The Boiler Room Ch. 03

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Steam punk fantasy.
6.9k words
4.29
7.6k
0

Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 06/20/2012
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Emily Booth is the the most famous burlesque dancer on the planet, her name is synonymous with provocative yet tasteful dancing, dancing that can only be truly appreciated by a man of restraint. She steps out of a giant bird cage wearing a finely fitting over bust corset extenuating her perfect elegant figure, On her fine long legs and shapely calves she has black pin-stripe stockings with frilly French suspenders and a ribbon over each thigh beneath which she has matching French lace underwear.

A black lace ribbon tied neatly in a bow offset to one side sits rests around her beautiful swan like neck. Her sweet facial features are subtly exaggerated with a little blush powder applied to her cheeks and she has a beauty spot painted with a china graph pencil just below the dimple on her left cheek drawing the eye to her bright vivid smile. a moderately applied layer of charcoal mascara around her long natural, curled eyelashes. Her mascara is complemented by a modest coating of gun smoke grey eye shadow. She has bright silver eyes that sparkle in the light.

She climbs off her swing and steps out of her giant bird cage, heading strait towards Fred as she gazes at him with a provocative smile. She stops only a foot away from him then leans forward towards him. Her chin up forming a flat line from the tip of her chin down her neck and chest to perfect bust, fully exposed to a view from the above angle. The spectacle beguiling on the hundredth occasion as it was in the very first experience.

Her sweet full lips with their smooth sharp contrast against her complexion now only a few inches from his own as she slowly closes her eyes for what seems like an eternity compared to a normal blink. She puckers her lips going in for the kiss, instead she kisses the air, teasing him before standing upright again and turning to her right slightly incline.

Her smooth sleek lines curved like a magnificent sculpture, as she stands there, both her firm buttocks and pert breasts visible from this perspective. She winks at him placing one hand on her right buttock as she blows him a kiss with her left followed by a short coy giggle and a wink. She stands there swaying her hips slowly, tantalisingly close, only and arms length away.

Bringing both hands up to her front she caresses herself, the fingertips of both hands gliding all the way up from her belly button up to the top of her corset where they stop, hovering just above the top clasp as she gives him a mischievous grin. She starts to slowly unbuckle the top clasp with a pop, then the next one, all the way down in succession, pop- pop- pop- pop. With the unclasping of th final clasp she parts her arms like an eagle spreading its wings and lest the corset fall to the floor. Beneath it she is wearing a fish net body stocking that perfectly hugs her shapely figure and a a pair of black feather nipple tassels.

Fred starts to slouch in her fine red leather arm chair he stole or rather acquired from the officers mess. Just then a small droplet hits him on his fore head and he looks up just as another drip falls hitting him in the eye and flowing down the side of his nose. He wipes his face and curiously takes a sniff. Strangely it does not smell of water, it has a more appealing, musky scent to it. Reaches over to a vintage black and white wireless set in a fine mahogany cabinet. Both doors already open he presses the pause button.

The perfect image could easily be mistaken for a real women wearing black lipstick as she stands there now frozen, her chest fully exposed as she stands there spread eagle. He restored the wireless set himself. Its an old model, no one uses black and white any more but it is more reliable and the picture quality is far better than the grainy image of a modern colour design.

He has only just bought the Emily Booth boxed set vinyls when they were at port in Liverpool and this is the first disk in the collection. He hasn't seen any of them yet and he seems annoyed at this sudden interruption to his viewing pleasure. He looks very at home on his comfortable red chair , feet up on an empty crate. To look at him you wouldn't know that he was in a large but cluttered and noisy engine room, you would think that he was in a lounge.

He pulls open a draw in a cabinet next to his wireless and picks up a small tobacco chest and a pipe, he flips the lid up and breathes in deeply through his nose. inside is a partition, one side is full to the brim with vanilla tobacco, the other with herb. He fills the pipe up with tobacco and then crumbles a generous helping of herb on top. He strikes a match and inhales, taking a deep drag of herb.

Aziz the apprentice is the only other person in the room, he is polishing a brass regulator when he catches a whiff of herb. "Fred that's your third one this week!" Fred stares at him with a blasé look on his face. "So!"

"It's Monday!"

"...Open the extractor will you." The engine room has an extraction system to remove any nauseous gases from the engine and remove the smell of chemicals from the passengers quarters, it is also very affective at removing the smell of herb and tobacco too- very convenient in a ship where smoking is banned below deck. Aziz steps up onto a work bench in front of the window and pulls the leaver to start the extraction fan then gets back to polishing the regulator.

Fred takes another drag on the pipe and slouches into his chair with a sigh. He stares at the projection, mesmerised by the exotic beauty before he has another whiff of his fingers, "Hmm...It looks like water but it has a very slightly greasy consistency like thin oil or melted butter.... Coolant perhaps?' He murmurs to himself unable to distinguish the smell for sure over the smell of grease and engine oil permeating his hands. "What?" shouts Aziz. "Oh nothing...I think there might be a coolant leak in the first class deck"

Or at least he thinks it might be coolant. He considers tasting it but decides not to in case it is coolant and wipes it on his coveralls instead. Another drop lands right in his pipe and puts out his prize winning herb. Herb, like opium, Tobacco and absinthe are very expensive and listed under controlled substances, hard to get hold of and highly taxed when bought legitimately. Just an ounce of his gourmet substance is worth a weeks wages and he may have just lost an eighth of that, he is not happy, then again he can always grow more.

Fred is the ships engineer, he lives in the engine room of the cruiser, he has been working as the ships chief engineer since the day it was commissioned and served along side the ships captain when they were both in the Royal Navy. The captain, while strict has complete faith in Fre'd's competence as an engineer and has given Fred and his team a lot more leeway than the rest of the crew.

There are sketches and designs for various contraptions and improvements to the ship as well as the odd print of a pin up girl here and there showing a little shoulder of thigh with a cute smile or cheeky grin. Scattered everywhere throughout the engine room is a whole host of tools and machines. Piles of dust, filings and swath make the room appear more like an old workshop than the engine room of s white star liner flag ship.

Fred and his small staff of two technicians and an apprentice have become a little crew in their own right often taking charge of the ship while in port, supervising the restocking and fitting while in dry dock the rest of the crew are on leave. While not a real gentleman he is next in line for first officer of the ship however he loves his job and probably wont accept it.

Sometimes however he gets bored and when everything is running smoothly it can actually be a most monotonous lifestyle. He passes the time by restoring old technology he buys cheap at auctions such as his black and white wireless and by proposing and installing modifications to the ship. The captain usually approves if only to give his staff something to do again.

He has already increased the ships speed by ten percent and he and his apprentice have given up their quarters in favour of permanent residency in the engine room, their quarters becoming little more than a store cupboard, the booming engine no louder than background radiation on a crystal radio to him now. When all else fails he has a vast collection of erotic vinyl and a secret lover to keep him busy.

The ceiling drips one last time.

"Drat!" did you see that boy?" Aziz looks up oblivious. "See what?" Fred points up to the ceiling. "The ceiling is leaking."

"I thought you said the guys checked the pipes last week? " Aziz says as he carries on polishing. "Well it doesn't look like it does it?" Fred stands up reluctantly and walks over to a telephone mounted on the wall next to the door. He winds up the crank and picks up the receiver then dials the other two members of his staff in the main workshop.

"Workshop."

"Can you men check the pipes for me please?" There is laughing at the other end of the telephone. "I didn't know you were into that sort of tripe sir!" He can almost see them grinning.

"Shut up you dirty dog, did you check the ruddy pipes last week?"

"Steady on...Yes we did it last week Fred."

"Well its leaking again."

"It can't be, we checked it...must be a washer."

"Well go and fix it."

"We can't we have to get the main theatre holovision working by tonight."

"Fine!"

He hangs up the voice piece and picks up a tool box on a bench under the telephone. "Do I have to do everything myself! Come on boy." Aziz's face lights up at the prospect of doing something other than cleaning and he runs over to Fred. Fred looks at a chart on the wall to see which room is directly above. A deck, first class, room number 47. He makes his way through the door towards the stairs and Aziz follows.

He knocks on the door, there is no answer so he waits a few seconds and knocks again. Still no answer, he walks over to a telephone alcove in the wall and calls the porter. "Porter."

"Yes."

"There anyone staying in room 47?" He thinks to himself, 'please say no please say no.'

"Yes, shall I connect you?"

"No thank you, its aright I'm right outside they might not be in." He walks back over to the door and knocks even harder, still no answer. "Hello...is there anyone there? It's engineering, we need to take a look at the plumbing in your room." Lady Ritzdale sits up suddenly still short of breath. She clumsily tries to pick her damp panties up off the floor and puts them on quickly. She can feel a cold wet patch over her vulva as she walks over to the door. She takes a look through the peep hole as Fred rolls up on his heels waiting his hands in his pockets waiting for an answer. He must have heard her shuffling.

He thinks he can hear something but he doesn't like the idea of going into an occupied room without permission and prefers to assume that there is no one there. He wants to walk away but he really needs to get it fixed. He takes out a skeleton key and opens the door. His eyes almost explode as he is greeted by a scantily clad Lady Ritzdale wearing nothing but stockings French knickers and a corset, she has a small pistol strapped to her thigh and room a somewhat familiar musky scent to it. He manages to compose himself despite the incredible sight of such an incredibly beautiful and provocatively dressed woman.

Aziz's jaw drops as he sees this beautiful woman in her underwear. "Sorry, there was no answer...believe there may be a leaking pipe somewhere here..." He looks over at the small wet patch on the floor and nods at it. She blushes and looks nervously away, bashfully looking at the floor, then she pulls a perplexed face. "Oh no, I'm sorry I...spilled something on the floor that's all." She catches a whiff of herb. "Have you been smoking herb?" Fred panics. He points at the pistol and says. "I wont tell if you don't!" She smiles at Aziz who is still gazing at her hypnotised. "It's a deal."

Fred can't help but join Aziz in the staring as he notices the glistening, silky wet patch on her knickers, he stands there for an awkward and undue amount of time, lady Ritzdale wonders if he has anything else to say whist stood there with a sense of ambiguity. Most men seem to think that women can't see where they are looking yet it was quite apparent where there eyes where. It was quite unnerving and embarrassing standing there with a wet patch on her knickers yet at the same time it was also incredibly flattering to see them so easily aroused by the sight of her wet quim, tantalisingly visible through her French lace.

­Fred snaps out of it and looks over at Aziz drooling over the incredible sight whilst simultaneous realising that it was quite apparent what they were up to. "Well be best be off then." Fully recovered from his dream state he proceeds to literally slaps Aziz out it. "You too you little pervert." Fred takes one last glimpse at her V before he looking her in her in the eye as if it never happened, smiling like a Cheshire cat. She smiles back as if giving condolences and he becomes affixed to her perfect crystalline eyes. He stare too long again and ends up admiring her beautiful lips instead.

He knows he should be gone by now but he can't help looking at her, she reminds him of his secret lover. He thinks to himself. 'This is getting award time to go!' and he finally breaks her spell. Grabbing Aziz by the shirt he drags him back a step so that they are clear of the doorway "...Good day." She closes the door and Aziz and Fred look at each other with a huge grin. As if to say. 'Did you see that!'

Fred takes out his pocket watch and looks at the time, it is five minutes past the hour of four. He hands Aziz the tool box. "On you go boy, I'll check on you later make sure you're OK." Aziz runs off down the corridor and Fred walks off in the opposite direction. He keeps going until he reaches a stairwell near the stern of the ship and then goes down a spiral stair case. There is a plain door with the number 228 written on it. He knocks three times.

A member of staff opens the door, a young good looking American ship maid. She looks a little surprised but very pleased to see him. "You're two hours early!" She smiles and they both look to the left and the right, making sure the coast is clear and then he hugs her like a child with a rag doll before they embrace and kiss romantically.

"I know but I have a couple of hours free and I'm really in the mood!" He picks her up and carries her inside, slamming the door behind them. She laughs out loud, kicking her legs back like a hoarse. "I've just finished work. I want to get ready and look nice for you." He carries her strait over to her bed and lays down on top of her. "But you always look nice and Martha is not back until eight!" She looks him in the eye with a mischievous look. "Yes we have four hours all to ourselves!"

He kisses her, biting her bottom lip as he pulls away whilst he peers into her mischievous eyes. She giggles and wraps her arms around him as they kiss again, deeply, more passionately this time. His hands creep down the sides of her narrow waist and stop at her hips, gently creeping around to her front. He tickles her and she laughs then gazes at him again. She takes one hand off him and places it between his legs, grasping onto his increasing package through his boiler suit.

Both still fully dressed, she takes her hands off him and starts to slowly unbutton his boiler suit. He unties her apron and pulls up her maids dress and petticoat, exposing her abdomen. He blows a raspberry on her belly and then glimpses down towards her tight young passageway. "You're not wearing any underwear!" She grins. "Well I knew you would be...coming!" He strokes his hand over her thigh and grabs a small hip flask, bound to her thigh with a frilly elasticated band.

I certainly hope so, I do enjoy coming with you!

He opens it and takes a swig before passing it to her"You come very prepared!" She giggles and takes a swig then closes the lid and tosses it to one side. He kisses her belly and starts kissing her lower and lower , she puts her head up, taking a quick look at the top of his balding head before she pulls her dress and petticoat up over her head, leaving them in a pile above her head so that she if left wearing nothing but her shoes, stockings and a frilly black bra.

Her body fully liberated she pushes him down with both hands, forcing him to bury his head even further between her legs and smothering him. "Kiss me." He presses up against the bed, forcing his head up for air. "I was kissing you."

"Kiss me passionately." She says with a sweet undeniable innocent smile. She does not even know the proper term for cunnilingus yet or any other of it's crude euphemisms.

Her body is so young and elegant. It is the envy of a lot of women and the desire of many men. It makes the older but non the less still beautiful women remember when they were the object of desire. Such women would often stop and complement her. Secretly she wished that she had the courage and the confidence to approach a man and maybe one day have a sweet heart

Her eighteenth birthday was not three weeks ago, she was still an innocent prude virgin then. It was Fred who deflowered her though had no malicious intent to corrupt her. They met through a friend who bought a gallon of Freddy's ship made moonshine (tax free of course) for her birthday party and invited him along. He mocks her light heartedly "You are so sweet and innocent" She just pulls a mischievous face and forces him back down below.

He purposely caresses her with his stubbly chin making her giggle. The laughter soon subsides and turns into a groan as he starts to kiss her other lips and dips his tongue inside. He starts to nibble on her lips and then wriggle his tongue as deep inside her as he can. Alternating between the two he continues for a few more seconds, delving his tongue inside her sweet honey pot before focusing on her nub.

The feeling of his hot breath and the sharp swarthy rubbing of his stubble makes her hmm in approval. "Mmmm...don't tease me." Not wanting to pause for thought (or breath for that matter) he continues. Lapping at her fountain like a lizard at a watering hole, tasting the cool water with the tip of it's tongue. Then he begins to pleasure her proper and she applies more force to his head to ensure he doesn't stop. He carries on for a while then stops abruptly.

"Right, lets get your engine running, see if there are any emissions!". He pulls his goggles down and takes a deep breath as if drowning. and buries his head between her legs. She bursts out in a fit of laughter. "you are such a big kid!" Busy enjoying his meal he hums in response "Mmm Hmm."

Next he licks her slit all the way up like a cat grooming itself or a child licking an ice cream. He envelops her gem in is mouth gently clamping it in his teeth as he lightly sucks on it. She groans even louder. "Mmmm I've been waiting all day for this." He starts to wriggle his head between her legs tickling her with his moustache and she clamps his head in place using her thighs like a vice her legs.

He begins massaging her lump with his tongue and her hips rock slowly. After a while he moves his hands, underneath her firm buttocks, grasping them tightly as if to hold her down in order to prevent her from floating away. His tongue gets a little tired and he starts to move his entire head instead, his moustache tickling her inner thigh and vulva as he makes her squirm even more. His firm grasp of her buttocks anchoring her down as she squirms, rolling her hips and becoming more and more short of breath.

Every now and then his goggles catch her abdomen and she feels the edge of the cold brass housing . He begins to suck on her gem even harder drawing his teeth along its hood as he tickles it with his tongue and occasionally kissing it covering his face in her juices. He can feel the moisture of her damp never region all over his face. He removes his hands from her bottom and uses them to part her vulva, exposing her engorged pearl even more before he takes it back into his mouth, lightly clamping it between his teeth, his mouth a pair of sugar tongues, her nub a rock of sugar.

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