“So, you must be Mr. The Beast,” I said calmly, as the slavering beast advanced upon me. “I don’t suppose you would care for a cup of tea, or something?”

“Grrrrrarrrgggh!” said the beast.

“Grrrrarrrgggh?” I repeated. “Good heavens, your diction is really quite awful. Now listen here, old chap, you’ve been rather an awful cad, and I’m afraid that we are going to have to -”

Before I could finish reprimanding the terrible beast, the brute swung at me with his powerful claws, resulting in him tearing my lovely blue suit.

“Well that does it, I’m afraid,” I said. “Murder is bad enough, but I simply cannot abide such terrible manners!” And with that, I launched myself at the beast.

We tussled for a while in among the bushes; the beast swiping at me with his huge paws, while I took to punching the foul creature about the face and snout. After what seemed like an eternity of such grappling, I realised that I was getting precisely nowhere.

As I contemplated my next move, the beast pinned me against the ground, it’s great jaws looming over my face, row upon row of sharp, dagger-like teeth bared at me. Fearing that I might become a rather delicious snack for the monster, I took my knee to the beast’s groin – a cheap shot maybe, but it was highly effective all the same. The creature roared angrily and loosened its grip upon me, then tended to its injured balls.

Once again, I noticed the incredibly humongous size of the creature’s genitals. Of course, they paled in comparison to my own, but they were of a not inconsiderable size nonetheless.

It was while I was contemplating the beast’s cock and balls that I suddenly hit upon a rather marvellous ruse to subdue the creature – I would perform the Venetian Cock Twist upon the furry fiend’s fleshy love-pole. I knew from first-hand experience just how effective the maneuver could be, so I reasoned it would be even more effective on such a titanic todger as the one before me.

With a course of action thus decided, I threw myself back onto the beast, much to its surprise. We wrestled for a bit, until I finally managed to grab a hold of the creature’s cock-shaft, at which point I began to twist upon it with all my might. Much to my chagrin, however, the beast failed to react in the manner which I had expected. In fact, he barely seemed to notice my efforts at all.

“Grimes!” I yelled out to the gormless gardener, who was doing his best to cower behind a shrub that was entirely to small to adequately hide him. “Grimes, get yourself over here, pronto! I fear I shall need an extra pair of hands for this terrible task!”

“I..I think yer doin’ just fine, milord,” Grimes replied. “It looks like the wee beastie is really enjoyin’ that. I mean, really enjoyin’ that.”

“What?” I snapped, and then I noticed that the monster’s member was becoming increasingly stiff in my hands. Rather than causing the beast pain, it seemed I was in fact working the demon up into a state of arousal. I was, in short, wanking the creature off.

“Keep goin’, milord!” cried Grimes. “Yer doin’ a grand job!”

“I can’t sit here all night tossing this bastard off!” I cried.

“Ya might not have a choice, milord. He’ll probably be really angry if you stop at this point.”

So there I was, trapped in the woods, and stuck between a cock and a hard place.

Whatever was I going to do?

- Lord Likely.

What Should Likely Do Next?
( surveys)
You have until 00:30 hours AM(GMT) on Wednesday the Thirtieth of April to cast your vote.

UPDATE! The deadline has now been changed to 12:30 PM (GMT) on Thursday the First of May! So now there is positively NO excuse to not vote in this THRILLING poll!

As an added incentive, one randomly-selected winning voter will be rewarded with a gratuitous link to their web-page in the next thrilling installment. But please note – we shall only be able to award said prize if you let us know which action you chose!

The last randomly-selected winner, who has thus earnt a free hyper-link placement upon his lordship’s journals, is…

Congratulations to you!

Now choose wisely, dear readers…his lordship is in YOUR HANDS now.

After some considerable deliberation upon my part, I decided that rather than wait to receive another Venetian Cock Twist from the delectable Lady Rydeham-Harde, my time would be more productively spent venturing into the dark and scary woods, where the so-called beast had last been sighted.

“Are you sure, milord?” Botter asked nervously. “The woods are both dark and scary, after all.”

“Botter, sometimes I think you have a longer yellow streak than an elephant pissing down a cliff.” I said. “We are going to explore the dark and scary woods and find us a beast, my good man, and that is my complete and utter final word on the subject. Except these six words: you really are a terrible twat.”

“Very good, milord,” Botter replied, despondently.

“Now, Mr. Grimes,” I continued, turning to face the gardener who had witnessed the beast’s frenzied attack. “I think it would be most prurient for you to accompany us on this venture; after all, you did not only see the beast, but I’d say you know these woods like the back of your hand.”

“Hand? Hand? What hand? I don’t know nothin’ about no hand, sir!” replied Grimes, fear gripping every fibre of his soul.

“Ruddy Hell,” I sighed. “Am I surrounded by cowards? Am I the only brave, courageous and damnably handsome one among us?”

At that point, a blood-curdling roar filled the night sky.

“Fuck me, what the shit was that?” I gasped.

“‘Twas the beast!” wailed Grimes, his eyes wild with panic. “The beast is near, and he sounds mighty hungry! Surely he will feast upon our flesh, and devour our souls!”

“No-one is devouring my arse-hole,” I replied, grabbing the gas-light from Grimes’ hands. “Now come along, you two. Let us go and introduce ourselves to this beastly fellow.”

“I don’t like this,” moaned Grimes, as we ploughed deeper and deeper into the dark and scary woods. “The air is thick with evil.”

“That’s probably just Botter,” I said, as we pushed on through some densely-packed thickets. “I think he may have soiled himself earlier.”

“Arrrrrgh!” screamed Botter, suddenly. “It’s got me! The beast has got me!”

I let out a heavy sigh and turned around, to see my hapless man-servant tussling with nothing more menacing than some over-hanging branches. I shook my head sadly, and calmly strolled over and disentangled Botter from the grasps of the nefarious tree.

“Please, Botter, do try and retain some sense of decorum. We are British, after all.” I said as I freed the witless oaf.

“Sorry, milord.” Botter apologised. “I think this is just getting to me, y’know? Walking through this dark and scary wood, lookin’ for a murderous beast…it’s put the fear in me, to be honest.”

“Mmm, so it would seem,” I replied.

“It’d help if we had at least some idea of what we’re lookin’ for,” Botter grumbled. “I mean, what’s this beast look like?”

“Botter, it is a beast.” I explained, patiently. “I think we can safely presume it will look rather beast-like. Unless this part of the country is particularly overrun with beasts, I would imagine we shall have no trouble identifying the creature when we stumble upon it.”

“Did it perchance have brown fur, large claws, creepy, glowing red eyes and huge, pointy teeth?” Botter suggested.

“Aye!” cried Grimes. “That’s the beastie! How did ya know that?”

“Because I think that’s it, standing behind you,” Botter answered, pointing a shaky finger.

Grimes and I swung around, and sure enough the beast was indeed standing there, it’s eyes wild and red, drool dribbling forth from it’s fanged teeth.

“Well, well, well,” I said. “Now there is something you don’t see every day. Good day to you, sir!”

The beast let out an almighty roar, and slowly advanced towards us. This proved too much for Botter to cope with, and he let out a feeble scream and then dashed off into the woods. I made a mental note to have him severely thrashed for abandoning me in the midst of action.

“It…it…it’s the beast!” Grimes stuttered, as he stood frozen to the spot.

“Yes, yes. I think we have established that by now, Grimes,” I replied, as I kept a wary eye on the advancing beast. “I must say, it is quite an impressive creature, don’t you think? Why, look at the size of his todger. That thing is a monstrosity in itself, I must say.”

“The…the beast!” Grimes repeated. Clearly the man had lost his mind, and would be of no further use to me at this point.

Once again, it would have to be up to me to save everybody, and win the day. But what to do?

- Lord Likely.

How Should Likely Tackle The Beast?
( polls)
You have until 10:30 hours AM(GMT) on Monday the Twenty-Eighth of April to cast your vote.

As an added incentive, one randomly-selected winning voter will be rewarded with a gratuitous link to their web-page in the next thrilling installment. But please note – we shall only be able to award said prize if you let us know which action you chose!

The last randomly-selected winner, who has thus earnt a free hyper-link placement upon his lordship’s journals, is…

Congratulations to you, m’dear!

Now choose wisely, dear readers…his lordship is in YOUR HANDS now.

“Well, come on then! What is that in your trousers, sir?” Lady Rydeham-Harde repeated.

I looked down at the considerable bulge in my pocket, then looked up at the lady, then to Inspector Spunkleford, who was frantically nodding his head in the negative as if to suggest that I should definitely not whip out my proud Lord Palmerston in front of her ladyship.

“Come on, man! Out with it!” shrieked Lady Rydeham-Harde. I did not need to be asked twice.

“Well, since you ask, m’dear, I shall show you,” I said calmly, and then I unzipped my flies, and liberated my throbbing organ from within my trousers.

“What on Earth is that?” gasped Lady Rydeham-Harde as she beheld my enormous erection.

“Oh, come, m’dear. You must have seen a penis before.” I replied. “This is my mighty Lord Palmerston…please, feel free to touch him, if you like. He will not bite, although I cannot promise that he will not be sick upon you.”

Her ladyship gently put out a hand towards my stiffened member, and then suddenly she grabbed it firmly in her hand, and began to twist it with all her force.

“You are a filthy and disgusting individual, Mr. Likely,” she hissed, as she applied further pressure to my poor love-pump, causing my eyes to water. “I want you off my property immediately, else I shall be forced to have you shot where you stand. Do you understand?”

“But I thought we – ” I squeaked.

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” she repeated, tightening her grip.

“Ruddy Hell!” I wheezed. “Yes, yes. Very well, whatever you say, m’dear.”

“I am not your dear, and nor shall I ever be your dear. Now, you have five minutes to remove yourself from my estate, or else next time I shall be removing this,” said Lady Rydeham-Harde, giving one final twist on my johnson. With her point clearly made, and my point clearly mauled, she released me and headed off back inside her house.

“Jesus cocking Christ!” I gasped. “What a woman! Did you see that, Spunkleford? That was the Venetian Cock Twist! Not many females know that particular maneuver, you know! Incredible…just incredible!”

“I am very happy for you, Likely, but you have seriously jeopardized our investigation now! I knew you would balls it up…I just knew it!”

“Calm yourself, Spunkleford! I am not going anywhere. Botter and I shall merely keep out of her ladyship’s way, and we will continue to investigate the murder of this poor, poor maid. I will not rest until we have solved the case – who knows, maybe her ladyship will reward me with another Venetian Cock Twist…”

“Do you ever think with anything other than your penis, Likely?” sighed Spunkleford.

“Well, it is my largest organ,” I explained.

“‘Twas a beast,” another voice added.

“Well, quite,” I said.

“‘Twas a beast that killed this poor lass,” the voice continued, and then a rather scruffy-looking gent with a big, ginger beard appeared beside us, holding a lantern above the dead maid’s body. “No man did this, I tell you. ‘Twas a beast. A terrible beast!”

“Well, thank you for your invaluable contribution, Mr…?”

“Grimes. I’m Grimes, the gardener,” said Grimes, the gardener.

“Ah, yes. You found the body!” Spunkleford said.

“What? You mean to say you lost it again? I already found it once.”

“No, I mean you were the man who discovered the body first, yes?”

“Yes. Oh, yes.” Grimes replied, his eyes widening with horror as he recalled the incident. “I was jus’ doin’ my rounds, like, and then I heard an awful commotion over here. I came to see what all the hoo-ha was about, and lo and behold – I saw it.”

“Saw what?” I asked.

“It. The thing. The beast. A big, hairy, lumbering great creature, it was. An’ he was crouched over the maid, tearin’ at her flesh. I yelled and shouted at ‘im, and waved my pitch-fork about, then the creature ran off into the dark and scary woods, over there,” Grimes explained, pointing to a wood which did indeed look dark and scary.

“I…see.” I said, feeling increasingly unsure as to Grimes’ mental stability.

“Listen, Likely,” Spunkleford said. “Her ladyship will be back soon, so you’d better make yourself scarce, lest you lose your manhood.”

Spunkleford was right. But where to go?

- Lord Likely.

Where Should Lord Likely Go?
( surveys)
You have until 22:00 hours PM(GMT) on Wednesday the Twenty-Second of April to cast your vote.

As an added incentive, one randomly-selected winning voter will be rewarded with a gratuitous link to their web-page in the next thrilling installment. But please note – we shall only be able to award said prize if you let us know which action you chose!

The last randomly-selected winner, who has thus earnt a free hyper-link placement upon his lordship’s journals, is…

Congratulations to you, m’dear!

Now choose wisely, dear readers…his lordship is in YOUR HANDS now.