Chapter 4.

The naked figure of a man tossed and turned in anguish on his bed. In the minutes before waking Henry Jekyll relived the events of the previous night in nightmarish flashes of Jacqueline Hyde's memories. A silver-topped cane, his cane, lashing out savagely and cutting deeply into the temple of a rough-looking man. That same man staggered blindly inside an alleyway with blood coursing down his face as he was stalked and struck again. Finally, the image looks down as he sits astride the victim as he lies face down on cobbles and repeatedly strikes him on the back of the head until all movement ceases. Time skipped and his next blurred images were of fleeing through the narrow streets of Whitechapel as police whistles sounded behind him in pursuit.

The nature of Henry's dream changed abruptly. McTaggert, his head nurse was pinned against the wall, her face flushed and clearly in the throes of passion as his hand frotted her sex. The nurse again, now slipping her nightrobe off her shoulders and letting it fall to stand brazenly naked for his inspection. Jekyll agitated thrashing calmed with this less disturbing subject, his penis stiffening as he dreamt to admirable hardness. Finally in the moments before his eyes snapped open a scene reflected in a mirror of the nurse and the same raven-haired beauty from his erotic dream the previous morning with bodies conjoined in a narrow bed with hands between one another's thighs and both crying out and writhing in ecstasy.

Sitting up abruptly in his bed Henry stared about in confusion as he took stock of his circumstances on waking. He was stark naked in his room, although it was his unbroken habit to wear a long nightshirt while sleeping. His phallus was as rigidly erect as it had been yesterday upon waking. His clothing of the previous evening was discarded carelessly and strewn about the floor. He thought hard, trying to recall the events of the previous night, but the last clear memory he had was of footsteps closing on him from behind before being thrust roughly into an alleyway and colliding against a wall. That alleyway he realised with shock was the same as the brief images of his nightmare concerning a man being surely beaten to ****.

Rising from the bed Henry briefly glanced at his tall dressing mirror, despite his concerns gratified by the sight of his stiff member and the relief from his long-endured impotence that his serum seemed to provide. He gathered up his clothing, meaning to have them laundered at the earliest convenience by the washerwoman that serviced the asylum. As he retrieved his overcoat however he discovered the spatter and streaks of dark rust-red stains that were almost certainly dried blood. Those indistinct images from his fevered dream of beating a man with his cane were immediately brought to the fore of his mind. Hoping he was mistaken in the inevitable conclusion he reached, Henry looked around for his walking cane and saw that it lay on a chair's seat. Snatching it up he discovered the silver top was missing, the cane splintered and broken and stained heavily with dry blood similar to his overcoat.

"My god!" Henry exclaimed as he sat back down on his bed, his legs unsteady with the horror that the disturbing images had been a reality.

"I was attacked, an attempted robbery no doubt," Jekyll muttered aloud, collecting his thoughts and trying to make reason of them. "I must have been concussed, not of sound mind. That beating, so savage and far beyond what was necessary for self-defence once that ruffian had fallen."

The Doctor pondered what action he should take in light of his deduction. His first instinct was to dress and report the incident forthwith to the police. He had after all acted in defense of his property and person. Yet his assumed killing of that man had gone much further than reasonable **** to protect himself, and he had fled from the police like a common criminal. There would surely be a trial, given those facts and even if exonerated his respected name would be mired in scandal. Reaching no clear decision between the paths of throwing himself on the mercy of the courts or remaining silent and praying the police proved incapable of linking Henry to the killing the Doctor decided to dress and begin his day as normal and determine a response shortly.

Dressed in a fresh suit, with his blood-soiled clothing temporarily hidden in his closet Jekyll proceeded from his room intending to maintain his usual routine of breakfast, consulting with staff members and attending the patients in his care. Checking his pocket watch before he slipped it into his breast pocket Henry was astonished to discover that he had slept far later than he was accustomed to. He was already a good half hour past the regular time for his meeting with senior staff members. Picking up his pace he proceeded directly to the asylum offices, foregoing his morning meal. Nurse McTaggart and his head orderly, a beefily muscled former soldier were already waiting and no doubt wondering at his unprecedented tardiness.

"McTaggart, Hudson," Jekyll greeted them of course by family name to avoid being overly familiar with the lower class. "My apologies, I had a strenuous night and overslept."

"Of course Doctor." The nurse answered, before asking, "Will your associate not be joining the meeting?"

Henry looked to McTaggart in a little surprise at her question. Doctor Granville, to whom he believed she was referring had little to do with the day-to-day administration and only generally attended on occasion when necessary. Jekyll found it difficult to look the tall nurse directly in the eyes with the guilty secret of his sordid and disjointed dreams of her unclothed and performing scandalous sexual acts. He answered quickly so that his attention to her might be brief.

"No, not this morning." He replied, averting his gaze and missing the regret in Nurse McTaggat's eyes that Jacqueline Hyde, whom she was asking after would not be making an appearance. "They have other duties that demand attention."

"Very good Sir." McTaggart hid her disappointment. "There is another Doctor here to consult with you on some matter he would not divulge. A Doctor Tumblety, an Irish gentleman. He does not have an appointment, but stressed his business was of the utmost urgency."

Doctor Jekyll furrowed his brow, it did not seem possible that Tumblety could manage to visit a solicitor and have the contract they had agreed drawn up overnight so he had no explanation for what business the man could have this morning. He was also loathe to be drawn back to Whitechapel where the Doctor held practice after the perceived event of last night. Hopefully whatever matter was to be discussed would not necessitate him venturing back to that impoverished borough.

"Oh yes, Doctor Tumblety," Henry grumbled. "I will meet with him once we are done here."

"Sir Francis Dashwood was scheduled for examination this morning Doctor Jekyll," Hudson spoke up, reminding Henry of the appointment.

"Ah, yes. Of course. That was a simple routine though." Henry responded airily. "Reschedule the examination for this evening. I have important research I will be detained with for most of the day. See that he is moved to the secure examination room and restrained beforehand and I will deal with him as soon as time allows."

The remaining matters of the staff meeting were mundane and dealt with perfunctorily before Jekyll dismissed his underlings to be about their duties. After the medical staff went their separate ways Henry went directly to his private office to discover what matter Tumblety considered so pressing to have visited in the early morning.

"Good morning Henry old chap." Tumblety greeted him effusively with a somewhat disturbing and sly smile. "Glad to see that you are well, and as far as I can judge uninjured."

The Irish Doctor's strange remark was alarming. It was, Henry deduced carefully worded to put him off balance and intimated that Tumblety somehow knew at least part of what had transpired yesterday evening. He took his time taking the seat behind his desk so that he could collect his thoughts and appear impassive. That the Doctor was here in person and had not gone to the police with whatever facts or suspicions he held was odd.

"Quite well as you can plainly see Tumblety." Henry declared. "Was there some specific reason for you to think otherwise or is this simply a strangely timed social visit."

"Henry," Tumblety chuckled and smirked horribly. "Yesterday evening an hour or two after we parted ways I was roused from my bed by the constabulary seeking my medical assistance. A man had been brutally slain just a short distance from my practice and the police requested that I examine the body you see."

"I see, most troubling I imagine," Jekyll replied neutrally. "Please go on."

"I was easily able to ascertain the cause of **** and the manner in which it was delivered." Tumblety paused for dramatic effect. "A most shocking and furious ****, the man's wrist had been broken as he tried to ward off the attack. His assailant though had continued to beat him most violently, helpless though he was. The final **** blows were certainly delivered once the man was already **** and had ceased all resistance."

Henry thought once more of the disturbing nightmare, the facts as Tumblety described them matched entirely the brief snatches of the horrible dream he had before waking. He remembered his broken walking cane and its missing head, Tumblety had obviously seen it at the crime scene and recognised it. That he was telling Henry this fact and not a detective from Scotland Yard indicated he planned to use the information for extortion.

"A piece of a monogrammed silver-topped walking cane was found near the body, freshly coated in blood." Tumblety leaned back grinning, secure in the belief that he held the upper hand in the game he was playing. "Your cane, of course, Henry. I recognised it at once."

"Enough of these games Tumblety," Henry raised his voice, outraged at the man's effrontery. "I will not deny it. I was attacked and defended myself."

"Of course, of course," Tumblety said soothingly. "I confess I am somewhat impressed, Sykes was not a small man and had a history of ****. That you could thrash such a man to **** is quite a feat of athleticism. The police are convinced a younger, fitter man is responsible. An error I did not disabuse them of."

"In my conversation with Inspector Abberline, the chap that has been in the papers of late with the gruesome stabbings of prostitutes in Whitechapel." The Irish Doctor continued. "Well, he is already of the opinion that Bill Sykes was slain while attempting a robbery or perhaps in **** for a past crime. The man was known for it and had been incarcerated off and on all his life for **** of various descriptions. Even the whores at my practice attested to the fact that he regularly robbed them of their earnings and demanded their services without payment and frequently beat them if they resisted."

"Detestable though the man was, the savagery with which he was killed while helpless went much further than anyone could consider reasonable ****." The Irishman stated a fact Henry himself could not argue against. "Now I, as an honest man told the truth to the good detective. He did not think to ask me if I recognised the cane or if I had suspicions of who wielded it and I saw no reason to volunteer such information unprompted."

"The price, Tumblety?" Jekyll said curtly, as it was obvious he was being blackmailed. "What is it that you want?"

"You do me an injustice, Henry." Tumblety protested in poorly feigned indignation. "I simply held my tongue as a boon from one gentleman to another. It would be a shame to see your name and your person dragged through the courts even though I have no doubt you would eventually be acquitted. Your noble clients that pay you handsomely to lock away their embarrassing relatives would certainly withdraw their patronage at even a hint of scandal."

"Though it did occur to me after reflection," Tumblety paused as if only now fully considering his next statement. "That our business arrangement is a little onesided don't you think? I mean to say, I will be handling the bottling, distribution and marketing of the serum while your part in the venture is simple to scribble a formula on a bit of paper and hand it to me. In hindsight perhaps three-quarters of the profit for myself and a quarter to you might be a fairer division."

Henry was amazed that Tumblety was selling his silence so cheaply. The money to be earned from the serum, though considerable, was in real terms irrelevant to Jekyll as he was comfortably wealthy already. He had to stifle a derisive laugh at Tumblety's demanded Danegeld. The more worrying concern was, that just like paying Danegeld the blackmailer would likely return with further demands at regular intervals. He attempted to appear somewhat pained and **** lest Tumblety realise the price of his silence was pitiful.

"Yes, I can see your point." Henry at last agreed with a pained expression. "You can inform your solicitor that I agree to such a division."

"Splendid, I was sure that you would see reason with such a fairer split of the profit." Tumblety rose from his seat as if to make his leave. He could not resist a last chance to lord himself over Jekyll before departing though. "If you could just hurry along your mixing and whatnot of the formula it would be much appreciated old chap."

"I already intended to work on the formula once our meeting was concluded." Henry declared sourly. "The finished and perfected prescription will be in your hands presently."

With their business now concluded the two physicians shook hands, Henry with a certain amount of distaste and masked repulsion. Jekyll's course of action had been determined by this agreement, as Tumblety had correctly pointed out, odious as Henry considered him, the scandal alone could wreak irrevocable damage to the reputation of his asylum. He would, against his natural instincts, remain silent and pray the police investigation would be unable to link him to the killing of Bill Sykes. Once he was alone in his office Henry sighed deeply and sat heavily in his chair, running his hands through his thinning and greying hair in vexation. He slid open a drawer of his and retrieved a quart bottle and a glass to fortify his spirit with a snifter of brandy before continuing.

Doctor Jekyll had already planned to spend the major part of this day on further perfecting his serum. He was of the opinion that despite the unfortunate events that had happened there were no deleterious side effects besides the emergence of erotic dreams to injections of the serum. For use by the general public without access or competence to use syringes, he would need to modify the formula so that it was suitable for oral consumption. He made his way to his laboratory, mulling over the question of which palatable liquids might best serve as a medium into which to infuse his elixir so that it might be ingested and successfully absorbed into the bodily system.

Henry worked for most of that day on refining a greater quantity of the oestradiol, producing a fresh batch of the serum and testing various mundane liquids as a base for oral dosage. Jekyll became so engrossed in his chemistry and experimentation that he quite lost track of time and even the need to pause for meals or refreshments. His efforts were rewarded eventually with two moderately sized bottles of his improved serum sufficient for a dozen dosages apiece. The Doctor at last satisfied that he had a formula that even the oaf, Tumblety could replicate only needed to perform one final test. Henry poured a quantity of the serum into a small shot glass and after a moment's hesitation down the liquid in one swallow. Henry grimaced and shuddered, the medicine still had a bitter taste and there was a certain involuntary urge to regurgitate, but future addition of caster sugar or honey would make it more palatable.

Slipping out his pocketwatch Jekyll saw that the hour had advanced to the middle of the evening. Dashwood, if he had been delivered and secured as he had instructed Hudson his head orderly, would have been waiting for his examination for an hour or two already. Henry quickly brought his notes up to date and proceeded towards the examination room to deal with the disgraced nobleman before intending to head out from the asylum to dine. The dose of the serum in his stomach sat somewhat uneasily, stressing the need to make some additions to decrease its acidity. Unlocking the door and entering the secure room, Sir Francis had indeed been delivered and restrained as per his instruction.

"Jekyll, damn your eyes, man." Dashwood cursed. "I have been subject to this latest indignity for an eternity. Have you no respect for my breeding or station?"

Sir Francis had been secured to an examination bench by stout leather cuffs and belts buckled around his wrists, ankles and waist. A thick leather collar about his neck also prevented him from raising his head from the bench. Dashwood's straitjacket had of course been removed to facilitate his present restraint and his only garment was a cotton smock that reached from his neck down to his knees. The patient looked understandably agitated and frustrated as Henry approached him.

"Your privileges of rank were suspended from the moment you were committed, Sir Francis." The Doctor reminded his charge. "Until I see fit to declare you no longer a threat to society you will be treated as I deem necessary to protect myself and my staff."

"Damn your blasted impertinence," Dashwood shouted, his face flushing with anger. "I would have had you flogged for this insult."

Henry ignored the idle threat and with practised efficiency carried out the routine medical examination to ensure himself of Sir Francis' continued bodily health. As the Doctor finished writing his report and affirming officially that the patient was of overall good physical health he suddenly let out a pained groan and clutched at his stomach. He could hear Sir Francis laughing at his discomfort as he turned and staggered towards the door to the room. He felt the strength drain from him and he fell to his knees before reaching the exit, and Dashwood watching from the examination bench could see his body writhing and trembling. The insane nobleman's gloating laughter suddenly ceased in an exclamation of shock and surprise.

"What in the devil's name?" Sir Francis exclaimed, staring from his restrained position with difficulty.

Doctor Jekyll's short grey hair sprouted and darkened to a glossy black and tumbled over his collar and down to his shoulder blades in loose curls. Dashwood's eyes went wide with disbelief as the Doctor's body seemed to remould itself like clay under a potter's hands and his clothing loosened in some areas and tightened in others as his body mass shifted. Jekyll's rear end visibly swelled, straining the seat of his trousers. Dashwood, even in his confused mental state at witnessing such a seemingly impossible transformation looked upon the tautly rounded buttocks with an appreciative and lecherous eye. The shifting of Jekyll's body came to an end and the figure of the Doctor slowly rose from their knees and turned around to regard Sir Francis staring at them open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

"Well, this is certainly an inconvenient reawakening." Jacqueline Hyde declared, looking around the room to assess the situation she had reemerged into.

While any sane person witnessing such a transmogrification would have been overcome by horror and fear, Sir Francis, once he had recovered from the initial shock seemed elated and enthused. He stared at the sultry dark-haired wench that had manifested before his eyes and supplanted the elderly Doctor in obvious excitement. His eyes roved over her from raven curly hair, beautiful dark-eyed face down to ripe breasts filling the waistcoat to the point of bursting and beyond to her slim waist and wide hips. His excitement was palpable as he acknowledged the truth he had witnessed without a shred of disbelief or denial.

"Oh, glorious day." Dashwood cried in exultation. "I have been proven sane despite the denial of lesser minds. Sorcery and the magics forgotten to modern men and their so-called scientific facts are real indeed."

"Tell me your nature I beg of you." He implored the somewhat bemused Hyde. "Are you a demon, a witch or a goddess of ancient pantheon returned to Earth?"

Jacqueline Hyde considered the strapped figure and turned her consideration to how to best deal with this witness to her reappearance. The secret of Hyde and Jekyll's shared existence was not one she could allow to spread. Sir Francis Dashwood, who she had instantly recognised from Henry's memories was securely restrained. It would be light work for Hyde to throttle or smother him as he lay helpless and leave little trace of blatant **** and the prospect of snuffing the life from him filled her with dark relish. Sir Francis though was exceedingly wealthy, and before his apprehension and commitment to this asylum had a retinue of likewise debauched allies. He would make a useful and powerful tool if she could assert her control over him.

"Sir Francis Dashwood." Hyde tilted her head in greeting, her voice husky and seductive as she addressed him. "Which of those options would you prefer me to be? Perhaps I am a demoness, spawned from some pit of hell or then again I may be the goddess Hecate returned. Then again I might just as well be a witch transported through time by dark and powerful magic."

"You know my name?" Dashwood asked in surprise. "Then your manifestation is no accident, my prayers to the dark powers were answered. Name your price and share your secrets and power with me I beg you. So long have I waited and studied the occult and arcane mysteries attempting to unlock mystic powers."

Hyde smirked, the man was clearly insane. She stepped up to the restraint bench and looked down at Dashwood as if staring into his soul. Her hand came to rest on his thigh, just above the knee and slowly slid up raising with it the hem of the cotton medical gown. Jacqueline cupped Dashwood's testicles in her palm, ensconced in his cell and straitjacketed it had been many days since the swollen sacks had the opportunity to empty and his testes were swollen and heavy in her hand. She giggled as Sir Francis flushed red and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Jacqueline's fist tightened around the weighty sack and Dashwood moaned loudly though the discomfort appeared to excite him even further. Hyde saw the simple smock he wore shift as Dashwood became erect and his phallus tented the material upwards. Releasing his testicles Jacqueline snatched up the hem of the smock and revealed the engorged member that had been concealed beneath.

"Astonishing," Hyde breathed, her turn to be awed by a sudden revelation. Her dark eyes were riveted by the sight of the monstrous manhood she had uncovered. "A donkey would be put to shame by such a magnificent cock."

Dashwood's penis was near as thick as Hyde's womanly wrists and its length rivalled that of her slender forearm. The impressive member jerked with the steady pump of blood engorging it and thick veins stood out along the length of the shaft. The dark purple head was only slightly smaller than Jacqueline's petite balled fist and seemed ready to burst from the pressure that had swollen it. Hyde stroked the throbbing member in rapt fascination, feeling its heat and hardness with slim fingers that barely encompassed its girth.

"You wish a fucking?" Sir Francis cried feverishly, pulling against his restraints. "Release me, and I will fuck you to insensibility if that is the price you desire for your knowledge."

Jacqueline giggled with amusement at the offer, her hand gripped the thick shaft tighter and she slower pumped her fist up and down the stiff rod. The man's rigid meat throbbed in her grasp, she could feel the pulse of his blood through the inflated veins beneath her fingers. She turned her head to stare Dashwood in the face and tutted, giving him a shake of her head and an exaggerated sad expression.

"I think not Sir Francis." She told him. "I shall be the one to fuck you."

Hyde took a couple of steps back away from the restraint bench and with deliberately slow action she began to disrobe. Dashwood watched this salacious spectacle, quite literally drooling with lust as Jacqueline's ripe and curvaceous body was incrementally revealed to his avaricious gaze. Standing naked before the bound man Hyde felt a sense of power that her body could engender such fierce desire in the madman. Dashwood strained and thrashed against the cuffs and straps holding him to the bench, overcome with his need to seize hold of the brazen Jezebel and fuck her into submission. Jacqueline, once fully divested of all clothing, approached the bench once more.

Climbing atop the bench, Jacqueline straddled Dashwood's upper legs so that his huge shaft reared up between her spread thighs and the tight ebony curls of her mons tickled his erect phallus. Gripping his shaft once more, now with both her hands wrapped around the rigid flesh, Hyde chuckled as she jerked his penis roughly. Hyde could feel her sex becoming wetter as both the power she held over the nobleman and the prospect of feeling his thick hardened rod within her stimulated her cruel and decadent urges. Sir Francis was now frantically struggling against his bonds, with an almost inhuman strength born of his insanity. His efforts proved so violent that the cuff about his right wrist was wrenched from the staples affixing it to the bench.

"Harlot, whore, witch," Dashwood screamed as his hand, now freed, shot upwards and seized Hyde by her slender neck. "Release me this instant or I will snap your neck like a twig."

Hyde felt Sir Francis tighten his fingers on her throat and the breath cut from her body. Incredibly, Jacqueline felt an inappropriate calm and surge of arousal evoked by the dangerous situation. She strongly doubted Dashwood could snap her neck onehanded, despite the strength he had proven by wrenching free his hand. He could though unquestionably **** the life from her with the grip he had around her windpipe. Her hands left his cock and she gripped his wrist and tried to pull his hand from her neck, but his grip was unshakable. Her mouth opened and closed, vainly attempting to draw in breath but only succeeded in emitting a raspy croak.

"Hah! No demon or goddess requires breath." Sir Francis gloated. "A witch you are then, and mortal. No spell can come from those lips to save you without breath to form words. Undo my bindings I say while you still have life left to obey me."

Hyde abandoned her attempt to loosen the grip on her throat and instead, her hands descended one more between her straddling thighs. Jacqueline gripped Dashwood's shaft once more, directing the rod as she raised her hips from her tormentor's body. She wrenched at the engorged cock so that the swollen plum of its tip mashed up and down the cleft of her labia and **** apart her netherlips. With a heave of her body, Hyde thrust down upon the tumescent flesh and half the length of Dashwood's stiffened penis impaled her slick sheath. Had she been capable of uttering a sound Hyde would have screamed aloud at the sensation of her vaginal passage stretching wide to encompass the rigid flesh. Her vision was darkening rapidly through lack of oxygen, but Hyde **** herself to motion, raising her hips only to thrust herself downwards once more. With a supreme effort, she repeated this motion, rising and falling upon Dashwood's big veiny cock.

"Fuck! You brazen slattern." Sir Francis swore vehemently as he felt the warmth of Jacqueline's sheath like a hot and wet vice around his member. "As soaked in sin and as debauched as I."

The pressure of the fingers at Hyde's throat lessened a fraction and she was able to draw in a single rasping breath before they tightened once again. The violent and abusive congress continued in this fashion, with Dashwood controlling Jacqueline's breath with care so that she remained half suffocated, but allowing her to draw a breath at irregular intervals so that she might remain conscious. Hyde's hips continued to rise and fall, the shaft within her absorbed fractionally deeper with each downward thrust of her body. Sir Francis had a remarkable constitution and willpower, but it had been many weeks since he had the opportunity to feel the embrace of a woman's sex about his phallus. After a few minutes of the hot caress of slick soft flesh about his shaft, the madman was sweating and groaning loudly with the effort of withholding his seed.

"You evil witch. Lillith, Jezebel, Hecate," Dashwood shouted out. "Receive my unholy sacrament."

Jacqueline felt a hot flood deep within her core as the man beneath her succumbed to the motion of her body around his trapped cock and his bloated testes unleashed a veritable stream of his male seed. She could feel surge after surge of the fluid essence of life roiling in her intimate depths. The grip on her throat slackened considerably as Dashwood's concentration and resolve evaporated with the ecstasy of his long-denied release. At last, she was able to seize his wrist with both her hands and pull his hand from her slender neck. Instead of using the opportunity of this respite from his grip and attention to escape and scramble clear of Dashwood's reach, Hyde **** his arm back to the surface of the bench and held it there. The rise and fall of Jacqueline's loins grew more frantic and **** as she rode Sir Francis with savage ferocity seeking her climax instead of safety.

Sir Francis stared up at Hyde, astonished that she chose her own gratification rather than ensure her evasion of the threat he posed. He could feel his seed issuing from her stretched vulva each time she descended on his manhood. The hot fluid dribbled down his shaft to soak his ballsack and puddle on his belly. Jacqueline's face was red and soaked in sweat that stuck strands of her curled hair to her temple and she bore an expression of such intense lust that even the hardened libertine was shocked by her feral ardour. He watched as her face screwed up and her mouth opened wide as she screeched and screamed with emotional intensity as her paroxysm took hold. The vaginal passage clamped harder around his flesh, the walls of her sheath fluttering as her internal musculature spasmed uncontrollably and her entire body shook and trembled with her spending.

"Magnificent!" Sir Francis breathed, in genuine awe of Hyde's determination and sexual appetite.

Hyde's body sagged forward with the draining of her energies in the fugued state of post-coital release. Her lustrous hair swept across Dashwood's face as she fell upon him, firm ripe breasts cushioning her collapse onto his body. His cock still embedded deep in her trembling body, Sir Francis felt every twitch of her sheath's muscles as her climax slowly ebbed and Jacqueline lay sprawled over him thoroughly exhausted by her paroxysm.