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"A journal so exciting, I fear I soiled myself no less than fourteen times."

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THE LONDON LOOKER

"I ejaculated so hard, my library had to be closed off for an entire week."

LORD FISHSTICK'S NEWSPAPER

"Everyone should buy a copy of these diaries, then have sex with them."

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  • The Crest of Lord Likely

    02 February 2009

    Wherein Mrs. Bapps Is Given The Boot

    Previously in The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely: this happened.

    November, 1857.

    victladyboot“WELL, sir, what will you have become of me?” snarled Mrs. Bapps, as Botter carefully trained his rolling-pin on her. “Am I to be arrested, and hung for my crimes? Or will you just kill me now? What? What will you do?

    “I was thinking of a rather more...interesting punishment than that, m’dear,” said I, struggling – fruitlessly – to escape the bonds which bound me to the conveyor belt. “I thought, for instance, that I might start off by putting you in shackles…”

    “Oh God,” sighed Inspector Spunkleford, still shackled beside me.

    “Then I propose to give you a damned good spanking, and then once that is done I shall…”

    Blast it, Likely!” cried Spunkleford, unable to contain his despair. “The woman is an evil, twisted lunatic!”

    “Well, no-body’s perfect, Spunkleford. Furthermore, she does have a fantastically cracking pair of knockers on her.”

    “I cannot do it, Likely!” bellowed Spunkleford. “I cannot lie here and watch you side-step the law just so you can get in a bit of….rumpy-pumpy!”

    “I do not see that you have much choice, dear Inspector,” I smiled. “Botter, come, untie me at once!”

    “Yes milord,” Botter nodded, but no sooner had he turned away from Mrs. Bapps then did she leap upon him, and knock him to the floor.

    Egads, Botter!” I exclaimed. “Never turn your back on a woman, you fool! They are the most cunning and devilish of all God’s creatures!”

    “Sorry, milord,” Botter apologised, in between several blows to the head from the crazed Mrs. Bapps. “My mistake!”

    “Your mistake indeed,” I sighed, as Mrs. Bapps knocked Botter out cold with a triumphant scream. Then she swept her bread-knife up off the floor, and waved it menacingly in my direction.

    “Damn, blast and sod it all to buggery, Likely!” Spunkleford blustered. “I knew your penis would wind up getting us killed one of these days.”

    I did not reply, despite having a ready supply of stupendously witty quips at my disposal. I had to begrudgingly admit that Spunkleford may have been right, a suspicion which I had the terrible feeling was going to be affirmed any moment, as Mrs. Bapps advanced upon me with her weapon.

    “Now…what were you saying, sir?” she grinned, brandishing the blade perilously close to my immaculately groomed moustache. “Something about a punishment, wasn’t it?”

    “You heard correctly, my dear,” I replied calmly. “At least you still have one of your senses left…”

    “Oh, quite the joker, aren’t we?” Mrs. Bapps said, as she clambered atop me, and straddled my body. “Let us see how long you can keep it up, sir.”

    “I have never had any problems in that department, I assure you,” I quipped.

    “I am going to have one last ride, sir,” Mrs. Bapps whispered, while she set about unfastening my trousers. “I will take you to Heaven…before I plunge you into HELL!” she cackled, swishing the knife about in front of me.

    “It is just as well I am not a religious man,” I muttered, as Mrs. Bapps liberated my Lord Palmerston from my under-pants. “Still, there are worse ways to go, I suppose…”

    However, just as things were about to get interesting, a boot suddenly appeared out of nowhere, striking Mrs. Bapps firmly in the temple. She let out a faint moan, then slid off me and landed in a crumpled heap on the ground below. I looked up to see who had dared to interrupt my near-death nookie, and saw that wretched bootblack, Mr. Swishbuckle, standing in the doorway, his face pale with shock.

    Daphne!” he cried, taking the steps two at a time. “My dear Daphne!

    “Daphne?” I repeated. “Who the ruddy hell is Daphne?”

    “Oh, Daphne,” gasped Mr. Swishbuckle, picking up the boot he had just hurled, and cradling it gently in his arms . “I am so sorry my sweet, sweet Daphne. I never meant to hurt you…can you ever forgive me?”

    “Of course she cannot forgive you, you blithering fool!” I spluttered.

    “Because I have betrayed her so?” sobbed Mr. Swishbuckle.

    “No, because she is a FUCKING BOOT, you shoe-shagging shit-crust!”

    “You don’t know Daphne like I know Daphne,” Mr. Swishbuckle cooed. “She is very forgiving, and will come to forgive me in time, I am sure. And the make up sex will be phenomenal.

    I felt utterly revulsed by the depraved wretch before me, but not quite as revulsed as I felt upon seeing Botter stagger back to his feet again, rubbing the back of his head gingerly.

    “Wha…what happened?” the miserable cove asked blearily.

    “Nothing that will compare with what WILL happen should you insist in dily-dallying any further…now ruddy untie me, you twatting great spunk-bubble!”

    *****
    EPILOGUE

    WELL, this has certainly proven to be one of my stranger cases, and that is rather saying something, seeing as how I’ve encountered murderous prostitutes, undead gentle-men, lesbian pirates and randy monsters in my time. But a shoe-humping bootblack and a baker who puts feet into cakes must surely rank up there with such astonishing adventures.

    In the end, after Botter finally untied Spunkleford and I, the fellons were arrested and put on trial. Both were found guilty on several charges, ranging from petty theft to indecent assault upon non-consenting footwear. Naturally, both were duly sent to prison.

    Mrs. Bapps managed to fit in quite well with her fellow inmates, and found herself quite popular on account of her ability to bake files into cakes. Mr. Swishbuckle, however, could not bear to be apart from his shoe wives, and was discovered dead in his cell, having (rather ironically) hung himself with his own bootlaces. He left a note saying he had entered into a suicide pact with his ‘dear Kenneth‘, which I presume was the name he had bestowed upon the boot from whence the laces came.

    As for Mr. Swishbuckle’s apprentice, he was found innocent of any great crime, but for aiding and abetting a known fellon he was made to spend many days cleaning out the hundred of pairs of shoes Mr. Swishbuckle had defiled.

    Mr. Poots still has no feet, but has been thrilled to discover the great savings he has made on purchasing shoes and boot-polish.

    I am still utterly fabulous.

    The End.

    - Lord Likely.

    One More Question…

    His lordship thanks each and every one of you who have voted and/or commented on each chapter of this Incredible Inter-Active Adventure. He only wishes he could inter-act with you all a lot more personally. Many thanks indeed!

    *****

    ATTENTION! His Lordship’s newest enterprise, Lord Likely’s Emporium of Excellent Things, is still open for business! So why not treat your torsos to a terrific t-shaped shirt, or purchase fine beverage holders or pin-badges bearing his lordship’s rugged features? Double-quick, now!

    THE LIKELY EMPIRE! Do not forget, dear readers, you can also join his lordship on Twitter, where he writes almost daily, penning anything from terrible puns to complete, miniature adventures for your enjoyment! Befriend him now at http://twitter.com/lordlikely

    OR! Make his lordship’s acquaintance on Facebook, or join his marvellous Facebook group – The Fantatical Followers of Lord Likely! Truly, you need never be without his lordship ever again!

    Next Time In The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely: Something different…

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    Comments

    14 incredible interjections thus far.

    Alex L

    I have no shame in admitting, after every paragraph… EVERY SINGLE ONE. I must go now, I’m very tired.

    Alex L, February 2nd, 2009 at 8:12 pm

    Ranran

    hey, nice site! i’m kinda a newbie in this blogging stuff so i’ll appreciate it if you drop by my site and/or leave a comment. i really enjoyed reading your posts. ;-)

    i can also have your blog URL linked to my site is you want so to increase your blog traffic.

    thanks! keep it up!

    Ranran, February 2nd, 2009 at 10:27 pm

    Gorilla Bananas

    I do love a story with a happy ending, m’lud. It might have been even happier if you’d kicked that boot lover in the arse.

    Gorilla Bananas, February 2nd, 2009 at 11:42 pm

    Lord Andrew of Goulding

    Incredible!

    BTW, folowing Ranran’s link, her interests are:

    God,Famnily, Kisses, Giggles, Kids Distilled Water etc.

    Perhaps Likely could spunk on her to cheer her up.

    Lord Andrew of Goulding, February 3rd, 2009 at 2:38 pm

    Relax Max

    hey, nice site! i’m kinda a newbie in this blogging stuff plus I don’t know shit about links either. Holy Bilgecranny, man! – couldn’t you have waited another 5 minutes before rescuing yourself? I hate it when Lord Palmerston goes and entire chapter without getting a chance to go exploring! Not bad though. Ain’t sure yet if It will make me spring for a Tee though.

    Relax Max, February 3rd, 2009 at 10:58 pm

    Jeffman

    A fitting end to a rollercoaster ride of a literary wheeze, good sir.

    I am a little curious as to where one goes from here in discovering new ways to amuse your loyal, though thoroughly undeserving, readership.

    I look forward to his lordship’s adventures delivered via the medium of moving pictures and, dare I suggest, sound. If only such a technology existed.

    Jeffman, February 4th, 2009 at 1:00 am

    Tiggy

    I need a cigarette!

    Tiggy, February 4th, 2009 at 8:57 am

    Lord Likely

    Good day, my ravishing readers!

    Mr. L, sleep well, sir. You have earnt it!

    Ms. Ranran, it is always a pleasure to meet a new reader! However, while flattery will get you almost anywhere, and while I confess that I am terribly easy at times, I do not tend to do link exchanges quite so quickly. Only once a person has stuck by me, or made frequent comments, or performed lurid sexual acts upon my person do I allow them a spot in my highly-prized blog-roll. Just ask Mr. Max. He did all three.

    Mr. Bananas, hanging was probably to good for him, hmm? Maybe a sturdy boot to his arse would have been more appropriate…it might have cured the bounder of his terrible fetish as well!

    Lord Andrew, God, eh? Maybe she confused this lord for that Lord, then. It often happens, to be honest.

    Mr. Max, if you do not wish to purchase a tee, then just hand over the money and I shall see to it that it is well spent, sir.

    Mr. Jeffman, ’tis funny you should say that, sir, for there shall be a forthcoming announcement regarding upcoming entertainments which should delight, enrapture and doubtlessly arouse my loyal followers! Watch this space, sir!

    Tiggy, you know, I always smoke after intercourse. It is usually down to the immense friction caused by my Lord Palmerston.

    Toodle-pip!

    - Lord Likely.

    Lord Likely, February 5th, 2009 at 5:47 pm

    Pwn Greenland

    Although you may be awesome, you have claimed that the unsightly battlemomma63 aroused you. Therefore, you are clearly insane.

    Pwn Greenland, February 5th, 2009 at 10:22 pm

    nursemyra

    according to the answers in your poll, 10 people orgasmed at the end of each of your paragraphs. I surmise you have a lot of premature ejaculators reading this blog…..

    nursemyra, February 5th, 2009 at 10:42 pm

    Chris Wood

    At least that mad bitch helped assault Botter for you, m’Lord. Surely that is something?

    Chris Wood, February 6th, 2009 at 9:38 am

    Lord Likely

    Good day, all!

    Mr. Greenland, you call it insanity, I call it a place to stick one’s todger when all else fails.

    Nurse Myra, who can blame them, when they are faced with my devilishly handsome visage at the top of the page?

    Mr. Wood, you make a good point, sir. Maybe she shall be released early for good behaviour.

    Toodle-pip!

    - Lord Likely.

    Lord Likely, February 8th, 2009 at 5:36 pm

    Lord Likely

    In other news, dear readers, I fear I may soon be dead.

    Do not ask why…it is best you do not know.

    But something is afoot. Something terrible.

    - Lord Likely.

    Lord Likely, February 8th, 2009 at 5:38 pm

    Speak Forth to the Lord

    Further Excellence...

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    About His Lordship

    Lord Likely was a renowned member of the English aristocracy in the Victorian era. Tales of his exhilarating, enthralling and highly erotic exploits were legendary, but only now have his own, personal diaries resurfaced (found in a branch of Help the Aged in Swindon), shedding light on the life of this extraordinary eccentric.

    Warning: these journals contain material that some people may find terribly offensive, or incredibly arousing

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