Room 2D

Badger is back. Photo-story from Janus 146 After the pleasures of dealing with Candice Lavelle that morning , Badger Bartholomew travelled out of the suburbs into the heart of town and lunched in a trendy pub. His next assignment promised to be very different, and he sensed that he might have more of a fight on his hands, so to speak. A pippin like that sweet ‘n’ sour singer was one thing, but a female civil servant to a powerful man of government was quite another. At the smart block of flats he buzzed for entry, and was admitted. The door to the apartment was open. Hearing a voice, Badger walked in. And stared at his next assignment. She was seductively attractive, stylishly dressed and of cunning intellect. Blonde hair flicked as she talked incisively on the telephone, laying down crisp instructions to whoever was on the other end. The glasses she wore enhanced her appeal somehow. For a moment even Badger felt slightly daunte...

An enhanced version of Bargain Price from Blushes 58 Mr Minley’s car crunched up the leaf-strewn gravel drive between trees and shrubs resplendent in their autumn reds and browns and golds. The house came into sight against the crisp blue sky. It looked as big as Mr Minley’s own house but more shabby, dilapidated. And the lawn at the side was uncut, resembling a meadow almost and also liberally covered with more fallen leaves. Quite unlike Mr Minley’s immaculate sward. This place is probably falling apart,’ he observed as he pulled up before the house. ‘And that fellow doesn’t seem to be here yet. Anyway let’s have a look.’ His hand squeezed Susan’s thigh. Susan followed him out. On this warm September morning the delectable Susan was wearing a white sleeveless top and full, calf-length pink skirt with large white buttons down the front, plus white high heels. She had nothing underneath, no underwear. On Mr Minley’s instruction...

By Johnny Chesham from Janus 34 You’d hardly have noticed it in the foggy winter night — a small brass name-plate reading  The Correction Club  in elegant italics. A tall man in a black cape and topper pulled energetically on the ornate Edwardian bell as a shaft of eerie gaslight fell across his features and the departing hansom cab rattled away, soon swallowed in the omnipresent silence. Slowly the door opened. ‘Good evening, Major,’ a solemn butler in black tails intoned. ‘Evening, Hodges!’ the man rapped and strode briskly into the hall. With a swirl he removed his cape which he thrust at the servant with his black silk hat. Curiously he retained a shiny black cane which had passed unnoticed in the voluminous folds. ‘The members are in the club-room, sir,’ Hodges announced and retired with a deep bow. The Major tapped his cane solidly into his left palm with a smart crack. Then with sudden vigour he mounted...