Darker Passions: Frankenstein

by Kilpatrick, Nancy

  And beg I did. At the stable master's insistence. He gave me the words and I uttered them first through clenched teeth and then through quivering lips until they mingled with my sobs.

  "Master Gilles, I need training! Mark me well!" I cried.

  The crop lashed my ass to ribbons. Pain exploded each time the strip of leather cut me. I had no idea a whipping could be so brutal, so beautiful. The hand holding the crop was firm and steady, the intent behind it stern. Each lash found a new spot, increasing the rawness of my flesh. Burning pain pounded through my cheeks, pulsing, rippling, driving my mind over the edge until only one thought remained: I would give my all for this virile man who owned my every breath.

  The whipping lasted what felt like hours, what seemed like only minutes. My sobs were uncontrollable. My body flailed in agony. My brain had shut down so that I became a being of pain so interlaced with pleasure I could barely contain it. And yet through it all I was aware of my hard cock and tight balls containing my male energy and I felt submissive to this power greater than myself.

  I heard the stable master order me down and onto my knees.

  I do not recall how I got to the dirt floor, nor how I came to be facing his massive phallus. He was a god, his length and thickness beyond what I knew to be human. Without being told, I took his man rod between my lips and bathed it in kisses. It throbbed and pulsed in my mouth, it's salty, meaty taste pure delight. I knew I could have spent my life honoring him, never tiring. And yet as he swelled to even greater heights and the head thrust deep down my throat, he pulled back. A cry of despair burst from me.

  "Over the bale!" he demanded again.

  I proceeded to lie as before when he stopped me. "On your belly!"

  I lay upon the bale, the straw cutting into my trapped cock and balls. Their high position again forced my ass higher into the air than it would normally be. My cheeks burned as if they had been set afire. I did not know how I could tolerate another whipping. But it was not a whip that the stable master intended for me this time.

  Only when I felt the thick stick end of the crop probe my opening did I tense. What could he mean to do? Surely men did not enter one another! And yet I neither said nor did anything to stop him.

  As he spread my sore cheeks wide, nearly splitting my crack, he began to enter me, tearing flesh, pushing out my inner walls. His rod moved inward, then further inward. I did not believe he would stop and expected to find him exiting my mouth with such a length. His rod in size reminded me of a stud's cock. I could not bear such a stuffing, yet all within me gave way before him.

  My mind shut down completely. I became joined with him, linked. I opened to his every painful thrust, and closed with regret with every more painful withdrawal. "Master, fuck me hard!" I screamed. And he did.

  My cries turned into growls and screams and sobs as he impaled me, spewing his powerful juices that washed my insides of their childish ways. It was as though my hole drank him like a mouth, sucking out all that he had given me out of desperate need.

  When he was spent and had withdrawn himself, I lay on the straw feeling filled for the first time in my life. My entire body vibrated with sensation. My cock and balls still contained my juices. I knew at that moment my entire life had been affected in a manner that would alter the future.

  I heard the beam slide away and the barn door open. Sunlight streamed in and with it fresh air, letting me realize the close air had been saturated with sweat and leather and the sweet smell of man.

  "Tomorrow at noon, mes amies. Neither of you will be late!"

  I turned to look at Henry, grateful to my friend for sharing with me his good fortune which had lead to my discovery. I vowed to him then, "Should I ever be fortunate enough to possess a thing such value, what is mine will be yours, dear Henry."

  Chapter Five

  Elizabeth appreciated the pony's bit. She thought it ingenious. She was equally astonished by my leap forward in practical experience. I did not tell her about the stable master. Perhaps it was pride, but I wanted her to believe I had learned all this on my own, without the aid of another, or better yet, that I was highly creative.

  In order to keep my secret, I managed to delay our meetings in the gazebo to nights when the moon had waned or was in the process thereof. My new-found mastery meant I was learning to control the game on my own terms. I made a demand, one-sided to be sure, but through charm and promises of delights to come I managed, like Eros, to persuade Psyche that during her most assertive moments, viewing me even in moonlight would be disastrous. The conditions revered, however, when I was in charge. I flagellated her by candlelight, she whipped me only by the light of the moon. Reluctantly she agreed, much to my surprise, when I made a concession: there were orifices of her body I agreed not to breech.

  Her hand was not as strong as the stable masters, although she showed more endurance. Still, I scheduled daytime sessions with him regularly, and those nights I spent with Elizabeth. This meant my flesh had been tenderized by the time she took a strap or paddle to it; sensations inflicted on so raw a surface drove me wild with desire. There were one or two nights when my pony's bit proved ineffective in containing the explosion, but for the most part it worked quite well.

  I learned much from the hand of my harsh male tutor.

  One thing that he had etched into my awareness was the idea that when passions run deep, it is difficult to go too far. This proved to be the case with Elizabeth, much to my delight.

  I loved nothing more than experimenting on her behind. Those plump cheeks stayed crimson the remainder of that summer. I delighted in using my razor strop to tan her, the wide leather producing a red-purple shade without the weals produced by thinner straps, which I also employed. And then shaving in the morning, sharpening my straight-edge on that same strop, it would all rush back to me from the night before and my cock would swell with desire. Once I borrowed Gilles' crop, which resulted in peals of pleasure from my lovely's sweet lips. I used switches from the trees liberally, and even her hairbrush on occasion, paddling the nights away under the stars. But my favorite tool, the one which finally opened my beloved to me, was one that came about, like so many of my discoveries, by accident.

  Through all our nights of play in the garden gazebo, Elizabeth had insisted on the one thing I respected. Her mouth was the only orifice available to me. I understood the significance of entering her elsewhere, and yet that very prohibition made those two gates all the more desirable to crash, and I found myself pushing her nightly to go beyond her self-imposed limits.

  But Elizabeth was stalwart. Nothing effected her to alter her position. I took the matter up with Gilles one day and it was his opinion that I had not penetrated deeply enough into her soul. His offer was generous: if I would send Elizabeth to him, he would determine what she was about and pass that information on to me. Although I appreciated the offer, I decided I must find the key to her deepest passions myself. It was a point of honor.

  But the summer was quickly nearing its end. Shortly I would be returning to Oxford and Elizabeth and I would be parted, save for the occasional visit home. If I were to open her treasure chest, it must be soon. And, in truth, knowing Elizabeth's enormous needs as well as I did, I fully expected to find her maidenhead shattered by someone else come Christmas. A fine present that would be! I had invested too much time to hand her primed and ready to another. And she had become dear to me. Of course, the rational thing to do would have been to marry the girl, which I proposed. She was not adverse to the notion. In fact, the exchange of lickings in a warm marriage bed over the cold winter appealed. But my mother's wish was for a June wedding, among the roses surrounding our gazebo, and because she had been so kind to her, Elizabeth acquiesced.

  "Elizabeth," I said to her of an evening when lilac scented the air and the moon was new and we had just warmed one another's behinds sufficiently that sitting through breakfast would surely be uncomfortable. "I've a new element to the game, if you are willing and not afraid."
r />   "Afraid? I doubt you could invent a turn that I could not take," she said boldly.

  I smiled into the darkness, glad she could not see the conniving look on my face. "Good. Here's how it will be. Tomorrow evening, I shall go first."

  "You went first tonight. That's hardly fair. Why should you go first again?"

  "Because I say so!" I informed her, my tone low and dangerous enough to convey my intent.

  The mastery in my voice was not lost on her. Her tone became meek as she fell into her submissive role. "As you wish, Herr Frankenstein."

  "Good!" I said shortly, imitating in part what I had learned from Gilles. "I will permit you to choose the implement. For this concession, you will permit me to utilize it as long and as hard and in whatever manner I choose."

  She paused not even a complete second. "Yes! I love it!" Her voice was full of excitement. Then, in the more subdued manner that befitted her position, "I bow to your will, Herr Frankenstein."

  I began to turn away in mock indifference, but stopped. "Oh, and one other thing. I shall be directed by your wishes on our last night together before I depart."

  "Meaning?"

  "I shall do exactly as you wish. If you ask me to cease, even once, I shall. If you beg for more, you shall receive it, in abundance. Whatever you ask of me, I shall deliver to your satisfaction, stopping only at sunrise, or upon your request, whichever precedes the other."

  She thought about this for a moment. Finally she said,

  "Alright, Victor."

  She began to walk past me out of the gazebo. The scent rising from her body tantalized me and I caught her hair in my hand and twisted it in my fingers, gloating in my role as her overlord. I pulled her back against me. She gasped but submitted. I leaned low and whispered in her ear: "Choose your implement wisely."

  A shiver ran through her slender body. The scent from her cunny reached me and I pressed my lips hard against her mouth and filled her with my probing tongue. Whether or not it was my imagination, her scent became stronger. Her mouth admitted me fully, as if this orifice belonged to me completely and was welcoming the master home. My cock, still restrained, throbbed hard. Soon, my faithful friend, I told him. You shall find a warm moist tunnel of your own to call home.

  Chapter Six

  Evening arrived. The first of September air was cooler blowing down from the mountains, as if the wind carried change upon it. Overhead the clear sky permitted the display of an exceptional number of stars and a moon that, while still but a sliver, glowed magnificently.

  I sat upon the table in the gazebo awaiting Elizabeth. The air felt refreshing as a breeze whipped through the screen. Tonight would be our last night together until December, and I intended to leave her with a strong memory of me that connected us heart to heart.

  Before I saw her, I heard leaves rustling. A glow of white appeared, like a ghost coming to life. She stepped through the doorway of the gazebo.

  Her golden hair hung full about her beautiful waif-face, cascading over her shoulders and falling down to her waist. Through the thin fabric of her nightgown, I saw that her nipples were firm in anticipation and her breasts rose and fell quickly with rapid breathing.

  "The implement," I said.

  She handed over a simple rod of bamboo, split length-wise.

  Half an inch thick, five feet long, I recognized the cane from the workshop where a craftsman was reworking the veranda furniture. Her intent was as serious as my own.

  "You recall the rules?" I said.

  She nodded, but I repeated them for her anyway, ending with the warning, "Your wish is my command this night, and this night alone. I will give you all that you desire and no more."

  "I am ready," she said.

  She began to remove her nightdress, but I lifted a hand to stop her. The air was too cool and I did not wish for her to be chilled unnecessarily, although parts of her anatomy would soon be warmer than they had ever been.

  Instead of the table, I directed her to a heavy, low German I'd brought with me. Ironically the square seat was made of cane. "Kneel on the edge and grasp the back of the seat," I instructed.

  Once she was in position, I lifted the skirt of her dress from the hem, folding it over her head so that it was covered. I then wound the edges together and tied the corners so that she was caught from the waist up in a bag, as it were. She could hear well enough, and I could understand her, but her vision would be obscured by the cloth.

  From my pocket I removed several lengths of braided sash, the type used to hold drapes apart. I tied her wrists to the legs at the back of the stool and her thighs, once I'd spread them, to the front legs.

  Her delicious cunny twinkled in the moonlight, already moist with excitement. I used the rounded side of the cane to lightly pat her bottom. My strokes were short and quick. I kept my hand steady and my aim true so that the same spot might be attended to. Soon the multitude of short light strokes created a single line that stretched across the middle of her plump buttocks. Her legs began to quiver and from within the fabric I heard whimpering. Soon her bottom twitched, then twisted and turned, this way and that, desperate to avoid my perpetual strokes.

  I understood what she was feeling. Elizabeth had used this very instrument one evening on my shoulders. Without the energy needed for a whip or paddle, a light spanking with this cane, if it continued on long enough, produced a terrible agony, nearly unbearable.

  The whimpering turned to sobs, still I continued my easy work. "You may stop me any time," I reminded her. She said nothing, only emitted those deep sounds and kept twisting her bottom futilely.

  I worked on that spot for more than an hour. The line was dark, even in the dim light. The skin there swelled and looked about as tender as I expected it could get without splitting. One hard swat with the bamboo would do just that. In fact, were I to use the split side, blood would have flowed long ago. As it stood, I expected the skin was now ready to be peeled.

  Finally, she could contain herself no longer. "I did not expect you would punish the same place so mercilessly!" she sobbed.

  I paused. "Is this a request for me to cease my labors?"

  She paused as well, then gasped, "No, damn you!" at which point she began to cry in earnest.

  I was tempted to resumed my work post haste, but my fellow was complaining. Tonight he was not shackled as usual, but was free to express himself. I ushered him into the night air. It was as if he had eyes and could see Elizabeth's swollen cheeks. He soared to full height.

  I walked to the back of the stool and found an opening in the bag I had created around Elizabeth's head. Through this slit I injected my cock. He waited not long before hungry, wet lips found him and began earnest caresses. Tonight I gave myself free reign. As Elizabeth took me fully into her slick mouth and down her hot, open throat, I allowed myself the luxury of ejaculating immediately. Once she had licked me clean, I shut the opening in the fabric, and resumed my stance behind her.

  I did not wish to split her skin and when I began the gentle whacks with the cane I choose a new area, above the first, yet still clearly on the fullest parts of her cheeks. Soon she was squirming and screaming my name. Fortunately the fabric muffled the sound, else the family might have been awakened. I asked her once again if she wished me to cease, but she answered in the negative.

  I had insisted we meet early, as I wanted this last evening together to be full. My ministrations to her ass produced another swollen purple line that must have been excruciatingly painful. I expected she would not be able to sit for a week if I stopped now. But I had no intention of stopping unless she requested it.

  When I felt her at the point of surrender, and saw and smelled the juices seeping from her, my cock entered the opening in the fabric again and I came in her mouth.

  Immediately I resumed caning her ass, in a new spot below the other two. Through the night I repeated my pattern: a long caning until the spot was unbearably tender, then taking her orally.

  Each time I began the rou
nd again, I questioned Elizabeth to ascertain her wishes. And each time she requested I continue.

  But over the hours, her voice had altered considerably and the submission she normally feigned began to take on a true quality.

  Now when she said, "As you wish, my Master," I felt that truly she did experience my dominance on every level as her body and mind and soul yielded to me.

  I had exerted little overall energy yet when the predawn stillness ushered in over the land, all sound ceased except for the steady thwack of rattan against raw flesh and the muffled cries of pain and ecstasy from my beloved. My cock had not failed me. I had ejaculated seven times, in as many hours, and with each occasion I began to understand the nature of restraint. It seemed to come naturally enough when sufficient energy had been expended. Now each time her lips worked on me it took longer and longer for the climax to be achieved.

  But the time was ripe, I felt, and when I finished my eighth strip along the tender bottom that now resembled a swollen red balloon, I leaned low and whispered about where her ear must be, "Elizabeth, what will you have me do to you?"

  "Anything you desire, Master," came her sincere reply.

  "And if I should want to breech a new opening?"

  "Your wish is my wish, Master," she said immediately.

  These were the words I wanted to hear.

  I look up a position behind her wounded ass. Her cunny opening looked inviting. Liquid, like tears of longing, had flowed out of her all night and over the hours coated the insides of her thighs. Without question, that opening was anxious to admit me, of that I had no doubt. Still, I wished to save something for our future together and instead choose the other entrance.

  It lay puckered and eager, too long ignored, pale between the darkened trembling ass cheeks that swelled around it. The scent rising from her cunny filled the air and inspired my exhausted fellow to a second wind. I pointed him in the right direction and the tip of my cock nudged her bottom hole, suddenly alert and revived.