FrankenDom

by Rotham, Robin L.

  He brought a bottle of water to my mouth, and while I drank, Julian wiped all the slickness from between my legs with a cloth.

  After I’d had several long swallows, Colin handed the bottle to Julian and lowered the table’s headrest to what must be a forty-five degree angle or more. Suddenly I was staring directly at the bulge in his slacks.

  He unzipped and pulled his stiff cock out through the fly. “Open your mouth for me, come slut.”

  I obeyed with heavy eyes, more than ready for another mouthful of him. When he pushed the head between my parted lips, I moaned and went straight to work sucking and licking. God, would I ever get over how much I’d missed his musky, masculine body?

  Tears burned my nose and I sniffled, blinking.

  “Rachel, are you okay?” he asked, pulling back.

  I sucked hard, refusing to let him go, and he groaned. “God, that’s good. Yeah, like that. Now let’s go deeper.” He rubbed his hand gently over my throat. “This table is perfect for deep-throating.”

  When I whimpered my alarm, he said, “I know you think you can’t do it, but the only way to learn is to keep trying. This table creates a straighter shot down your throat, so I want you to relax your mouth and throat and let me in. Don’t try to suck or swallow—let me do the work. Your job is to just keep breathing through your nose, take a deep breath when I tell you to and resist your gag reflex as long as you can. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Taking a deep breath to relax, I nodded and slid my tongue around his coronal ridge.

  “That feels really good, little slut, but no tongue either. Try to keep it out of the way. Now relax.”

  I sighed and obeyed, letting my eyes slide shut again. Leaving his fingers on my throat, he started moving in and out slowly, sliding against my tongue and the roof of my mouth, edging deeper with every thrust. I floated on the feeling of being used and bound, helpless to protect myself against whatever he decided to do. When he nudged between my tonsils and withdrew, we both shuddered but I managed not to gag at all. He stayed at that depth for a minute, sliding in and out, letting me get used to the feel of my throat being blocked.

  “Now take a deep breath.”

  When I did, he slid in and kept sliding until the fabric of his slacks pushed against my nose and chin—and stayed there. Instinctively I started counting as I tried to keep my throat relaxed. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9…

  I jerked against the wrist cuffs when my throat and stomach convulsed, and Colin pulled back immediately. Not out, just back far enough for me to gag loudly and catch my breath around his penis. Tears dripped from the corners of my eyes, and my nose felt full but it couldn’t drip upside down.

  “That was awesome, sweet come slut. Thank you.”

  “Yay,” I cheered weakly around the obstruction in my mouth.

  “Let’s try it again. Take a couple of breaths…now here it comes.”

  He pushed in again, deeper, and stayed there. I kept my eyes squeezed tightly shut against the crotch of his slacks. My throat wanted to squeeze again but I managed to count to fifteen before I panicked.

  Once again, Colin drew back at once, but this time he pulled out all the way, rubbing my throat as I gagged and coughed and cried. “Beautiful,” he said, leaning down to kiss me again.

  “I need to blow my nose,” I gasped.

  Strangely, blowing into the tissue he held was the most embarrassing event of the evening for me.

  “You’re being such a good little slut, I think you’ve earned your rectal inspection,” Julian said.

  I shook my head to clear it. “That’s a reward?”

  “You doubt me?”

  “Uh, no, Sir.”

  “I have it on good authority you enjoy this very much, cheeky little slut.”

  Uh-oh.

  I felt gloved hands on my butt cheeks and thumbs pulling them apart. And then a tongue in a place only one man’s had been.

  “Nooooo,” I wailed.

  “Why not?” Julian breathed against my butt. “Didn’t Colin come in this tight little hole yesterday morning?”

  Masculine groans reminded me of all the doctors observing, and a hot flush swept over my entire body. Now they all knew I let Colin do that to me.

  I was so lost in deviant excitement, I couldn’t answer.

  Colin tapped my cheek with his fingers. “Back to work, slave. I plan to come so far down that throat you’ll never even taste it.”

  Julian’s tongue penetrated deeply and I moaned as I opened to accept Colin’s cock. This time he pushed deep right away and backed out, paused and then pushed deep, never staying deep long enough to gag me. The longer he did that, the closer together the strokes got, and finally it dawned on me that he was fucking my throat.

  Absorbed in what was happening in my mouth, I lost track of Julian until he stood up and unzipped his pants. My pulse hammered suddenly, but before I could think, he leaned between my obscenely restrained legs and pushed his penis into my tender pussy, not pausing until the fabric of his slacks and lab coat pressed against me. Like Colin, he’d just pulled his cock out through his fly instead of dropping his pants.

  Why did that feel so much dirtier?

  “Rachel, Rachel,” he tutted as he rocked tightly against me, hot and hard inside me. “Your cunt is soaking my best trousers. I’m afraid I’ll have to punish you for that, my dear. After I’ve come, you may clean everything off with your tongue. Understood?”

  Thrilled, I gurgled, but Colin went deep again and stayed this time, rocking against me as tightly as Julian was, blocking out the world with the crotch of his pants. Seconds later, my hard gagging triggered a harder orgasm and I floated away.

  If I wasn’t a slut before, I certainly was after tonight.

  Chapter Twelve

  October 31

  My mother would be thrilled to know I’d settled into a healthy routine over the last two weeks. Three balanced meals a day. Exercise first thing every morning, followed by whatever personal assignments I’d earned the day before. Long afternoons spent reading the playbook, honing my speed-suturing skills, and participating in walk-throughs and practice surgeries with Colin and the other surgeons. And surprisingly early bedtimes, considering what we got up to most evenings.

  Of course, she’d be less thrilled to know about what we got up to most evenings and the deep-throating lessons Julian and Colin managed to work into even the busiest day, but I think she’d admit it was a price worth paying for the benefits of a healthy routine.

  What Julian did with the bulk of his afternoons wasn’t clear, but every time I started to think too much about the radical nature of the upcoming procedure, he’d subject me to some kinky scene in the evening that undid me completely, leaving me drifting and free of worry, at least for a few hours. It was almost as if he had an inside track to my most deeply buried fantasies—in all our scenes, I was either being objectified or in some kind of trouble, or both.

  I loved the classroom scenes in the library, where I received much more pleasurable bare-handed correction for a variety of behaviors that were either coerced or encouraged. One night Colin shoved my book off onto the floor and Julian, or rather Professor Kilmartin, made me stand up in my too-small schoolgirl costume and bend over, straight-legged, with my feet apart, to pick it up. Then he punished me for so proudly showing off my naked pussy. On another occasion, Colin talked me into giving him a blowjob when Mr. Kilmartin left the room. When he returned and caught me on my knees under Colin’s table, there was hell to pay, but the rush of misbehaving had already sucked me under before I ever bent over the teacher’s desk.

  One night when Julian was gone, Colin showed me the room beyond the mad scientist’s lab—the punishment room. Although the name was scary as hell, it was really just a typical BDSM dungeon, an assessment that, when I thought about it later, seemed frightfully jaded. But to me, the room lacked imagination and individuality and…Julian. Colin told me that if I wanted to play with impact toys here, h
e’d be the one to top me. I got the feeling he wouldn’t mind starting that night, but I wasn’t ready for that yet and didn’t know if I would ever be. I joked that I’d do it for him, expecting him to remind me who was the top, and I was surprised when he just said I’d need some training first.

  Later in the first week, we played an adult combination of hide-and-seek and tag that proved I was indeed very much an adrenaline junkie, and that I hardly had any inhibitions left. Colin and I took turns hiding on our floor of the castle—naked, of course—while Julian, Dirk, Vince, and Hans looked for us. Once we were spotted, we could run and try to hide again, but when we were caught—which we invariably were—the victor got to choose something from the punishment room or our own toy collections to “tag” us with. Being chased screaming through the castle was the most fun I’d ever had in my life, and it was even more fun after I accumulated a collar, a pair of alligator clamps joined by a silver chain, and a chastity belt equipped with something that slid into my vagina and another something that snugged up firmly against my clit. I didn’t get a good look at the somethings because Colin distracted me with languorous kisses, the louse. I really wished I’d spent more time exploring all the stuff hidden in my room so I knew what was in there.

  Though Colin was also tagged with nipple clamps, he eventually acquired a few different and rather intimidating tags, including a set of painful-looking black ball-stretchers. He also got the huge silver butt plug I’d seen the first night and a ring around his cock, both of which were attached by wires to a black box on a belt around his waist. When Julian pulled something that looked like a key fob from his pocket and hit a button on it, Colin jumped and hissed, then growled at Julian. Grinning, Julian hit the button just to make Colin do it again.

  “He doesn’t like the training mode,” Julian explained when I looked puzzled. Then his grin widened. “You won’t either.”

  That gave me something to worry over the next couple of rounds. When Colin was caught the next time, Hans tagged him with a black leather hood with a penis-shaped gag in the mouth hole. Colin didn’t look happy as it went on.

  My eyes widened when I realized the only opening was under his nostrils. Colin was blind and possibly deaf with that thing on. “That’s hardly fair!”

  “That’s what makes it fun, little slave,” Julian informed me.

  Needless to say, Colin came nowhere close to catching me all the way down the hall in the elevator tower, but Vince did. When he brought me back to the dungeon and put me in ankle cuffs hooked to an eighteen inch-long bar, I didn’t even bother whining. Instead, I watched as Julian changed the game, using just the remote in his hand to herd Colin around the room.

  “That’s just cruel,” I scolded as they chuckled at Colin’s jerks, gasps and growls.

  Julian turned and looked at me. “Is that so?”

  I could tell from his tone I was in trouble, and when he pulled another remote from his pocket I said, “Oh, shit.”

  “Why aren’t you running?” Julian asked, glancing at his watch. “Time’s almost up.”

  “What!” Growling myself, I hobbled toward the door as fast as I could. A twisting sensation seized my abdomen as biting tingles hit my clit. Gasping, I stumbled to a halt and bent over, pressing my hands to the belt over my crotch. “Oh my God.”

  “Run, Rachel, run!” Julian urged.

  I groaned. He had to be kidding. Straightening with difficulty, I made my way into the corridor. The tingles turned needle-sharp and I yelped, grabbing for my crotch again.

  “Wrong way, Rachel.”

  “Oh, you bastard,” I muttered.

  Sharp needles turned to sharp knives and my mouth opened in a soundless scream as I hunched over. Then the sensation dialed back abruptly.

  “What was that, slave?” Julian asked.

  Taking a deep breath, I said, “Thank you for the correction, Sir.”

  “Much better. Now run.”

  I turned and went the opposite direction. The needles struck again. “Yeow!”

  Grinding my teeth at their chuckles, I turned and opened my bedroom door. More needles. “Where the fuck do you want me to go?” I yelled.

  Knives.

  This time I fell to my knees with a shout. “I’m sorry, Sir! Please tell me what you want me to do.”

  The knives eased to needles. “I want you to follow where I lead you.”

  “Sir, is your middle name Obfuscation, by any chance?” I asked breathlessly.

  Laughs erupted behind me and the sensation settled back into an almost pleasurable tightness and throbbing. “No, slave, but I might make use of that moniker at some point. Where are you supposed to go?”

  What the hell? I’d tried to go both directions down the corridor and into my room. That only left one direction—back into the dungeon. Was I supposed to have run to him instead of away from him?

  Pushing back up to my feet with my hands, I turned and hobbled back across the corridor, cringing as I crossed the threshold. When nothing happened, I continued toward Julian. Needles made me veer off to the right, where Colin now knelt on the stone floor, leaning forward on his hands and moving like he was fucking an invisible person. Someone had removed his hood and he was watching me with his mouth hanging open.

  When the needles let up, I made my way to Colin and stopped in front of him. Needles made me move to his side and turn around. Pained pleasure made my knees buckle, and within seconds, I was in a posture identical to Colin’s, thrusting my hips at nothing as orgasm bore down on me. Without touching either of us, without saying a word, he made Colin and me come together again while he and the others watched avidly.

  I was surrounded by perverts, sadists, and control freaks, and I loved it.

  A couple of days later, we had another scene in the medical clinic that made the first one seem tame by comparison. I safe-worded fairly quickly and made it clear that certainly bodily functions always had been, and always would be, private.

  Julian made it clear that he would never stop pushing that limit. When I demanded to know why, he said, “Because it’s rooted in shame, and there’s no place in our relationship for shame.”

  I knew then that limit was doomed, but I made up my mind to fight the good fight as long as I could. That night, as Colin and I cuddled in the dark, he warned me that if I stayed with them, I would eventually have no limits. Julian wouldn’t allow any to stand.

  For a second, I squirmed. “But why? Why can’t he respect that I have…well, limits?”

  “He needs the control,” Colin said softly. “There’s too much in this world that’s beyond his control, so he controls what he can.”

  I hesitated for just a second before asking, “Do you have any limits?”

  “Not anymore. I’m his to do with whatever he pleases, and it’s made me a better man—and believe it or not, a better Dom—than I ever thought I could be. I’m his Galatea.”

  My heart thudded uncomfortably in my throat as tears welled in my eyes. I envied what they had. I wanted it. But I was afraid.

  As if he could read my mind, Colin said, “Rachel, you’re a doctor. You know all bodily processes are not only natural, but required. You wouldn’t think twice about letting a nurse check your fluid output levels or bowel function after you had abdominal surgery, would you?”

  “That’s different—it’s necessary. And I certainly wouldn’t enjoy it.”

  I felt him shrug. “It’s necessary for Julian, too. And you don’t have to enjoy it. That’s a lot of what being a slave is about—doing things for your master’s pleasure rather than your own.”

  That comment was enough to keep my mind working overtime for days.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much else to distract me. Every time I looked out the window and found the driveway plowed and the cobblestone walkways through the weed gardens scooped, I thought about going for a walk just to clear my head. Then I noticed the clear ice building up in the corners of the windows—on the inside—and decided I wasn’t
brave enough to face the cold.

  A couple of days ago when I looked out, I saw Julian pushing someone down the walk, away from the castle. Though the man wore one of those Scandinavian hats with ear flaps, I could see a jaw and nose that were unmistakable.

  Had his brother already arrived for the surgery? Would I get to meet him beforehand? I hoped so, especially since there was a good chance he might not survive long enough to meet me afterward.

  That evening at dinner, I asked, “Was that your brother I saw you with this afternoon?”

  Julian paused with his soup spoon at his lips, looking startled. “This afternoon?”

  “Yes, outside on the walk. I saw you through the window and thought he looked a lot like you.”

  He glanced at Colin and then sipped the soup off the spoon before answering. “Yes, that was Jordan. He stopped for a short visit.”

  “Can I meet him?”

  Julian shook his head. “I’m sorry, but he’s already gone and won’t be back until the day of the surgery.”

  “That’s too bad. I would have loved to get to know him.”

  Looking annoyed, Julian said, “You can get to know him when he wakes up after the surgery. And he will wake up. Do not doubt it.”

  “I’m sure he will,” I said quickly.

  He stiffened. “Don’t placate me with banality, Dr. McBride. Believe me. Have faith in me. I will not let my brother die, do you understand?”

  “I do,” I said with tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry, Sir. I do believe in you. I love you.”

  Julian wiped his mouth with his napkin before standing up. “I love you too, Rachel,” he said quietly.

  Then he left without finishing his dinner and we didn’t see him for the rest of the evening. I should have been happy that he loved me, but instead, I worried. Why did his confession sound so…resigned? What was he doing? What was he thinking? I hated having to go to bed without at least our usual parting kiss.

  “Do you think he’s okay?” I asked when we got to my room.

  Colin sighed as he pulled off his shirt. “He’ll be fine. He’s just got a lot on his mind and a lot to do between now and the surgery.”