Hawkins arrives before long to explain himself

"Miss Lucy," Hawkins called through the compartment door.

"Come in, Hawkins," Lucy said.

Hawkins joined Lucy and Chop-chop in the compartment they shared with Chop-chop's precious box of knives and Ruddigore Fitch, who hid behind his Times.

Hawkins gave Lucy and Cook a summary of how things were going at Old Netherwood. Hawkins listed the current staff, and Lucy copied them onto paper using a pencil. There were pens which would work on a railway train, but as a rule, they resulted in a blotchy mess on the paper.

At the next stop, Mr. Fitch left the train. Lucy thanked him again for the loan of his electric torch.

"Now you can tell us the real story," Chop-chop said. "What's not right and who's to blame. And how we happened to find you and the conductor."

Hawkins nodded. He went through a story of what was running poorly. He called out a couple of junior servants with troubles.

"We'll learn 'em, I'm sure," Chop-chop said.

Hawkins sighed. "And as to myself and the conductor, well...let me say that it is a habit cultivated from some of my experiences while I was a junior footman."

Lucy and Carlotta listened attentively.

"When I had been long enough in the house to have thought I knew its ways and its people," Hawkins said. "I fancied myself the brightest young man amongst the staff. And seeing, as I did, that the unmarried staff had particular friends, I began to have hopes in that direction, as any young man would."

Carlotta curled her lip.

Hawkins cleared his throat. "My hope took aim at a chambermaid, Phoebe, as bright and lively in her way as I fancied myself to be. I do not know which of us first fixed the other's eyes, but there was some time of glances back and forth. Then some words of admiration. Little things. 'You're looking fine, today, Phoebe.' and the same back from herself." Hawkins looked up to the side, then back to Chop-chop and Lucy. "Words turned to touches. Brushing by one another in the corridor. Striking poses for one another, reaching up or bending down when the other was looking. And then one evening we stole away together to a chamber where we thought we would not be disturbed."

Lucy nodded. Chop-chop held her sour look.

"For twenty-five minutes I thought I had found Paradise," Hawkins said. "But just as I had ungirt my loins and hers on the point of storming Phoebe's final gate, old Bookman entered."

"The old butler," Lucy said. "Four years gone, is it?"

Chop-chop sniffed. "Five."

Hawkins hung his head, then raised it to continue. "Bookman had caught us dead to rights. He did nothing -- had almost nothing to say to Phoebe, though maybe he talked to the housekeeper later. To me -- not content with threatening my situation, not content with berating me, with thrashing me with his stick -- you remember his stick?"

"I do," Lucy said.

"Beyond all that, he bent me over a settee, opened his trousers and **** himself upon me until he spent in my bum," Hawkins said.

Lucy's face softened with pity. Chop-chop looked more sour yet.

"I suppose it did have the intended effect," Hawkins said. "Phoebe never teased or flirted with me any more. She was always short and all business with me after that. I was feeling rather sorry for myself for a good long time. A footman has to put on a good face when called on, and I was having trouble with that. Got dressed down for it a couple of times. But Cook," he paused for a second, "I mean, our cook, Frau Baum, she took me aside and made me tell her what was wrong. She made me open my trousers. She exclaimed how beautiful my prick was and made me toss off in front of her. After that, I was her special friend."

"Greta's old enough to be your mum!" Cook exclaimed.

Hawkins hung his head for a moment.

"Yes," he said. "She made herself my Mutti. And I was her naughty little boy. It started out with Frau Baum spanking me and watching me toss myself off. Standing behind me in front of a mirror, putting two fingers up my bum and tossing me off. Sometimes she'd let me suck on her bosoms when she played with my prick."

"What put you onto men?" Lucy asked.

"Well, not so much men, you now," Hawkins said. "I'm no nancy boy."

Cook snorted, "Hmmph. Looked like a man sitting on your prick."

"Well, men have their advantages," Hawkins said. "Can't get him pregnant, and you and he both know it's all for fun."

Lucy narrowed her eyes. She knew indirectly through Lady C's circles that men's men had their grand romances as much as ladies' ladies. Perhaps not Hawkins.

"Gives me a bit more patience and a cooler eye when courting the ladies as well," Hawkins added.

Lucy looked at Hawkins skeptically. Chop-chop's visage showed scorn.

Hawkins continued, "But how did I get started? Frau Baum. Or rather her son Gunther. I had been Cook's, that is, Frau Baum's special naughty boy for a time. I begged to put my prick in her, and she laughed, but after many weeks she relented. But the invariable rule was I must take her from behind, and never more than two strokes in her Muschi; after that I must withdraw and put my prick into her Arsch. So you may be sure I made those two strokes very slow. I was her student every Sunday afternoon, after church. Frau Baum's arse was wonderfully warm and tight. She always would spend with my prick in her bum, her arse would squeeze down on my prick, and then I'd go right off." Hawkins cleared his throat. "Well, one time her son Gunther was visiting, he was some sort of trades apprentice down in the City on leave. I needed something from the pantry and used my key, and what did I find but that Gunther was giving his mum what I had been. The puppy was rogering his mum up the arse. I was rather put out, but Frau Baum insisted I stay and join in. Gunther's bum was as warm and tight as Mrs. Baum's. She cheered us on, her two naughty boys together. Gunther told me that with a prick like mine, I'd never lack for a welcome from fellows of his sort, and he showed me how to find them. Oft times all it would take was to wear my trousers tight enough to show off my prick, and understand the drift of the looks and words it got me. And that's that, I'd say."

"Thank you, Hawkins," Lucy said, before Cook could chime in with a tart remark. She cleared her throat. "Well, ladies, and gentleman," she said, nodding to Carlotta and to Hawkins, "Let us plan our grand entrance."