A steam punk tale Chap 1

Story by hooves on SoFurry

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#1 of Steam Punk

 


A Red Stag ex- navel intelligence officer is asked by his Uncle in the Government to look after the son of an old friend...

The tall powerfully build red Stag ambled slowly across the smoking room of the Travellers club, which looking out over Carlton Gardens. Slowly puffing on his black brier pipe, clouds of dark gray smoke waffling up around his proud head. The tall red Stag was still wearing his military kilt, but with a little gray waist coat and charcoal frock coat. His old highland beret stuffed into a side coat pocket. As he approached his aged paternal uncle, who was almost hidden behind his new paper. "Good morning Uncle." The tall handsome red Stag greeted, as he stood waiting to be invited to sit. "I received the message that you wanted to speak with me."

"Afternoon more like it." The older red Stag snorted as he lowered his paper, and glance up at the clock. "How are you Evander? All fit and well I trust the years at sea have done you well. Don't just stand there gawking take a seat lad... Gods... what are you smoking?"

"Indeed Uncle Auggie it does seem to be noonish..." The handsome Stag replied impishly as he took a few more puffs from his pipe. "And I'm quite well thank you... the sea does cure a lad." The tall powerfully build young red Stag answered, tumbling into the comfortable chair opposite his aged Uncle. "It's a strong Turkish blend I discovered in Istanbul, it's being imported now by W.D. & H.O. Wills. But I doubt very seriously that you've summoned me here to inquire about my smoking habits." The old Stag stared hard at his young nephew for a long moment, before a wane smile slowly crawled across his muzzle.

"You are as blunt as I remember my sister being in our youth... Very well I shall come to the point of the matter. It has come to my attention, that now that you have left the services... you are in need of more permanent lodgings. And as fate would have it... the son of an old friend needs a certain level of shall we say watching after." The older Stag paused to clear his throat, before taking another long puff on his cigar.

"Which old friend would that be Uncle Auggie? And why does this fellow need watching after?" Evander asked curiously, he was obviously intrigued by what his Uncle was saying.

"My old commander in the Emperors highland rifles, Clyde the Earl of DumBarton pass on recently. Leaving his son with the family estates... the lad is something of and inventor. And recently was attacked and had the plans for one of his inventions stolen. Scotland yard is looking into it of course, but the lad will not take the protection they have offered. He's got his fathers bravery and unfortunately all of his stubbornness as well."

"So he's in need of a body guard... that is hardly my field of endeavor Uncle. And if he will not take guards from Scotland yard, why would he take one you have provided?"

"Indeed and his is a body you will very much enjoy guarding." The old Stag huffed in dark amusement, as he puffed on his cigar aggressively.

"Why Uncle whatever do you mean?" Evander smirked, a bit shocked and amused that his stodgy old Uncle knew of his interests. Of course the old fellow had never married himself, still there were no rumors of his sexual proclivities.

"You know very well Vander. Do not try to make me say it in public, because I shall not." The old Stag growled obviously not as amused as he had been. "As for why he would take you in as a guard... well let us say that he shall not know you are a guard. Indeed not... he shall simply know you as the nephew of his fathers old friend. Whom is in need of lodgings of a suitable type for a handsome young male with his interests."

"Ohooo so it is in the nature of a covert operation? The handsome red young Stag smirked, as he dumped the bowl of his pipe out in the ash tray. "It is good I spent that year and a half working in military intelligence then." Evander noted slipping his pipe into the pocket of his gray woolen waist coat.

"Indeed lad, your military experiences shall prove useful in more ways than one." The older Stag smirked at the double meaning within his own words.

"What is your true interest in this matter Uncle?" Evander asked shrudely as the elder Stag snorted and glanced away.

"Now I fear I have lost your meaning my boy..." The old Stag quickly lifted his newspaper pretending to read as the young Stag went on.

"I mean are you interest as a old friend of the family... or as the Minister of national intelligence?"

"My position at the Ministry may indeed have a bit of influence on my concerns for him, and my selection of you in this matter." The older Stag confessed deliberately being as oblique as possible in his confession.

"But I'm not really interest in relocating all the way to DumBarton Uncle Auggie." Evander protested, as he picked up a section of his Uncles discarded newspaper.

"I never said you had to..." The older Stag snorted leaning back in his plush chesterfield armchair. "The family owns a number of homes, besides the family seat in DumBarton. Presently he resides at his town house here in London, as he is able to find scientific equipment more easily." The old Stag took a small piece of paper from his waist coat pocket, and past it over to his young nephew. "It not far from Hyde park... I believe you have friends around there, in the Horse Guards."

"Indeed..." Evander smiled, at his old Uncles veiled intimations so proper in this genteel setting.

"Very well Uncle I shall go speak with this fellow... and if he is so inclined I shall take up rooms with him." Evander paused to read the name scrawled above the address... Cameron Earl of DumBarton.

***

The massive four story Town house was just off of Bayswater rd, just a short distance from Paddinton station and the park proper. Evander bound up the front steps, and knocked soundly on the heavy old oak door. The handsome red Stag waited a moment before noticing the door bell pull. Reaching over he pulled the cord and was rewarded by a loud jiggling. Suddenly one of the brass knobs that adorned the huge doors dark frame lowered. Twisting until a thick glass lens was starring at the Stag. "And whom might you be?" A crackling voice asked, from a brass grating just to the side of the door. Evander lips rolled back into a curious amused smile, as he looked the tube with its glassy lens over.

"Evander... Uncle Auggie said you might let a old sailor room here for a bit."

"Ammmm older or young... I do love sailors..." That crackling voice purred in a soft lustful manner, as the door clicked and opened slightly. "Come right in." The handsome red Stag reached down grasping the door handle, opening it and strolling in. The entry way was all polished marble, a second door this one of solid brass perhaps a dozen feet away. Vander closed the door behind him, and strolled over to the second door. A smooth velvety black muzzle looked out at him, through a small ornately barred window in the door.

"Do not touch the door please." Those sexy black lip's said as Evander reach out towards the door handle, the red Stag pulled his hand back quickly. "Sexy Sailor hmmm... what was that lake Uncle Auggie use to take you sailing on as a boy?"

"Hoselaw Loch..." The red Stag answered smiling placidly as he studied that black nose and full soft lip's.

"Oh yes and old Morgan use to go fishing with you and him."

"No that was Angus... old Morgan was the boat builder." Evander corrected with a growing grin this fellow was sharp, and that made him sexier than ever.

"Oh... well you'd know better than me." The mysterious equine chuckled as he stepped back, that heavy brass door swinging open then to allow the red Stag inside the house proper. Evander eye's widened as he saw his host... slightly shorter than the red Stag himself. The Zebracorn stood bare chested and at ease, the fly of his trouser ill buttoned. Obviously the sexy stallion had been in a state of undress when the bell was rang. And had dressed himself hastily so that he might see whom was entreating entree into his domicile.

The musky scents of sweaty male equines teased Evander nostrils, the smell of flesh fluids under laying the sweat. "Hello there... allow me to introduce myself... I am Cameron Deveraux Barton... Earl of DumBarton. But please just call me Cameron, all my friends do." Just then, a shaggy little welsh pony came trotting down the wide twin staircase behind the Zebracorn. The sexy little pony was dressed in a tight fitting pale blue uniform, of a telegraph boy. The obvious tailor uniform was immaculate, but the scents of sweat and cum were heavy on the smiling pony.

"Oi Cameron. I'll get yer reply right off to Mr. Culhaven."

"I just bet you will... get something off for Ol' Monique." The big Zebracorn smirked, pressing a huge wad of Francs into the little pony's hands. "Thank you for your excellent service Charlie..." Cameron smiling as he made it plain to Evander, that the telegraph was not the only service he was paying the handsome little pony for.

"Thank sir." The little pony answered, more professional now that he was getting his payment. "Any time I can be of service..."

"I shall certainly call upon you." The handsome Zebracorn answered, smiling broadly as he led the pony out. Before returning to his newest acquittance, walking past the red Stag slowly. And then paused looking back over his broad shoulder, catching the tall Cervine watching the tight round buttocks. "Ammmm I think I'm going to like you Vander. It's almost tea time... care to join me in the parlor?"

"I think that would be... wonderful thank you." Vander answered even as his eyes widen, as he spotted the black birds head grip of a Webley Bull Dog revolver. That was protruding out of the waist band of the Zebracorn's tight trousers. A vague smile played against the tall Stag's expressive muzzle, it appeared this fellow could take care of himself. With his eye's never leaving the sexy equine's swaying hind quarters, as he was lead to a comfortable sitting room. Above a huge brick fire place hung a striking portrait of a stern handsome white Unicorn stallion. Looking every bit the proud warrior in his Imperial French Foreign Legion uniform, in the back ground could be seen the Emperors Highland rifles.

"Your father?" Vander inquired gesturing up to the enormous portrait, even as the Zebracorn yanked a bell pull. And spoke into another of those odd brass speaker plates, ordering down to the kitchens for their repast.

"Yes that's him... dear old Da..." The Zebracorn smiled ruefully, as if he found the subject vaguely painful. "Napoleon's favor Scot... conquered half of Africa for the Emperor." The Zebracorn pointed to the opposite wall, where a much smaller portrait of a beautiful Zebra mare hung. "And sweet mummie whom he met while slaughtering most of her fellow countrymen. And so here I am... you can imagine the reaction when father came home with his new bride."

"Indeed I can..." Vander answered placing a friendly hand on the Zebracorn's strong forearm. He knew all to well about the pride and prejudiced of their strict social class. He had experienced it himself, when word of his sexual interest had gotten bandied around while he was in school.

"And of course when I was born of that union things only got ever so much better. Mother died in child birth, father at once went back into service and was killed in the Afghan campaign. Uncle Bernhardt took over duty at the family seat, and saw to my education at the finest schools in France. Where my Latent homosexuality reared its handsome head, later in Italy its became not so latent." The pretty Zebracorn confessed, as the big red Stag's smile took on an amused look. "At any rate when I returned to dear old England... we had just received our independence from the Empire." Cameron chuckled in obvious displeasure, clearly the Zebracorn was well aware that although the island nation was officially and independent nation. It was still very much economically and militarily, if not politically within the Empire's control. The Zebracorn leaned back in his chair, as a small but sexy Ram came in with a platter of tea and biscuits.

"Tea sir." The young Ram announced softly, his thick brogue making him as a highlander most likely a very old family servant.

"Thank you Ronald." The Zebracorn smiled as the Ram prepared his cup, knowing from long experience how his lard preferred his tea. And then inquired how Vander liked his, the red Stag shook his head indicating he would take care of it himself. As the young Ram left the room, returning to the kitchens. The handsome Zebracorn took a sip of tea, as he sat back in his chair. "But I do prattle on... tell me your story Evander." The tall red Stag winced slight, but nodded his long antlered head.

"Only my aged relatives call me that... Vander please or even Antlers as some of my fellow navel officers dubbed me." The handsome red Stag leaned back and crossed his long sleek leg's. Pausing to take a long drink of his tea, before continuing with his narration. "I uhum... lost my latency at a much earlier age... after a couple of incidents while I was at Eton. I was sent off to the Imperial Naval College which proved to be a grand fit. There are plenty of our lads in the Imperial Naval, as you are no doubt well aware. When England was given it's independence... I was at first given the choice of remaining in the Imperial Naval. I choose instead to be commissioned into the British Navel, which was reduced in half the very next year. So I was pensioned off with a vast number of other younger officers. And now here I am, a jolly sailor with no ship, and a tiny government stipends."

"So you have unlimited time to devote to me... I kind of like that." Cameron chuckled, as the red Stag couldn't help chuckling at the Zebracorn's cheeky nature. "I'll have to send dear old Uncle Auggie a gift, for providing me with such a sexy nanny. That is what you are... isn't it sweet Vander? My big sexy nanny... here to keep me out of trouble and my inventions out of the hands of the Swiss..."

"Do you believe that agents of the Swiss government... accosted you and took your invention?" Vander choked sitting upright, as the Zebracorn slipped a big hoof up his leg.

"Not my invention... but merely the plans for it...

Plans they shall not be able to read, and certainly will never be able to produce anything from. As for if it were agents of the Swiss... I confess I do not know. It might just as easily be French secret services, or even some powerful industrial family much as Krupp."

"So to make anything of what they have... they will need you." Vander noted as he gestured back towards the entryway. "Is that the reason for that cute little trap... and the revolver your carrying."

"Revolvers..." Cameron corrected, making the Stags eyes widened slightly as he looked over the Zebracorn again. "And yes indeed it is... I've become very careful since the attack. I only travel in the day now, and then only to a very few places. I can get most things I need delivered to me, either here or at my shop in the Airdrome."

"Revolvers... where..." Vander started to ask, but the smirking Zebracorn cut him off.

"If you get to know me well enough... you'll find out." The Zebracorn promised lewdly as that hard hoof slipped up between the Stags thigh's.

"Your shop at the Airdrome?" Vander inquired, still obviously contemplating where that second revolver mighty be secreted. "Are you working on a new Zeppelin design?"

"My... my you are full of questions... is Uncle Auggie fishing for my secrets? But no... my Zeppelin is more an expensive hobby... like some males yacht's. I prefer sky travel to the rolling waves of the sea, and Trains are all Government owned and controlled. While those steam Velocipedes had always struck me as a question in search of an answer."

"So shall I gather my things and return?" Vander asked looking coyly at the smiling Zebracorn.

"If you want to move into the rooms... knowing what kind of scandalous black heart I am."

"Oh I think I can handle you." The tall red Stag answered smirking, as he ground his crotch against the Zebracorn's hoof.

"I like to be handle kind of rough." Cameron warned, leave a big dirty hoof print on the Stags kilt.

"The Imperial Navel has a number of traditions, three that I think apply here... Rum, Sodomy and the lash."

"Hahaha... you are going to be fun."

FIN of chapter 1