FOXAQUE BAMBOOZLES BÆÈLZEBUB, 1928. part 2.

The devil, you see, was not the traditional fire and brimstone, smelly, horned fellow the Christians would have you believe. No. he was one of many: these people had, in fact, cross bred over centuries throughout the world’s aristocratic and ruling classes. They were industrialists, political figures (kingmakers rather than public servants), military leaders, empire builders, slave traders, famous and skilful artists or musicians. All were immensely rich and influential. They had refined and subtle ways of manipulating those they wished to rule, and if that didn’t work, they had immeasurable resources of thugs and brutality to persuade a stubborn mind. To wager your soul with such a person was purely symbolic in many ways. You were really wagering everything you had, materially and socially, your very identity. It was a short cut to the top. If you won, you joined the shadowy “influencial” class. If you lost, it was off to the gutter and slums, joining all the halfwits, prostitutes, alcoholics, drug addicts, criminals, scrubbers and servile plebeians, with little chance of bettering yourself. Certainly, no one had ever regained their former status. Not even near…

Now Foxaque never liked to play on a sticky wicket as a rule and he sensed things were not quite right. Added to which, he was keenly aware of the fresh scent of shaven cunt wafting into his nostrils, making him dizzy and distracted. The two young nobles had fixed expressions – drawn and agitated. Unknown to Foxaque at that time, the two young men (Rudolph and Dimitry) had, in the haze of drunken bavado, decided they would compete at cards with the Devil. They would risk their reputations, influence, future lands & titles, their very souls. They were eager for power and glory, desperate to match the heroic exploits of their older siblings and cousins who ad fruitlessly laid down their lives in the Great War. They would have stood to inherit multiple titles and lands by now had not their Parents been relatively young. Foxaque hoped to god there wouldn’t be another war, else who would be left to lead a rudderless Britain if we splash the remains of the ruling classes upon another futile conflict? Imagine the kind of politicians we would end up with!!?? Even more bent than the aristos… back to Rudolph and Dimitry, though. Now these two were competitive and not averse to dropping each other in the shit… Prince Lois, of course, knew this and took full advantage, gently playing one against the other (as any sensible royal figure would do to keep his barons under control). The two Masonic Nobs subtley followed suit, being older and wiser, and worked the two naïve young men. The politician, who looked uncannily like, if not was, Winston Churchill, smelt blood too and played for an easy get out by exploiting their rivalry in his own insidious way, learnt in the corridors of Westminster and the cloisters of his own expensive education: banter, confusion, snide quips and the usual array of bullshit that any decent politician has in his survival armoury.

The industrialist and foreign military officer seemed indifferent and were clearly playing for their own reasons.

Foxaque’s thoughts were elsewhere, though. Nonetheless, he had worked himself what seemed like a winning hand and had scrawled himself an IOU note promising only a few pints of ale in a pub of Lois’ choice. Foxaque wasn’t taking it seriously. Quell surprise…? He wasn’t in the mood to gamble that evening anyway…

He was, o the other hand, in the mood for pleasure. The Amazonique attendant had been leaning over him for more than he could ignore. She would run her fingers through his hair and whisper breathily into his ear for “Refill?”. Foxaque glanced down to the opening in her gown, revealing, to his satisfaction, that she was indeed naked underneath, and hairless. Foxaque Confidently and discretely slipped a hand in the opening and found her to be more than receptive. She squeezed the bulge in his britches. It wasn’t Foxaque’s pocket watch she felt ticking, for sure. Before he could compose himself, his cock had been loosed from his trouser flies and a skillfull mouth was gently obliging him.

At this point, a number of events in quick succession caused utter pandemonium. As Foxaque was enjoying his blowjob, he calmly realised why all, bar the two young men, were perfectly placid and relaxed. As this pleasing revelation hit home, raised voices erupted from across the table.

“You swindler!” cried Dimitry, jumping to his feet, pointing an accusatory finger at, surprisingly, his own companion. The politician leered. Prince Lois raised an eyebrow in mock surprise and oh! So painfully smooth nonchalance.

“how dare you!” shouted Rudolph, shaking with pure indignation, “How dare you say such a thing!” now rising to his feet, his trousers undone for some reason. “You Shit!” he continued, in his defence, “I’ve trusted you precious little and now I know why!” he punched his accuser. Pointing, he resumed “have that! I never saw you shed a tear for your fallen brothers, covetous cunt! And now you dare to accuse me of a thing that comes all too easily to you?!!”

As he raged, retainers and servants rushed from the shadows of the room. Although small and seemingly old, Prince Lois’ servants were fast getting the better of their charge as they tried to restrain him. Not that any of this was shocking in itself. It was more common than you might think when playing cards with the devil. Foxaque, not wanting to loose his new playmate gripped her air and neck. He was on the home straight and cared little for her need to breath. As Foxaque squirmed and postured ready to shoot his bolt, Dimitry did suddenly brandish a small revolver and fired a round into the chest of his sometime friend, all the while shouting furiously, “damn you to Bæeelzebub and rot in the flaming circles of Hades, you self-righteous wanker!” and so he did. All faces jumped with surprise, except Foxaque who was busy emptying his sacks, not that the others noticed. Yet more servants darted from th shadows. Before they could grapple with the wild eyed Rudolph, the military officer sprang from his seat, throwing aside, until that moment, a concealed usherette and whipped out a pistol. Surprise upon surprise! Quickly followed by distaste: the officer was also sporting a glistening erection protruding from his uniform, freshly cocked but as yet to be discharged. Rudolph, whilst struggling with no less than two of Prince Lois’ wrinckled retainers, brought is revolver to bare on the new threat, but too late. 2 shots burst in quick sequence. The first put pay to Rudolph, but in so doing, Rudolph indiscriminately off-loaded a round into the eye of the industrialist, the back of his skull and contents therein,spattered across Churchillk’s face. The industrialist had been leaning over the table at the time reaching for his money, a large wad at that. Foxaque looked on, glazed, still unloading his own wad into the mouth of the poor unfortuneate twixt his thighs. The bound notes of money that the industrialist was reaching for was somehow flicked into Foxaque’s lap just as his obliging attendant rolled away, spluttering her recent gift upon the grubby, unwashed shagpile. Two and a half thousand pounds swiftly following a good gobble. And in cash! Anarchy ensued. Foxaque grabbed the cash and his still throbbing, dripping cock and instinctively rolled under the table. As he did so, another pistol shot tore through the back of Foxaque’s freshly vacated chair. The officer (and his little sergeant), grappling with a fresh wave of satan’s staff, ad accidentally shot one off into Foxaque’s seat. He was disarmed and the gun was catapulted from his grip and bounced off Prince Lois’ brow, knocking him back, upending his seat, leaving his pointy Italian shoes signalling all to look up! “Police!” shouted somebody from the hallway. Anyone still alive scrambled for the door, still scuffling and landing blows in the gloom.

Foxaque was high with the excitement of events and rushed out with the others, his cock still hanging from his trousers. Cash in hand, he grabbed his overcoat. The panicked usherette he’s first met was still at the door, wishing a goodnight to each person leaving, not knowing quite what to do with herself. Foxaque ran towards her. She was aghast and thrilled to see so many well dressed men run past with their tackles out. Foxaque, in his passion, gathered her up and kissed her. She was shocked again! He released her to exit the house but on second thoughts turned quickly before doing so and grabbed her by the hand, puling her into the night air, escaping to the shadows of dark alleyways to sin anew with his fresh catch…