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All of them had been effected by the night of Faeries’ vernal ball, but perhaps most so was Redmayne. For the next couple of days he found himself unable to look at either of his undisputed favourites. He blushed heavily in their company which was to their great amusement, so much so that on one occasion they both collapsed into a fit of uncontrollable giggling when he chanced upon them in the archives. Which of course only served to further increase his embarrassment. Despite this, he felt closer to them now than he ever had before; henceforward the two of them would be his exclusive partners whenever he needed some relief from the stresses of his job. He was happy though for them to pursue other distractions than himself when they felt the need, if he was unavailable.
Not a little to his relief, two days after their return he was able to attend a secret conference in Bucharest on “Das Wampyre, Thraldom and Servitude” which would absent him from London for the better part of a fortnight.
Perhaps least effected by recent events was Rowena, despite now knowing She would never be invited back to Faerie – which on occasion did tinge Her with some sadness – She was able to go about Her duties with almost no distraction. The same though could not be said for Rachel, who felt an acute sense of loss on knowing She could never visit again. She was also now somewhat fixated upon Anya; the strapping representative of the Clockwork Guild. As yet Her subtle research into the Valkyrie with the mechanical arm had produced very little information beyond the fact that she was know to the Bureau and that her role with the Guild was in the manner of a mercenary. Rachel had the unvoiced hope that this might mean that one day Anya might be persuaded to change her allegiance…
Redmayne’s departure had been sudden and due to his embarrassment he had not wanted to announce his absence to the girls. They correctly surmised though – since he had not even left a note - this was because he was too self conscious to even offer his farewells. With a delicious wickedness Rowena and Rachel very quickly decided that on his return they would be reminding him of their shared experience at the ball in an entirely penetrating way. Over the first week of his absence the two of them secured a private office and since their duties during this time were slight one or both of them could generally be found there beavering away on a private project. At the commencement of this there was much delightful recollection and discussion of the impressive organs they had temporarily found themselves in possession of. Once the intimate details were discussed, noted thoroughly and finalised they requested the assistance of the on staff sketch artist; Nicholas Conway whose blushes soon became amusement when their scheme was related to him. Next they secured the help of a young sculptress Madeline Driscoll who was still more ridiculously pleased to be of assistance, her expert hands modeled two very detailed and phallic maquettes. These she would keep and treasure along with the tale of how the finished articles would be employed. 
Clay molds were made from the maquettes and from these the pair, after having borrowed a good proportion of the stocks of latex the Bureau held made several models of each. Ms Driscoll (out of professional pride) was very much involved with the testing of these and it was she who suggested the use of a harness which fitted comfortably about the loins to which the finished articles could be attached. The three of them spent a whole day in mutual and rigorous test of them, after which Rowena and Rachel were delighted by the work they had put in and anxiously awaited Redmayne’s return so that their new implements could be put to proper use.

Redmayne was of course entirely unaware of the artistic endeavours of the girls but even so far removed from them he was still finding it hard to concentrate at the conference. Even in lectures which he found genuinely fascinating, on more than one occasion he found his thoughts being drawn back to the Faerie realm and all that had transpired there. It was on the second time that this happened he realised suddenly how much he missed them both and that he regretted rushing off with so little forethought. 

Their little private project had kept Rowena and Rachel occupied for the better part of half of Redmayne’s absence. As is the nature of things though, the wider world and its mystery continued to revolve and strange unnatural things were abroad within it. The Bureau by its very nature needed to keep odd hours and as such at an unlikely very small hour on Sunday morning the girls were summoned to the office of the director of the Metropolitan department. (As the pre-eminent city in the world an inordinate amount of the Bureau’s investigations seem to be within London itself, so much so it warranted a whole department of its own.) Awaiting them was the massive quiet bulk of Travis as well as Ian Alderman the departmental head. Rachel had never actually met the giant before, though he was aware of and already fond of Her, to Rowena though his solid form was a source of great reassurance if he were to be on their team for this particular adventure.
As was his wont Alderman began with great care to load his overly long churchwarden pipe with his signature sweet exotic tobacco blend, as he exchanged pleasantries with the girls. Rowena was used to the time it took him to finally get to the reason for their presence. He seemed to enjoy the ritual of loading his pipe almost as much as the actual smoking of it. Thankfully Rachel was still too unsure of the hierarchy within the Bureau to dare try and hurry him up. In his own good time Alderman opened the manilla folder which was the only thing on the expanse of his maroon leather topped desk. He didn’t though do anything more than glance at the report within; evidently he was already well aware of its contents.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, in this great city of ours people die daily, by Nature’s subtle hand or by more direct involvement from others. For the most part when we cut to the bone of the thing; most of theses deaths simply don’t matter, but if they’re part of the government things change. I assume you’ll all be aware that there have been several deaths in the East End of late, this much having been in the papers. What we have thus far managed to suppress though is the fact that all have been drowned but found some distance from the river or docks. Further to this – and this little nugget of information only we and senior people at the Metropolitan Police are aware of- they have been drowned in semen…”
Here Alderman paused for effect, but if he assumed that the young women would be shocked he was disappointed, a red flush around the face and bull neck of Travis though travelled all the way up to the tips of his ears. The mouthpiece of his pipe now in the corner of his mouth and the bowl at the end of the long shank supported lovingly in his right hand, the elbow on his desk he continued;
“The government though have been chafing me to sort this out and confirm that there’s no political agenda here since the last victim of this was one of their own.”
Most of the rest of the drier details of who and where and their import to the Empire were entirely lost to both Rowena and Rachel. For both of them were lost in consideration of the logistics of such a drowning: If a person could be drowned in just three inches of water, or indeed semen. Even if the container for this was say, just the size of a dinner plate this would still represent a considerable volume and effort… Rachel’s attention returned to Alderman part way through a sentence;
“…nor as I understand it can Dr. Thorne find any defensive wounds or signs of a struggle. I’d like you to go down to the vaults and see if he can give you any further insights, all the other pertinent details are in the file. Good luck dear girls.”
With this he threw the folder across the desk toward Rowena who caught it deftly in Her off hand. Travis was already on his feet and moved loyally behind Her chair, a tall backed heavy thing in dark oak. With seemingly no effort he lifted both the chair and its occupant, pulling them back about a foot and a half, placed it back down and with an elaborate gesture of his left arm beckoned for Her to rise. Rachel got the feeling there had been an internal conflict concerning which of them he would so aid, and graced him with a pretty little smile anyway. Rowena led the trio out the door , but as they were leaving Alderman called after them;
“Do try and get this sorted as soon as possible Ro, the last thing we need is the Home Office breathing down our necks!”
It had been some while since Rachel had been to see Dr. Thorne. She had gone to see him during Her training with some willingness even eagerness for his speciality fascinated Her, whilst the good doctor (A tall gaunt man with a shock of pure white hair and a thin moustache that was a slightly darker grey.) was clearly brilliant Rachel had detected a certain reticence to his discussing anything he considered too complicated with Her. He also had a disconcerting manner of looking at Her, She was used to feeling as though men were undressing Her with their stare. Indeed She had engaged in such flights of fantasy Herself upon both Rowena and Redmayne, but the doctor She got the impression, was looking inside Her… This left Her feeling distinctly uncomfortable in his presence, which did though add a certain piquancy to their encounters.
Despite the time it took them to get to the vaults (The Bureau ranged across six stories, three of which were subterranean. Alderman’s office was five floors above Thorne’s troglodyte world.) nearly all their progress was in silence. Rowena did thank Travis for his manners and bestowed the lightest kiss upon his cheek which saw a rapturous smile now set upon his now heavily blushing face. It was also hard for him – being so prodigious as he was – to hide the fact if his loins became inflamed, which they most certainly did and both girls noted the slight change in his gait and smiled in amusement at it.

Redmayne was now becoming seriously frustrated by the inefficiency of Romanian railways, he positively ached to return to London and his girls. In England of course trains stick to pre-arranged timetables almost religiously, not so in the Balkans… Whilst there were published schedules here, it seemed these were very much more of a suggestion of intent, which had very little bearing on the time that trains themselves actually ran. Every delay, every change of train caused his frustration to become more and more acute. He began to see something of either Rowena or Rachel in every woman his glance fell upon; the graceful neck of Ro, the particular curve of Rachel’s divine little bottom. Each such sight became tortuous and drove his frustrated lust to still higher acuteness. He found himself achingly hard for long periods of time but despite this there was no desire to relieve himself without one or other or both of them to assist. When he got back the lust that fell upon whichever one of them he found first would be terrible indeed…

There was a distinct chill to the air by the time they were in the lowest level of the vaults and arrived at the worryingly reinforced door to Thorne’s laboratory. Rachel was already feeling a little tingle of apprehension, She was expecting the heavy door to open with an ominous creak but to Her surprise it swung open at the lightest touch. Only to be welcomed by a gust of still colder air from within Rachel shivered noticeably, to which Travis frowned but Rowena just managed to suppress a giggle.
The gaunt, tall form of the doctor was leaning over a sturdy table, upon which was the naked form of a short portly man. Without turning he brusquely instructed;
“Come and have a closer look at this , it’s actually rather fascinating.”
For whatever reason Travis elected to stay by the door but the two girls moved up to stand either side of Thorne. On the slab table in front of them was the rotund form of a man well into his middle years.  Without looking up Thorne addressed them again;
“See? As I explained; not a single defensive wound or sign of a struggle, but his lungs and his stomach seem to have been flooded with semen, fascinating isn’t it? Also , as I’m sure You aware, after death the bowels and bladder evacuate, but from what I can tell prior to those occurrences this gentleman seems to have ejaculated heavily. Actually much more heavily than I would expect someone of his condition and level of vigour to have been able to, I hope You two enjoy a mystery.”
With this he stood upright, turned and cast his penetrative gaze over each of them in turn starting with Rowena, the elder and more experienced of the two girls held his gaze for several seconds before he looked toward Rachel, She tried to meet his stare too. As soon as he did though She felt the lightest caress inside Her most intimate part and then a blush racing to Her cheeks. Whatever was said for the next few moments was entirely lost to Rachel; She stood meekly trying to ignore a presence within Herself She could in no way explain. By the time that Travis gently took Her elbow and escorted Her out, Rachel was without understanding why at the very brink of an achievement. Once the door was closed behind them as soundlessly as before, Rowena gathered up Rachel’s skirts and thrust an elegant hand to Her tight little cunny to cast the other girl over the brink of Her orgasm; relieving the terrible tension the doctor had gathered.
Rachel was still panting and leaning on Travis for support, since Her legs were buckling and incapable of supporting Her, as Rowena explained what had happened; the Bureau had long been interested in pseudo scientific research into development of the powers of the mind for its agents. This included; mesmerism, remote viewing, mental communication and the manipulation of matter by thought. By far the most proficient exponent of this last discipline was Dr. Thorne, who it was said could lift things of nearly half an ounce just through the power of his mind. He could exert a very slight force on small objects or even, as in this case slight manipulation of the flesh. Apparently he had pledged to never do this to any male member of the Bureau, with the assumption that as a gentleman he wouldn't even consider doing so to the female staff. Unfortunately he was also in much demand in a teaching capacity and the Bureau were loathe to lose his services. As such whilst there had been two complaints about his behaviour toward women here, he remained on staff with no more than a “quiet word in his ear” about it. Rowena though had now come to the conclusion that if the organisation would do nothing officially She most certainly would. This though would be for another day, since now they had enquiries to make in and around the docks.

Each hour brought Redmayne a little closer to London and his dear girls, he was now finding it hard to concentrate on anything except them. This of course had the obvious effect upon his body though and he was thus finding it necessary to wear a heavy coat or have it folded on his lap to hide his regard for them. His desire was becoming harder and harder to deny, but he still could not even consider anyone but them. There was a gypsy girl in Vienna with reddish hair and zaffre blue eyes who brought Rowena very much to mind. Her limbs though were not so svelte and she was perhaps three inches too tall. To any other man this girl would have been a prize indeed, but to Redmayne she was but a pale copy of who it was he wanted...

Being as it was at this stage merely intelligence gathering Rowena did not see fit to go via the quarter master section, considering that all of them were already adequately provided for with the resources they already had to hand. Supposedly the police were protecting the scene of the crime, so they could investigate it themselves. Travis despite his size showed some skill as a sketch artist, but if needs be they could also summon the Bureau's daguerrotypist. On returning to street level there was already a Hanson cab waiting, which raised a wicked little smile on Rowena's sweet face. If they were all to travel together, someone would have to sit on Travis's lap, and on realising this he blushed obviously which delighted Her all the more. Rachel sat daintily down and on squeezing his bulk in beside Her, the cab settled very much to his side, still more so when Rowena clambered on to his lap. There was already a solidity there which She slowly massaged with Her pert little bottom for the entirety of the journey, whilst She chatted away to Rachel. By the time they arrived in the anonymous East End street where the distinguished MP had been found Travis was in an obvious state of some distress and Rowena found Herself a little flushed and slightly dampened at the thought.

The street in which they found themselves felt somewhat like a chasm, situated as it was between two three storey warehouses. There was only scant illumination and all there was of that was dim, alarming shadows were cast by a flickering gas light in a grubby red glass at the far end. The two police constables that had been posted here looked less than confident about their presence and to some degree had proved counter to their purpose. Since a small group of agitated and concerned people were gathered around them and were obviously dissatisfied that their questions were going unanswered. The street was permeated by a stench of mud, stagnant water and other less identifiable things, the horse that had pulled them here was showing signs of distress. Wide eyed and nostrils flaring, its fidgeting hooves striking sparks from the cobbles. Concerned for the a****l Rowena instructed the cabman to wait for them outside a shabby gin palace a couple of streets away. He was somewhat reticent to do so but Her slightly lowered eyelids and promising smile convinced him to agree. The horse itself was only too pleased to leave the chasm of a street and rounded the last corner slightly faster than was really safe.
Together they approached, their advance being followed by the suspicious glances of most of the crowd they were though silent until the trio were close enough to hear their concerns. The constables were visibly reassured by the advent of someone seemingly in authority. Rachel and Travis moved confidently forward, all smiles and faced the crowd to give what answers they could to a barrage of questions. Merely by arriving they had eased the situation somewhat, so Rowena could now question the constables and consider the scene without further distraction.
Neither one of the two young constables was happy about being here, being lowly beat officers they simply did not have the experience to know how to defuse the crowd. They were almost pathetically grateful for the Bureau’s aid as well as already being excited that it came in such an appealing form. With efficient questions Rowena soon discovered that they had arrived with the coroner and had been hoping to leave with him, but instead had been tasked with safeguarding the scene till investigators arrived. When the body had been found it had already been stripped of valuables, shoes and coat - as would be expected in this poorer area of the city – but was lying in a “pool of semen”. (Which was probably all that had prevented the locals from taking clothing as well.) Ro asked to be shown exactly where, but oddly there was now scant evidence of this pool now remaining.
It might not really have been in Her power to do so, but Rowena considered that the police were of no further aid suggested they return to their station. Neither one needed to be told twice and it also seemed that Rachel and Travis had now reassured the crowd sufficiently so that they too dispersing. None of them though had seen or at least had admitted to have seen anything out of the ordinary. There was though a tingling at the back of Rowena’s neck; something was just not right, there was a whiff of magic about the whole affair, old dark magic. Turning to Travis She requested one of his lucifers as She took a small twist of paper from Her pocket, carefully holding one end of it She struck the match and lit the other. Letting it fall produced a momentary intense scarlet flame and a wisp of pink smoke which lingered momentarily but though there was no wind, moved slowly toward the house with the red light.

Never before had Redmayne felt such a state of frustration. Whilst he was by no means handsome, he had an air of mystery and disarming self depreciating charm, that when utilised would almost invariably find him female company when he wanted it. Now, he most certainly wanted it but his wants were for two very particular shapes. Waiting at Calais with a sense of distance reduced to under a hundred miles his lazy u*********s stroking of his now almost permanently hard self came within a hair’s breadth of a crisis. It was only phenomenal willpower and the training he’d had in India that prevented him soiling his underwear spectacularly. Until he was home and had finally vented his terrible want upon those he desired his hands would now be clasped behind his back, but a noticeable bulge at his loins would precede him everywhere.

The colour of the flame had alarmed Rowena. Hot colours at the start of the spectrum meant old, old powerful magics; it seemed things might prove much more difficult than She’d originally imagined. The solid form of Travis was very close and She could feel his concern, Rachel though because of Her relative inexperience it seemed was not aware of the full significance of the red flame. Or so Rowena though, but the younger girl had paid careful attention to Her studies and did realise the potential dangers, She just did not wish to show Her concerns. Ro now warned Rachel as lightly as She could;
“Don’t go rushing headlong into this Sweetness, this is not a safe place, follow my lead, stay close to Travis and be prepared to retreat if we need to.”
With a cocky smile that belied Her concerns She knocked at the door from which the thick black paint was pealing just a little. After a moment’s delay and the sound of a heavy bolt being drawn back the door was opened widely and ruddy light flooded out. This revealed a diminutive woman with too much rouge, dirty blonde hair that was shot through with silver piled in a bun on her head and a dress in magenta taffeta which was both short and cut very low, very much not what society would have expected her to wear.
“Why hullo Dearies, what a fine looking company you are! Come in, come in and sample the delights of my house…”
She stepped back to allow them in to the cramped hallway, which Travis had to duck to squeeze into. He looked self conscious and uncomfortable, Rowena looked resigned and concerned whilst Rachel was just curious. Shutting the street the door the little woman bustled them along the short hallway to a much more secure door, which opened wide without her knock or that of anyone else for that matter to reveal a scene of surprising debauchery. There was a smell of tobacco cut through with the sickly sweet tang of opium and a warm damp fug. Naked people of both sexes and a wide spectrum of ages were it seem everywhere, writhing over one another without concern for gender of morals. Languished sighs, heavy breathing and cries of release assailed their ears as well as the sounds of various punishment tools on presumably willing flesh, but the little woman led them through all this toward a curtained recess as though they were strolling in Hyde Park on a genteel Sunday afternoon. Once hidden away behind the heavy curtain in a snug comfortable little corner, the mood became still more surreal as she offered tea and petite fours.
“Now then dearies, it’s a very rarity we get so fine a company as yourselves here. What is it I wonder that you want? None of you I think would have trouble finding any sort of company of the normal everyday sort! So you must be here for something unusual, am I right? Though I offer what any common cuntmonger does you can be sure that those you’ll find here are much cleaner and more skilled than any you’d find on the streets. In addition to that though , if you have a particular taste I will be able to cater to it, and if I cannot what I offer as an alternative will be on the house. Now I can’t say fairer than that now, can I?”
Though She might have been tempted Rowena was not going to waste time in recreations with any of the facilities the house could offer. Travis – bless him – had been squirming uncomfortably all the time they’d been inside, nor did She want – yet – to introduce Rachel to the possibilities that they might find here. She just wanted to be away from here and to forget the whole thing.
“Madam, let us not bandy words any longer, I’m here about the death of the Honourable which I know you are aware of. Frankly I could care little less what happened to him, I just need to be assured it won’t happen again. As such I’m going to give you an easy out and not close you down or get you locked away in a place darker than any you have ever known before. All you have to do is surrender whatever fetish it is that gave you the power to end him and swear bindingly enough to make me believe you that it won’t happen again and that will be an end to it.”
A scowl crossed the previously relaxed face and it seemed the temperature dropped instantaneously, before she spoke she took a sip from the dainty teacup before her and cleared her throat. The voice now was not so reedy and cracked as it was before; now it was hard as flint and just as sharp.
“Careful girlie, do not presume you know just how dark my past is, how low I was or how high I climbed to get here. Yes, it was me did for the Honourable, I’ve met some filthy pricks in my time but his was the worst. Some of my girls don’t mind a bit of punishment but he took it too far and refused to compensate those he damaged. I did it and I’ve no remorse in doing so. I’d do the same again. As to your demand, there is no charm I used, none beyond the strength of the hatred of every girl in London who’s been wronged by a man, been beaten and not deserved or wanted it, been hurt or gone unpaid. Hate is a powerful ally girl, and it compensates for my lack of skill. I do not swear nor will I ever and you will leave now or suffer the consequences!”
“Last chance Madame, you should not underestimate who I am, or the powers both legal and arcane I have at my call. I ask you to reconsider, no-one else need suffer. I just need your assurance that I won’t have to come back and talk to you again.“
The little woman stood as tall as She was able and punched forward her right arm with the first finger of the hand extended.
“No! now get out, and never darken my door again!”
Rowena considered it was wise now to retreat; together they had discovered the cause of if not the means by which the killing had been accomplished, further steps could be taken in the future. Now though the situation was becoming heated and Her experience as an agent of the Bureau told Her that now was not the time. She stood and the others followed closely behind, brushing aside the curtain they made their way back to the street, but as they retreated Rowena whispered;
“Be ready, I think things may yet get difficult still.”
None of the so engrossed crowd in the outer room seemed to notice much less care as they departed. The little hallway was now chill and seemed darker than it had when first they had entered, when they made the street it felt warmer outside than in. Not looking back they made for their waiting Hanson, all hoping that no-one would pursue…
A single word though echoed loud down the chasm of a street;
“Stop!”
Rowena stopped, sighed and muttered to Herself;
“Why don’t they ever take the easy option?”
The little Madame now stood arms raised high in the middle of the street, her hair loose and buffeted by a wind that no-one else could feel, her eyes rolled upward to show nothing but the whites. The cobbles beneath her feet seemed to run with liquid which inexplicably appeared to be running uphill toward the trio. Travis was unbuttoning his bulky coat to reveal a single barreled shotgun; cut to a convenient length for concealment in a deep internal pocket, it sported a frighteningly low gauge. Much too large for any normal hand he swung it upward to cover any threat that might present itself as he moved forward to intervene between the Madame and the girls, Rowena was loosening the hidden lacing at the side of Her jacket to release Her favourite bodkin and Rachel was stretching to loosen Her muscles for combat. No-one else though appeared or challenged them but the liquid still flowed toward them, it stopped a few feet short of Travis. Defying every law of fluid dynamics it started to gather into a pool from the centre of which a pillar started to rise which became the rough form of a human c***d… More of the liquid – milky, oily and thick; semen… - flowed upward and the c***d form became the form of a man. A strange bulge chested, thick legged man equal in size to Travis, its ”head” though was tiny and featureless, an amorphous lump at the summit of the semi liquid body. The flow that seemed to have formed it had come originally from the gutters and drain covers in the street. Spat out by hoards of hopeless hate filled women desperate enough to earn a bed for the night by any means but then washed away into the sewers. 
This witch who now faced them had used a touch of demonology, this raw essence that might one day have become a person and the hatred of some many lost women to summon the demon that had formed at Madame’s command. It was she who had slain the MP and now that Rowena, Rachel and the Bureau knew there would be trouble and notice for her, unless she used it again to silence these nosey girls and their bodyguard. 
Stalling for time Rowena tried again reason with the Madame;
“Stop this now, this doesn’t have to end this way. My bosses could use a wielder of such powerful magics. Stop now and I give you my word I’ll speak well in your defence.”
She already knew that this wasn’t going to have an effect, She just wanted to try and buy more time since She assumed the semen demon took a lot of energy to summon and control. She was hoping that very soon the Madame’s power to control it would run out. The last time She’d faced a demon it was the incubus the night She’s recruited Rachel, then She’d had surprise on Her side, this would be a much tougher fight.
 
As soon as Redmayne was off the boat at Dover, he ran pell-mell toward the station and the first train for London. He had already made arrangements for his luggage to be delivered to his rooms. Now there was only one thought on his mind; his girls. He wanted his girls and he would have them as soon as he found them wherever it may be. His cock was rampantly hard and already painful, more so as he sprinted to the station in trousers that were already tight before he had become so inflamed with lust for them. In three hours he’d be back in London, two more perhaps to find them and then he would bury himself in the very first of their collective orifices that was made available to him.

Before the thing made a move the light breeze that had been tousling the Madame’s hair played over its surface and ripples crossed and counter crossed its “skin”, Travis brought up his gun, aimed at its central mass and fired, the report echoing around the street left their ears ringing and added a touch of powder smoke to the ugly stench of the demon. The heavy slug hit the thing in the middle of its chest, but the only effect was a furious rippling of the semen from which it was formed, as though a stone had been thrown into a still pond. Completely unphased it slowly lifted its leg to walk toward them, it also raised its left arm as it did so to point directly at Travis. It was not solid enough though for its step to fully leave the ground; as the foot was raised a thin trickle of its matter still linked it to the cobbles.  So as it moved it left a pool of itself behind it and thus logically became minutely smaller with each step it took.
The end of its arm – not a hand, just a stump – pulsed like an arsehole deprived of the cock that it was still desperate to be filled by. It moaned wetly and Travis bent double, dropped his gun and clutched at his loins and loosed a bellow that Rowena knew to be the sound he made when he achieved after denying himself for a long time, he’d saved himself for Her often enough for Her to know the sound well (Later She would discover that he had cum more prodigiously in his trews than he had ever done before, merely at the demon’s gesture.). He was quite literally drained and now too exhausted to help the girls tackle the thing.
Rowena was just aware of Rachel at the edge of Her vision, moving to the side of the street, stealing into the shadows as She advanced stealthily toward the hag. The elder girl now had Her knife out, even with the reassuring phallic solidity of its haft in Her hand She feared She might be over matched. Behind this though there was a strange feeling of arousal at the feel of the knife in Her hand and at the brutal sexuality of the demon She must now face.
Rachel was doing Her level best to disappear, She had now learnt a little cantrip of camouflage but panic had drive almost everything from Her head. The plan She had just been able to form was to find some weapon; a cobblestone if nothing else presented itself and sneak behind the hag to try and knock Her out. The gunshot though had startled Her and She was now concerned that Travis was injured rather than just exhausted, She was though drawing courage from Rowena who was now facing the demon alone. There was nothing though, no discarded lathe of wood, no loose cobble, it would have to be Her fists…
Rowena moved lightly toward the demon, the blade of the knife pointing downward from Her right fist was held defensively in front of Her. There was nothing anyone would note about it to suggest its blade was anything more than four and a half inches of steel. It was though somewhat different from that, being made of “cold iron” (Formed into shape merely by pressure rather than a forge, which meant it was unhardened but could hurt faeries.) with a thin silver skin so that it could also affect demons.  During the silvering process a couple of ensorcelments had also been added to it, it was a very rare blade indeed. None of this would matter if it could incapacitate Her as easily as it had Travis though…
Having so effectively dealt with one of its adversaries the thing switched its attention to the next most obvious opponent, this one was smaller but carried a weapon that could actually harm it. Nor could it weaken this one as it had the first large one. It was just about to strike a blow when there were cries from its scrawny annoying summoner, it was almost of a mind to ignore them. If it did though and she was harmed enough to break their link it would lose its form on this plain. So, slowly, lumberingly it turned toward the screams, leaving slightly steaming puddles of itself behind it with every movement.
Rachel had been surprised that She had been able to get behind the hag without being noticed, clearly attempting to control the thing took a great deal of concentration. From the looks of her tired sweat streaked neck, a great deal of physical effort too. Rachel was now right behind her and had decided the best way to distract the hag was to send her sprawling with a foot in her back. This despite Her skirts She managed and the little Madame was sent to the floor bloodying her nose on the cobbles. It was surprise as much as pain which promoted the screams she loosed but it was these that the demon had reacted to.
With the Madame now sprawling at Her feet, Rachel had somewhat naively hoped the thing would just disappear. Sadly this was not the case and now all the distance that separated Her from it could be covered in two short paces. Still somewhat shocked She stood frozen now as it drew inexorably closer. Her eyes grew wide but it seemed this was all the movement of which She was capable, as it raised its stump ended arm to throw a punch. Rachel's wide eyes though could see Rowena behind it, charging knife out but there was no way She could prevent the thing's blow landing. Where there would be a fist on a man there was a pulsing void that widened as the blow approached Her face. The punch landed with a wet slap as the void at the end of the pseudopod limb covered Her face and most of Her head like a warm wet hood. The essence of the thing that now surrounded Her was already sloughing off and soaking into Her Hair and covering Her face. Then there was a wet flatulent sound and a flow of it gushed forth to soil Her still more fully and run into Her mouth and nostrils choking Her...
Rowena was rapidly reaching panic Herself, though the hag seemed to be at least temporarily incapacitated, Travis may have been injured and Rachel might already be being consumed. She hoped that when She struck the thing She wouldn't make things worse for Rachel. She charged and thrusting Her knife arm forward aimed at what would be the right k**ney of a man. The blade slid in with no resistance at all. Almost literally like a hot knife through butter, the smell that assaulted Her nose as a result was truly vile and grew worse as She drew it across the thing's back, opening a burnt edged rend in it. Though it was obviously now injured it let out no sound at all and that was almost more terrifying than a scream would have been. Its free arm pseudopod through swung behind it in a movement that would have been impossible if it had a skeleton, landing a wet oily blow on the left side of Her head. This was forceful enough to knock Her sideways to the floor, She was able though to hold on to the knife. Half of Her head and hair was now coated in the vile stuff from which it was formed, and Her knuckles were sc****d of their skin.
Now that the thing had dealt with two of its attackers its instinct was to concentrate on the victim it had a hold upon. It took a firmer hold on the one it had caught, now using both its “arms”. With Her head already covered by the essence of the thing Rachel was already choking and close to drowning in the same way the MP had been. She tried to pull its arms from Her but Her hands sunk into then passed through them, all the resistance She was capable of were a few weak kicks which did nothing even when they did connect other than soil Her shoes with semen...
Rowena tried to stand, but Her head was ringing at the blow and the hair now wetly plastered across Her face now blinded and disoriented Her. A strangled gurgling from Rachel though roused Her to the severity of their situation, shaking Her head wildly to try and clear it as She swept the hair out of Her eyes with Her off hand, She got groggily to Her feet.
Then from somewhere came the sound of running footsteps and the snick of a sword being drawn, Her vision cleared and there to Her utter delight was Redmayne... With a single stroke the thin keen blade usually hidden within his ebonised cane swept downward through both of the b**st's arms. Removed from the mass of its body by a silvered blade the thing's "hands" lost their form and became just a liquid once more which ran down Rachel as She coughed desperately to clear Her lungs, then fell to Her knees and retched up much of what She had already swallowed.
Wounded and with two of its pseudopods gone the thing began to lose stability, its form began to drip away. It was now angry though, well aware its presence on this plane had almost waned it still wanted some final defiant act before being pulled back. The time it had spent here was joyous, the beings here were weak and easily damaged, it actually felt surprise at their being able to hurt it. The tall one with the terrible cutting wand which had done so much damage to it was now at the side of the small one it had almost ended. Before it was gone it would make sure they remembered it.
Redmayne's sword cane still in his hand leapt to Rachel's side to see if She was alright. Though covered in the vile essence of the thing which had soiled Her so completely She seemed whole if sodden and shocked. A glance toward Rowena confirmed that She was on Her feet too and to his intense relief Redmayne also saw that Travis was also now on his knees if breathing heavily.   His concern for his friends though must be ignored since the wavering form of the demon was still very real. "It must be a demon if the silvered blade has such an effect on it" was the thought that went through his head as the thing fell upon him like the sort of wave he'd only ever encountered in the Icelandic Sea. Covering both him and Rachel in the last liquid remains of the thing that its planar departure had left. However vile and polluted he now felt and though gasping with the combat elation slowly fizzing away he was now intensely aware of his desire for the two girls he had missed so much. He cleared off the worst of what covered his face with the inside of his coat's elbow, and with a voice that was sterner than he'd meant it to be barked;
“Ro, get over here now!”
He was already fumbling with the buttons of his fly but his arousal and the slimy liquid which already covered him made removing himself from within awkward. Again he spoke his voice still harsh;
“On Your knees Rachel.”
She obliged without complaint, Her sodden head resting on Her arms which cushioned Her from the hard slick cobbles. He dropped the sword cane uncaring now if it were damaged and swept up Her skirts, fumbling for Her bloomers. Catching a scrap of the cotton he carelessly ripped them down and with his good hand finally released himself from his trews. His cock sprang up rampant with long denied desire, weeping onto the already semen coated cobbles. Without caring which hole he at last found refuge in he stabbed forward to possess whichever of Rachel's orifices it was.
There in the street with Rowena looking on (Her fingers busy at Her bud) Redmayne sodomised Rachel, Her hair loose, darkened and covered by semen splayed out around Her. When he eventually achieved visibly shaking with the effort, the vile essence dripping from his form he too bellowed as Travis had when the demon had induced his orgasm, Rachel came very soon after him with a gasp as he fell exhausted over Her, but his eyes were focused on Rowena's as She too tumbled over the brink of Her crisis.
Whilst his friends were so busily engaged with one another Travis effectively clapped the Madame in the irons he always carried and gagged Her for good measure. He wriggled his loins and bottom comically to rearrange himself and then with no effort at all lifted his captive onto his shoulder. It would take him some while to hike back to the Bureau but he was happy to do so, so that his friends could take the cab. He was after all sure they would like the time to get reacquainted with one another.

When Dr. Thorne woke his head was pounding and on regaining consciousness it was soon apparent that he was bound and in some pain. It was cold and he was naked and blindfolded. He was on his knees, his wrists shackled to his ankles, his forehead resting on a cold smooth surface and some thin and very strong twine was looped around his neck. He was aroused and his foreskin was pulled back so that the other end of the twine could loop around the tender flesh just beneath his glans. If he moved too quickly and the twine was strong enough there was a danger he might pull it off...
A voice he knew only too well suddenly addressed him;
“Good day doctor, did we have too much to drink last night? I see you have already realised your predicament, that's fishing line by the way it's not going to snap. I suggest you keep very still indeed.”
“Rowena You bitch! Let me free!”
This resulted in a slap across his naked right buttock, it was not especially hard but the shock of it made him jump and this pulled at the line, the pain that that produced was hot and scalpel sharp and he screamed.
“Scream all you like doctor we're in your laboratory, I often wondered why you'd sound proofed it, but no-one's going to hear you as a result. Do please be careful or you'll damage yourself.”
“Please let me go ” he begged panic already welling in his voice.
“Oh, no, no doctor before I let you go I'm going to extract your most solemn word that you'll never use your dirty little mind tricks on any woman again.”
“God yes I swear, on my life never again!”
“Thank you doctor, that's all well and good but I'm just not feeling the full earnestness of it yet.”
“You fucking trollop, stop fooling around and let me free!”
Another smack but harder, which had the same result and this time the agony on his cock head was still more intense.
“You're really not getting it are you? I'm in control here, don't insult me and do what you can to try and please me, or I really could with no effort at all damage you very badly. Now I was going to save this for tonight with Redmayne purely for our mutual recreation, but I think I might just test it on you instead...”
For the rest of the afternoon She ploughed him with the fake cock She longed to use on Her man. Dr. Thorne screamed and screamed sufficiently so that when She finally left him Her ears were ringing and he had sworn over and over again that he would no longer use his skills on any woman. It was though Her convincing him that She would visit him again for the same sort of treatment if ever She heard he had, that would actually bind him to his word. She left him trussed as he was to be found a day later by his assistant who was sworn to never mention it again...