Chapter 1

Until today I was a Royal Marines Commando, My name is Denis Smock. I am 27 years old and extremely fit. I was discharged for striking my superior Officer and for bringing the service in to disrepute.

Well that was what they said. I had been charged for striking S.V Boot Lieutenant of Royal Marines, Fortunately I had two non-Marine witnesses which stated that I had been struck first and only retaliated. What the witnesses didn't know was that I had goaded the long streak of piss, and his two snotty friends, Boot was 6ft 2inand I was only 5ft 9in and thought that he could better me. Granted he managed to hit me on the side of the head with one blow but missed with the other. I on the other hand had landed a kick to his crutch and as he came forward I drove a two-handed punch to the side of his head, crushing his face into the concrete ground.

His two officer buddies immediately arrested me, not knowing of the witnesses, once they came forward with there sworn statements. I knew I could stretch this to my advantage and wanted the charge laid in an open court. Since Boots family was something in the city, it would have looked bad to have this officer and his two friends dragged into an open court. So he got a slap on the wrist and I got thrown out as Services No Longer Required.

I joined the Marines since I was an orphan, and had no home or relations in the country. Now here I was strolling through a posh part of London, with nowhere to go and just strolling in general. I would stay in a hotel somewhere tonight and look for somewhere to stay tomorrow. I had left all my personal belongings in two suitcases at a Left Luggage Office.

As I walked I could smell all the different smells coming from the houses kitchens which were located in the basement of these Victorian houses. The downstairs, as the snobs called them, where you keep the servants until wanted. Anyway I was coming up to this house's stairway, when a car pulled up and the chauffeur got out and was helping this well-dressed lady out the rear door. Three late teen youths just run up and attacked them. One hit the old chauffeur and the other two had the elderly lady on the ground hitting her and trying to pull her handbag from her, but she was holding on to it tightly.

I ran up behind the one with his back to me and kicked him in the balls, jumped over the lady and hit the other one with an open palm under his nose. He went down like a felled tree. The other, seeing the fate of his two mates run away, but shouting obscenities over his shoulder.

The one I had kicked was writhing on the ground; I picked him up and smashed his head into the iron railings.

The chauffeur had got to his feet, and was sitting in the car door holding his chest. I helped the elderly lady to her feet.

"How are you love, "I asked her

She looked at her two attackers and said, "Well I am in a better state than they are thank you very much, I think I have a few bruises and my leg is very stiff."

She then looked at the chauffeur and said, "Henry you go home this young man will help me upstairs I'm sure."

"Of course I will, where is your house?" I asked her.

"This one is mine, but my servant is off today, could you help me up the stairs, please, "she asked

I helped her up the stairs to her front door and she almost collapsed in my arms, trying to save her from falling I grabbed a handful of soft breast. She didn't seem to mind but I moved my hand away as soon as I had her steady.

"Look I better make sure you get in all right you are a bit unsteady on your feet," I said to her.

I held her as she opened the door and I helped her in. There was a second set of doors but they weren't locked and opened at the turn of the knob. I shut the front door for her.

"Which way love," I asked her.

She pointed to the right and then fainted into my arms. I picked her up, she was no weight at all, and carried her into the room she had pointed to. This was a small lounge like room with two low sofas facing into each other, either side of a large gas fireplace.

I laid the lady down on the first one and placed her handbag and gloves on the occasional table.

God I thought what do I do, if someone comes in they will think I have assaulted her. I can't just leave her, I saw that her knees had been scratched and noticed there was blood running down her leg, from her outer thigh. I pulled up her coat and dress and saw she had a deep cut about 2 inches long and bleeding bad. On the occasional table was a white tea-towel like thing so I got it and placed it over the wound and pressed it tight.

The way I was sitting I looked right down to her pubic region and saw she was wearing bright red frilly French knickers type panties. There was no way I could stem the flow of blood and not notice them so I just ignored them and tried to put my eyes elsewhere.

Soon she came too and saw me sitting there with my hand on her thigh, and was about to scream.

"Wait lady! You have a bad cut on your thigh and I am holding a cloth on the cut to stem the flow. I had to lift your dress to get to it, and I didn't know what to do next since you had fainted." I explained to her.

"I am extremely sorry, I have put you in an embarrassing situation and I am very grateful for your help, honestly," she said.

"Are you hurt anywhere else," I asked.

"A few bruises I think here and there, but they should be fine," she went on.

"Where can I get a bandage or plasters, to put on your cut," I asked.

"I have them in my bathroom, but that is upstairs," she replied.

"I will carry you up then, I carried you in here and you were no trouble. But first let's tie that towel on to stop it falling off, or can you hold your hand on it. Otherwise you will be dripping blood all over the place," I said to her.

"You couldn't possible carry me all the way up to the third floor," she said.

"You just watch me," I said.

I laid her handbag and gloves on her stomach and placed her hand on the towel and told her to keep it pressed, I slipped my arms under her and lifted her up. She automatically put her arm around my neck and we made our way up the stairs.

"How very romantic this is, I've never been carried in a man's arms before and it is wonderful," she said to me.

Once we got to the third floor she indicated that I turn right, we walked to the end of a short passage and entered the door at the end. It was a large bedroom, definitely female with all the frills and lace and a wonderful aroma of perfume.

"Through that door there, "she said, pointing to a door on the right.

This led into a large bathroom with a huge bath sitting atop two steps up to it, a shower recess and a three-basin vanity unit. Mirrors running round the walls, door included.

"My you like to look at yourself, with all these mirrors," I said to her.

"You know women, we always like to be looking at ourselves," she replied.