Chapter 5

He was more than grateful to reach Holt House on this occasion. As he stepped gingerly from the cab; his arse and legs stiff from his activities, he looked up at the house which was roseate in the setting sun. He thanked his good fortune as the cab clip-clopped away behind him, and as he viewed the welcoming windows of the residence he suddenly though of the poor girl he'd seen again before leaving. With his hand on the wrought-iron gate he quickly scanned up and down the street which was mostly deserted now. In the distance a lamp-lighter whistled as he descended back down his ladder from a lamp post having ignited the gas with his burner; soon it would be dark, and cold. He thought about making a quick reconnaissance of the nearby streets, but was just too weary. Besides, what would he do if he found her? Give her more money? Bring her to Holt House? He kidded himself that the colourful shiner he'd seen on her face earlier was down to a tumble, having had a shilling's worth of Dutch courage. He failed to convince himself but swung the gate open; it gave a shrill metallic squeak as hid did so, another small job he'd gratefully do tomorrow out of sheer respect for his new and comfortable home. A smiling face with red hair opened the door to him; alerted by the maintenance necessary to the gate.

"Greasy fingers tomorrow." He said as Georgina welcomed him in. Marcia was waiting for him, dressed in a silk night-gown. She looked at him warmly as he carefully alighted on the soft sofa cushions by her side and George knelt before them, still grasping his hand. Marcia pulled him close and kissed him softly.

"I know you'll have earned your keep for a month where you were today. We're going to treat ourselves to some alcoholic aperitifs this evening, and treat young Georgina to some too; I'm sure we're both very grateful for her help. Then we'll all cuddle up in my bed together; I want to ensure my property is warm and comfortable and has a good night's rest." He was nearly asleep as it was; his head rested on her silk covered breasts as he inhaled her soft sweet scent. The ginger girl he now faced from the clutch of his benevolent mistress was the antithesis of the virago he had endured and serviced earlier. Marcia Rendlesham was the epitome of female dominance. She was quite happy to indulge and even pamper her male prodigy, as she knew that he was naturally submissive and would not hesitate to obey her most basic command or whim. It was this natural state of things which allowed her to enjoy him, without any need for her to demonstrate the slightest reference to her superiority over him. She also knew that his sexual desire and libido will have been stretched to the limits by her acutely dominant business associate; he would now be allowed to recover so that whoever received his services next, would have his full attention. Georgina's softness had been a tonic for him prior to his ordeal, she would now be key in assisting Marcia in ensuring his recovery. A quiet night was guaranteed as Lottie, Belinda, and the formidable Amanda were being entertained at a music hall in town.

He rapidly recovered from his stiffness as the alcohol worked its anaesthetic- like qualities on him, Marcia indulged his affections, and Georgina became very daring in her approach; squeezing him close on the sofa, the other side of Marcia, making the most of every minute of the evening. At about ten thirty, the three indulged in the soft luxury of the bed. He lay there in the soft folds, sandwiched between mature and youthful beauty, as willing a captive as he could ever be, and slept without the slightest intervention from the inebriated equipment between his legs.

The following morning was announced by crisp sunshine. He was as stiff as a board at first and his head a little woolly, but was soon revived by the attentions of the willing Georgina; dynamic in her enthusiasm in feeding him and Marcia breakfast. After washing this down with several cups of tea, he donned a working apron and retrieved a pot of grease from the basement. He had just finished applying a liberal smearing of grease to the last hinge at the top of the gate when a commotion across the street caught his attention. Though not clearly audible, he could hear the snarls of an oaf of a man; the waif of the previous days being almost dragged by him. The wealthier pedestrians gave the two a wide berth, pretending to be oblivious to the ruffian, and his management of a girl half his size. Though at some considerable distance, she looked over to him at the gate, with eyes that betrayed her fear even from afar. He quickly wiped his hands on the apron and furtively crossed the road, following the two stealthily.

As darkness descended he struggled to keep an unnoticed distance from the couple, whilst maintaining visual contact. As he walked on, the tone of the neighbourhood descended in keeping with the light; they traversed narrow alleys, passed shabby courtyards and filthy semi-derelict buildings. The air grew thick with wafts of mist; he realised they must be close to the river now. They paused outside a decrepit ale house; the oaf wiped a dirty window with his ragged sleeve and peered in, then gesticulated at someone inside. The girl moved to one side in a feeble attempt to escape as his attention was diverted; the oaf grabbed her and slammed the frail body against the wall. As he did this, a wiry male appeared in the light of the open door, leering at the girl; he dug deep into his pocket and passed something to the oaf, probably a fee. He had a spirit bottle in the other hand, which he passed to the oaf who downed almost half of the contents immediately. The girl squirmed as the thin man fondled her, and she was taken further on by the two, to even gloomier surroundings.

They were right by a large tributary of the river now; this part had silted up and saw no trade anymore. The old wooden warehouses went four stories up, and leaned out over the filthy sewage laden creek. The gantries above which once allowed access to the holds of ships below, now looked down on mud several fathoms deep. The sight was all the more depressing as the tide was out; the rivulets through the thick mire giving the scene a positively evil look. The two men looked about them to ensure they were not seen, and dragged the unfortunate girl through a door into one of these rickety wooden buildings. He waited a minute or two then went to the door they had disappeared through. It was almost pitch black inside, and he closed his eyes for a few moments to allow them to become accustomed, and utilise what little light was available. He could hear murmurings from beyond, and detected a dim shimmering of light through the floorboards above him. Though he was filled with trepidation, his fears for the girl outweighed his own concern; he carefully ascended the creaky stairs in pursuit of the party. As he reached the next level he found a rudimentary lamp showing the way to the next flight of stairs across a floor which had gaping holes in it, just to add to the difficulties he may face if he needed to make a swift escape. The next level was equally as treacherous; it looked as though several attempts to burn the structure to the ground had been attempted, its damp and rotten timbers becoming the unkempt building's ironic saviours.

He carefully ascended the last flight of stairs and peeped round into the grotto-like floor space before him. It angered him as he heard the sad whimpering of the girl and the course voices of the oaf and his thin client; the building moved visibly as the two slapped the girl around and wrestled her to the floor where a makeshift mattress had been assembled. The oaf slapped her.

"Shut yer row! There's aint nobody gonner help you here. Get yer underwear off and show the bloke what you've got; he aint paid to watch you blubber!" The oaf then retreated and sat on a broken chair with his bottle, swigging it and smiling as the terrified girl dropped her loose underwear. It struck him that the thin man was happy to have paid to see the girl blubber; he seemed to be getting a great deal of pleasure from her distress. He unbuttoned his flies and pulled his erect cock out; grabbing the girl by the hair when he'd done so.

"You suck on me for a while first, you little bitch. Don't you dare even think about biting me! If you do, I shall cut your face!" She tried to pull away and begged him not to make her do this. He slapped her face viciously, smiling with pleasure as he did so. The oaf laughed and teetered on his chair as he discarded the now empty bottle. The thin man produced a knife from his pocket.

"I think I'll cut you anyway; you'll look good with a stripe across your face!" He lifted the weapon, cruelly teasing her with it as he chose where to cut her. It was now or never. He flew from the doorway and kicked the thin man's arm skyward; the knife spiralled into the air, dropped and bounced down a hole in the boards. His look of absolute rage made the thin man take immediate flight; whoever he was, he did not want there to be any chance of his being caught in this situation. With his now flaccid cock waving from side to side he was down the stairs and gone into the night. The oaf looked on in a semi-drunken stupor; his dimly lit brain seemingly paralysed for a moment as he tried to reconcile what was happening. He lifted from the chair and launched himself at the unwelcome apparition, who pitched himself sideways as the oaf stumble through a convenient hole in the floor. The girl spread herself against the wall and watched as her saviour moved round to the chair which sat right at the front of the building, facing the creek. The oaf pulled his leg free from the hole and stormed toward him, the whole floor shaking and creaking as he came. As he stomped blindly forward, the oaf lifted his arms as our man ducked and shimmied sideways. The menacing lout's foot found the empty bottle and he tripped headlong into the frail and rotten weatherboarding which disintegrated before him. His body left a gaping hole as he fell 50 feet headlong into the mire below. His body disappeared completely, enveloped by the mud; the hole where he entered bubbled a little, and a swirl of filthy water slowly rose in the depression it left. He would not bother anyone else again.