The Real Main Event
“This story is obviously of a fictional nature. It is not suitable for anybody under the age of 18. I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to email me with any thoughts or comments that you may have on this piece.
I am back after a lengthy layoff mainly due to work keeping me very busy. Upon my return I will focus nearly all my stories on the lovely Debra Marshall (or McMichael or Williams) because I think she’s the most beautiful diva in the history of wrestling and this is my way of expressing that. Please enjoy this story. Thanks.”
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I flew in from New York to Houston, Texas on Sunday April 1, 2001 for WrestleMania X-7 to meet with WWF wrestling superstar Steve Austin about his acting career. I had started working as an actor on All My Children six months earlier. I met Steve at a show in New York and we talked every so often after that. He invited me to be his guest at WrestleMania, so I took him up on the offer and made my way out there. I advised Steve that it was a good time for him to do acting because his career was peaking and it’s important to capitalize on that. I was a huge wrestling fan so it was a thrill to be able to be at WrestleMania.
I arrived at the Astrodome at around 4pm or so and I met with Steve only briefly. I also met his wife Debra for the second time, also a WWF performer, although she was a late scratch from the WrestleMania card. She was hot, as all WWF girls are, but there was something special about this one. The ass, the tits, the legs - she had everything. I mostly hung out backstage with the majority of the wrestlers that were watching the matches on the main screen they had back there. With Steve talking to The Rock and some agents about their main event match coming up later, Debra walked up to me.
She was wearing one of her trademark black business suits, showing some cleavage with a short skirt and her shapely legs rounding out the outfit. She mostly talked to me about the soap I was on, but then the conversation took a different turn.
“Doug, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“When Steve wrestles I usually watch the match in his private dressing room because sometimes I get nervous and I don’t want other people around. I was wondering if it wouldn’t be too much trouble if you could watch with me?”
“Um,” I stumbled due to being surprised by what she was asking, “I guess so if it’s okay with Steve.”
She took my arm, then pulled me over to the side where it was a bit more private.
“Steve’s in his own world right now. He doesn’t really care about me or anybody else.” She confessed to me while looking upset.
“I don’t know about that. You’re married after all.” I told her.
“Yeah, but he won’t let me have a career on screen anymore. Vince brought me back to manage The Rock for this storyline, I was going to be a part of the main event and then because of Steve bitching to Vince I was taken out of that spot. Now he expects me to just sit back here with a smile on my face while I’m bored out of my mind? Fuck that.” She was angered, and with good reason.
“Look Debra, I know you’re frustrated, but I don’t know if I’m the person to tell this to. We barely know eachother at this point, after all.” I said, explaining to her.
“That’s why I want you to watch the match with me privately, sugar.” She had a twinkle in her eye. “I love watching you on your show. Meeting you like this, I feel like a kid in a candy store. I have acting aspirations of my own, ya know. Since my career here doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, maybe you could give me some tips.” She looked around, then noticed we were pretty much in a private place. She undid one of the two buttons on her top showing me a lot more cleavage. Using my chin, she tilted my head down so I was now staring at her tits.
“So Doug, will you join me to…talk?”
I felt choked up a bit, shocked at how flirtatious was, but I wasn’t about to complain. “Uh sure, I think I can do that,” I assured her. “Steve won’t know about this right?” I asked, just to make sure.
She buttoned her top again, then replied with a smile. “No, he’ll be in the ring for 45 minutes and with all the entrances it’ll be an hour or so until he gets back here. So we’ll have plenty of time to…talk.”
“Okay,” I said. “I guess I’ll see you a bit later then.”
“Can’t wait,” she smirked at me.
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At 8:35pm local time, I was backstage in the cafeteria area mingling with some of the other wrestlers when Steve came up to me. “Hey man, I’m gonna go meet with Rock, Vince and the ref to go over the match one last time before we go out there. I’ll see you after the show, alright?”
“Alright man, have fun out there.” I told him.
“Oh,” he continued, “and Debra told me you’re gonna watch the match with her. I appreciate that. She gets nervous. You know women, right?”
“Ha, of course,” I said half heartedly.
He went in the other direction while I went in the direction of Steve’s locker room where I assumed Debra was waiting for me. I was hesitant about going because while I had the feeling she was interested in me sexually I wasn’t totally sure, so I went in thinking about not making the wrong move.
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The room was in a private area with only Vince and The Rock’s rooms nearby, so with all of them involved in the main event I knew it was secluded. I knocked on the door. From inside I heard her tell me to come in. When I opened the door I saw Debra sitting on a big soft chair with her gorgeous legs stretched out onto an ottoman. She was rubbing them with some kind of cream. “Lock the door, please.” She said while not even looking at me. I did, then I walked over to the couch that was adjacent to the chair she was on. I was staring right at her massaging her legs. She glanced over to me noticing her, then looked back at the TV.
“You see this crap?” She yelled, pointing at the TV. “They won’t let me be a part of the match, but they have no problem sticking me in the video package. What a way to treat your wife, huh?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there silently.
“Enough about that, though. Let’s talk about something more pleasant.” She kicked the ottoman away, then sat up in the chair with her amazing legs crossed. “I’m really happy you came to Houston and you decided to join me here now. I’m such a huge fan of your show. You really are my favorite character; I’m not just saying that.”
“Thank you. We’ve got great writers and they do a good job with the stories.” I continued to stare at her amazing body.
“Don’t be so modest, honey. Your character Chase is great because of you. I love the character. He sees the women he wants, then he gets them no matter who they are and how tough it may be. I love everything about him, especially that body of yours.” She continued while I blushed. “Judging by the way you were looking at me earlier, I think we’ve got some sort of mutual admiration society here, huh?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Question is, what are we going to do about it?” She asked while getting up off the chair and walking over to me on the couch. She sat down beside me, her legs crossed again.
“You’re a very beautiful woman, Debra, I hope you know that.” I said, looking into her eyes. She grabbed my hand while I continued, “If you don’t know that then your husband is doing a bad job.”
“He just doesn’t understand my needs,” she confessed.
“Like what?”
“Like how my legs need some attention.” She put my hand on her right leg, then moved it up her leg so it was under her skirt. “And my lips, they feel so lonely sometimes.” She leaned in towards my face and kissed me passionately on the lips. “Mmmmmm. You know what else wants attention?” She leaned back, then unbuttoned the two buttons on her top, opened it up and showed me her giant tits being held by her black bra. “My tits. They want all of your attention.”
I reached for them with my hand, caressing them while still in the bra. She put her hands on me and undid the buttons on my shirt, rubbing her hands along my chest.
“I guess we’ve got a mutual love of the chest too, huh?” I said to her smiling.
The talking stopped while I threw her jacket to the ground and she threw my shirt off. We kissed again with her laying on top of me on the couch. I went to take off her bra, but she stopped me, wanting to do it at another time. Instead she reached for the belt on my pants, undoing that and sliding my pants down. She turned around so I could take off her short skirt and we were left with her in bra and panties while I had my boxers on. We kissed eachother again, this time sloppily with our tongues flying around in eachohter’s mouths and a lot more aggression on both of our parts.
She got up again, standing in front of me as I sat on the couch with my legs slightly open. “You know,” she said, “I always fantasized about kissing you, but what I really want is for you to fuck me like an animal. Don’t hold back. I want it rough. I need it rough. Can you do that for me?”
“Oh yeah, baby. Whatever you want. Now let me see those tits.”
I slid my boxers down so my hard dick was right in her face. She gently stroked it, then stuck her chest down so my cock was rubbing up against her tits. She moved her melons around in all different directions while thrusting my cock into them. She unclipped her bra, then threw it to the ground. Her puppies were free. My dick was getting harder as she rubbed it between, around and on top of her tits. “Oh yeah, Debra, just like that,” I encouraged her. She rubbed it all over her tits, then she would put it in her mouth and suck on it. After about a minute of titty play, she really dropped down in front of me and looked at me with a smile. “Time for a snack.”
The way she sucked my cock it was like she had never seen one before. My body was rock hard and so was my cock thrusting deep in her mouth. She used every technique imaginable from sticking both lips on it like a lollipop to using her tongue to flick it constantly, teasing me to no end.
“You’re such a fucking tease, Debra,” I said to her with a smile. “Come on baby, take it all in.”
She looked at me smiling, her mouth wrapped around my cock and her hands caressing my balls. She bobbed her head back and forth, sucking, licking and gently biting my cock every way possible. I could feel it hitting the back of her mouth and I could also hear her struggling a bit to take it all in, obviously not accustomed to having such a huge object in her mouth. “Mmmmmmmmmmmm,” she moaned.
“Quite a mouthful, huh?” I smirked.
I could sense she giggled a bit, but that didn’t stop her from her goal of making me shoot a load of cum in her mouth. She leaned forward even more from her position on her knees, stroked my cock and I finally let out the explosion of cum in her mouth. She swallowed it all, wiping some from her mouth while looking up at me with a huge grin on her face.
She lay prone on the floor. “That was…” she said while taking a deep breath, “the best dick I’ve ever seen in my life. Unbelievable…just fucking unbelievable.” She stuck her hand up to get me to lift her up. She was obviously tired, so I carried her and placed her on the chair. She pointed to her panties that were still on. I got the message. I knew she liked it aggressive, so I quickly pulled down her panties with my right hand and started to rub her clit with my fingers.
“Ooooooooooooooooh,” she moaned.
“What about my hands?” I asked while positioning my face lower, close to her pussy. “Unbelievable?”
“Mmmmmmmmmmmm!”
I went down in a fury with my tongue deep in her clit. I knew she wanted it rough, so that’s what I did to her. I cupped her ass with my two hands in order to get even deeper inside of her.
“OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH FUCK! OHHHHHHHH (panting) MYYYYYYYYYY (panting) GODDDDDDDDDDD!!”
My tongue was really deep in there, licking the sides of her clit as well as the inner parts. I managed to get my right finger in there too to increase the pressure. She was moaning and cursing up a storm while I continued.
“Jesus fucking Christtttttttt! OH GOD, OH GODDDDDDDDDDD!”
I kept on licking away while also gently biting the edge of her clit. I could feel her getting really wet.
“FUCK!” She kept on yelling. “Get inside of me! NOWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”
Not one to let a fan down, I got on top of her. With her on her back and her legs spread open I put my rock hard cock deep into her wet pussy as hard as I possibly could. I knew that any woman that likes it physical loves this position, so I really put a lot of pressure to give it to her hard. She was a loud one too.
“That’s…how…I like it! OOHHHHHHHHHHH!”
From my position on top I was able to reach down with my hands to massage her tits. As much as I loved her entire body it was her tits that I loved most and I really wanted to fuck them. She could tell too. “You’ll get your chance hun, just keep going.” Aggressively I added more pressure by now grabbing the sides of her hips and pushing them inward to make me feel all of me. Her verbal communication let me know I was doing a good job.
“So good! So fucking good! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Harder!”
I reached for her hands and lifted her up so she was sitting on me while I was on the ottoman. With my hands clutching her back and my mouth joining hers as we kissed aggressively, I continued to ram my cock deep up into her pussy. My cock was very stiff now and ready to blow, but I kept on going as long as I could.
“FASTER! MORE! OOH YEAH! FUCK ME BABY…FUCK ME!”
After another fifteen seconds or so I could feel another load coming on, I whispered it to her to let her know and she pushed off me, then went to my cock with her mouth and took a second shot into her pearly whites. This time she spit.
As she wiped her mouth I couldn’t help but say something, “you’re just a cum guzzling slut aren’t you?”
“I am,” she said with a grin. “But sometimes I spit.”
With our bodies tired a bit after such a rigorous workout, we turned to face the TV to see how the Austin/Rock match was going. We both glanced over at a clock to see it was 9:30pm local time meaning we had another fifteen minutes or so before Steve came back. I brought her lips close to mine and kissed her some more. Even though my cock had been worked a lot during our evening I knew I had more left in me and I really wanted to fuck her tits.
“Debra,” I began to say politely. “We still got some time to…”
“I know, sugar,” she winked at me as she spoke in her cute southern drawl. “That’s our main event. We have to save the best for last.” Now we both had enormous smiles on our faces.
With me sitting back on the she kneeled down in front of me, bending forward with her tits. She rubbed on my cock again to keep it hard, which was not a problem. This woman could get me hard in mere seconds. She cupped her breasts together, then lowered them down against my cock. I stuck my right hand down to my cock and started beating her tits with it ever so gently.
“Now you’re teasing me, huh?” She smiled.
“Payback’s a bitch,” was all I could muster in return. We both kind of laughed.
She spread apart her tits and I rammed my very hard cock in between them. It felt at home. She kept squeezing her tits close together while I continued to push my throbbing dick upwards in her direction. Every few seconds she would take her tits away and lick my dick.
“This feels sooooooooooooooooooo good.” I assured her.
Debra obviously felt the same way because she kept the pressure coming with her tits. I could tell she had experience at it, but I never had fucked a pair of tits like this before either. They were amazing. I could tell that she felt the same way about my dick. It was the perfect match. The pace of the titty fuck picked up a bit as I leaned forward so I was basically sitting in front of her and she was bobbing up and down like she was when she was sucking me off. You could hear a loud “SMACK!” as she thrashed all over my member with her giant melons. If you could take a picture of paradise this would be it for me. It went on for several minutes.
“Don’t,” she said while panting, “cum on me again…cum inside me.” She took her tits off of my cock, then rubbed it with her hand while smiling at me. “Over here, so Steve can see the big fucking grin on my face.”
I quickly found out what she meant as she walked over to the TV, placed her hands against the casing that was holding the TV and bent over in front of me with her wonderfully built butt. I had a grin on my face like I was a lion about to feast on a dead carcass. I clutched her hips with my hands and I didn’t know where she wanted it, whether it was the clit or the ass. I decided on the clit since I’d been there before and I figured she wanted to end our glorious fuck fest in a familiar place.
“Steve, you piece of shit” she yelled aloud I guess in the direction of her husband on the TV, “this is how you fuck a woman!”
I wasn’t about to question her sanity, so I thrusted inside of her pussy with my very experienced penis as she let out a huge moan.
“Ooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhh! More, baby…more!”
She got her wish. I placed my hands inside of her hips while inserting my cock deeper into her vagina. While I knew she enjoyed it, I could sense that she was tiring. I decided to keep going aggressively because that’s what she wanted earlier.
“Smack my ass, Doug! Smack it!”
**SMACK!**
I didn’t do it too hard because I was too busy penetrating inside of her. Then I decided to do it again.
**SMACK!**
Her pussy was becoming very wet again while I could feel myself ready to unload.
“FUCK YES! OH FUCK YES!”
**SMACK!**
Knowing the end was going to be near I thrust myself deeper inside of her. I had never felt this stiff before and I could guarantee that she never felt it this good before.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
**SMACK!**
I was ready to blow, so I tapped her hip to let her know.
“DO IT! LET ME FEEL YOU INSIDE ME!”
With every ounce of energy I had I let out one final surge of white liquid into her wet pussy.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”
Finally, our bodies became calm as every last drop of my climax had shot into her body. I quickly realized we didn’t have protection, but she assured me it was okay and that she had taken precautions. “We’re safe, hon.”
Almost simultaneously the bell had rung in the Austin/Rock match. Austin won somehow, but it was far from my mind. Debra turned herself around and we kissed eachother again. Neither of us wanted to stop, but we knew we had to.
“I could fuck you all night,” I told her matter of factly.
“Good, because tomorrow they’re having a rematch,” she said referring to Austin and Rock. “And so are we.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said with a smile from ear to ear.
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Five minutes had passed and we could hear people running around backstage. We both had our clothes back on, fixed up our hair, cleaned up the room and made it look like we were just sitting around talking for the past hour. We opened the door as we waited there for Steve to return. Some people were nearby so we couldn’t touch eachother anymore, but we did have one final talk.
“By the way, sugar, our rematch tomorrow night is going to have a special guest,” she told me.
“What do you mean?” I asked, wondering what in the world she was talking about.
“I’m not the only All My Children fan in the women’s locker room.” Then she looked out into the crowd of people while eyeing one very good looking blonde in the crowd, “Trish, she’s a sweetheart don’t you think?”
I was watching my poor friend, and yet - found it near impossible to take my eyes off of the unfortunate Miss Adler! The passing years had done little to dim her renowned beauty - the soft auburn hair, the intelligent blue eyes, and, most enticing - her petite, shapely figure and fair skin, now presented in the wickedest, most sinful manner imaginable! I rapidly felt a “stirring” in my loins, one such as I’d not known since I was a young lad! If I hadn’t been both a married man, and a Christian one…
The infernal tempter continued: “How long has it been, man, since you’ve enjoyed yourself with one of the ‘fairer sex?’ How many years? How much longer will you continue to deny yourself the pleasure, living instead the solitary life of the ascetic intellectual, Holmes?”
It was then that I’d noticed something fascinating, yet dreadful to observe, overcoming Holmes’ features. He said nothing, but - both by the expression on his face, and knowing him as well I did - I was certain that there was a titanic, powerful struggle occurring within, for the very sanity and soul of my dear friend. How many years, indeed, I couldn’t help but wonder, had it been since he’d known the company of a compatible woman, “in the Biblical sense?” He’d always publicly eschewed such romantic notions and pursuits as mere “distractions” from his pursuit of his life’s work; yet - still, I had my doubts about these convictions!
I’d suddenly remembered a former case we’d investigated almost a decade ago now, one in which a highly-principled, yet misguided contemporary of mine, a Dr. Henry Jeckyl, had attempted to prove the existence of the dual basic nature of man - one side good, the other, opposite one inclined towards evil - using himself as a “guinea pig” with the most disastrous of results! (see: *”The Adventure of The Diabolical Doctor”*) Was that what was happening to my good friend now - had Holmes, indeed, his own “dark side,” his own Edward Hyde kept hidden away all these years, denying it even to himself? And, was this malign alter ego now about to finally emerge to take total control?
Most likely sensing this him self, Moriarty persisted. He lifted a kitchen ladle, and scooping up some “sauce” from the bottom of the pan enclosing Miss Adler, he lifted it up, and proceeded to pour it onto her exposed genitalia, basting it! She gave a languorous shudder, almost as if in sexual ecstasy!
“Care to have a ‘taste’ before cooking?”
I broke away from the spell first, imploring him! “Holmes, for God’s sake, man - “look away”!! Don’t even “listen “to the fiend!!”
After another long moment, Holmes did just that, sharply averting his eyes in an expression of either extreme disgust, or sublime desire! He then stared directly into Moriarty’s evil countenance.
“Professor”, he began slowly, “when I first had occasion to become aware of you, I thought you merely to be a ‘criminal mastermind.’ Then, with the passage of time, I discovered you to be both a blackguard and a scoundrel. But now - now that I see you clearly for who you really and truly are, I admit that I’ve greatly underestimated you! You, Sir,” he came close to spitting out the words, “are the most FOUL and VILE creature alive - the very DEVIL Himself!! ‘Get thee behind me, Satan’ - and release Miss Adler AT ONCE!!”
“So,” Moriarty fumed, “you reject my most “generous “offer, do you? After all the trouble and resources spent, to bring you a rehabilitation of your integrity? You spurn me?!”
“You’re as “mad “as you are “evil”, Professor!!” Holmes declared.
“Then”, the arch villain continued, “we have nothing more to discuss, save for the ’settling of old accounts’!”
He backed away from the poor woman, and - reaching underneath the table - withdrew a formidable-looking military saber, its’ keen edge glinting in the electric light.
“It’s ‘endgame,’ Mr. Holmes! As I’d already explained - there’s only the three of us now, plus the woman!” He paused. “May I presume you’ve come suitably prepared?”
Holmes stepped back from the table and Miss Adler, grasped the head of his elegant cane and, pulled out a sword-blade! He swished it about a few times in the air, testing its feel.
“I await your pleasure, Professor!”
“My “pleasure”, Mister Holmes,” Moriarty snarled, “is to see to your imminent “demise”! “‘En garde’”, Sir!!”
And at that, the two antagonists quickly advanced towards each other, to duel with their chosen weapons!
“Holmes…!” I warned.
“Stay out of this, Watson - and, look to Miss Adler! This is between the two of us, now!”
They went at it, and each other, with both a vigor and a viciousness born out of both a deep mutual enmity, and yet a curious and perverse respect! “”KLING”! “CLANG! KLENG!”" sounded metal against metal, the only other sounds in the thickly walled room being the symphonic music record, the crackling of the open-hearth fire, and the pitiable whimpering of the captive Miss Adler! I tried in vain to free her from her damnable bondage, but - the twining-cord proved too tough for my humble pocket-knife, and the only other objects in the room sharp enough to do justice - aside from the combatants’ weapons - were some butcher knives, obviously meant for the most dire of purposes, across the way near the oven, and I couldn’t reach them! I could do little but cover the dear lady’s nudity with my dress-coat, and watch them in awe.
Holmes’ renowned prowess as a “stick-man” was tested against Moriarty’s reinvigorated strength. One’s skillful parries and thrusts were barely enough to counter the other’s brutal, powerful lunges and slashes. Their shadows were silhouetted against the brick walls by the light source, making them seem larger than life! In the process, they exchanged curses and insults!
Holmes: “”Monster!” “Degenerate!”"
Moriarty: “”Fool!” Meddler!” Hypocrite!”"
At one point, the fiend had almost “turned the tables” on Holmes, cornering him very close to the oven’s mouth! Sensing victory at hand, he tried to force him into it!
“Die, “damn “you, DIE!! And “stay “dead this time!!”
But, Holmes quickly rallied, and pushed Moriarty back away, regaining “the high ground” once again.
Infuriated, the madman took a wide swing at the great detective, and - after he’d dodged it just in time - Moriarty’s blade slashed open a gas feed line for the demonic oven, starving it of fuel for its fire. The gentle hiss of invisible gas escaping into the room sounded a warning!
Finally, Holmes cornered the Professor near the oven, and deftly knocked the saber out of his hand. Then his sword “snicked” Moriarty’s chef’s jacket buttons aside, opening up his tunic, pinning him at the throat with the blade tip! A triumphal smile played upon his lips.
“Now, Professor,” he mocked, “You were saying about endgame, and settling old accounts? Watson!” He glanced at me. “Cover the man, whilst I free Miss Adler!”
I came over towards him, training my revolver on the villain, as Holmes used his cane-sword to cut the lady’s bonds. When he removed her gag, she started crying and sobbing uncontrollably, her delicate body shaking as he wrapped his own cloak about her. “There, there, my dear woman,” he soothed, “it’s all but over, now! We shall see to your safety from here on in!”
Watching this, I’d but took my eyes off of Moriarty for a moment, as we heard:
“So - you think you’ve won, do you, Holmes - Watson?”
As we turned to regard him, we saw him take a particularly lethal-looking handgun of some unknown, foreign manufacture from inside his ripped tunic and level it at us!
“Meet the future of modern weaponry, gentlemen! It’s a ‘machine pistol’ - an automatic sidearm that holds an ammunition clip of twelve rounds! I can get off three or four shots to your one, from your antiquated revolver, Doctor! You forget, Holmes, that I always prepare a contingency plan, to fall back on in case of a reversal of fortune! The three of you, will not leave this building - alive!”
“Moriarty, don’t be a damned fool!” I cried. “There’s gas issuing from a ruptured line! If you fire that, we’ll all go up in flames - we’ll “all “be dead!”
“Then,” the fiend replied, “perhaps it’s for the best! We’ll all perish, together!”
“Holmes!”
“Yes, I know, Watson! Make haste - and, run for the front of the building! Keep your weapon trained on him!”
I did as he commanded, as the three of us - Holmes, Miss Adler, and myself - backed away as quickly as we could towards the street entrance, all the while keeping an eye on the mad professor!
“To paraphrase Milton,” he cried after us, “‘Tis better to burn in Hell, than serve time in Heaven!!” He took aim with the pistol.
“WATSON!”
“YES, I’M COMING - ”
“”RUN “FOR IT!!”
“CRACK-BANG-CRACK-CRACK!
*”KWAA-FOOM!!”*
The sudden gas explosion knocked us all three - Holmes, Miss Adler, and myself - off of our feet just as we’d barely managed to escape through the shop’s front entrance, with a concussive blast that literally threw us into the street outside! This was accompanied by a huge, billowing wave of flames, as debris - bricks, mortar, glass, store fixtures, cakes, and breads - came raining down all about us! We’d covered and hid ourselves from the barrage as best we could - the lady, still wearing only Holmes’ coat, being the most vulnerable, as he tried to shield her with his own body. As we waited for the dust to settle, we turned back to view what was left of the bakery.
Very little, indeed. It was a veritable funeral pyre of flames, and burning material. It seemed quite certain that nothing - and, most importantly, no”body “- could’ve withstood either the blast, or the ensuing fire. We gazed upon it in wonderment.
“Mad!” I declared of the now surely dead Professor Moriarty. “Mad, and consumed by his own hatred - for you, Holmes!”
“As fitting an end as one could conceive of, for so diabolical a fiend!” agreed Holmes.
We slowly got to our feet, and surveyed our injuries. I’d apparently suffered some superficial cuts and bruises, as well as considerable damage to my rented eveningwear. I briefly wondered how I was going to explain this to the haberdashery! I next regarded Holmes, who seemed at first to be no worse off - until I’d noticed a slight trickle of blood trailing down his upper right arm!
“Holmes!” I said in alarm, “you’ve been hit, man, by one of Moriarty’s bullets! Let me have a look at that!”
“It’s quite all right, Watson,” my friend observed, though speaking through clenched teeth, as he clutched at it with his free hand, whilst still holding onto the woman, “it’s only a flesh wound, passed through the meat of my arm!”
As he staggered upright, I glanced over Miss Adler’s condition. Though dirty and disheveled, as were we all, she seemed to have weathered the ordeal rather well, I’d thought. Still, she was shaking and trembling, racked by sobs, barely able to speak.
“Oh GOD! THANK YOU! Thank you “both”, gentlemen - Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson!! If it hadn’t been for the two of you, I’d - I’d…” her dreadful, narrowly-escaped fate had reappeared before her, and she broke down into tears yet again.
“There, there, my dear woman - it’s all over, all behind us now!” He drew his coat closer around her, protecting what was left of her modesty, then glanced sharply at me. “Watson,” he inquired, “do you still have your medical kit?”
I checked my outer coat-pocket - my personal “traveling” version was still there. “Yes, I have it.”
“Then, please - ‘the needle’, if you’d be so kind?”
I regarded him suspiciously. What a time for…
“”No”, not THAT one! A mild sedative, if you’d please, for Miss Adler, here! And,” he grimaced a bit while switching arms to hold her with, “morphine for myself, if you’d have some?”
I unfolded my kit, and prepared two hypodermics as requested. By now, the explosion had begun to attract a sizeable crowd of onlookers from further up the street, and we instructed them to summon the nearest city fire brigade lest the surrounding buildings became engulfed. Some of them quickly did so, and inside of thirty minutes, a horse-drawn water-pumper and ladder wagon came hurrying down the narrow street, alarm bell clanging.
** * **
It was almost an hour after the explosion, just past midnight, when several hansom cabs carrying both Inspector Lestrade and his men came racing up the street. As they came to a halt, they all leapt out beside us, to view the gradually dying fires being extinguished by the firemen. The intrepid Lestrade spoke first.
“Awful sorry, Mr. Holmes - the delay was unavoidable, our train got switched onto the wrong track somehow, so we got off in Cheltenham, and caught a ride with a lorry-driver headed into town.” He took in the scene of fiery devastation. “Good “Lord! “What in “blazes “happened here?”
“The ’spectacular end’ - of a notorious criminal career, Lestrade!” Holmes grimly remarked.
“Then - Moriarty? He’s…?”
In reply, my friend simply turned back to view the smoldering ruins.
“That’s one “hell “of a way, to escape justice!” the inspector offered. He then observed the barely-clad Miss Adler, slumped in both fatigue and sedation, in Holmes’ arms.
“Oh, “crikey “- not twice in one night!”
“I’ll explain all later, Inspector - right now, this poor woman must be sent straightaway to Queen’s Mercy Hospital, I believe that’s the nearest one to us, to the critical-care ward, before she goes into shock!”
“Yes, right! Alright, Miss, please come this way.” Lestrade said as he assisted Holmes in gently helping Miss Adler into one of the waiting hansom cabs. “Don’t you worry none, we’ll find you some more decent and proper clothing, and you’ll be there before you know it! Careful, now…” as he lifted her up and into it.
The driver wheeled it around, and headed off at a fast trot, as both Holmes and I caught the next one out, and away from the scene.
** * **
*CONCLUSION/EPILOGUE:*
And, so ended the dreadful affair of both Moriarty’s return, and “The Devonshire Epicurean Society”.
Well, almost - not quite, however.
During the subsequent raid on the Devonshire mansion, there was found a large dog kennel, containing four or five rather large, vicious, hungry mastiffs, to whom - it was later learned - were fed the inedible “left-overs”. A makeshift crematorium was also discovered, to dispose of any skeletal remains.
The weeks to come were a flurry of both scandal and horror by the public. The exact details of this venal group’s crimes were mercifully kept out of the Fleet Street papers, by gentle - though thorough - persuasion by both Holmes and Scotland Yard. Instead, they referred to the discovery of the fates of previously missing young women as the work of an entirely new breed of criminal, in the wake of the now infamous “Jack the Ripper” serial killers. The perpetrators, most prominently those of noble rank, strenuously denied any knowledge of the “ingredients” of their ghoulish dinners, feigning indignation in return! As often happens in such events, through subtle influence from the “very top” - in effect, the Crown - no charges were brought against any of them. “Rank had its’ privileges,” indeed! Their parts in the gruesome affair gradually faded from the limelight. Other charges, from “accessory to murder,” to lesser ones, were successfully brought and prosecuted against the Clemstra woman and several other of the “kitchen staff”, and they ended up serving time in one or two of His Majesty’s prisons.
As for the cannibal “chefs,” Gurgurant and Ludovico, they were deported to their home countries of both Germany and Spain, respectively, where their eventual fate remains a mystery to this very day. The diabolical Msr. Dolcett was also extradited to France, where a most sensational trial was promised. However, after some delay, a group of noted physicians of the day, mainly psychiatrists, including our good friend Dr. Freud, examined his mental state and declared him mentally unfit to stand trial. Whereupon, the French justices ordered him confined to their most prominent asylum for the criminally insane, where much to both Holmes’ and my regret, he remains to this day, virtually unpunished! It is said he spends much of his waking hours sketching and painting - as “medically-ordered therapy” - some of the most morally-unsettling and revolting scenes, involving mainly nude, beautiful young women being “tortured” by both skewering and roasting them alive on demonic spits, as well as other sadistic methods. And, much like his notorious countryman and predecessor, the Marquis de Sade, said “artworks” are then smuggled out of his keep, and sold on a clandestine black market, to the most depraved of “collectors”, where they fetch quite a tidy sum, so I’ve heard.
Of worthy note: at that time, as well as of this writing, there were (and are still) no laws on the British books prohibiting cannibalism! The same alarming situation existed on the Continent, as well. Holmes’ brother Mycroft, through his Whitehall and Diogenes Club connections, lobbied both the Prime Minister, as well as our new king, Edward II, to enact new legislation to remedy this. While efforts were made, and debate began in Parliament, the effort eventually proved fruitless. Even though the House of Commons approved it unanimously, it soon stalled out in the House of Lords, either inexplicably or, indeed, expectedly, and the campaign eventually died out.
As for the underground “cannibal café society” revealed to us by the evil Professor on that fateful spring evening, there were actually some indications - mysteriously-disappearing young girls and women, shadowy gatherings at night, whispered about in only elite circles - of such a hideous network in various countries, notably France, Italy, Spain, the Netherlands, and most ominously, Germany. Of course, there was never enough hard evidence found to stand up in court, especially now that their ringleader - Moriarty - was gone from this life. “A conspiracy of silence”, Holmes termed it.
On the matter of further criminal charges, it was my very real worry that both he and I - due to our charade at that awful dinner party - might formally be charged with “desecration of the dead.” However, after some formal negotiations with both the Yard, and the King’s Bench, with Lestrade serving as our go-between, it was understood that these said indignities were unavoidable as a matter-of-course during our investigation, and we were eventually cleared.
As for the most unfortunate family of the poor, dear Miss Audrey Ermine, Holmes took it upon himself to formally notify them of her death, avoiding any upsetting details, other than to gravely offer that it had occurred under “the most dreadful of circumstances.” The humble Mr. Ermine and his equally dear wife took this news as best they could, but it was heart wrenching still, as they grieved and mourned for their tragic loss! Because Holmes had received some of the reward monies offered by both the families of the missing young girls, and the police, he offered to pay for both her funeral service and burial, at their home in Yorkshire - closed casket, of course. During the church choir’s rendition of the traditional hymn “Jerusalem,” as I stood next to my friend in the pew, I’d thought - just for a moment or so - I’d caught a glimpse of a tear in the corner of his eye! I could scarce believe it as, save for that fateful night, I’d practically never before seen such a public display of outright sentiment on his part! Then, I’d remembered that this particular song was one of Holmes’ favorites, and thought nothing more of the matter.
And as for the rescued girls and young women - most were all joyously reunited with their respective concerned families, and worked to put the awful affair behind them as quickly as possible. But - most curiously, at least several of them soon voiced the genuine, sincere desire to return to the scene of the crime, and even resume their intended fates as prospective “girl-roasts!” Once again, our eminent colleague Dr. Freud was called in to consult, and after examining the young ladies, pronounced his diagnosis of “brain-washing” by the fiendish Dolcett and his accomplices, and prescribed a lengthy regimen of what he termed “de-programming,” a revolutionary new psychiatric concept for its time, as the only cure.
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