to reduce any ardour. Penny let rip a screech of dead-waking proportions and thence I knew I could similarly release the pressure of the old steampump. We relaxed with a sigh.

I found her penchant for enjoying the pain of the slipper-bottom interaction was extended to this also as she struggled to provide accommodation for all the Woosters could offer; but yet her expressions of pleasure indicated that she had reached fully the same unplanned delight. It is not unlike finding one has won all the races at Cheltenham; an event that I still have to achieve. This though, I did achieve and left her lying in Cheshire Cat mode on her satin sheets. She promised to help in similarly remonstrating with Melissa Domingo.

Melissa was made of sterner stuff. She was a late riser and so we opted to address her by slipping to her room after she finally made her way to her rest – around 2am normally; and before her maid came to awaken her around 11am. At 2am I moved like a cat burglar through quietened corridors, the house was sleeping except for those who had found their way to other’s rooms. Mostly we heard the servants in the attic rooms; there seemed to be a regular patter from above, like many mice travelling from room to room. I can only imagine the need was to clarify the breakfast requirements for the morning; servants surely do not have the same libidic needs do they? We were undisturbed on our travels though I wondered if Melissa might have found some travelling companion to the land of nod; when we arrived we found the door unlocked and the bedroom occupied only by one young lady which was all to the good, our good.

Before she awoke, we had her arms neatly tied with her own gown cord, as she came too with a gurgle and a most unladylike laugh, more befitting old man Crowther at school house when he was about to invade a young boy’s body. Her dreams were not sugar and spice I concluded. Still, that reminder gave me a novel idea.

Before she awoke, I took in her pretty nightware, clearly silk pyjamas were the fashion for young women – how would I know? Not having been invited to many (“ahem” Jeeves would say with his desire for accuracy “many sir?”) bedrooms of attractive women. Melissa’s were crimson red with golden dragons entwining around. One, I observed in a strictly subjective way (or was it objective?) curved round her lower clothing in a way that could be said by those who know as erotic. Penny eased her friend’s clothing. I mean to say! Top hole girl and all that! Melissa’s top revealed less prominent mammary thingys but the bottom revealed a fascinating mat of hair. She was almost hirsute in a triangle. Now she was fully awake.

She prepared to let rip a stentorian scream of dismay and good old Penny – her of the aching behind and leaking front – stuffed a pair of knickers into her mouth. Clean ones I noted, “Most thoughtful old thing” I said to Penny. Now dear old Melis. found herself rather too much in the way of a Royal Academy exhibit, she opted to turn onto her front. Clever Penny had trounced your’s truly’s farthing brain. Her bottom was nearly as smooth, orotund and welcoming as the last and together we addressed it with a furry slipper each.

After fully several minutes of thrashing, her bottom now flashing like the stop sign at Piccadilly, I realised that we hadn’t explained why. And even had we remembered that, she was gagged with her frillies so couldn’t have concurred with the demands anyway. I stopped and, after watching Penny for a couple more strikes as she could clearly have opened for England, I stopped Penelope too.

“Sorry old thing, forgot to tell you why and all that. Not just for japes ya know. Thing is, Binky’s head’s turned and you need to stop before it unscrews entirely what? Nod if you agree. Or we’ll just carry on I suppose” She shook her head violently, which I mistook for a refusal and thwacked hard own.

“HHmmm eeee!” was the muffled cry. Penny withdrew the gag “Stop! I won’t mess him anymore. I promise!”

“Now Bertie” said Penny “You need to give her something to remember her agreement” I caught her drift and felt round to that wet entrance of sunny delights but what ho! She was as solid as ... a very solid thing (“perhaps a bunged-up drain sir” perhaps Jeeves would have said [“No sir, I would not. Nothing so crude” – Jeeves]). If I burst that bubble there would be hell to pay.

“Please, not that. I want to save it for ... you know” pleaded Melissa Domingo and batted her eyes at me. I gave her another thwack on her bare cheek for cheek, ho!

Another thought was rising again, and it seemed Penny had the same bally good wheeze. She parted the divine arse of the hon. and gently poked a finger in the other place “Ohhh! Surely not. You couldn’t, you wouldn’t, you shan’t” remonstrated the recumbent filly.

Quick as an eel I responded “I could, I would, I shall”. Penny came to my aid with some copious cream of some kind and smother the newly flying wang and the offered, all unwillingly, target. She held Melissa in a grip of iron and I invaded like the bally Bosch invaded Belgium – hard, fast and thoroughly. Seemed like a win-win to me. Melissa stayed virgo intacta and I stayed non-virgo satisfacta. Very satisfacta in truth.

We left her to bemoan her fate and, should I tell all? We repaired to Penelop’s bedroom and renacted the affair, excepting the spanking which was a lot less vigorous on account of her behind being ahead of the game in this respect. She enjoyed the ensuing forcible entry to a great degree and would have let me again if the sun hadn’t started to climb out of bed. I scooted for my own room and ruminated on the discoveries of the night.

Next day Binky and Melissa announced their engagement! You could have knocked me down with half a feather I swear. And I realised that I was really and truly in favour of dear young Penny.

Only the arrival of Aunt A could have undermined my pleasure and delight; so she did. She had tracked me to my lair and demanded I meet her the next day to take charge of her charges.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Humor /