FrankenDom

by Rotham, Robin L.

  Chapter Eight

  We went our separate ways to shower quickly and then Colin escorted me to breakfast in Julian’s sitting area, which was served promptly at eight. Once again, Julian was in jeans and a sweater, this one pearl gray, but this time he kissed me lightly on the lips before pulling my chair out for me. Colin got the same treatment.

  Julian immediately delivered the promised quiz and I passed with flying colors, which wasn’t surprising. Once read, the details of my personal conduct agreement were pretty hard to forget.

  Then he asked to see my lines.

  Wincing, I paused with my grapefruit juice halfway to my mouth. “Oops. I didn’t really have time last night.”

  “You would have had time if you’d stayed in your room as ordered,” he pointed out severely.

  “Well, yes, but then I wouldn’t have gone to the dungeon, would I?” The sight of his eyebrow going up imperiously made me sigh. “Sorry, you’re right. But I think I had a lot more fun disobeying orders.”

  “If that’s the case, you can write the lines I’ve already assigned and then you can write Obeying my Master is more important to me than having fun one hundred times. After we’re done with breakfast, you’ll fetch pen and paper from your room and write them here, where I can keep an eye on you. Understood?”

  I sighed again, scowling at an amused Colin. “Fine.”

  “The correct response would be Thank you, Sir. After all, I’m allowing you to eat your breakfast first…for the moment.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I said hurriedly. “Thank you very much, Sir. I’m starving.”

  “Because you didn’t eat the dinner I provided for you last night,” he reminded me with another frown. “I’m still thinking on a punishment for that one, though I suppose going hungry qualifies as its own punishment. Don’t do it again.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Lili placed a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and wheat toast in front of me and I thanked her before tucking into them.

  “So, do you have questions this morning, Rachel?” Julian asked as he spread jam on his toast.

  God, where to start? “Colin said I had to ask you about the tattoo on his penis.”

  “I knew she’d go right for that one,” Colin murmured before sipping his coffee.

  Julian sighed. “That’s a rather distressing story that begins the day of Colin’s thoughtless words to you five years ago, when he goaded you about your attraction to me.”

  I listened with wide eyes and a full mouth as he continued, “We hadn’t become lovers yet, but he was living in my house and I’d been playing my sadistic little games with him for almost a year. I’d just received some shocking news and was already planning on taking him further, being a little more brutal with him, than I ever had before. Which wasn’t a prudent call on my part, I know, but he’d been begging for it for weeks so why not satisfy us both?”

  Breathless and nerve-wracked, I gulped down the last of my eggs.

  “I was even planning on fucking him, though I’d intended to save that until his residency ended. I’d wanted to make it a special occasion we’d both remember fondly. But I needed him that night, and the occasion was momentous enough to warrant a change of plans. Do you know what happened, Rachel, when Colin came home and confessed what he’d said to you, that he’d hurt you?”

  I shook my head, almost afraid to hear.

  “I beat him within an inch of safe-wording and then made him my sweet, dirty fuckhole. I rode his beautiful, hellishly striped and bruised virgin ass until he screamed himself hoarse. Isn’t that right, fuckhole mine?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Colin said. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Don’t ever thank me for that, Colin,” Julian said sharply. “I wasn’t proud of myself afterward, and I still regret that our formal relationship started with violence, not to mention such a lack of control and rational thought on my part. If I’d realized you were provoking me out of jealousy—”

  Colin’s eyes widened. “Sir, I—”

  “Don’t bother denying it or I’ll have you caned again for lying. I played right into your hands and if I hadn’t been so wrecked, I might have realized it.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Before I tell Rachel the rest of the story, why don’t you show her your other stamp of ownership.”

  Colin slid me a sideways look and then rose from his chair to stand beside me, facing away. My gaze was just wandering down his long, finely muscled back, clearly outlined beneath his bright blue polo, when I heard the clink of his belt buckle and the buzz of his zipper.

  When he dropped trou, I dropped jaw. He was wearing low-rise, white-trimmed, bright blue underwear that left most of his spectacular buttocks bare.

  Even more shocking, there was actually a tattooed stamp, probably five inches in diameter, spanning the lower part of both cheeks. It was made of two concentric circles with block lettering in between—on the left side it said PROPERTY OF JXK, and on the right was a date very near the last time I’d seen Colin.

  How had I missed that in all our nude capering? I touched the date with an awed fingertip.

  “The morning after I claimed his ass, I took him to a friend of mine and had those stamps tattooed on him to remind him whom the various parts of his body belong to,” Julian said with a compelling look. “He hasn’t fucked anyone with that cock, in any orifice, since the last time he was with you.”

  My mouth worked for a second before I said, “Not even oral?”

  “Not even oral.”

  “Good God, why not?”

  Julian shrugged. “I’m a possessive man, and once I claimed him, he was never going to be allowed to fuck anyone but you anyway. I don’t bottom. Ever,” he added darkly. “I would have used my mouth on him, but I thought making him save his cock for you was a punishment that fit his crime.”

  God, that was…harsh. No wonder Colin had whined last night at the thought of not having me.

  “But…why? We were just sleeping together.”

  “Rachel, you were mine for the taking from the moment we met—”

  Flushing, I crossed my arms. “Excuse me, conceited much?”

  “Please have the courtesy to let me finish.”

  When I narrowed my eyes and held my tongue, he continued, “If you’re honest, you’ll admit that the attraction between us was instantaneous and entirely mutual.”

  “All right, yes,” I admitted grudgingly. “It was mutual.” Which made me feel only slightly better about having been so transparent.

  “Thank you for your candor. So while you were clearly meant to be mine, I was a fellow and you were a resident so any sexual relationship between us was forbidden. I could probably have gotten away with a very discreet D/s relationship like I had with Colin, but at that point in time you were too…unformed for me to feel comfortable taking advantage of our attraction.”

  “Unformed!” This tale just got worse and worse.

  “Rachel, your residency was just beginning to shape you into the surgeon you would become, and you needed to complete it without my influence.”

  “That’s a bunch of crap. You had nothing to do with my residency.”

  “Not directly, no, but I was in a position of authority at the hospital and you were very susceptible to my dominance. I couldn’t chance that you might one day view yourself as some sort of Galatea to my Pygmalion.”

  I was floored. “Wow, you didn’t think much of me, did you?”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth, Rachel Anne,” he said calmly. “I actually thought quite highly of you—it was you who lacked confidence in yourself.”

  I stilled. “So?”

  “So you also suffered from an overabundance of empathy with your patients and had difficulty compartmentalizing. Isn’t that true?”

  “Yes…” I said slowly. “At first.”

  “Do you think it would have been any easier for you to leave your submission to me at home than it was to leave your patients and their difficulties at the hospita
l?”

  “I don’t know.” Then I thought about my gut reaction to the sight of him. “Probably not.”

  “I don’t believe I could have left my dominance at home either, Rachel. Self-confidence and the ability to compartmentalize are vital assets for every surgeon. Without them, you burn out much too quickly, and it would have gone against every dominant instinct I had to stand back and watch that happen to you. Interference from me would only have reinforced your self-doubt, but if I’d claimed you as my submissive, I don’t think I could have helped myself. Then you might have forever wondered if I were responsible for your success.”

  “So you gave me up for my own good,” I said sourly.

  “I didn’t give you up. I merely bided my time. My intent was to remain on the fringes of your daily life and let Colin indulge in a little domination play with you until you were ready to be claimed, but…life had other plans.”

  I sighed. “You realize this whole thing is incredibly Machiavellian.”

  He smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Permission to sit back down, Sir?” Colin said.

  Julian shifted in his chair. “First show her what belongs to me.”

  Sighing, Colin bent over and reached back to pulled his cheeks apart. His anus was perfectly centered in the circle.

  “It looks even better with my cock buried to the root in it,” Julian observed. “What do you think, Rachel?”

  Clearing my throat, I said, “Not long on subtlety, is it?”

  “It’s not supposed to be.”

  I squirmed in my seat, alarmed to find myself aroused again. What would it feel like to be owned so completely, and to have that ownership so proudly and explicitly proclaimed to anyone who got too close? Would I ever find out?

  It was a shock to realize I was a bit jealous of Colin again. I’d always sworn I’d never get a tattoo, especially after they became so trendy, but my mind immediately went to work on how an artist could possibly center one around my vagina. There was some incredibly sensitive flesh there—although there was plenty of fat, too, which should make it marginally less painful. As an added bonus, my family would never have to know I had it.

  Colin sighed. “Am I done here, Sir?”

  “You are, but come here.”

  Colin tucked in his shirt and zipped up as he rounded the end of the table and then dropped easily to his knees beside Julian’s chair, resting his hands on his thighs. “Yes, Sir?”

  Plunging his hand into Colin’s thick hair, Julian stroked his head repeatedly and watched as Colin let his head fall back with a contented moan. “Were you embarrassed to show Rachel your stamp, my darling fuckhole?”

  “No, Sir. It amused me and turned me on. I mean, how often can you get away with mooning a beautiful girl, up close and personal, at the breakfast table?”

  “You amuse me,” Julian murmured with a smile. “Turn me on, too.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  With his free hand, Julian took off his glasses and tossed them on the table. Then he pulled Colin forward by the neck and kissed him like he was the next breakfast course and he just couldn’t get enough.

  My eyes prickled and I wondered if there would ever come a time when I wouldn’t find the spectacle of their kissing heartbreakingly lovely—or when I wouldn’t be even a little bit jealous.

  When he finally pulled away, Colin swayed before opening his eyes.

  “And now,” Julian said, “I suppose you’d both better finish your breakfasts so that Rachel can get her lines out of the way. We have much to accomplish today.”

  * * * * *

  At nine-fifteen, I walked down the hall between them, trying to shake the cramp out of my right hand. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d hand-written much more than notes on a chart.

  “So tell me about this surgery we’re preparing for,” I said as we stepped into the elevator. “Is it related to your Bain’s research?”

  “It is. Let’s get your key to the labs and then I’ll give you the full tour and explain everything as we go.” He let his eyes wander down over my body—which was clad in my own conservative gray slacks and a black sweater set, thank you very much—and then raised them to mine again. “You look very competent this morning, Dr. McBride.”

  Uncertain what he was trying to say, I simply replied, “Thank you.”

  We rode down to the next level and entered a corridor that was more reminiscent of a hospital. Our first stop was a large, unlocked linen closet, where Colin picked up a lab coat for me to put on. He and Julian were both already wearing lab coats they’d pulled from his coat closet.

  The next stop was a security-protected door, where Colin held up some kind of card to the scanner. When the lock released, he held the door open for me.

  “We’ll need to get your access set up first,” he said. He hit a button on what looked like a laminating machine, and when a card similar to his popped out, he held up in front of my face. “Lick this.”

  I gasped and my hands flew up to my cheeks. It was a close-up of me from last night. For God’s sake, I looked like some strung-out low-rent streetwalker—neck and shoulders bare, dark brown hair a rat’s nest, blue eyes glazed and unfocused, mascara smudged, lips wet, parted and swollen…

  How in the hell had they managed this?

  “That’s your employee ID,” Julian said behind me. “Lick it, please, before the biocoating sets up.”

  That was my employee ID? I spun around and gaped at him. “Absolutely not! There’s no—”

  Without warning, my hair was seized and twisted hard enough to make me yelp. When my hands flew up to claw at whatever had me, the ID card was shoved far enough into my open mouth to make me gag and dragged right back out before my teeth could snap down on the evil fingers guiding it.

  “Thank you,” Colin said cheerfully as he released me.

  Stumbling away, I put my back to the wall and stared at him while he leaned against the counter, waving the card in the air and grinning at me like an eight-year-old who’d just pulled the pony tail of a little girl he liked.

  Why in God’s name had I thought I loved him?

  “Gorgeous picture,” he said in an admiring tone. “You look like you just had your face fucked and are begging for more.”

  “What the hell was that?” I demanded. My scalp stung as thought it had been swarmed by killer bees—and my clit was throbbing madly, dammit.

  “That, Dr. McBride, was just a taste of what you will feel when you fail to follow my instructions in a timely manner,” Julian said. “Normally I’ll keep our professional and personal relationships completely separate, but since we’re alone and time was of the essence, I felt it best to act decisively. I’ve been very lenient with you so far, but you need to realize there’s a limit to what I’ll tolerate. Now, come with me.”

  When he turned and walked out, I glared at Colin. “You didn’t have to pull that hard, you asshat!”

  “No, but I’ll bet my next paycheck it made you wet,” he said with a grin. When I couldn’t answer, he held out the ID card. “Keep this with you at all times.”

  I eyed it with loathing. “I’m not using that.”

  Colin looked like he was fighting a laugh. “Relax, Rachel—Julian and I are the only ones with access to the identification systems. Nobody else will see it.” He tucked the card into the pocket of my lab coat. “Now go, before you get yourself into more trouble.”

  When we caught up to Julian, he was holding open a door labeled Surgical Suite. I followed him down yet another corridor and into the largest scrub room I’d ever seen. There were enough sinks for a dozen doctors to scrub in at once.

  I corralled my slack jaw long enough to say, “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

  He shrugged. “What would be the point?”

  From there, we went directly into an OR that made the scrub room look small by comparison. In addition to the operating table, the room had seven remote monitoring stations, all
numbered and connected by a complex, multicolored system of arrowed lines taped to the floor. Several of the lines ran into yet another OR that was just as large and complex. It almost looked like they were choreographing two different operations.

  I was totally lost. “What sort of procedure will we be performing here?”

  “Reciprocal transplant surgeries,” Julian said. “There will be a total of 76 personnel in and out the operating rooms during the procedures, so we needed a well-defined system to manage them all. We’ve already been doing partial walk-throughs with the various teams, but now that you’re here, we’ll begin full walk-throughs followed by practice runs on cadavers.”

  “Reciprocal transplant surgeries?” I gaped at him. “They’re going to trade organs?”

  Julian shook his head. “We’re going to perform the first human head transplants.”

  Chapter Nine

  He said it so casually, I thought he was joking. But neither he nor Colin cracked a smile.

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible. If it can be dreamed, it can be done.”

  “But…why? Why would you even want to attempt something like that? Why would anyone agree to be the subject of such an experiment?”

  Julian began ticking off points on his fingers. “We have a patient in the final stages of Bain’s Atrophy, we have a revolutionary new procedure that could give him a chance at life, and we have a viable donor. Why wouldn’t we want to attempt it?”

  My head was spinning. “You do realize this would require a living donor.”

  He lifted his brows. “It wouldn’t make much sense to transplant the head to a dead body, would it?”

  “You said reciprocal—that means the donor would receive the patient’s dying body. You can’t do that, Julian. Even if he survived the procedure, the donor would eventually die of the disease currently killing the recipient.”

  “The donor would be allowed to expire on the table.”

  I gaped at him. “Do the words ‘First do no harm’ ring any bells for you, Doctor? What you’re suggesting is not only highly unethical, it’s illegal as hell! You can’t sacrifice one person’s life to save another. Life being a relative term,” I added acidly. “Even if you could somehow keep the recipient’s vital organs functioning, he’d be completely paralyzed forever. What kind of life would that be? How would it be any better than suffering from Bain’s?”