Cecille Farrington and the Bone Cup
Chapter One


FAIRHOLD HALL

Fairhold Hall was a staid, respectable residence for a member of the British aristocracy. It was large, brown, plain and rather dull-looking, set in front of impeccably groomed lawns and overly-manicured trees and had a rather pretentious fountain in the circle of the driveway just before the front doors. You could imagine the way it would look at night, with the large limousines pulling up while a fete was going on, the men getting out in their black tie and tails, the women in disdainful white outfits and a fur stole wrapped around their shoulders, sniffing with upraised noses at the footmen waiting to assist them up the four steps and through to the main gallery.

Gordon Simmons peered out of the passenger's seat of the taxicab. It felt so strange, sitting in a right-hand drive automobile, like they were on the wrong side of the road, like he should be grabbing the steering wheel and preventing a disaster every time another car came along. Why had he listened to Professor Williams anyway? "The only man for the job is Cecille Farrington." he had been told. He looked behind him, they hadn't had any cars following them, but he was still nervous. His hand touched the bag on his lap, the one the driver had wanted to stuff in the trunk, and he'd had to be very insistent upon keeping with him. Too many people wanted it for him to be letting it from his sight for a moment.

Cecille Farrington. What the hell kind of name was Cecille Farrington, anyway? He'd never even heard of the guy. He'd asked Professor Williams for the name of someone who could lead an expedition into the jungles of Central America, and been given the name in an instant and assured response. But he had his doubts. The son of a British lord? Men were trying to steal from him and maybe kill him and he was going to be protected by someone named Cecille?

Well, too late now. Maybe this Farrington man would merely help arrange an expedition, he couldn't imagine one with some stuffy aristocrat who would probably insist on bringing along servants and stopping for tea and such nonsense.

He paid the driver and walked up to the front door. One piece of civility was missing from the movies, how the heck do you announce yourself at a lordship's residence when there is no footman about to let you in and announce you? He looked. Oh, a doorbell! That answers that!

He rang it and it was reassuringly mundane, a shrill bell-like sound. And waited. Looked about. Those trees could hide someone with a rifle right now. Back at the door. Waited. Looked about. A shadow moved behind him, what was that? God! He rang the bell again and as he did, the door opened, revealing a tall, slightly plump man in his late forties or early fifties, balding head and gray hair were there was any. "May I help you, sir?" he said.

"Uh, I'm Gordon Simmons, I called to speak with Cecille Farrington." he said.

"Yes, sir, if you'll come with me."

Gordon had expected to led inside, but the butler stepped outside! Began to walk along a narrow sidewalk and Gordon stood where he was, stupidly. The butler stopped, looked behind him. "Come with me, sir."

"Oh." Gordon moved well as he could, the bag he had with him weighed some thirty-five pounds, not heavy but not easily carried, either.

"Would you like to leave the bag on the steps, sir, it will be attended to."

"No!" Gordon said, then again. "No, please, I need to keep it with me."

"Very well, sir." The butler turned and continued the walk.

All the way around the rather massive house, Gordon felt like a little puppy trotting after some master who had quite forgotten him. "Where is your master?"

"My master is in London, sir." the butler clarified. "Young master Cecille is in the conservatory."

"Oh." Gordon's opinion of Farrington was confirmed. Some effete putterer of orchids and roses, and he was to help Gordon cross some of the least explored areas of the Earth in search of the source of the bone cup.

The conservatory turned out to be rather massive. Imagine an onion, some thirty feet high, rounded and squat at the bottom and very narrow tapering top. Now stretch that onion out longitudinally until it was over a hundred feet long, and make it out of glass with heavy iron framework. Gordon recognized it. "Looks like the Crystal Palace." he said.

"It ought to, sir." the butler sniffed. "It was built by the same workman after the Fair by order of His Lordship's grandfather."

"Cecille's grandfather built this?" Gordon said, a polite conversational ploy. They'd been together over five minutes already and the silence was deafening.

"No, sir." the butler said almost scornfully. "His Lordship's grandfather."

"Oh." Gordon said. "You mean Cecille's great-grandfather. I mean, you said grandfather and I just assumed."

"Quite all right, sir." the butler cut him off. It was obvious that he was scum beneath this man's boots, Gordon gave up. This was going to be a very grotty meeting, just get through it and to the men who would really be helping him. This Cecille fellow could set it up.

The butler opened the conservatory door and Gordon blinked. No flowers here! It was.... "It looks like a swamp!" he said in surprise.

"It is a swamp, sir." the butler confirmed.

"Why would your...would Cecille Farrington build a swamp in a greenhouse?"

"Conservatory." the butler corrected him. "And it's where he keeps his alligators, sir."

"Alligators?"

"Mostly from your own country's state of Florida." the butler said. And after a pause, almost in agony. "His mother used the conservatory to grow her prize-winning gardenias. If you'll forgive me, sir, I'll leave you now. You in America are probably used to alligators and simply sweep them out of the way when you leave your house in the morning, but I have no intention of having my leg chewed on."

And with that, the butler closed the door on Gordon, trapping him in here!

"Hey!" Gordon said.

"Halloo!" came a voice.

"Hello?"

"Halloo!"

"I'm...I'm looking for Cecille Farrington?" Gordon called out. Looking around. Men with guns be damned, now he had to watch for things crawling at him! A man took his life in his hands walking in here, from the looks of it. He saw nothing to keep the alligators from just crawling out at him just as the butler said.

"You found him!" came the affirming call. "Be right with you." A splashing and tromping sound combined, he couldn't tell if this Cecille character was wading in water or walking on dry land...or both.

"Ah, try that, will you!" Cecille called out and there was a definite splash now. Like a man being pulled into the water by an alligator!

What followed did nothing to reassure Gordon. The sounds of a man grunting and a grumbling sound from the alligators, it sounded very much like the gators were winning!

Gordon looked around, saw a large stick with a loop on the end of it. It must be used on alligators, what else would you do with the damned thing! He grabbed it, dropped his bag where he was and took off. "I'm coming!" he called out as he dashed through the brush.

On the other side of that brush was a fairly deep pit and he ended up walking on air. "Yow!" he called out and he landed. The water was only about two feet deep but it had muck under it, thick mud and he stumbled and fell face-first into dirty, smelly water. As he submerged, he could hear them, hear the alligators grumbling. How many alligators could one man have!

He got above water again, splashing hard, trying to get to his feet.

"Stay where you are!" Cecille called out. "I'll save you!"

This from a man who was currently in a gator's clutches? "You'll save me?" Gordon said. "Who'll save you?"

Then he saw them. Alligators, four of them, coming at him. All in a group, making a sort of V-shaped attack force. "Yeow!" he said and turned. Any thought of helping Cecille had vanished, he was getting the hell out of here!

He splashed back to the bank he'd fallen from, the cliff turned out to be some seven feet high from his side, he found himself in somewhat shallower water, and a thick layer of mud at the edge. His shoes, simple slip-ons, were sucked off of his feet as he clambered up the bank. Something to hold onto, he needed something to hold onto!

But the grass lining the bank simply tore away when he caught and pulled on it, the ground was simply too wet to hold the roots in place. He tore handfuls of sod, turned to look back and yelped, and now he was ready to climb the bank by sheer force of will. Those alligators were closing in on him, they'd made a semi-circle and now the bank was his only route of escape.

And Cecille came tearing through the underbrush, appeared on the bank above him, tall, big and blond-haired. "There you are!"

"Help me!" Gordon said.

"Sure thing." Cecille said. "I'll just fetch the lasso and be right back."

"Uh, is that it out there?" Gordon said, pointing where he'd left the stick-and-loop, now floating in the water beyond the alligators.

"What's it doing out there?" Cecille said, apparently unconcerned about the alligators now closing in on Gordon.

"I was bringing it to you and landed in the water." Gordon said. "Yipes!" and he kicked at the nearest alligator.

Cecille's response was to dive over Gordon's head and into the water. Gordon saw the large form like a brawny superman flying over his head and then the water was splashing and Gordon's bare feet found purchase in the bank and he was up the bank and got not out of the water, but at least a couple of feet above water.

"Hey, there!" Cecille was shouting at the alligators. "Away with you! Move on! Nothing to knosh on here! On with you!"

The alligators paused, confused, and Cecille made menacing gestures at them and the alligators did, they cowed down and swam away, nonchalantly, like "Well, we didn't really want to eat him, just scare him a little." Much the way a group of schoolboys behave when caught in some minor naughtiness by a teacher who isn't going to punish them, just stop them.

"There now, are you all right?" Cecille called up to him.

Cecille stood there, a big man in the water up to his knees, a big smile on his grimy face. He wore a sleevless t-shirt and blue jeans, the very clothes worn by, well, by lower-class Americans!

His arms were large and his chest barrel was huge and his face was regular, lean-jowled, bright-eyed, the smile a perpetual feature on his mouth. This was a man who could bend a steel bar in his hands, or climb a mountainside without ropes and pitons...and who could fend off alligators at whim.

"You're Cecille Farrington?" Gordon asked him.

"That's me." Cecille said. "You must be Gordon. I see you've met my pets."

"Pets?"

"Sure, most people prefer dogs or cats, but I like my pets to have a little fight in them."

"So you raise alligators."

"That's right. I had a few crocs for a time, but they didn't adapt well to the climate. Alligators are a tougher breed and friendlier, too."

"Friendlier?"

"Sure, you saw them move off when I told them to." Cecille said. "They didn't really want to hurt you, just size you up. If they'd been really hungry, you wouldn't have stood a chance out here."

"Thanks for telling me that." Gordon said. "Can you find my shoes out there? I lost them in the mud."

"Here's one of them right here." Cecille said, he snatched it from where it was floating on the water and waded up, handed it up to Gordon. "I understand you have something to show me."

"Yes, something I picked up on a trip to Cunofrio." Gordon said.

"Ah, yes, I've been there." Cecille said.

"I found a little shop there that sells the products of the native Indians from the interior. I think some of his items came from the countries around Cunofrio, San Agosto, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica."

"Gordon." Cecille said quietly.

"Anyway, I picked up a cup the natives had made, a large, rather unusual looking thing, just as a present for my father. You know how it is, he had a birthday and I needed some little thing. My family has money, but we have a custom of buying little things for each other as presents, nothing flashy."

"Gordon, stay calm." Cecille said, his voice still low.

"Well, my father had it on his desk for a couple of days and then he called me in to his offices, he's the American ambassador for Cunofrio, and waiting there was also a couple of the local professors from Universidad de Cunofrio, and they all started asking me about where I'd bought the cup."

"Gordon, please be quiet and listen to me." Cecille said, a little louder.

"I told them and they asked if I knew what the cup was made out of. I told them a piece of animal bone, probably a cow, and they said no." Gordon went on. "I mean, that's what the local natives do, they carve spoons and bowls and cups out of animal thighbones and such, so I asked them what animal it was...."

"Gordon, shut up!" Cecille shouted.

Gordon said, "What? I was just telling you....."

"Quiet!" Cecille said in a lower voice, then very calmly, "Now, it's very important that you not make any sudden moves. Very slowly, look over to your left."

Gordon did. About three inches from his nose was the snout of a large alligator.

Gordon looked at the gator and the gator looked at Gordon and Gordon screamed, "Eeyah!"

The alligator opened its own jaws, but not to scream and Gordon just dived into the water. Well, he had planned to simply back away, but as he was on the edge of a steep embankment at the moment, diving was what resulted. Well, a sideways fall, anyhow. Okay, there was nothing graceful about it, he just screamed and plummeted!

The water broke his fall, with a plethora of noises and Gordon rose out of the water to see the gator sliding on its belly down the embankment towards him.

But Cecille again interceded. This time he intercepted the gator, and wrestled with it.

A roll resulted, over and over, Cecille and the alligator. The only thing that kept it from being terrifying is that Cecille was half again as large as the alligator and the outcome was never in doubt.

This let Gordon back away and up a smoother incline out of this impromptu swamp he was mired in and he watched the struggle. Cecille had a knife on his hip, a rather nasty-looking one...but it never left its sheath.

After a short time, the alligator had had enough and was swimming away. Cecille actually guided it further away down the waters towards its brothers. And then he waded over to Gordon, out of the water and sat beside Gordon. "I was wondering where Morris had gotten himself off to."

"Morris?"

"The alligator."

"You named an alligator Morris?"

"Sure." Cecille said. "What would you call an alligator in America?"

"A handbag-to-be." Gordon said, able to see some humor now he was safe.

"Not my alligators." Cecille said firmly. "They're my friends. I come in whenever I can and remind them whose boss and make sure they're healthy. One of them has a clutch of eggs nearby, would you like to see it?"

"No!" Gordon said, too loudly. "No, thank you. Can we get out of here?"

"Relax, they're all feeding now. I put plenty of raw beef for them down at the far end. You're as safe here as inside your own bedroom."

"My own bedroom doesn't have alligators in it."

"You mean like that one over there?" Cecille pointed to Gordon's other side, and Gordon backed over. He ended up against Cecille's side.

"Here, now, take it easy." Cecille said. "I was just joking."

"Please don't joke about alligators." Gordon said. "Or snakes or spiders or tigers or whatever else you keep in this place."

"Relax." Cecille said. "I'll protect you."

"Yeah." Gordon said. "Actually, that's why I'm here. I need someone to protect me from alligators and....and things." Cecille's body was feeling awfully reassuring, as Gordon considered what he was facing. If any one man could protect him long enough to track the source of the bone cup, it was Cecille. And with those men following him....

He looked up into Cecille's eyes. Big strong eyes, looking down at him, his body all begrimed and muddy and scratched here and there. Defending him, Cecille had been unscathed and clean before Gordon had shown up. Cecille had never been in trouble here, only Gordon. Gordon licked his lips and reached up with his face and Cecille met him halfway.

The strength in those arms was exhilarating. They pulsed with sheer, raw energy, with power and strength, as they encircled Gordon's body. The wetness of his clothing and the muddiness all only sleeked and smoothed the way, so that his body and Cecille's were slipping effortlessly into position, as Cecille's arms finished pulling him close and lowered him back against the bank. It wasn't a supine position, they were more at a forty-five degree angle, half lying, half upright, but supported on the wet, smooth grass, upon the warm muddy bank and somehow all the grime and the filth seemed just right, a part of the nature of things, a part of Cecille.

Gordon groaned and opened his mouth and Cecille's tongue thrust into him, as impudent as Cecille was, as though there was no other way for a man to do this but straightforward and brave-hearted, as though there was nothing to fear from strength and love, nothing to fear.

Nothing to fear. After the many days of fear, it felt good to feel that.

He began to kiss back, harder and they rolled onto their sides and Gordon felt Cecille's upper hand take the liberty this gave it to stroke down the small of his back, over his waistband of his pants...and onto a bare area. He'd ripped his pants, ripped them right across the seat. When? He didn't recall doing it.

He hissed as Cecille's fingers went over the round mass of his buttock and into the crevice between. The grittiness of the mud on the fingers only added to the sensation as they found the tenderness of his indentation and pressed in.

"That's a bit of all right, then." Cecille murmured to him as the index finger slid in to the first joint. "Feeling a bit more at home, are you?"

"Mmm." Gordon moaned. "God, yes! This is...this is...God!" It was crazy, this feeling. He had stepped from a world of a large, unknown danger into this contained area, a microcosm of a swamp with its resident dangers...and this man, the master of it all. Yes, he could do this, he could feel his body giving in, knowing that in this place, even with the alligators, he was safe. Even when he felt the slipperiness being crammed into his body, he didn't make the connection, it was all a part of this world which belonged to Cecille, and he was the master and ruled it by his whim. Then it sank into him. "What are you using?"

"Just a bit of the water." Cecille said.

"Water?" They were up the bank, there was no water, only. "God, are you using mud on me?"

"It's slippery enough, it is." Cecille said. "I've used it before, a time or two. You'll see, it'll go smooth as silk."

God, what was this? He was being lubed with alligator mud? Didn't alligators shit and piss in this water, on this mud? Was he being crammed with. "Yuck!" He said and turned, started to get away.

But Cecille then rammed that finger in to the very hilt and that did it. He felt the smooth slipperiness of it, felt the way his body loved this sensation. "You see?" Cecille said. "Just a bit of getting used to. The finest mud in these parts, it is, I have it mixed up special for me."

"This is insane." Gordon murmured, but his struggles had ended with that finger up his ass. It was big and hairy and strong and it fiddled with his insides...and proved beyond any doubt that Cecille's alligator mud was just the tonic he had promised it was.

So he stopped struggling, as he felt Cecille's body press against his and then that huge tube of meat find the same opening. He'd done this before, he was no virginal novice trembling before his first experience. Why not with this big man, whose aid he had come to seek? That feeling of safety...it was still here. How better to seal it than with this, his body?

So he only stayed as he was as Cecille's thick prong began to slide into him. Had he rubbed that huge cock with mud? No matter, the way was smooth and he'd wash himself out later. He needed a bath anyways, he'd just make it a little more thorough now.

And he felt the hard length of this dick, felt it possess him, felt it reach deep into him. Cecille's arms encircled him again, now from behind, pressing against him, that huge chest, that powerful body, it was between him and the rest of the world. Gordon felt that strength, felt how it had driven into him, and he raised his head and moaned out his possession to the world! "Ooohhh!" he groaned.

Illustration of Cecille #1 Cecille began to move within him now, slow long strokes that were that indefinable mix of mastery and deference. He was taking his pleasure, but was ready to stop or shift at the first signal of pain or discomfort. Cecille was being...courteous!

"Oh, oh, yeah!" Gordon moaned. "Come on, fuck me, fuck me!" he sighed.

Cecille's hands shifted to Gordon's hips and now the big cock began to plunge in and out of him in earnest. The mud...yes, it was mud, that sound was unmistakable...was making liquid, squishy noises as Cecille's body rocked back and forth, the noise of feet pulling out of muck and stepping back into muck, sh-plp, sh-plp, sh-plp!

"Oh yeah!" Cecille murmured to him. "Oh-h-h-h, oh yeah! M-m-m-m-mh!" Sharp, staccato sounds jarred from him by his body's motions, not quite words, not quite grunts, but some synthesis of the two.

Gordon felt the power surging through him and it converted into pleasure when it reached his brain. He had found his guardian, his avatar, he could search the jungles now with this man by his side and be unafraid, he was safe, more than safe, he was, he was...a part of him! That recognition, that knowledge, coursed through his body and that was the spark that ignited his joy.

"Oh, oh, God, I'm coming, I'm coming!" Gordon groaned and Cecille's body reacted by ramming him the harder, now he was being fucked roughly, while his passion reeled through his body, while the multi-leveled, splashing, roaring, surging joys of orgasm ripped through Gordon's body, he was lifted up through the heights of delight and reached his peak with a howl like a wolf!

"Ah-hayyyy!" he yodeled out and a rumble answered him and at first he thought it was one of the alligators coming back...but it was Cecille. This big man was akin to the animals in his passions, and this was one, the most central, basic one, and when he reached his climax it was one with the beasts and he growled like one.

Hard, rapid hunches into Gordon's reeling, spinning body, and then the hot rapid rush of sperm into his body as Cecille ejaculated, it was like a surge of the alligators out of the water at him, and as hot and as fierce as the fury was, he welcomed it for the arms that held him, the body that protected him, he greeted it and let it take him and shuddered as his own orgasm ended, feeling still by a form of proxy the joy that surged through Cecille's body that trembled in this fingers and registered thus in Gordon's own body.

Done, panting, grumbling still, Cecille fell against Gordon and the weight was a crush against him for a time, but he could endure this. Many a lover had finished like this, lost in the pleasure and falling into lassitude.

"Bloody hell!" Cecille moaned. "Be off with you, bloody bastards!"

Was that meant for him, Gordon wondered. Then he turned and looked. "Yowp!" he said and jerked himself from Cecille's arms and got up the bank, turned and sat down in this point of relative safety.

Cecille had an alligator hanging onto his ass! No, the beast had caught the pocket of his jeans and the material had been torn by those fierce teeth.

"And how long were you there?" Cecille said as he threatened the now-cowed beast which was swimming away. He looked up at Gordon then and grinned that easy grin once more. "Can't turn your backs on them for a second. Like little children, they are, always up to a bit of mischief." And he rubbed his backside ruefully.

Gordon had to laugh. The alligators had ceased to fret him, not while Cecille, their king, was beside him and he was in this man's favor. "Now we both have a pair of ripped trousers." he said, not without some satisfaction.

"Let's get back to the house and we'll find some clothes for you." Cecille said. "And a bath while we dig them from the closet. There's plenty in the house, I think something from my younger brother's clothes will work for you."

"Thanks, a bath sounds great right now." Gordon said.

He would have been embarrassed to walk back to the manor house bare-assed, but as long as he wasn't alone in this state of dishabille, it was more tolerable.

They walked into a back door and the butler Gordon had seen before met them there.

"Ah, Franklin, we'll both need a bath and a change of fresh clothes." Cecille said to him. "Had a bit of a mishap out there."

"As you say, sir." Franklin sniffed. ‘If you are quite through annoying the alligators, my Lord, perhaps you'd care to take your tea now?"

"Sounds good, but we want a bath first." Cecille said.

"As you wish."

Gordon was escorted upstairs and shown by the butler to a suite of rooms. He only saw the bath, a big bath, and he was inside it and running hot water, tearing off his clothes as he went.

The bath was heavenly and when he was done, he found a full set of clean clothes waiting for him. Dressing in them, he felt ready now to go down and face the rather hideous formality of the English tea. It had been hours since he'd eaten, and days since he'd eaten in anything but a nervous state...my God! In all that had happened, he hadn't even told Cecille about the men who were hunting for him!

He met Cecille in the hallway, who had just come from some other rooms on the same floor. "Ah, there you are!" Cecille said, dressed in a variation of the same casual clothes he'd worn before. "Feeling better now, are we?"

"Yes, thank you." Gordon said. "Look, with the alligators and the mud and...and everything, there's one other thing you need to know. That bone cup of mine, it's not just a case of going to Cunofrio and finding where it came from. There are also some people who are trying to take it away from me."

"Really?" Cecille seemed unconcerned about that. "Like who, for instance?"

They made it to the top of the staircase and looked down. There were men in the lobby. Four of them, and all were armed. He couldn't see the butler anywhere. The men below heard them and looked up, and their guns raised up to point right at Gordon and Cecille.

"Them." Gordon said.

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