Dr Watson's Wimbledon Wanton

But it was neither Angel nor Chrissie's hand which withdrew the shiny weapon and held it up for inspection. No, it was held in the Prussian's fingers and he seemed to wave the weapon in a kind of mock triumphal manner before presenting it to one of his fellow villains. Following which action, he pushed his hand back into the slit again and apparently began a grossly offensive search of discovery under the girl's skirt. A search which called forth the most heart rending cries of distress from his forlorn victim and a violent series of struggles, counteracted by the Prussian pressing himself against her in the lewdest manner, squeezing the girl between his strong body and the support bar between the chair legs. Eventually she could make no movement which would not further inflame his amorous desires. Sensing this. she stood still, until he put his other hand up to the front of her body and laid it on one of her bosoms. Yet even the struggle against that wanton outrage eventually subsided as her strength waned.

It was at that point she was apparently urged to face the camera so that the scene might be clearly recorded in every disgusting detail. And, I noticed, at an angle which much have also included in the background several of the dummy figures. I also noticed in every detail how flushed was Miss Oakes' face, and how wide her eyes were as she stared at the rough handling of her companion. With my honed deductive abilities, I realised that her appearance seemed almost identical with the behaviour she had displayed when listening at Mrs Hudson's door. A very strange observation indeed, and the only connecting link between the two occasions was that the molested girl was beginning to make sounds somewhat similar to those of Mrs Hudson's sick parrot. An odd coincidence. But I had no time to ponder it further as one of the molesters raised his head, his attention fixed for the space of a few heart beats on a few puffy clouds drifting past on the horizon.

In a flash of insight I realised how important it might be for the gang that conditions should remain as they were. In the strong sunlight the pictures should be near perfect reproductions. Doubtless that was one reason why this place was chosen, in the open air but completely isolated from view. Nor could the pretence of the painted background have been sustained within the bounds of a room. What a damned piece of work this was, and no way of stopping it on my own . . .

There was movement around the chair, masked figures moving around it, closing in again. This time the Pirate had his hand inside the girl's skirt while both the Red Indian and the Clown toyed with her bosoms. Another short and useless struggle on her part, and then the Pompeian tableau was held in animation for a second or so as another plate was exposed and then removed from the camera. In the meantime the Prussian had walked past Miss Oakes, slapping her posterior as he did so, her jaw dropping with shock at such insolence. Then he stepped up behind the other sister and disarmed her, the Mandarin standing close by to take the pistol. And, as everybody there now expected would happen, his hand went back inside the captive maiden's skirt to perform actions which should have no place at all outside the matrimonial bed in the dark of night.

The cries of Wiggins' helpless employees sounded loudly in my ears as both of them capitulated into a futile slow dance of despair against the hands which molested them from all sides. As the camera was moved around the chair the Prussian appeared to give some orders. Angel and Chrissie's hats were removed and their tightly bunned hair unpinned in what seemed to be an oddly gentle way. Then, as the Mandarin and the Clown laid their wanton hands on the girl, the Prussian turned her head towards the nearest sister and kissed her through the mouthpiece of the mask. Perhaps by then she was too bemused to know what was happening because she seemed to be responding to his kiss as if it were from a genuine lover instead of a loathsome lecher. Indeed, when he left her and the Mandarin pressed for the same display of affection she offered it with the same apparent eagerness, even with his hand still taking insufferable liberties inside her clothing.

Oh well, as good looking as they were, the sisters were in truth only hired guttersnipes and nothing better than abject surrender to brute force was to be expected from them. Miss Oakes, of course, was horrified at being forced to witness a scene rapidly descending into unbelievable depths of iniquity. For by now the thug wearing the African mask had left the camera man to continue his work unaided to join the molesters in their wicked pursuits. Three around Angel, three around Chrissie, stroking the girls underneath and outside their clothing, kissing them, running their fingers through the long tresses of blonde hair, nibbling on their ears and whispering a running stream of foulness into their ears.

Naturally, the effect was to bring on convulsions in the poor trapped females. Their bodies quivered as if in the final throes of malaria, they called out to their maker for relief, twisted and jerked against their restraints and finally slumped against the cross bars of the chair as the kidnappers laughed at the effects they had achieved. I only hoped that whatever damage they had caused to the girls would not be of a permanent nature. And then the Prussian stood behind Maude and removed her hat. As if this was a signal they had been waiting upon the rest of his followers abandoned Chrissie and Angel and began to press around their final victim like hyenas waiting their chance.

"Love all, Miss Watson," I heard the Prussian jeer.

Maude's face was brick red, her lips wide apart as she struggled for breath, her eyes almost rolling back in her head as the insolent young swine scratched her underneath one earlobe. His hand ran down her neck, underneath her arm, onto the magnificent swellings at the front of her dress and lingered there, gently squeezing Maude's body like a Caesar showing his mastery over a conquered Queen. I remembered her prophetic words about becoming a Roman triumph in an iron cage if she lost the final: well, she had not yet lost the final but it was clear she was in clear and present danger of losing all her other virtues.

The Prussian abandoned her upper torso, left those contours to other hands, and did for Maude as he had for the sisters, removing a pistol from its intimate hiding place. And having removed it his hand went back from whence it had came as all the other kidnappers crowded around him to caress whatever part of Maude's tethered body each of them could reach. Her head swayed from side to side as long drawn out cries issued from her mouth, and still the villains plied their wickedness on her. I took a half step towards the scene, then stopped, realising the futility of trying to do anything under the present circumstances. Indeed, and ashamed I am to confess it, but my body was reacting to the sight of Maude's distress in a way which would have revealed to even the most casual observer that I was not a waxwork dummy but a being of flesh and blood -- male flesh and blood.

As a doctor I had on occasion been queried by young gentleman whom had been bothered by the same problem of involuntary arousal when overly excited by proximity to female bodies. I had always firmly advised them that such bodily functions were simply a mere physiological whim which could be firmly dealt with by suitable mental discipline. However, as the gang continued their outrages upon Maude I confess that nothing I could do seemed to have any effect on my virility -- nor on my trembling legs and sweating brow. Yes, I closed my eyes but all that achieved was to make the sounds I was hearing even more stimulating to that part of a man which seems eternally bound to the old Adam and original sin. And when Miss Oakes eventually gave out a series of shuddering cries of total despair my eyelids sprang open of their own accord: I saw her leaning against the chair, her features akin to that of a bather swept over a waterfall and now floating in some peaceful pool, astonished to find herself still alive.

Of course the villains were far from finished with her. But first they turned their attention to Angel and Chrissie again. Though this time it was to their clothing. The buttons on the backs of their dresses were undone, the gaps pulled open to reveal the laces on their corsets, the laces in turn unknotted and loosened. Then one of the sisters had her wrists freed, though her arms were still held tightly by the Clown and the Indian as the top of her dress was pulled down over her white -- and much freckled -- shoulders and then down her arms. Finally there was nothing but a pile of white linen around the girl's ankles which was in turn was quickly covered by a discarded camisole. Clad only in her bloomers and a loosened waist corset, the girl was dragged around to the front of the umpire's chair, where the Mandarin used the point of a rapier to prod her into climbing the ladder at the front. I noticed that a large pillow had been placed on the high chair, and on this the apprehensive girl sat, her feet at the same level as the shoulders of the watchers on the ground. Instantly the Pirate and the Clown swarmed up the side bars, each using their free hands to pluck at the waistband of her bloomers, the Prussian ascending several of the chair steps to help the pair of rogues in removing this last vestige of decent covering.

Another few seconds passed and the maiden on top of the chair was being made to hold herself still again as her portrait was recorded with not a stitch on her but the short corset, a garment which covered her only from the hips up to the loosened top. The rapscallions in the masks crowded around the chair like spectators at a gallows awaiting a public hanging. The Prussian moved up the ladder until his head was between the girl's thighs, where he lifted up the mask so that his face was uncovered but still hidden from view. The mask he then pushed so far back over his head that it was pointing straight up in the air. After which he pressed his head in as far as he could into the space before him as he appeared to kiss her private parts. I gasped in surprise, but not nearly so much as the girl did.

It's true of course that such perverse variations on the normal relationships between male and female are well known in the East; indeed, there are temples in India which openly display carvings depicting even more unnatural depravities, difficult as this may be for any civilised mind to accept. But that I should ever see such actions being performed in public in a London suburb was beyond my comprehension. Neither could I understand why the man behind the upside down face of the Prussian was taking so long in simply placing a kiss on a woman's body, no matter how intimate the place he was choosing to assault with his lips.

Perhaps, I conjectured, he was biting her and causing her pain, for she soon seemed to be in some distress. She was unable to sit still, she seemed distracted, her hands went down to his head, then lifted up and -- apparently unaware or uncaring of the other watching males -- she plucked her bosoms out of the top of the corset, nipping the tips of them between her fingers as if attempting to find some relief from her distress. The camera was tilted up and she was apparently ordered to stay still for several seconds with her hands clutching at her own soft flesh, an order she seemed to find as difficult to obey as a command to stop shivering whilst sitting on an ice floe. Then, as soon as the picture was taken her heels began drumming on the back of the Prussian in a kind of devil's dance. A dance that came to an end in a squeal from her throat as if she was a rabbit caught by a ferret as her body arched like a drawn bow string just before the arrow is loosed. Indeed, the girl seemed to release some kind of pent up energy within herself at the highest point of her squeal and, save for the head still between her opened legs, might have slipped forward out of the chair in a half faint.

I can hardly say the horror I felt at being forced to watch such indignities being performed on a helpless female. Yet there was some dark spell cast by this evil which still held my own body in its thrall, a sorcery I could not break, an excitement which had the blood pounding inside my head as the Prussian replaced his mask, stepped down from the chair and pointed to Maude as the next girl to be displayed aloft as a captured trophy. Indeed, as Maude was taken towards the chair I had terrible visions of my heightened blood pressure breaking a vein in my nose and letting a betraying streak of red fall across my face.

In quick succession three things happened, events for which I wasn't prepared. The first was that Angela or Chrissie, whichever it was who had been on the chair, stepped off the ladder at the bottom with a look of wild arousal still on her face and smiled at the Pirate, the Indian and the Clown as they closed around her with outstretched hands. The second thing was that Miss Oakes's features seemed to hint at very much the same state of barely human passion as she was led forward by the Mandarin. Her clothing had not yet been interfered with, a state of affairs quickly altered as those of the gang amusing themselves with the newly descended girl abandoned her charms to encircle Maude. Only the Prussian stood aside with his arms folded as the other gang members stripped off Miss Oakes's garments with no great apparent hurry and some care. Surrounded by such an overwhelming presence, both they and she knew that resistance could achieve nothing.

The knot of men appeared to move closer to the chair, then parted a little as the Prussian approached. Clearly he was the leader of this pack of fiends. But such was my agitation at the scene I glimpsed at that moment that all other thoughts were as nothing. For between the figures I saw that Maude was bent forward with her head thrust between two rungs of the chair's ladder and powerful hands pushing down on her back prevented any attempt to raise herself from that position. The result was that the fairest sports lady in the Kingdom was bent forward from the waist, helpless to move, her hands gripping the side of the chair, the empty holster hanging from the bottom of her waist corset, now rucked so far up that the holster was almost underneath her waist. And not only was her entire lower body completely uncovered, one of her magnificent bosoms had tumbled out of its bodice cup to be looked upon and thoroughly fondled. I saw another brazen hand move in to release the matching pillow of silk skin from the confines of Maude's corset, I saw her quiver and rise on tiptoe as other hands slapped against the curves of her bared buttocks.

Then the men closed around her again, blocking my view of what was happening, and again I took an involuntary step, before I came to my senses and stopped again -- and then realised I hadn't stepped towards Maude but sideways. Not with some wild hope of rescuing her, but only to reach a better vantage point where I could see more clearly what was being done to her and what was about to be done. And, again, it was the Prussian who was giving the orders as Maude's heart rending cries were swept aside by his strong voice

One his acolytes, the Mandarin, stepped around the chair with a rapier in his hand and slashed through the bonds holding the other sister in place. She lifted up her hands in front of her, pulled off the severed loops of cord and looked at the man with the weapon. I couldn't see her expression but at a wave of the blade she went before him to stand at one side of Maude, facing across her back as her sister was summoned to meet her face to face. The men moved back a little as the recently released girl leaned forward over Maude so her sister could put her arms around her and undo the laces of her corset. Once the garment was loose the girl wearing it had bosoms gently lifted out over the top by her sister's hands, an act clearly well approved of by the audience. In the meanwhile the African and the Samurai were changing the camera plates as quickly as they could.

Again I heard Maude call out as her head was pulled back from the ladder, she was ordered to stand up and then turn around to confront her tormentors in her disrobed and disordered condition. With her hands hanging from her sides she made no attempt to cover herself, her eyes wide and rolling around her as if wondering in what direction and from which masked figure the next outrage against her person was to come from. Yet there were vices here which neither of us could have guessed at, for the Prussian spoke and Angel and Chrissie obeyed, no doubt convinced that they could not refuse even the vilest request put upon them. For both of them laid a hand on one of Maude's breasts and toyed with them in exactly the same way as the males had done.

I saw her magnificent figure lift itself on tiptoe in shock, truly like the very embodiment of a classical Goddess of Antiquity, and prepared myself to lift my stick and charge at the Prussian with the intention of dashing the leader's brains out. Until one of the blonde girls laughed and I also saw that Maude had put her arms around both of the sisters to return their caresses in kind. Now it was my turn to feel as if I'd been turned to stone, and frozen in position I remained as this extraordinary tryst continued. But even as the three girls were passionately pressing themselves against each other, even as they exchanged hot blooded kisses, the gang moved again to change the scene.

Angel and Chrissie were pushed aside and then Maude was lifted bodily from the grass, the Pirate and Mandarin with their arms underneath her back as she lay on them as if in a hammock, the nape of her neck pressed up against a rung on the ladder to keep her head raised high. The Clown and the Red Indian were also helping to support her weight, their palms underneath her bottom, the backs of her outstretched legs resting on each man's shoulders with the sides of her knees pressing against their necks. In such a position there could be no pretence of Miss Oakes retaining any shred of modesty. And certainly none to an onlooker standing only a few paces in front of her, as the Prussian was.

He laughed, pointed a finger at each hand at one of the sisters and crooked them in summons. Without a word being spoken the girls hurried to his side as if they were the slaves of some Eastern potentate. If he gave an order then I didn't hear it -- perhaps none was needed, for one of the sisters knelt to undo his shoe laces and the other to unbutton his shirt. Neither showed anything but cheerful eagerness in performing their task. Even he was stripped by the two beautiful girls the Prussian's gaze hardly ever strayed away from Maude's body as it continued to be held up for his inspection and delectation. Until his shirt and trousers were removed and thrown over the tennis net and then he glanced down. Down at the golden hair of the sister whom had knelt at his feet again to carry out an act of passion which no animal would perform. And when I saw the other hand maiden also kneeling down, to offer her opened mouth alongside that of her sister . . . not in India, not even in France had I believed such depravity to be capable of expression. And to do it in the open air, in full view of the other men.

What must be passing through Maude's mind at this spectacle I dared not imagine. Yet she was certainly not comatose with shock, as I expected, for she was wriggling and squirming on top of the arms and hands holding her. At first I thought this was because of the horror of the scene being enacted in front of her, and then I saw that the men with their hands under her buttocks were taking turns at touching the poor innocent girl in the most intimate place of all. No wonder she was gurgling deep in her throat and wriggling as violently as a broken backed snake. Where, oh where was Wiggins and his party rescuers?