790. Chapter 790

After The Mistress Always Spanks Twice

Episode 2.16

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Whip me, beat me, make me confess I don't own Castle. Rating: K+ Time: See above.

Lord Richard Castle, explorer, scientist, writer, sportsman and so many other things sat facing a conundrum. Before him were his beautiful and brilliant wife, the American born Lady Katherine Castle, his daughter, the stunning and spectacularly smart Lady Alexis Castle and the Castle's Tibetan mastiff, Demming. (These were not the conundrum, however.). Demming was the second of that name to serve the Castles. The first had been Lord Castle's valet until the task of blackening Lord Castle's boots had proved too daunting for his limited intellect. That Demming had recently been elevated to the throne of a small Middle European monarchy where he served as a figurehead. Something he was capable of as he did have a head. The current Demming had one day wandered into Lady Katherine's laboratory and accidentally inhaled a potion. That had started a change in Demming. At every opportunity he would sneak into the lab for his own nefarious purposes. He had already provided himself with opposable thumbs and an intellect that far outstripped the original Demming's. No great feat, one must admit.

Lord Castle spoke. "Dash it all, my dear Katherine, your proposal is quite….un-English. It is un-American. It is French."

Lady Katherine smiled indulgently. For if the truth be told, Lord Castle was renowned as the great explorer, scientist, writer and so on, due to the brilliance of his wife and daughter. Alas, even in the waning days of the reign of Queen Victoria, English society could not countenance a clever woman, let alone two brilliant ones in the same family. Accordingly, they gave the credit that was rightly due to them to Lord Castle. Who had first charted the Sudd, the vast swamp of the Nile in the southern Sudan? Why, Ladies Katherine and Alexis Castle. Who got the credit? Lord Castle. Who had traversed the Empty Quarter of Arabia to find the lost city of Iram? You know who, and who got the credit. And jumping ahead a bit, who suggested to one Thomas Edward Lawrence that he might have a future in archeology?

But we must return to our tale.

"Richard, dearest. You have seen the reports in the press. The Mad Slasher, as he calls himself, has foully murdered several women in the vicinity of the Hellfire Club. All of these women were young ladies that I have been trying to rescue through my program to redeem fallen women. Although these women were no better than they were, they did not deserve to be murdered. We must do something about this. Of course, being women, neither Alexis nor myself can enter the premises as other than residents of the demi-monde. A male must go and that means you."

Demming, being male, at once raised his front paw and waved it about. He was aware that a lovely Irish wolfhound was in residence at the Hellfire Club.

Lady Katherine nodded to Demming. "Yes, Demming, you have permission to use the water closet."

Demming growled, but ambled off, a nefarious plan already forming in his canine mind.

Lord Castle nodded. "An English gentleman must do what an English gentleman must do. I shall apprehend this monster, even though it means entering the Hellfire Club, a place no God fearing English gentleman would enter."

However, later that night, Lord Castle called for his carriage and was driven to the infamous address just off of Soho Square. Unbeknownst to Lord Castle a shadowy and furry figure emerged from his home and jumped onto the back of the carriage.

Arriving at the Club, Lord Castle walked swiftly to the door, hoping not to be recognized. Demming, however hid in the shadows. He had disguised himself as a young gentleman from Eton College, dressed in the school's uniform of a black tailcoat, a waistcoat, a white shirt and tie, a stand up collar, pinstriped trousers and a top hat. Although he doorman was suspicious of Demming, he did have money. (Filched from the cook's grocery money. Bad Demming! Bad!)

Meanwhile Lord Castle was being led upstairs by a familiar looking redhead. He was certain he'd seen her somewhere before.

"Allo, love. I'm Meredith. Wot's yer pleasure?"

Lord Castle managed to contain his shock. Meredith had been one of the paramours of the infamous Dr. Davidson, the most incompetent crook in the whole of the British Empire. He had aspired to be the Napoleon of Crime, but after a series of defeats at the hands of the Castles, he had been demoted by the Super Criminals Benevolent Protective Association, Ltd, to the rank of juvenile delinquent. Attempting to regain his stature with the SCBPA, Davidson had once again been foiled at the hands of the Castle family. For this, the SCBPA had demoted him to the rank of honest man and Davidson now toiled long hours for little pay at the counting house of Scrooge and Cratchit.

Lord Castle suddenly saw the problem with this plan. As a happily married man, he could hardly have sexual relations with this woman. He quickly recalled a tale he had heard from another boy at his school, Colonel Prufrock's Academy for Academically Challenged Young Gentlemen. What had "Porky" Hardfellow-Softbuns said about his elder brother?

"I should like to be spanked." He said boldly.

"Oh, one o' those, eh, Luv? I have jist the thing fer you." Meredith pulled out a horribly large paddle and taking off her coat, showed two surprisingly muscular arms. "Now, just bend over, Dearie."

As Lord Castle bent over, Meredith pulled down his trousers and began to spank him. Hard.

Lord Castle did what any self respecting English gentleman would have done in similar circumstances. He screamed and cried like a baby. He was trying to remember his safe word when Meredith unaccountably stopped. Castle breathed a sigh of relief, but then noticed a draft of cold air hitting his nether regions. He looked around just in time to see Meredith being dragged through a secret panel by a masked figure.

Lord Castle called out, "Unhand that maiden, sir, or face the wrath of an English gentleman." The fellow laughed and Lord Castle strode towards the cur, only to fall on his face. His trousers were still around his ankles. The door closed.

Lord Castle pulled up his pants and examined the door. It hadn't closed all the way and he was able to pry the door open and follow the pair. Ahead of him he could hear poor Meredith sobbing. He followed.

The masked man, hearing Lord Castle getting nearer, burst into what should have been an empty room, only to find Demming smoking a cigarette with a lovely Irish wolfhound. The masked man pulled a razor sharp knife from his pocket and spoke. "Out of my way, you mangy curs, or I'll cut you to ribbons."

Demming did the only thing he could do. Whimpering, he lost control of his bladder and sprayed the man in the eyes.

Coming on his prey still blinded, Lord Castle struck him a blow that John L. Sullivan, the famous bare knuckle boxer, would have been proud to call his own. The masked man fell and lay stunned on the floor.

Lord Castle at once took his mask off. "Why it's The Duke of Earl, Eric Vaughn. He's the Mad Slasher."

Lady Katherine was most pleased with her husband for his brave and noble efforts to capture the Mad Slasher, even if he did have to sleep on his stomach for a week, she managed to keep him….pleasured in a manner that our gentle readers should not hear of.

However, things became difficult when a heavily pregnant Irish wolfhound showed up several weeks later, looking for Demming.