The Gentleman's Accomplice Ch. 03

Story Info
The Third Chapter of the adventures of Sir Douglas.
4.8k words
4.62
15.6k
0

Part 3 of the 8 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 07/15/2009
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Chapter Three

Ruminations - Sir Douglas ponders his next course of action.

Sir Douglas had retired to his study. This was his inner sanctum, the place that was a source of both inspiration and protection, where he would ponder, write and record events as they occurred. This is where he came to think and he would often be found there by Onna in the early hours of the morning, working away at a current investigation or project requiring his attention.

It was a large room, with space for couch and several leather reading chairs and a desk. The desk had been shipped back from China at great expense as it was a symbol of one of the most significant events in his career, which had been the capture of the Chinese Pirate One Eyed Lung, who ship the Iron Dragon had been captured intact by Sir Douglas in a daring action in the middle of the night. On board had been many tons of silver, enough to ensure that Sir Douglas would never have to be concerned with money again. The desk had been made with the timbers on the forecastle, where Sir Douglas had killed the One Eye in hand to hand combat and the wood had absorbed enough of his blood on the day that he had decided to keep it with him.

Along the walls were many volumes that many librarians would not recognise. A friend of the Royal Library had alerted Sir Douglas to the sale of many of the volumes that now graced the walls of his study. This books ranged from economic treaties, including the unpublished final chapters from the book "On War" by Carl Von Clausewitz through to many works of esoteric lore that were only duplicated deep in the vaults of the London Museum.

Included in his collection was a collection of erotic photographs that Sir Douglas was perusing. Sir Douglas was not sure that photography would catch on as an art form, as it seemed to fail in capturing the essence or spirit of a situation in a way that a talented artist could. However, as had witnessed the speed of technological change increase over the years, he believed that it was quite possible that even the days of the horse were probably fading away.

The photographs were of a man having with a particularly enormous penis having his way with a voluptuous minx who seemed to be in the first few images finding the size of the organ she was accommodating rather daunting. However by the final photographic plate image she seemed to be having no difficulty in placing all of its enormous length into her, so Douglas made a mental note to see if he could arrange to meet the young "artistic model" and acquire some more of these photographic images.

Putting this material to one side, he pulled the bell pull that hung along the wall next to his chair to summon Onna. As he waited, he thought about the circumstances of her entering his service.

Sir Douglas had recently returned from Asia, having been sent there to provide an assessment of the fighting techniques and capability of the Japanese, who were currently at war with Imperial Russia. There had been the usual Foreign Office contempt of the "Yellow Peril", but some of the more far sighted of Sir Douglas colleagues had once again requested his services.

He had been assigned as a naval observer once he had arrived in Japan and the Japanese Government had been very happy to accommodate him. They were very proud of their modern navy and wanted to ensure that Imperial England was aware that they were very much in the forefront of naval development. Sir Douglas was present at the Battle of Tsushima where the Russian fleet was utterly destroyed and was also in Tokyo during the festivities celebrating this great Victory.

While in Tokyo, Sir Douglas allowed himself to be diverted by his newfound Japanese friends into the seamier underbelly of Tokyo, into the "Flower District" and the taverns and gambling houses there. Sir Douglas was always there when possible, losing money at gambling and drinking, often employing the courtesans of the district for his amusement. As a "degenerate foreigner" he found himself on several occasions approached for favours or information which he was often very happy to supply.

Once he let it be known that he was returning to England, much to the dismay of the proprietor of his favourite gambling house, he was approached with the offer of a serving girl to take back with him to England. After the usual negotiations he accepted Onna into his service and she boarded the Royal Navy mail ship with him.

Sir Douglas had made arrangements with the Ship's Captain as soon as he had first laid eyes on the woman. She was five foot five, with a willowy figure, beautiful in the way that oriental women appeared to the Western eye, but Sir Douglas was not the alcohol sozzled fool that he had been playing. His trained eye detected the small signs that he was looking for in Onna's demeanour. The obvious strength in her wrists and hands, the small but telltale scars that were present on her hands and arms as well as the strength of character that was clearly there beneath the downcast eye and plaint demeanour of an oriental serving girl.

Once their baggage had been stowed away, Sir Douglas had her stay with him as they watched the city of Tokyo disappear into the distance as they left Japan, allowing her one last glimpse of her homeland as it disappeared beneath the waves. He then took her on a tour of the ship. Once they were within one of the larger storage bays in the front of the ship, he locked the door behind them and turned facing her squarely.

Onna was startled when he spoke to her in a halting but understandable Japanese, telling her that he knew that she was not what she pretended to be. Removing his jacket and tie and placing them on one of the benches next to the door, he told her that he was going to ensure that she learnt very quickly what she was really dealing with; that he was going to make sure that she understood that to avoid a long swim home, then she would need to discuss it with him.

Onna knew that they were too far away from Japan for her to make it back by swimming, so when Sir Douglas approached her she attacked. Pulling a very wicked stiletto from her obi, the wide band of cloth that acted as a belt around her waist, she thrust for his heart. It was only Sir Douglas's extensive years of military service that saved his bacon then, as it was he was left bleeding from a shallow gash in his chest "First blood to her" he thought.

Onna followed up this attack with several quick kicks to his left thigh that almost caused the leg to buckle underneath him. "Careful" Douglas thought, "This fire cat is going to be the death of me if I'm not fast on my feet". Feinting with a slow punch with his left hand, he pretended to buckle on his left leg and in a thrice Onna was on top of him cutting for his throat.

Sir Douglas had been trained in classical wrestling and was able to grab Onna's extended arm and pull her within his arms. While Sir Douglas was not particularly tall for a Westerner, he towered over the smaller Japanese woman and was able to use his broad shoulders and upper body strength to great effect, grappling with Onna until she was caught in a stranglehold, with his biceps squeezing the ceratoid arteries in her neck. The vixen had wriggled like a ferret when caught, but at the last moment she pulled a long lacquered hair pin from her head and stabbed him in the thigh with it.

Sir Douglas felt the bite of the steel pin entering his thigh and from the reaction in his muscle could tell that there was something coating the red steel spike that had previously been innocently placed in Onna's hair. "I've been poisoned by better than the likes of you!" he said in her ear as her struggles grew fainter and fainter until she lapsed into unconsciousness. Sir Douglas waited until he was absolutely sure she was out before dropping her rudely to the decking, wincing as he took the steel spike from his right thigh. "Bitch!" he said as he looked closely at the sinister weapon. It did not appear to be coated with anything, so whatever had been placed in his bloodstream must have been concealed in the tip. He cautiously licked his finger and then ran it along the end of the steel spike and then tasted it to see if there was any residue. Fortunately, he couldn't taste any of the poisons that he was familiar with and if it was going to kill him, well it was too late to do anything about it.

Utilising some rope that he had placed here for this very purpose, he tied Onna to some metal fittings along the wall that were usually used to secure cargo netting. Sitting down, he took off his clothes to inspect the damage. Ignoring the throbbing headache that was developing, probably as a result of the poison in Onna's needle, he looked at the extensive bruising along both legs and arms as well as the cuts and slices through his flesh. Looking at the now seemingly frail woman tied to the wall by her hands and feet, he was forced to rethink his assessment of her as just another set of eyes and ears sent to spy and report back on his activities. If he had been Japanese, it would have been most likely that she would have overcome and then killed him by one method or another. As it was, his extraordinary natural resilience that had saved him from many a tropical fever had helped him once again. Judging by the throbbing of his head and the burning feeling entering his eyes which were clearly becoming bloodshot, it would be no easy matter to recover from this poison that was making its way through his system, but he doubted that it would kill him.

Leaving the room after checking that Onna was properly secured, he locked the door in the ships bulkhead and on his way back to his room, he arranged with one of the ship's midshipman to mount a guard on the door, with strict instructions to ignore any sounds from within and to ensure that Onna could not leave.

On entering his cabin, Sir Douglas opened his travelling chest and took several medications that he had brought with him from the subcontinent. Some, like the few drops of the purified liquid of the opium poppy would help with the pain, while the powdered herbs he took with some distilled water would help combat the poison's side effects. With a loud groan, he fell into his bunk to sleep and drifted off into an intense blackness that he was not sure he would ever awake from.

Onna's return to consciousness came later that afternoon. The blows and chokehold that she had received from Douglas had almost killed her, of that she was certain. She hoped that the poison derived from the chrysanthemum that was contained in the small needle at the end of her lacquered hair pin had killed the overgrown monster who had attacked her.

She was furious and ashamed at having underestimated the barbarian oaf that she had been assigned to. She had watched him carefully in the weeks leading up to her placement with him, studying his speech, moods and actions very carefully. While he was clearly a very physical person, with an active life and an extraordinary capacity for drink, he had given absolutely no evidence of being anything other than an oversized and stupid Westerner.

Onna had been briefed by the male spies who had accompanied Sir Douglas into China, as a female she had been unable to follow and they had all been very complimentary of Sir Douglas's courage when he had been exposed to enemy fire. He had also not flinched at the slaughter of the Russian Army as they had made a point of providing him with a guided tour throughout the battlefield after the Victory. They had also told of his drinking and his continuing gambling with them and other Officers from both the Imperial Army and Navy, with the subsequent extensive losses from Sir Douglas's almost endless purse.

Onna had even watched one evening when Sir Douglas had slept with one of the Courtesan's of the willow district. He wasn't aware that he was with a woman of the fourth class, in itself a kind of insult that he had not been aware of. She had watched him undress through a carefully disguised hole in the wall, curious as to what a Westerner would look like naked.

He had been hairy as all Westerners were, but there was something about his build that hinted at great strength. His shoulders were very broad with very long arms that were ropy with muscle. His thighs were broad too, with his manhood standing erect from a jutting thatch of black pubic hair, with his scrotum dangling beneath, large and full like a bulls. She had chided herself at her reaction to the sight of him, as she did not need any distractions, but could not help herself as she watched him mount the courtesan with an artlessly natural grace, that soon gave way to a furious thrusting that went on and on.

Onna new that the Courtesan had been chosen for her ability to handle the more violent and aggressive customer, but she was surprised by the natural vigour exhibited by Douglas as he continued to thrust in and out of the woman he had been given.

This seemingly interminable thrusting seemed to go on forever and the courtesan's professional moaning soon changed, from the more laughable theatrical response to one which soon grew hoarse with pleasure. Onna responded to the change in the courtesans tone as Douglas ravished her, unable to help herself she cupped her right nipple and squeezed tightly, clenching her thighs together and feeling the hot wetness that was beginning to seep from her womanhood

The courtesan was soon reduced to heavy gasps as she succumbed to the pleasure of the enormous cock that was pounding her sopping pussy. The liquid slapping of cock into quim, of balls against buttocks and of stomach against stomach haunted Onna as she began to rub her clitoris in time with the heavy thrusting. Then Douglas gave a huge groan as he emptied what must have been an immense amount of his juices into the courtesan while Onna shuddered in pleasure, biting her lip to ensure that she did not give herself away. Douglas rolled off the woman who lay there in a sexual stupor, obviously fucked into a state of sexual oblivion.

Onna later spoke to the owner of the brothel who was furious that one of his women had been used in such a way. She had to pay extra due to the bruising that the woman had received from Sir Douglas's heavy frame. She had also spoken directly to the courtesan later that day, to ask her how she had found him. The courtesan said that he had been like a wild animal and that she would not be taking clients for at least another month. She had also said with a shy smile that sex with the man had been how she had imagined riding a dragon would be like, full of wild sexual energy.

This had all left Onna with a very vivid impression of a typical Western soldier man, one who ate meat, drank too much and would probably be dead by his late forties if not killed on the battlefield. She had been violently surprised when he had spoken to her in passable Japanese and even more so when he had reached for her. She should have acquiesced, it would not be the first time she had been beaten or thrashed by someone she was openly working for, it had been part of her extensive training. Yet she had reacted violently, as if she had been fighting for her life, for her very existence. Surely the stupid man had no idea who she was or what she was capable of?

She pulled and wriggled within her bounds, but she found that the rope that had been entwined around her limbs and knotted intricately was beyond even her skills. She was normally quite adept with this but found that her limbs were held in just the right way to allow some movement and circulation but not enough to gain any traction with the ropes or the knots holding her in place. Looking at the way the ropes had been arranged, she realised that she had only seen something similar during her interrogation training with one of her teachers, a very frightening man who had been responsible for showing her how to quickly extract information from a person. This made her realise that she was dealing with someone very experienced in restraining people without hurting them, something that was dramatically at odds with the impression she realised she had been deliberately given in the months leading up to their departure.

In simple terms, she had been tricked in the same way that she herself had tricked many an unsuspecting victim. She knew that this would end with her death, but she promised herself that she would do her best to take as many of these westerners with her before she was killed on this boat. She had given her hair and fingernails to her Shinto shrine at her home village several years ago, so she knew that her kami, her spirit self would find its way back to Japan, so steeling herself with that knowledge, she began plotting her escape.

The day passed slowly for Onna, her body grew dank with sweat and she vomited over herself due to the incessant motion of the ship. As each hour passed, the lack of water began to tell, making her feel more unwell and more dizzy as the day went by. When night fell she could tell that she was getting weaker by the hour. She sensed that there was someone guarding the door and she groaned and made other noises of distress, hoping to lure this person into the room and possibly loosen her bonds. However no matter what noises she made or pleas that she made in Japanese or English, nobody entered the room.

As the night progressed she was forced to relieve herself while she was still bound, something that she found distressing. Ensuring that she kept her focus, she slipped into a meditative trance and began exercising her muscles individually, making sure that she maintained circulation and sanity in the face of her predicament.

She fell asleep at some point during the night and woke again the next day. The movement of the ship was more disorientating to her and her head felt as tight as a drum. Her pulse drummed at her temples and she fought the constricting ropes that held her against the side of the cargo hold. She panicked at one point, feeling like an insect trapped in a web waiting for the spider to return, but soon even that emotion petered out. She lay there sagging in her ropes, feeling drained of all energy. Douglas woke in the late afternoon of the second day. The ships Doctor had been summoned during the previous night as he had not appeared for dinner with the ships officers. The Doctor knew enough to know that Douglas had medicated himself and was wise enough to let the healing process continue without undue interference, but checked him again the next day to make sure that his condition had not become worse.

Douglas assured him he was ok and examined the stitching on the slashes in his chest and arms that the Doctor had done. He had a long drink of water and slowly dressed, preparing himself for the first real step in the interrogation of Onna. He was convinced that he had inadvertently ensnared a specialist, the sort of rare breed of killer and spy that was only rarely encountered. This would provide its own unique challenges and opportunities, but he would need to be very careful with his next few steps or it would be entirely possible that he would find himself at the wrong end of the knife!

Dressing carefully in a loose cotton shirt and pants, he walked barefoot to the forward cargo hold where Onna was secured. He ordered the marine on duty at the door to bring him several buckets of sea water and entered the cargo hold. The room was filled with the stench of vomit and urine and Douglas opened some portholes and the door to let the sea breeze carry the stench away.

Checking to see her condition, Douglas noted that Onna was barely conscious. Taking his knife, he began to carefully cut away her clothing. He carefully searched the clothing for anymore hidden surprises, then threw it out the porthole as they were ruined and were generally of fairly poor quality anyway. Using the sea water buckets that were brought to him, he cleaned Onna's body and dismissing the marine who was quietly agog at seeing a naked Japanese woman tied against the hold, he brought some fresh potable water over and began slowly giving this to Onna, a sip at a time.

12