Muriel’s Adventures

by Barron, Melinda

  “Do you think it will work?” North asked.

  “I don’t see why it wouldn’t,” Ewan said. “It’s not exactly a legal solution, but, hopefully, it will clear us.”

  “All right then, tomorrow night around six? Here at the shop?” Mr. North looked at Mrs. Keats, who studied him with interest. Muriel wondered if the two of them were single, and if they were, if something might come from what was obviously an attraction between them.

  “That’s fine,” Mrs. Keats said.

  “I will have a few porters in the kitchen to take care of things should it turn violent,” Mr. North said. “Although I don’t expect it will.”

  “Until tomorrow then,” Ewan said. He stood and offered Muriel his hand. “We have a wedding night to attend. Mr. Doors, will you take us to the university, please?”

  “I think, now,” Mr. North said, “we’ve set up something else for you. After much consideration, I remembered an unoccupied house on my block, which is nowhere near the university, and where Seeps would not even consider looking. Mr. Doors will take you there.”

  “Thank you for thinking of us,” Muriel said. “How will the owners feel about it?”

  “They left us the key when they relocated to London, but the house has not been purchased,” Mr. North said. “I’m sure they will appreciate it having the look of being lived in for at least a few nights.”

  “I’ll bring you food in the morning” Mrs. Keats said.

  “I will help,” Mr. North said. Yes, Muriel thought, there was definitely an attraction between the two of them.

  They bundled into the cab and were soon delivered to a nice townhouse.

  “I’m three doors down,” Mr. North said. He pulled a key from his pocket and led them inside.

  “The ladies spent the afternoon cleaning and setting up a bedroom for you upstairs,” Mr. North said. “I think it would be better if you didn’t leave the house before I come to collect you tomorrow, say around four? I’m sure a newly married couple will find a way to entertain themselves.”

  He left, and Muriel couldn’t help but laugh. “I think he’s a romantic at heart, despite his gruff exterior.”

  “I think you’re right,” Ewan said.

  They climbed the stairs and found the first doorway to the right. Before she could go into the room, Ewan stopped her.

  “Allow me, Mrs. McClacken,” he said. He picked her up in his arms and carried her into the room. Muriel nuzzled into his neck and murmured in appreciation.

  He tossed her onto the bed and it bounced under her.

  “Now, Mrs. McClacken, shall I welcome you to wedded bliss quietly, sweetly, softly?” He looked down at her and Muriel thought she would melt under his gaze. “Or shall I fuck your brains out?”

  “Oh, oh, such language,” she said. She fell back and put her arm to her forehead. “I feel faint upon hearing such words. Weren’t you the one who was getting onto me for mine earlier today?”

  “You’re right,” he said, standing up much straighter. “That means a good spanking will welcome you into our marriage.”

  Muriel gasped in mock outrage. “Does that mean I get to spank you for daring to use the word—fuck?”

  “Oh, that’s quite enough, Mrs. McClacken,” Ewan said. He launched himself at her, and Muriel had no time to duck. He was on top of her, smothering her mouth, cheeks and neck with kisses. She giggled and playfully fought against him, loving the feel of his lips on hers.

  Finally, she stopped struggling and let him kiss her, over and over and over.

  “I love you,” he repeated between each kiss.

  “And I love you,” she said while his lips were on hers. She sighed and rolled her head from side to side.

  “You’ve been a very good girl today,” he said.

  “I have, haven’t I?” she said. “It seems to me I deserve a reward.”

  “I think you’re right,” he said. He kissed her again. “How about a nice, long, hard spanking?”

  “On my bare bottom?” she asked.

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  “Too bad we don’t have a paddle,” she said. “Or a length of leather.”

  Her nipples hardened and her quim tingled. He stood and she lifted herself up onto her elbows. Her smiled widened as he took off his jacket, and then his vest. He moved slowly, and Muriel licked her lips in anticipation.

  When he started to unbutton his shirt, she sat up. “Can I help?” she asked, reaching toward him.

  “No, stay still.” When he was down to his trousers, Muriel moaned and she cupped her breasts.

  “Ewan, please,” she said.

  He put his hands on his hips and moved over. “I want to find something. So, stay right where you are, or the spanking will go away.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  He walked toward the window and Muriel’s mouth opened as he undid one of the tiebacks. It was made, she knew, of thick, woven rope.

  “Oh my,” she managed to whisper as she thought about him slapping that beautiful piece of equipment against her bottom. He came back to her and held it out.

  “Touch it, it’s soft,” he said. “But it will leave beautiful welts on your bottom. It will make you squirm. It will make you cry out in pleasure.”

  “Yes, it will,” she said. She looked up at him. “Now? Please?”

  “Yes, my sweet Muriel,” he said. “Stand up and take off your clothing, but do it slowly. The more you rush, the less I’ll spank.”

  They traded places, but instead of sitting on the bed, Ewan stretched out with his arms behind his head. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he said.

  Muriel moved slowly; she slid her hands up and down her body with each piece of clothing she shed. She loved the sensual movements as much as she savored watching the desire build on Ewan’s face.

  She glanced at his crotch; something was building there, too, and she once again caressed her torso, which was now covered only in her corset. She removed her pantalets slowly, leaving her petticoat on to cover her.

  Their gazes locked as she undid the laces on her petticoat and let it fall to the ground.

  “Leave the corset,” he said.

  “As you wish.” Muriel couldn’t help but put her fingers inside her slit. She wanted him inside her so badly that she thought about forgoing the spanking. But she wanted that, too.

  “On your knees, with your shoulders to the ground and your ass high in the air so I have the perfect target,” he said.

  Muriel trembled as she moved to the center of the room and followed his instructions. He didn’t touch her at first, making her wait for what she knew was to come. When she finally shivered and wiggled her bottom he traced the tie back over her bottom.

  She wanted to beg, but she knew from past experience that Ewan only wanted that when he asked. Sometimes, waiting was better.

  He gently caressed her bottom with the rope, over and over until finally he slapped it against her ass. Muriel moaned and wiggled, and he slapped it again, and again. When he set up a steady, hard rhythm she closed her eyes and relaxed into the spanking.

  If someone had told her when she met Ewan that she would enjoy rough sex, especially spankings, she would have told them they were crazy. But each strike brought her that much closer to orgasm, and the fact that Ewan produced those feelings made things that much more intense.

  “Fingers,” he said harshly. He slapped her ass harder, and harder, as Muriel stroked her clit, bringing herself that much closer. She spent within moments, screaming out Ewan’s name as her body seized in pure bliss.

  Ewan continued to spank her, even when the orgasm was over, and for a moment she thought she would spend again, but after a few moments she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Ewan must have sensed it, too, because he slowed his pace, the tie striking her less and less. When he finally stopped he dropped it on the ground and then bent and gathered her in his arms.

  His kisses were perfection, and they made her want him all the more. He placed her o
n the bed and quickly shed the rest of his clothing. When he was naked he lay down and she placed herself over him, taking his shaft deep inside her.

  He grabbed her hips as she rode him, and Muriel knew he did this for her. Making him climax in this position was hard, but she would do it, or at least she usually did. But she wouldn’t worry about it now. Instead she would savor the feel of him inside her, sliding up and down on his shaft until he hit just the right spot, and she peaked again. She grasped him inside her and she heard him gasp. The tone of his voice said it all. He was climaxing, too.

  She lost control of herself when it was over and collapsed on top of him. He held her tight and when he whispered, “I love you, Mrs. McClacken” several times she smiled and then said, “I love you too, my husband.”

  Those words were said much sooner than she thought they would be, but they made her feel more complete than she had ever felt in her entire life.

  * * *

  Mrs. Keats had again made a cream tea, but Muriel was pretty sure she hadn’t done it for them. She beamed down at Mr. North as she set the tray of sweets on the table.

  “You’re going to spoil me,” North said to her.

  Muriel glanced over at Ewan, who winked at her. He noticed the attraction, too.

  They were waiting for their guests to arrive, or maybe guest was not the right word. Muriel wasn’t sure what to call them. All she knew was it would be over, or so she hoped.

  They waited and waited, and none of the three arrived. Finally, after an hour, North said, “Let me go to the university and see if I can find Seeps. I will return.”

  He nodded at Ewan. “Keep alert, they may be waiting for me to leave.”

  When he was gone, the room grew quiet. Finally, Muriel said, “What do you think has happened?”

  “It doesn’t surprise me that Brown hasn’t come, but Seeps is basically a coward,” Ewan said. “He would be here trying to profess his innocence.”

  They ate and drank, and finally North came back.

  “Well?” Muriel asked.

  “Seeps is in the custody of the Peelers,” North said. “Your friend Janice killed Brown, and then herself, and left a note blaming the entire scheme on Seeps.”

  Muriel was so shocked by the words that she gasped. “What about the scroll, the original one they were using to make copies?”

  “Seeps had it in his office,” North said. “Rather telling evidence, really. I don’t know if they will try to implicate him in the deaths or not.”

  They were all silent for a while, and Muriel glanced at Ewan, who was looking toward the window.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered when everyone else had gathered away from them.

  “I’m sorry that I trusted her enough to be led into this situation,” he said. “I’m sorry it endangered you.”

  “If there is one thing this incident has taught us, it is to always be honest with one another,” she said. “Our love demands it.”

  “So, it does,” he said. “It is something I will never forget.”

  “Nor I,” she said. “Now, shall we go back to London and clean up our new home, and plan our second wedding so our friends can watch us get married?”

  “My love, I will marry you again, and again, and again,” he said.

  “You don’t have to,” she said. “Just once more, so our friends can watch. I know you love me, and you know I return that love. That is all that matters.”

  “Well, that and what wallpaper we are going to put in the dining room,” he said. “The design with the gold is rather, well, hideous.”

  She still couldn’t believe they had money for the repairs they wanted to make, money they’d received as a reward for the successful conclusion of the case.

  “Hideous?” Muriel shook her head. “I love it. It will be that or nothing.”

  “Then I suppose we’ll eat in the kitchen,” he said.

  “Then I’ll just put the paper on those walls,” she said.

  He took her in his arms and put his lips to her ear. “If you put that paper anywhere, I swear I will never spank you again.”

  Muriel pulled away from him and gasped, right before she said, “You know, I never liked that paper. We’ll find something new, and better.”

  “Indeed, we will, my love,” he said. “Something we choose together, as we will do with every decision in our lives from now on.”

  Part III

  The Excalibur Expedition

  by

  Melinda Barron

  Chapter 15

  March 1899

  “Get out of my way I’m in the mood to fuck.” Muriel McClacken prayed she hadn’t said the words out loud as she pushed her way past a woman pushing a pram. Since the woman didn’t look up, Muriel figured her prayers had been answered.

  It had been a long, hot day at the bookshop. Customers had been in a mood all day long, not wanting to wait their turn and angry when Muriel couldn’t find a certain book. Each time she dealt with a nasty person, Muriel couldn’t help but think of her husband, currently between detecting jobs, who was at home, putting the finishing touches on their townhouse.

  In the year and a half that they’d been married, Ewan had proven to be the perfect husband. When he wasn’t on a case he was working on the house, which had come to them in less than pristine condition. They worked together to paper the walls and pick out furniture that fit in all the right places.

  When they weren’t working, her at the bookshop while Ewan was solving cases, they were having fun learning the ins and outs of what made each other tick in the bedroom, or in the kitchen, or the library, or the parlor, or the kitchen, or the, well, just the anywhere, Muriel thought with a giggle.

  Which brought her to the reason why she was hurrying home tonight. She needed the comfort of Ewan’s touch. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She needed sex. Nice, rough sex that would make her forget about the man who had come into the shop and demanded a rare copy of a Shakespeare folio, one that would never see the light of day in The Written Word.

  “Do you know who I am?” the man had asked.

  “A disappointed shopper,” Muriel had answered. To which the man, who was a Baron or something, had reported her to the store manager, Mr. Holmes, who had told Muriel her mouth would find her without a job one day if she wasn’t careful.

  Muriel needed an orgasm, or two, or three. She had an idea of what would produce the feelings she wanted—no, needed.

  She hurried along, coming to the steps of their roundhouse in record time. She burst through the door and slammed it behind her.

  “Ewan? You know the tree in the back? I have an idea.” She dumped her coat on the front stairs and waited for an answer. When one didn’t come she moved toward the library, the place where Ewan generally waited for her at the end of her working day.

  “We’ll need some rope, and your wonderful imagination, which always makes me want to sing.” She entered the library. “How about we do it right now? I know it’s still light, but I can get undressed in two shakes and… um, hello?”

  “Muriel, darling, this is Mr. Robson-Jones,” Ewan said. She could tell Ewan was working hard to keep from laughing. “He’s come to see me about a possible job.”

  “Mrs. McClacken, forgive me for intruding in your home,” the man said as he stood. “And please, call me Vernon.”

  “As you wish, Vernon,” Muriel said. She crossed the room to stand in front of her husband. He looked at the floor, and she could see him struggling to keep from laughing. She would make him pay for it later. After a moment she turned her attention back to Mr. Robson-Jones.

  “What sort of case are you referring to, sir?” She thought the honorific would be easier than calling him by his given name, since they’d just met.

  “My daughter is missing,” he said. “I have heard good things about you and your husband and the way you solve cases. I want you to find my daughter.”

  “Has she been kidnapped?” Muriel asked. Then she waved her hand. “Pleas
e, sit back down, then you can answer the question and we can discuss the situation.”

  They all sat down, Muriel next to Ewan on the divan, and Vernon back in his chair.

  “My daughter’s name is Euphoria,” he said.

  Muriel blinked and bit her lower lips as she thought about the choice of name. “So, your daughter is Euphoria Robson-Jones.”

  “Yes, it’s a mouthful, true, but it fits her,” he said. “Her mother picked it out. We call her Phee.”

  “Her age?” Ewan asked. “We hadn’t gotten very far when you came in, darling.”

  “Yes, I realize it’s not a good time of day,” Vernon said. “But when I received a letter in the post I knew we needed to start as soon as possible.”

  “May we see the letter?” Muriel asked. Beside her, Ewan stiffened, and she knew she should let him take the lead. After all he was the detective and she was the bookseller.

  But she did help him out on cases, quite often, actually.

  “Her age?” Ewan asked as he stood and walked to Vernon. “And the letter?”

  Robson-Jones reached into his pocket and pulled out the missive. “Phee is twenty-three years old.”

  “What does she do with her time?” Ewan asked as he took his seat next to his wife.

  “I am the stage manager at the Empire,” he said. “And I teach a few classes with the school that is associated with the theater. Phee has had a few parts in plays, and when she doesn’t she assists with the wardrobe mistress.”

  “So, she’s an actress,” Muriel said. “That sounds intriguing. Is it possible she’s gone off to another town to take part in a production?”

  “She would have told me, and the letter dispels that,” Vernon said. “Please, read it out loud Mr. McClacken.”

  “If we’re to call you Vernon, you must call me Ewan,” her husband said right before he started to read. She glanced over to see his gaze skim the paper.

  “What does it say?” she asked.

  “Father, I know better than to ask you not to be angry, but you need to know I am off with my Merlin, and I won’t be back. Please remember that I love you and Mother. Phee.”