FrankenDom

  That evening, Julian was called away, so Colin had our dinner and ice packs delivered to my bedroom while I showered. Then I lay naked on my stomach, with the ice packs draped over my rear end, and let him sit on the cedar chest and feed me bites of roasted lamb, herbed potatoes and baby carrots between sips of red wine.

  “So tell me about you and Julian,” I invited.

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Everything. But that’s probably a lot to cover in one evening, so why don’t you start with how you got into a D/s relationship with him. Were you already into that?”

  He grinned as he finished chewing a bite of his own meal. “A little, but from the other side, which you probably already guessed.”

  “I was actually really surprised to find you bottoming for Julian,” I said, grabbing my wine glass off the rolling cart. “You seem like a total top to me.”

  “I am a total top to you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  He sat there quietly for a while, eating and thinking. Then he finally poked a bite of potato into my mouth and said, “I was a top, but I wasn’t in any way worthy of the title Dom. I just liked the thrill of topping, the risky edge to it. I didn’t care about the girls I tied up or what they got out of the experience, besides an orgasm or two.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. That fit with what I’d seen of him for the first of those two years.

  “Actually, I wasn’t just an asshole with women. My father died when I was a baby, and my mother spoiled me pretty badly all my life. I graduated high school at sixteen, finished medical school at twenty-three, and by the time I met Julian, I thought I was God’s gift to neurology. I had the brains and the hands to become a world-class surgeon and I knew it. But I was also impulsive, insensitive and hardheaded, and while Julian saw incredible potential in me, he also saw incredible potential for disaster. When he expressed interest in mentoring me, he made it clear that he was doing it out of sheer terror for my future patients, and at first I was offended enough to walk away. But he kept challenging me, saying I couldn’t take what he’d dish out, and when he finally said it in front of another resident, I said, ‘Fuck that. You’re on, old man.’”

  Smothering a laugh, I said, “I’ll bet he took that well.”

  Colin chuckled, too. “Yeah, he dressed me down like a drill sergeant, spitting on my face while he yelled at me right there in the hall. I took it just to show him I could, but I was supremely pissed and spent the next few weeks spewing attitude in private and in public. One day I told him I was leaving before the end of my shift because I had a girl to tie up, and he laughed so hard he was doubled over when he said ‘You think you’re a Dom? That poor girl.’”

  “Ouch.”

  “Mm-hmm. I kind of lost it then. I threw a punch and missed, and before I knew it, he had me on the floor with my arm twisted behind me back and his knee in my kidney. He pulled my head up by my hair and informed me that no Dom was allowed to dish out anything he couldn’t take. ‘How much can you take, Dr. Carter?’ he asked me. ‘I’m guessing precious little.’”

  Enthralled, I said, “Oh boy.”

  “Yup. I couldn’t let that challenge go unanswered, so I agreed to go with him to a real dungeon and prove myself. I wasn’t as confident as I acted, though, and when the dungeon turned out to be in his basement, I almost backed out. Kind of like you today, I’d never really been disciplined. My middle school principal had given me a few fairly public swats with the Board of Education, but those were meant to hurt my pride more than my ass and I’d laughed myself silly afterward. Julian was going to test my pain tolerance in a very isolated place, and I was suddenly very afraid he’d prove I had none—and then just keep going. It was a shock to feel that…vulnerable.”

  “Oh, Colin,” I sighed. Such a bad boy.

  “Did you get enough?” he asked, gesturing at the plates. When I nodded, he pushed the cart away and stood up. Plucking the ice packs and towel from my rear, he dropped them on the cart and traced a sore spot with his finger. “He got you pretty good, didn’t he, Miss Tenderbottom? You’ve got some bruising.”

  I tried to get a look at it but my neck didn’t twist that far. “Really?”

  “No, I just said that to make you say really.”

  Blowing him a raspberry, I slid off the bed and went to look in the mirror. Wow, there really were some mottled marks all over both cheeks. I couldn’t decide how I felt about them.

  “What’s the matter?” Colin asked, rubbing my butt and watching his hand in the mirror.

  “Is it bad that I’m kind of excited he left marks?”

  “Not at all. It’s pretty normal, actually—just don’t try to manipulate him into leaving more or he’ll figure out some other punishment you’ll hate a lot more.”

  I shuddered. “No thanks. I hated that one enough already.”

  After he pushed the cart out into the hall, he ducked into the bathroom and I heard the echo of urine splashing in the toilet.

  “Hurry up and get back to the story,” I said loudly. “The suspense is killing me.”

  “You’ll live.”

  By the time he came back, I’d gotten under the covers, and he stripped and climbed in with me, pulling me against his chest.

  “So where was I again?” he teased.

  “About to back out of a well-deserved beating from Julian.”

  “Ah, right. So anyway, I almost backed out again when he said subs had to be naked. But I forced myself to peel anyway, and when he stood there and looked me over, I was…” He shook his head and sighed. “It was a really ugly shock to get a hard-on for him. I’d never even thought about being attracted to a guy, but when he looked at me with those scorn-filled eyes, the damn thing refused to go down. I wasn’t even thinking about sex—in fact, I was pretty damn scared, but that only made me harder.”

  Breathing a little rapidly from the excitement of the past, I slid my hand under the covers and found his cock well on its way to excited in the present. Exploring him eagerly, I asked, “How did Julian react?”

  Colin rubbed circles on my shoulder with his palm and spread his thighs wider in invitation. “He smiled and said, ‘Now that’s what I like to see, a sub impatient for his beating.’ I started to deny it, but then I realized I’d be admitting I was hard for something else. I knew then I was in deep, deep trouble. I was an infant compared to him, ignorant as hell and totally defenseless. I didn’t move a muscle when he walked in a circle around me and pronounced me a very pretty boy. When I didn’t answer, he said, ‘The proper response to a compliment from your Dom is Thank you, Sir,’ so I said it without even hesitating. That’s when I knew my life of doing whatever I wanted and acting however I pleased was over.”

  “Wow,” I breathed, circling the base of his balls with my thumb and forefinger and tugging. “So did he beat you?”

  “Mmmmm. Yes, he did, but lightly enough that it was more of an insult. When he released me from the cross, I told him I could take more than that and he said, ‘Perhaps. We’ll see next time.’ I wanted to tell him there damn well wouldn’t be a next time, but of course there was, and by the time it happened, I was desperate for it. When I tried to manipulate him into punishing me by acting out, he just ignored me. Only when I behaved in a way that pleased him did he let me show him what I could take. Except that last day with you,” he added with a sigh. “That was the first and only time he ever hurt me in anger, and the last time he ever beat me with anything but the flat of his hand.”

  I instinctively soothed him with my fingers. “I’m sorry. Do you miss it?”

  “He’s so shockingly creative, I don’t usually have time to miss it,” Colin said dryly. “Rachel…”

  He sounded so serious, I looked up to find him looking down at me. “What is it?”

  “I wasn’t just jealous of Julian. I was jealous because you were just as into him as he was into you. You went all subbie and hot the very first time you saw him, and I know becaus
e I was standing right there watching your face. You never reacted to me like that—I wasn’t even a blip on your radar, except as an annoyance. Unless I was acting like an assmunch, you didn’t even notice I was alive.”

  Dumbfounded, I blinked at him. “Colin…that’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is. You two had this primal instant connection, and I wanted you both but you couldn’t stand me and he couldn’t be bothered to fuck me. Sometimes I thought maybe it was all a big mind-fuck, that you were both just playing with me until you could have each other.”

  “No, no!” I wrapped my arms around him. “That wasn’t it at all!”

  “I figured that out later, but that’s what I was afraid of, why I goaded you and why I pushed him. I wanted to make something happen because I couldn’t stand the waiting and not knowing. And I got what I wanted—for just that one night, Julian didn’t hold anything back, and though I was a blubbering mess by the time he finished with me, I loved every minute of it. The next morning, he explained to me, with his icy control very much back in place, exactly how badly I’d screwed myself, and him…and you.”

  “Oh, Colin, I’m so sorry!”

  “Don’t be. I’m not—not now, anyway. That day, the date on my stamp, was the day I grew up, the day I learned there are some people you’ll sacrifice anything for, everything for. Julian didn’t make me choose between going with him and staying with you. Instead he told me I was going to help him save his brother, but he put your name on my dick and told me if you couldn’t have it, no one could. I was…relieved. I wanted to be reserved for you. It made getting you back my destiny, one of the goals I was working for every single day.”

  I sighed against his chest. “I wish I’d been in on that goal.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  He kissed me then, one of those long, drugging Colin-kisses, and before I knew it, I was sprawled out on top of him, breathing heavily while he explored my sore cheeks with his hands. In love and in lust, I pushed up and back, but before I could impale myself on him, he caught my hips.

  “We don’t have permission,” he said with a wry quirk of his lips.

  “Aw!” I whined as I flopped back down on his chest. “You could have told me that sooner. Why?”

  “He says we both need rest, but I’m pretty sure it’s because he can’t be here to play with us.”

  “Hmph. That’s not fair. You both got to come at noon.”

  “And you got to suck the come out of three cocks at noon,” he pointed out. “Hans said to tell you he can’t wait for your next workout, by the way.”

  Snorting with reluctant laughter, I thumped him with my fist. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

  “I would but there’s a body on top of me and someone forgot to turn off the light.”

  When I slid off him to reach for the lamp, he cuddled up behind me. “Goodnight, my little come slut.”

  I smiled in the dark. “Goodnight, Colin.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Although I’d gone to sleep at barely nine o’clock the evening before, I woke up late and had to rush to make it to breakfast on time. I didn’t quite make it because my legs were so stiff and sore from the day before, I could barely walk, let alone run.

  Julian scowled at me when I limped in. “What time is breakfast served, Rachel?”

  “Eight-thirty, Sir, but—” I bit my tongue, refusing to look at Colin. It would have been nice if he’d woken me before he left this morning, but it wasn’t his responsibility.

  “But what, slave?”

  “Nothing, Sir. It’s my fault. It won’t happen again.”

  “Glad to hear it. Now sit down and eat, quickly. Normally I’d make you skip the meal but you missed a meal yesterday so I’ll have to think of some other punishment.”

  Sighing with both relief and resignation, I took my seat. “Yes, Sir.”

  But things went downhill from there. I’d just taken the first bite of my oatmeal when Julian said, “I assume your workout ran late?”

  I closed my eyes. Oh, crap. “No, Sir. I actually didn’t make it to my workout.”

  “And why not?” he drawled.

  “I forgot all about it, Sir. I don’t usually work out in the morning.” Or anytime.

  I braved a glance at him and then wished I hadn’t. He looked annoyed.

  “Rachel, I reminded you right before you went to sleep,” Colin said gently.

  Gasping, I cried, “You did not!”

  He shook his head, giving me a pitying look. “Rachel, did I or did I not say right before you turned out the light that Hans was looking forward to your next workout?”

  “Colin! That wasn’t a reminder. You were tea—”

  “It sounds like a reminder to me,” Julian said. “I realize that you don’t enjoy working out, Rachel, but it’s not acceptable for you to just not show up. I’m surprised Hans didn’t call to tell me you’d wasted an hour of his time this morning.”

  “But Sir—”

  “Silence!”

  Bristling with annoyance, I shut my mouth.

  “Now, you’ll finish your breakfast and go directly to the exercise facilities for your session with Hans. When you’re done, you’ll shower and meet us in the operating room. You will not go anywhere near the hot tub—understood?”

  Groaning inwardly, I nodded. I wouldn’t even look at the hot tub, no matter how badly I needed a good, long soak.

  It took me forever to limp down to the exercise room, and Hans lectured me for being late, for missing my first appointment, for not stretching before bed and when I got up, and for being generally lazy and out of shape. As if that weren’t torture enough, he worked me harder than he had than the day before, shouting at me in German half the time when I couldn’t keep up the pace he demanded or lift as much weight as he thought I should be able to. When my triceps turned to burning noodles and he sneered at me because I couldn’t do one more rep, I finally snapped.

  “Colin told you to take it easy on my arms, you prick!”

  “I am taking it easy, you little wienie,” he scoffed.

  “Fine. I’m a wienie. A done wienie,” I added, stomping off to the locker room.

  At my locker, I stripped as quickly as I could, groaning at the soreness in my legs and abs. I’d absolutely kill for five minutes in the hot tub, but I would have to settle for a hot shower.

  I looked around for the towels and finally saw a pile of them on a table between the steam and sauna doors. After I turned on one of the shower heads to let the water warm up, I picked my way gingerly across the cool tile and grabbed two towels off the table.

  When I turned around, I ran into Hans and stumbled.

  “Whoa!” He tried to catch me, but instead he shoved me right into the hot tub.

  As I went under, my mind went ten different directions at once. Julian was going to kill me. Was there any way I could keep him from finding out? Forget it, the guilt would eat me alive. I had to tell him. How long could I possibly stay in here and still consider it an accident? God, it felt so good! My butt still burned more than the rest of me in the hot water, and even that felt good. Colin was going to laugh his ass off when he heard. I still hated Hans. Just two more seconds…

  There was a splash beside me and Hans pulled me up. “Rachel, I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?”

  “Oh crap!” I gasped, struggling onto the ledge. I climbed out gracelessly, not caring if he was getting a shot of me from a lewdly unflattering angle.

  He vaulted out of the tub, still fully clothed, and took me by the arms. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, really,” I assured him. “I just need to shower and get out of here, okay?”

  “If you’re sure…” he said, his face still a study in caring concern.

  “Absolutely. But thank you.”

  “All right.” He wandered over to a locker and started undressing.

  Oh God, was I ever going to get used to this?

  * * * * *

  Once I made my way to t
he OR—right on schedule, thankfully—the rest of the day passed relatively uneventfully. Though as I expected, the fact that I’d been in the hot tub, however unintentionally, weighed on my mind. I’d tried to scrub the chlorine smell from my hair and skin, but I could still smell it. Could anyone else, or was it like Poe’s Tell-tale Heart, my guilt manifesting itself in an olfactory hallucination?

  I should have just told him right away and gotten it over with, but there never seemed to be a good time. We spent the remainder of the morning doing another quick walk-through of my part of the operation, and then after a rushed lunch of ham sandwiches and hot chocolate, Julian took me to the library, which was on the third floor. High-ceilinged and well-lit by numerous mullioned windows and bright chandeliers, it was easily the largest library I’d ever seen outside of a university.

  There, lounging in easy chairs, or poring over medical tomes on the large wooden library tables, were at least two dozen people who turned out to be specialists typical of transplant teams. Besides the obvious neurosurgeons and vascular surgeons, there were anesthesiologists, cardiologists, radiologists, hepatologists, nephrologists, orthopedic surgeons, pathologists...

  None of them wore any identification, and I assumed they had the same kind of nameless genetic-based identification I did. It didn’t escape my notice that hardly any of them were women, but that wasn’t an unusual statistic in the medical community and especially in surgery.

  I was pleased to finally meet Dr. Lang, who would be operating on the other side of me during the procedure. Probably in his mid-fifties, he was lean and well-groomed, and on the short side for a man—just about my height, actually, which meant I wouldn’t have to stand on a platform to operate.

  Julian explained that the remainder of the transplant team were arriving that evening, so we could begin full walk-throughs the next day. Practice runs on cadavers would commence five days later.

  That’s when I started getting butterflies. Good God, we were going to cut off two men’s heads and try to reattach them to each other’s bodies. Sometimes it sneaked up and jumped out at me from behind the mental door I’d closed on it.