This touch of a man reminds me of the manner in which I touch myself. Familiar. Correct. Stimulating in a to-the-point manner. Soon he has me aroused. I spread my legs and he crawls between them. I look down. His mouth hovers over my cock. I place my hands on his dark hair and force his head down. Lips slide over me and I groan. My cock is engulfed completely. My balls tighten. My entire genital area tingles and pressure builds.
His mouth knows what to do and does it. He strokes me slowly then increases speeds. The tension in my balls increases.
His tongue rounds the head as he comes up, and slides down the outside of my shaft as he lowers. I thrust as much as this position allows, but most of the work is being done for me.
Soon the powerful tide rising wants release and no dam can hold it back. I thrust hard and my hot cum shoots into his mouth. My cock throbs, pulsing out the last drops, and Hastie licks them all up.
While we both make ourselves presentable, I ring for Poole. "Brandy, I tell him. Bring the decanter." I look to my guest who, this time, does not protest the early hour.
"And now?" I say to Lanyon.
He sighs and takes the chair I offer, sitting carefully. His color has returned and he seems not so alienated and yet that sad look is still imbedded in his features. "I am grateful to you, Henry. You have helped me in my time of need, when I felt I could trust no other. And I have been so sharp with you oftentimes."
"Nonsense. You are my friend. What more is there to say?"
"I feel I must say more. Because we are friends, and not lovers." His eyes are earnest. "And friends I would like to stay."
He looks worried, as though he might be offending me. I hastened to reassure him. "Have no fear, Hastie, our friendship is sound and, if anything, stronger. I have already found a lover in Ursula, if she will have me."
Relief floods his face. "She is a delightful girl, fresh. Were I not so preoccupied, I might have designs on her myself."
Poole brings the Brandy and we drink two glasses each, straight down, in silence.
As I am refilling our glasses, Alan Wilcox is announced by Poole who, with foresight, brings a third glass.
"We are just discussing Hyde," Lanyon reports.
"You know of his misadventures?" I ask Wilcox.
"Yes," Alan says, "Hastie reported to me earlier in the day."
I look from Wilcox to Lanyon, wondering if that earlier reportage was as intimate.
"Hyde must be stopped." Wilcox says. "He is infamous, his victims legion."
"And yet victim is a peculiar word, is it not?" I say. "I have, myself, treated several, after the fact. None appear to be the worse for wear, and all, like yourself, Hastie, enjoyed the whipping immensely." Why I am defending Hyde, I do not know.
"It is not the thrashing but for the other that he should be damned," Hastie says angrily. "He is stony, to bring to life these marvelous new sensations and then to abdicate his responsibility towards the one he has mastered so thoroughly. It is disgraceful. I will not tolerate it. The kindness both you and Alan have shown me permits the light to shine through."
Apparently Hastie has taken much solace today.
He continues, "Hyde must be nipped in the bud before he does real damage. And Henry, surely you are aware of his pursuit of Ursula."
I cannot respond. Hyde would use and abuse her as he has the others. I have every intention of stopping him yet I am unable to bring myself to admit the relationship between he and I. It is too shameful, for was it not my folly which created this dark creature and set him loose upon the world? Even now, his voice within me screams, Coward!
"I have an idea," Wilcox says.
"Which is?"
"Hastie has told me of your remarkable prescription."
Lanyon squirms on his seat, as well he should. How dare he betray a confidence! A dark urge passes through me: if I but had him alone, his behind would be a sea of red liquid! Where that thought comes from, I dread to discover.
"Let me drink your dark potent. If it works on me as well as it reportedly worked on Horace the hound, I shall be Hyde's equal. Then I might seek him out and confront him properly, man to man."
I jump to my feel. "Impossible! It will not work on you."
"How do you know that?"
"Well, I-I, I've tried it. No effect. It only produces symptoms on lesser creatures with a strong base instinct."
"Perhaps, Henry, it's just you. And if you remember our misspent youths, you may also recall that my instincts are far baser than both yours and Hastie's combined. Besides, what harm is there in my trying?"
I remember Alan's stories, yes, but now wondered how much was the bravado of youth and how much actualized. "Well, it cannot be done anyway. I am without one essential ingredient. I cannot make the mixture, so this is a moot argument."
Lanyon pipes up. "Well, surely if you could buy it once, you can purchase more."
A darkness passes before my eyes. If I gave him a taste of the cat, he would think twice before interfering in future!
This thought shocks me. Is Hyde controlling my mind now? I break out in a cold sweat of fear. I must get these two out of here at once before something occurs which gives the game away.
"Henry, I insist," Wilcox is saying. "It is not just Hastie, you know. I was at the Utterson's party. Although you were long gone, I can tell you that when Hyde kissed Miss Lawrence full on the lips, she did not resist him."
I feel stunned. "Ursula has already fallen under Hyde's spell?"
"For the sake of your dear Ursula, and the citizens of London, you must throw your lot in with ours."
"Please, Henry, I beg of you," Lanyon adds. "How many more will be crushed? You call him friend, but are you willing to let him crush the fragile flower who has won your heart?"
The black fury washing through me knows no bounds and I struggle to quell it. "Yes. Alright," I say, desperate for them to leave. "Now go. The both of you. I have much work to do."
"And when will this potion be ready?" Wilcox asks.
"By Saturday afternoon." By then I will have thwarted Hyde myself and there will be no need for this, but I do not confide my plan to my friends.
They leave post haste and I prepare for the night ahead.
Without the elixir, Hyde will be unable to surface. As an extra precaution, I send Poole for a selection of chains and padlocks. I will chain myself to the wall. Then we shall see what Hyde will do!
Chapter Ten
"Damn him!" I yank on the chains once again. Jekyll, the bastard, has me bound ankles and wrists to the cold stones, naked, well back in the shadows of the laboratory. The only part of me sticking out into the light is the tip of my erection, straining for the freedom to find a receptacle for his gift. Freedom that is his due!
The sun set two hours ago. Jekyll thinks he can relax, now that I am temporarily enslaved. He dozes but I keep guard, searching for an out. Jekyll infringes upon my time, and for this he will pay.
I give the chains another yank, but brute force will not help me here. Jekyll thinks he's so clever. Yet I am equally clever, if not more so, for, after all, have I not come from his loins, as it were?
"Poole. Poole!" I shout. "Is that you?"
Jekyll gave instructions that he was not to be disturbed until morning. In fact, he has sent the servants off for the evening. You'll not get free to rampage this night! he says, apparently awake again, that sanctimonious voice grating in my ears.
But I heard a door close in the main apartments just now. We'll see how dominant a character Jekyll is and whether or not those instructions were obeyed.
"Poole, come in here at once, or you will be employed elsewhere on the morrow!"
Within moments the stiff servant makes an appearance. "Sir?" he asks, looking around the room.
"You may roll the top of my desk open. In the small drawer on the right you will find a gold key. Bring it to me here, in the shadows."
He does as I ask and within seconds I have him unlock the shackles affixed to my wr
ists. "Good man," I say, and as I do so I am disconcerted to feel myself recede and another voice, that of Henry Jekyll's, replace my own.
My servant is startled, unsure just how this situation of changing voices came about. He is, however, too discreet to inquire, which is why I hired him. Hyde's voice hisses in my ear, One of the few actions you've taken which show you've intelligence above that of a gnat. At least I have this carnal madman still under control.
Once I am free, I stay in the shadows. After all, it would not do to have Poole see an unfamiliar face and I have the sense that I am not completely myself. My face and body feel twisted, almost as if I had consumed the potion. My face is the more attractive, Hyde's voice snarls. At least it possesses passion and vitality!
"Then why cover it?" I mock him.
"Sir?" Poole says.
"Nothing."
Hyde is ferocious and I realize my strategy has failed. I must release him tonight else he do real damage and embarrass me beyond redemption. I must go by my instinct, for I feel certain I cannot repress him entirely. It is better to give him his way now so that I may be clear and rational when the sun rises in order to think up another plan to annihilate him.
"Poole, I gave you a box of salts from Maw's today."
"Yes sir. You instructed me to dispose of the contents."
"Yes. And have you?"
"I beg your pardon, sir, but I was busy running errands for you this afternoon. I have taken it to my room, sir, and intend to discard the salts first thing in the morning."
"Excellent! Bring the box to me. Right away."
"But sir, you ordered me..."
"I know what I said and now I say this: bring me that box as quickly as you can."
"Very good, sir."
Once he is out of the laboratory, I begin stacking the vials and tubes and jars of ingredients on the counter, lighting the Bunson, prepared to make my mix quickly, once the keystone of the potion arrives. Impatiently I wait for Poole and, when I hear him returning, turn my back to him so that he may not see my face, lest there is something there which he does not entirely recognize.
"Put the box on the counter," I instruct him.
There is a pause. "I'm afraid I cannot do that, sir."
I restrain myself from spinning around to confront him. "And why not?"
"Because, sir, my wife has disposed of it tonight."
"What? What kind of fool have you married? Go and fetch the box at once from wherever she has taken it."
"I'm afraid I cannot. You see, sir, she emptied the salts into the Thames."
There is a beaker within reach. I pick it up and struggle with Hyde, who would like to aim it at Poole's head. My control wins out and the beaker shatters in my fist, imbedding pieces of glass into my hand.
Calming myself, I walk to the basin and wash the wounds, picking out the glass, then wrapping my hand in gauze. I walk to the desk and write out a script. "You will take the carriage and give this to Maw immediately. If he is not at his shop, go to his home in Highgate. Wake him if need be. Tell him it is urgent that Doctor Jekyll have this refilled. I must have another order of these salts tonight. Is that clear?"
I hold the paper over my shoulder. I hear Poole walk across the hardwood. He takes the paper from my grasp. "Very good, sir."
The time it takes for Poole to go and return is but half an hour and yet it feels like days to me. Hyde battles to gain ascendance and I fight to keep him down.
"I shall give you your due," I promise him, "but not at your discretion, but at mine."
And we shall see whose discretion rules in future! he snaps.
It is only when Poole places the familiar square pale brown tin onto my counter that I permit myself a sigh of relief.
I send Poole away, mix my murky poison and drink it down. And wait.
Within moments both Hyde and I realize something is amiss. Nothing is happening. The familiar expansion, the sense of burgeoning power. None of it comes to the fore.
Hyde becomes a maniac, struggling against this skin that holds him imprisoned, pounding my flesh like an ape, willing himself to expand and surface, to assume his proper size and shape. Is my due as a true Master in order that I may take control.
"No one would like to fulfill your wish tonight more than I," I tell him, for this struggle saps every ounce of strength I possess and I feel close to death. I cry out, Hyde's frustration mingled with my own, which brings Poole running.
"Excuse me, sir, but I heard..."
"Poole. What do you see?" I demand, spinning in his direction.
He looks confused. "I see you, sir."
"Describe me."
"Well, you look the same as always, sir, although usually you are clothed."
"Do you see any differences? Speak up man!"
He steps down into the theater to stare at me close up. "Well, sir, I do believe I see something different."
"Which is?"
"Your eyes, sir, they seem, well, more determined. Your face generally is perhaps more angular. Your muscles seem flexed and you are standing to your full height."
"And who do I look like?"
"Well, like yourself. Dr. Henry Jekyll."
This is as I feared. I am the same but not the same.
"Bring me clothing, quickly! And ready the carriage."
Within half an hour I am dressed and have arrived at Maw's
Apothecary. The place is dimly lit, for it is late, but Maw, I know, often works alone in the back into the night.
Hyde, forcing my hand, pounds fiercely on the door with my injured fist until finally I see a lamp lit within and a bewhiskered old man shuffling about.
Suddenly a voice to my left says, "Jekyll, good to see you old man."
"And you, Alan," although Wilcox is the last person I wish to see at the moment.
"So, I take it you've come to buy your special powder, to mix the magic potion which will permit me to confront Hyde."
Within, old Maw makes his way towards the door at an agonizing pace.
"I'm here on important business, with no time to talk just now."
"Fine, I'm on business myself. It seems that no-good Hyde has been rumored to use powers and such from Maw here. I've come to investigate that we might put the long arm of the law to work and capture the fiend when he arrives for refills. Once I have your potion in hand, I shall surprise him on his next restocking. What's happened to your hand, then?"
Just then Maw opens the door and both Wilcox and I enter. "Dr. Jekyll, Inspector, to what do I owe..."
"Maw, for God's sake," I begin without delay, "that power I sent Poole for..."
"Could this be the magic aphrodisiac?" Wilcox asks. "So you are purchasing more."
"Well, I ran out," I snap. "I told you that."
"The new supply reached you, did it not?" Maw asks. "I sent it 'round over an hour ago..."
"Of course it reached me, but it is not the prescription I wrote!" The frustration in my voice is apparent to both men.
"Jekyll, get a grip," Wilcox says sternly, but I ignore him.
"Well, that cannot be," Maw says.
"It is! I know the powder, and it is not the same."
A strange look comes over Maw's face.
"Well?" I demand, suspecting a confession to be forthcoming.
He looks embarrassed, guilty, glancing first at Wilcox, then back at me. Finally he says, "Henry, I must apologize. You are correct. The powder is not the same. What I sent you is from a new batch."
"But still, that cannot make such a difference. The ingredient did not produce the same result as when I mixed it before."
Now he truly appears guilt ridden. Something is awry. I cross my arms over my chest. Hyde is impatient, as always, a dangerous situation and with Wilcox here, it is doubly dangerous, to both of us. "Be blunt, Maw. I don't have the night."
The words stumble from his lips. "The former batch was tainted. I only discovered it myself when the new shipment arrived. The manufacturer sent a letter, informi
ng me of a peculiar mold which had grown and spread throughout it. I was just now preparing a note to all my customers who had purchased it, including yourself, advising of the bad shipment and that I would replace it, of course. Perhaps I should have told Poole, but I felt an official letter was best and I hadn't yet written them. I beg your pardon, Henry. Of course, I shall reimburse you what you paid, and provide the new shipment free of charge..."
He continues on but I do not hear him. I feel stunned, unable to react.
"Does this mean you are incapable of mixing your potion again, Henry?" Wilcox asks.
Hyde is triggered by this question. And he does not experiences my limitations. Before I can stop him, he lunges at old Mr. Maw, grabbing him by the throat until the man's face turns beet red.
"Stop it!" I scream, and Maw and Wilcox must think me mad, as it is my hand doing the violence.
Hands wrap around my wrists. Alan Wilcox commands with the voice holding the authority of the law behind it, "Jekyll! Release him! Now! Have you lost your reason?"
With inhuman strength, I wrench Hyde's fingers from Maw's throat.
Before either of them can stop me, I lurch out the door and onto the cobblestones, leaving Maw gasping in the doorway and Wilcox looking angry and perplexed. The latter shouts after me, "Get a grip man. You're acting more like that devil, Hyde, than yourself."
A tortured cry comes from my lips, but whether it originates with myself or Hyde, I know not. Like a man chased by the devil himself, I flee down alleyways, through parks, Hyde's voice raging accusations and curses in my ears.
The awful truth stabs at my heart. What I have created will now live within to haunt me. I must abide this creature day and night, his voice loud in my ears, his thoughts coloring mine. His indignation ripe and righteous. I wonder if I shall be able to keep this energy in check. Suddenly an uneasy sense washes over me concerning the future. I fear terrible surprises are in store. For me. For my poor darling Ursula.
Chapter Eleven
No sooner has Dr. Henry Jekyll come through the door and been announced, than he clutches me by my arms and whispers frantically in my ear, "Ursula, be mine!"
The Darker Passions Page 8