MMOM Day 9-"Insomnia" Jeeves & Wooster Rating-PG13 Wordcoung-
Title: Insomnia
Fandom; Jeeves & Wooster
Pairing: Jeeves/Wooster
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 725
Notes: Icon Prompt from tourmaline1973. Speedy beta and especially Brit-checking by 51stcenturyfox. Remaining errors are my own.
Summary: Jeeves is no ordinary valet.
“Jeeves, I’ve learnt something exceedingly disturbing from some of the fellows down at the Drones Club this evening”
“Did you wish to unburden yourself of this information, sir?”
“Well it certainly needs a good airing out, doesn’t it? Seeing as it doesn’t reflect well on your profession, Jeeves, not at all.”
“Perhaps you should convey the entire tale to me. All may not be as it appears.”
“Well, it bally well better not be, for the sake of valet-dom everywhere.”
“What exactly was the point of concern, sir?”
“Well, there we were, down at the club, trying to decide if we should have a last round before the last round or just have the last round, when Oofy Prosser mentioned that he’d been having a deuced bother of a time falling asleep for the past few nights.”
“I am sorry to hear that. I understand the streets of London are safer when Mr. Prosser is in the arms of morpheus.”
“Naturally all the boys started bandying about their favourite cure-alls and tonics. Even that old saw about counting sheets. What on earth would be the point of that?”
“I couldn’t say, sir.”
“Nor could I really, and frankly I found the whole discussion a bit odd, when the obvious solution was well….obvious, so I told Offy about that thing you do when I’m suffering a bout of insomnia.”
“Bringing you a glass of warm milk, with quarter cup of brandy?”
“No, not that…”
“Reading to you from the philosophical writings of John Stuart Mill?”
“Heavens no! I told him about that thing you do when I get a bit of stiffie in my shorts and can’t sleep, so you take my chimney sweeper in your manly fist and give it a good rubbing, followed by a gentle squeeze of the old nut-sack, after which, I expel a bit of juice and gasp for air. Then you clean me off and I sleep like the proverbial babe-in-arms.”
“Ah yes. The technical term is masturbation which is believed to derive from the latin words ‘manus,’meaning hand and ‘turbare’;to disturb. Although it is possible you might hear it described as the Sin of Onan among those of an ecclesiastical bent.”
“I hardly see what honouring the Sabbath has to do with it. Anyway, I made the perfectly sensible suggestion to Oofy, telling him that his manservant should be familiar with the technique and he looked rather perplexed. He said that was the sort of thing a man generally did on his own or asked a woman of ill repute to engage in.”
“Sir…I’m not really sure this was the best topic for an open discussion in such a milieu…”
”At that point, Bingo Little joined in, and he stated most emphatically that if he wanted such stimulation on a regular basis he’d actually look to getting hitched. I say Jeeves, it’s bad enough we expect the poor dears to bear children and organise flower shows. What transpires between a gentleman’s gentleman and his John Thomas is hardly a fit thing to trouble the fairer sex with, wouldn’t you say, Jeeves?”
“Well…”
“And, yet, if I understood the gist of the conversation, and quite frankly, I was hoping I didn’t, it appears that the service you render to me under these circumstances is quite singular. That in fact, many of my chums are being rather piteously neglected and left to, dare I say it, fend for themselves? Please tell me this is not the case, Jeeves?”
“Sir. If I might explain. In the lineage of valets that came before me, this was once considered a necessary duty and obligation of the manservant toward the employer and the gentleman’s gentleman of yesteryear would no more allow an employer to handle this matter unassisted than to leave the house with an improperly knotted ascot. However, as I’m sure you know, this is considered a more modern age, and in the era of the steam engine as well as the electric cuckoo clock, there are certain things are felt to be beyond the purview of even the most dedicated valet. So in a word, sir: progress.”
“Dashed shame, I say.”
“Quite, sir.”
“You don’t adhere to such “modern” notions, do you Jeeves?”
“Certainly not, sir.”
“I can still rely on your assistance when necessary?”
“Without hesitation.”
“Perhaps now, Jeeves?”
“Very good, sir.”
Fandom; Jeeves & Wooster
Pairing: Jeeves/Wooster
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 725
Notes: Icon Prompt from tourmaline1973. Speedy beta and especially Brit-checking by 51stcenturyfox. Remaining errors are my own.
Summary: Jeeves is no ordinary valet.
“Jeeves, I’ve learnt something exceedingly disturbing from some of the fellows down at the Drones Club this evening”
“Did you wish to unburden yourself of this information, sir?”
“Well it certainly needs a good airing out, doesn’t it? Seeing as it doesn’t reflect well on your profession, Jeeves, not at all.”
“Perhaps you should convey the entire tale to me. All may not be as it appears.”
“Well, it bally well better not be, for the sake of valet-dom everywhere.”
“What exactly was the point of concern, sir?”
“Well, there we were, down at the club, trying to decide if we should have a last round before the last round or just have the last round, when Oofy Prosser mentioned that he’d been having a deuced bother of a time falling asleep for the past few nights.”
“I am sorry to hear that. I understand the streets of London are safer when Mr. Prosser is in the arms of morpheus.”
“Naturally all the boys started bandying about their favourite cure-alls and tonics. Even that old saw about counting sheets. What on earth would be the point of that?”
“I couldn’t say, sir.”
“Nor could I really, and frankly I found the whole discussion a bit odd, when the obvious solution was well….obvious, so I told Offy about that thing you do when I’m suffering a bout of insomnia.”
“Bringing you a glass of warm milk, with quarter cup of brandy?”
“No, not that…”
“Reading to you from the philosophical writings of John Stuart Mill?”
“Heavens no! I told him about that thing you do when I get a bit of stiffie in my shorts and can’t sleep, so you take my chimney sweeper in your manly fist and give it a good rubbing, followed by a gentle squeeze of the old nut-sack, after which, I expel a bit of juice and gasp for air. Then you clean me off and I sleep like the proverbial babe-in-arms.”
“Ah yes. The technical term is masturbation which is believed to derive from the latin words ‘manus,’meaning hand and ‘turbare’;to disturb. Although it is possible you might hear it described as the Sin of Onan among those of an ecclesiastical bent.”
“I hardly see what honouring the Sabbath has to do with it. Anyway, I made the perfectly sensible suggestion to Oofy, telling him that his manservant should be familiar with the technique and he looked rather perplexed. He said that was the sort of thing a man generally did on his own or asked a woman of ill repute to engage in.”
“Sir…I’m not really sure this was the best topic for an open discussion in such a milieu…”
”At that point, Bingo Little joined in, and he stated most emphatically that if he wanted such stimulation on a regular basis he’d actually look to getting hitched. I say Jeeves, it’s bad enough we expect the poor dears to bear children and organise flower shows. What transpires between a gentleman’s gentleman and his John Thomas is hardly a fit thing to trouble the fairer sex with, wouldn’t you say, Jeeves?”
“Well…”
“And, yet, if I understood the gist of the conversation, and quite frankly, I was hoping I didn’t, it appears that the service you render to me under these circumstances is quite singular. That in fact, many of my chums are being rather piteously neglected and left to, dare I say it, fend for themselves? Please tell me this is not the case, Jeeves?”
“Sir. If I might explain. In the lineage of valets that came before me, this was once considered a necessary duty and obligation of the manservant toward the employer and the gentleman’s gentleman of yesteryear would no more allow an employer to handle this matter unassisted than to leave the house with an improperly knotted ascot. However, as I’m sure you know, this is considered a more modern age, and in the era of the steam engine as well as the electric cuckoo clock, there are certain things are felt to be beyond the purview of even the most dedicated valet. So in a word, sir: progress.”
“Dashed shame, I say.”
“Quite, sir.”
“You don’t adhere to such “modern” notions, do you Jeeves?”
“Certainly not, sir.”
“I can still rely on your assistance when necessary?”
“Without hesitation.”
“Perhaps now, Jeeves?”
“Very good, sir.”