Valves & Vixens, Volume 2

by Blair Erotica

  “I shall take tea in the parlour,” Emily announced. She removed her somewhat tattered shawl and hat and tossed them onto the carved mahogany hall stand. Like much of the furniture in the house, on closer inspection it was a little tarnished and worn around the edges.

  “Will you be wanting some cake, Miss?”

  “Oh, yes! Cake!” Emily clapped her hands with delight. Although in her sixteenth year, her behaviour often reflected that of a younger child.

  “Find anything interesting tonight, Miss?” Maid asked, eyeing Emily’s basket with curious trepidation.

  “I did! It is a surprise for Priapus.”

  ***

  After Emily had had more than enough tea and cake, she stood and picked up her basket.

  “Butler, fetch me the key. Why have you not lowered its hook yet? You know I can’t reach it!”

  Butler, who had come in to supervise the clearing away of the tea things, shared a glance with Maid.

  “I will do it in the morning, Miss,” he rumbled in his deep voice.

  “You always say that, yet you never do!” Emily pouted at Butler as he reached up to retrieve the heavy iron key from its place above the ornately tiled fireplace. She snatched the key from him and made her way out of the parlour.

  “Shall you be wanting supper later, Miss?” Maid called to her.

  “Perhaps, I haven’t decided yet,” Emily’s singsong voice floated back from the hall.

  ***

  Standing before an unassuming door under the stairway which led to the floors above, she eagerly slid open the bolts on the chipped door and slipped the key into the lock. After the Shoreditch incident, of which no one spoke of, they had found that such precautions were sadly needed.

  “That girl should be in bed,” Maid commented as she and Butler hastily retreated to the kitchen where they would wait until summoned.

  ***

  Soft, warm gaslight lit a cavernous basement. Cluttered wooden workbenches lined the room. Jars and bottles of all sizes perched on overstuffed shelves amongst hefty leather tomes. It was best not to look too closely at the things contained in the jars as Maid had found to her horror whilst dusting several years ago. She had never ventured down since.

  This was Emily’s favourite place. The world outside offered little opportunity for a woman such as her to advance in the sciences she loved so much. Here she could experiment and play to her heart’s content.

  A tinny scuttling sound came from behind a massive bookcase.

  “Priapus, I have something for you to play with!” Emily smiled her voice coaxing.

  A small machine in the vague shape of a dog appeared from behind the bookcase. Its intricate and highly polished inner workings, made from a variety of cogs and springs, were interwoven with tiny tubes which acted as veins, carrying vital life extending fluids to its remaining organic parts.

  It shuffled towards her trying to wag a pointed spike of a tail with was obviously too heavy for its small body. From her basket, Emily produced a large rat which she proceeded to put on the floor in front of the dog-construct. The rat was groggy, waking from a chloroform induced slumber. As it regained its wits, it immediately scurried off in fright. The construct, grinding and wheezing, chased after it as fast as its cumbersome legs would allow. Emily sighed as she watched. As one of her early experiments, she realised now how crude Priapus was and made a mental note to refine it; after all, her skills had advanced somewhat since those days.

  ***

  Over the last year or so, Professor Edward Worthington had noticed with increasing frustration, items from his University’s storerooms periodically going missing. Coming to the end of his tether, he determined to wait for the rogue and finally catch the scoundrel red-handed.

  Edward had shone during even his early days at Eton and had blossomed throughout his time at Oxford. His talent for fine engineering was second to none and he thoroughly enjoyed the well-deserved place he had secured amongst his academic peers.

  The high precision equipment vital for the continuation of his work cost both him and his University’s benefactors a small fortune. The rich elite loved their toys and demanded an ever increasing progression of new innovations and ways to amuse themselves. It was known that Prince Albert was a staunch supporter of the Mechanical Arts and had discreetly donated considerable sums of money towards Professor Worthington and his colleague’s research. Queen Victoria’s stance on the matter however, was not fully known.

  For the third night in a row, Edward lay in wait, hoping to apprehend his nocturnal intruder. He was becoming both angry and desperate. He hadn’t dared report the thefts to his superiors; the last thing he wanted was to risk discovery of his ‘private’ research, unwittingly funded in its entirety by the University.

  Just after 2am, Edward woke from a disjointed doze to the sound of a faint noise. Not quite instantly alert, he rubbed the tiredness from his eyes. Hardly daring to breathe, he threw off the thin blanket he had used for warmth and watched from his hidden post behind a pile of discarded and rusty pieces of metal.

  After a moment or so with no revelation as to the identity of his thief, he was on the verge of assuming the noise had merely been made by an errant rodent. Disappointed and in a fit of reluctant despondency, he decided to return to his chambers for some much needed sleep. As he tensed his muscles to move from his cramped position, he froze as he once more heard a distinctive noise.

  A small grating, set near the floor of the storeroom, shuddered. The sound of iron against stone set Edward’s nerves on edge. Fascinated, he watched as a glimmer of moonlight fought its way through grimy barred windows set just above pavement level. It shed just enough light to illuminate the grating as it slid slowly out of place.

  He could just make out what could vaguely be seen as two wiry arms lower the heavy grating to the floor. There followed wriggling movement as something emerged from the open vent.

  Edward’s fear of the unknown combined with curiosity. He wondered at the nature of such a creature as would dare permeate his most inner sanctum.

  The unknown thing dropped fully onto the floor and emerged as a butterfly from a filth ridden cocoon. Edward’s breath caught in his throat as the creature pulled itself upright to its full and devastating form.

  Edward was powerless to do anything other than watch in fascination. The woman, as he could now clearly see, carefully picked her way through his assorted supplies. Some she picked up to regard carefully before replacing gently back. Others, she considered for longer whist a few she immediately selected, placing them into a small canvas bag slung over her shoulders. The strap of the bag pressed the fabric of her blouse firmly between perfectly proportioned breasts highlighting them with tasteful perfection in the pale blue moonlight.

  Transfixed, Edward merely watched unaware of how much time had passed since her arrival. All too soon, she made her way back towards the vent. Climbing in backwards, her delicate fingers were the last he saw of her as she pulled the grate back into place.

  ***

  “I thought I told you to lower the key, Butler. I want to be able to reach it on my own.” Emily said with a hint of irritation.

  “Of course, Miss Emily, I shall do that tomorrow,” Butler bowed respectfully.

  “I want it done now,” Emily whispered.

  “Very well, Miss Emily, I shall fetch my tools.”

  Emily expected to be obeyed. Her doting parents, who had cherished and loved her, had told her long ago that her needs and wishes were paramount. She too had cherished them in return and swore to be a most dutiful daughter. Unlike her treacherous siblings she had dutifully kept this oath, nursing first her mother, then her beloved father as they had hideously languished in the grips of the dreaded Cholera which had swept through London.

  In due course, Butler lowered the key hook to a he
ight where Emily could easily reach it. Delighted, she would never again need to rely on Butler to fetch the key.

  “Thank you, Butler! You truly are the best!”

  ***

  In the ensuing nights Edward had taken up position in the University storeroom eager to catch another glimpse of his divine intruder. He had requested several days’ leave of absence from his tutorial duties in order to sleep during the day in preparation for his nightly vigils.

  Whilst heavy red velvet curtains ensured light could not permeate his bedroom, they had no such power against his tormented dreams. Each time he rested his head upon his soft, down pillow and attained a restful dream state, visions of his ethereal thief in the night would haunt his tired mind. During such times, he would arouse to a half wakeful state, his skin afire with burning fevers of desire and his member erect and swollen, painful from lack of release.

  On the third night, Edward watched in silence. His breath already quickening in anticipation, he could barely tolerate the endurance of another night without seeing her.

  A soft noise set his heart pounding with anticipation. Skeletal white fingers slipped delicately through the grating, tightening themselves around the bars.

  Edward’s heart skipped several beats.

  Again, the grating was lowered gently to the ground with hardly a sound and out once more slithered the creature of Edward’s captivated dreams.

  ***

  Emily shook her hair, eager to be free of the small vents grime. Carefully she picked her way through the cluttered storeroom. She would stop every so often as something new and wondrous caught her eye. She spotted a small, rusty cog. Pulling it carefully from beneath a pile of detriment, she moistened a finger with a small amount of spittle and rubbed it over its dull surface. Holding it against her linen blouse she rubbed it gently against her chest.

  Edward’s breath rasped in his throat. So confused by lack of sleep was he, he half believed this to be nothing more than a fantasy constructed by his fevered brain. He felt himself bulge against the restraints of his small clothes. Before he could over think it he rose slowly, unwilling to frighten her.

  The creature looked up, as startled as a thrush caught in a cat’s gaze.

  “I mean you no harm...” He reached out a hand in gentle supplication.

  Emily’s heart froze with fright as a shape loomed from the depths of shadow. Her muscles tensed as her instinct to run kicked in. She dived back towards the beckoning promise of escape offered by the small ventilation shaft.

  Sharp edges scraped her delicate skin as she scrambled over a pile of twisted metal and rusted valves. Her foot became painfully ensnared in a tangle of scrap and she emitted a small squeal as she clasped a hand over her ankle. Despite her best efforts to pull herself from that iron grip, she was held painfully fast. As she stooped there frightened, shadows moved closer and she could do nothing.

  ***

  Edward moved over to help the woman but found he couldn’t get a strong enough grip on her ankle and the piece of metal until he managed to pin her fast. Calming words didn’t work and each time she wriggled the metal cut deeper. He kept a tight hold of the metal, pulling himself atop the wriggling girl until he held her securely beneath him. Releasing his hold on her ankle at an opportune moment, he shifted his grasp to her flailing arms. Breathlessly, he used his weight to control her. Eventually, she ceased her struggles and lay submissively beneath him.

  ***

  Emily lay still. Her eyes scrutinised the monster above her which had emanated from the shadows, frightening her into a desperate bid for escape.

  Narrowing her eyes, she finally saw it wasn’t a monster after all but a man. In the gloom of the storeroom, it was difficult to tell how old he was, however even in the murky light, his features were pleasing if not somewhat plain.

  Gradually she became aware of his weight pressing down upon her. In particular, she could feel a distinct hardness between her legs. Her curiosity increased as she noticed her reaction to such pressing matters. Her breathing increased significantly and she felt hot moisture accumulating around her most sacred of places.

  The man’s eyes bored into hers, his face so close she could almost feel the heat emanating from his lips. She wondered what those lips would feel like against her own. An overwhelming compulsion arose within her and she raised her head, her mouth opening a little, eager to taste him.

  ***

  On the verge of covering her mouth with his, Edward hastily withdrew, gripped with sudden fear. He climbed off and scrambled back from her. She remained lying for a few seconds longer, apparently unaware of her sudden release. With a swift, fluent movement, she fled, disappearing back through the vent from which she had come.

  ***

  Over the next few days and especially nights, Emily found herself pondering continually about the mysterious man in the University storeroom.

  In the depths of the early hours, unable to fully sleep, she found herself attempting to recreate the sensations she had felt that first night. She balled her hand and pressed it strongly between herself, however she could not fully emulate how it had truly felt. In her mind’s eye she tried to imagine his weight upon her once more and struggled to understand the unusual yearning of her body.

  Although she had plenty of cogs and gears, the urge to return to the University for further supplies was quite overwhelming.

  ***

  Edward could barely concentrate. His eyes were red through lack of sleep and his face waxen and pale. He did not notice the glances his students exchanged or their surprise at his unkempt appearance and disjointed lectures.

  How were they to know of his torment? How could they possibly understand the sleepless nights waiting eagerly in the depths of the storeroom in the hope of casting his gaze once more upon his Angel of the Night? Angel or Daemon, he knew not the difference. Nor did he care.

  His waking days were filled with the memory of her very essence permeating his senses whilst his nights consumed him with such lustful longing of an intensity he could not bear. During those times, brought to the point of physical agony, his only hope was to seek relief in unspoken and forbidden ways.

  ***

  Emily sat in her basement, slumped over an immense volume of Human Anatomy. The tome had fascinated her for as long as she could remember, even before she had learnt to read. She vaguely remembered her beloved father poring over this and other such books in his capacity as a physician. As a child, she had sat upon his knee carefully tracing her fingertips over the intricately drawn lines of countless illustrations of the human form. He had spoken to her as she had done so, naming each part in a language she had not understood. Eager to understand those exotic words, she had later taught herself Latin and still rejoiced in those complex but melodious names, although the memory of her father’s voice had long since diminished. Ever since she had been intrigued by the mysterious secrets of the inner workings of living things and had endeavoured to study them to the best of her ability. This knowledge she combined with her love of all things mechanical. She adored delving into, and experimenting with the intricacies of both fabulous machines and the delicacy of life itself. It was because of this, her sweet Priapus remained her faithful companion and pet and always would.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft scuttling. She looked down to see her mechanical dog staring upwards with baleful, rotting eyes.

  She slid from her stool and crouched next to the creature.

  “Oh, my dearest Priapus, I feel I have ignored your needs, somewhat.” She patted its metal head. She filled a syringe with a viscous liquid from a large glass vat. Returning to the dog-construct, she opened a small valve and pushed the syringe into it. The construct shuddered as she injected the ‘life-giving’ fluid into it. The cells of its eyes began to regenerate and fill out once more. “I am sorry. I have had
a lot on my mind these past few days. I promise I won’t let it happen again.”

  It had taken her a while to perfect the formula which sustained organic cells and organs. Her previous childish attempts had sorely lacked the precision she had later achieved. Regrettably, it had come too late to preserve her father, taken all too soon from her by cruel disease. She looked regrettably at a topmost shelf in the far corner of the basement and once more felt a stab of sorrow.

  ***

  Edward, on the strict orders of his long time friend and colleague, the Honourable Forbes Cumberland-Renwick found himself strolling through Regent’s Park.

  “What troubles you, Eddie?” Forbes asked. He had been hoping his uncommonly sullen friend would reveal to him the nature of his malaise without prompting.

  His question was met only with silence.

  “Are you ill?” Forbes probed gently, attempting not to show how deeply alarmed he had become regarding Edward’s condition. “If so, I will ensure you are seen by the finest physicians in the Empire.”

  Edward shook his head. “I know you mean well, however my infliction cannot be cured by worldly means.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  Edward raised his bleary eyes. “I am most surely possessed.”

  Forbes, not knowing how else to react, laughed. “Possessed?”

  “You mock me, sir.” Edward growled and strode away, his hands clenched by his sides. Forbes ran after him and grabbed his arm.

  “No, of course I don’t. I would never mock you.” Forbes felt a new fear growing within him. “Let us sit and discuss the matter.” He gently guided Edward towards a vacant bench.

  “Tell me of that which has possessed you?” Forbes asked quietly. Skilled in the sciences of the brain and its mysterious functions, he now felt at least vaguely on familiar territory.