Darker Passions: Frankenstein

by Kilpatrick, Nancy

  This dangerous line of thinking drove me nearly out of my mind, day after day, and the voices of paranoia only dimmed to a whisper when I'd been thrashed and fucked to within an inch of my life.

  Finally the day arrived. The service was held outdoors, at the foot of the garden. The screens had been removed from the gazebo, and the wood and lattice freshly painted and adorned with fragrant pastel flowers.

  Elizabeth and I stood in the gazebo with our clergyman between us, Crea and Henry on either side. The ceremony went smoothly. We exchanged our vowels. Our kiss was longer and deeper and involved more tongue exchange than normally my mother would have permitted. Rice was thrown as three musicians played the familiar musical refrain.

  A lavish reception was held that afternoon, and even before the sun set we were driving to the train station alone together for our honeymoon trip to the Alps.

  Crea would be leaving in the morning, returning to Oxford and M. Krempe, who could not attend the wedding. It had been a tearful goodbye between Elizabeth and Crea, but finally I had managed to separate them. For the first time in almost a year I felt on solid ground with my beloved.

  As we sat in our compartment, I stared across at my radiant bride. Her waif-like beauty overwhelmed me with desire. Tonight she would be mine, and mine alone.

  "You are so lovely," I told her.

  "Oh, Victor, you have made me so happy," she said.

  "Not as happy as I intend to make you. Come, sit by me."

  She came across the compartment and sat close.

  "Tell me, darling," I said, "what is your fantasy? I want to please you and I shall endeavour to give you what you most desire."

  She thought for a few moments. Suddenly her smile broadened and she kissed me on the lips. "My fantasy is to be impaled by both you and Crea at once!"

  I felt my face darken as my lips turned down and the muscles in my cheeks tensed. This was not what I expected to hear. Still, I tried to be patient with her. She was a virgin in many ways. "Crea is gone. We are alone now. Is there something I alone can do for you?" I said this without enthusiasm, though, since the joy had been taken out of the idea for me.

  Elizabeth is a sensitive woman and noticed my distress immediately. "Victor, my husband, forgive me. I did not mean to supplant you at all. I thought we were speaking in general and not about this specific night."

  "Well, this is our wedding night," I said rather testily.

  "I should expect you might have given it some thought."

  "Victor, don't be cross with me." She ran her hand up the inside of my thigh. "I wish more than anything for the piercing that is my right as a woman and as your wife. Something permanent. This is what I wish from you, to feel the torment and delight of being completely possessed." All the while she spoke her hand worked magic on my cock through the fabric of my trousers, and my mood lifted. I pulled her to me and covered her lips with mine. My tongue slid into her warm mouth, tasting her in a manner that told her she belonged to me. Her body relaxed and I felt Elizabeth giving herself over. Would that I could have impaled her then and there!

  We rode through the mountains at twilight. Elsewhere it was summer, but here it was always winter. All the better, for we could cosy up by the fire tonight. And I had a special surprise for my bride that no doubt would please her.

  We arrived after dark in a village at the foot of Montanvent. It was a peaceful, quiet place, small, unpretentious, a population of no more than two dozen, as far as I could tell.

  The villagers who were still up seemed taciturn and distrustful, as are many peoples who live so far from reasonably populated, civilized areas. The man, a short, braided whip dangling from his belt, wore a fur vest and boots, and a peculiar high skin cap. He spoke French, as the Swiss do, although this man had an economy of words I admired. He showed us to our alpine hut, then departed quickly.

  Now, finally, I had Elizabeth and her prized maidenhead to myself. While she waited on the sofa, I built a fire, stocking it with dry cedar logs that caught quickly and blazed high. When I had the flames high enough, I brought out a valise I had carried from home, and began unpacking the contents and lining them up along the grey stones before the hearth.

  Elizabeth watched in silence. When I'd finished my task, we uncorked a bottle of champagne and I poured some into flutes. We sipped the wine slowly as we cuddled together before the hearth. Eventually I said to her, "Undress, and lie on the rug." This she did, her face and cheeks ruddy from warmth and the excitement, her eyes brimming with love, her nipples bright red candies, inviting, her ass plump and white, for it had been spared these last weeks in anticipation of this night.

  I used a fragrant oil to massage her body, beginning with the shoulders and working down her slender back in broad strokes to her tiny waist. Beyond lay those pristine globes that belonged to me alone. I used the linseed oil liberally to coat them and worked the lubricant in from the bottom of her ass cheeks up, paying special attention to her crack. This caused her to moan, and her cunny, as I lifted those cheeks, emitted the most divine perfume.

  Once I'd squeezed and pinched those cheeks until they were pink and eager to please, I worked on the backs of her legs and feet. Finally I turned her over and massaged up from her toes. It was her Venus Mons that I spent the most time with, rubbing, kissing, licking, nibbling, until she writhed beneath me and a lovely pink blush had been sprinkled across her chest and tummy. I moved up to her breasts and spent another long time loving them. Her nipples and aureoles proved amazingly responsive; my mouth did not want to leave them. While my teeth bit and my lips sucked one tittie, my fingers pulled the other up high, twisting, pinching, rubbing, again making her squirm and moan uncontrollably beneath me.

  My cock raged. It took much argument on my part to persuade him to wait. He wanted to break her at once, but I convinced him that Elizabeth could reach great heights yet and it was our responsibility to see that she did so on this night which would be remembered always.

  I turned her again onto her belly. She moved her head so she could watch me, and her long hair cascaded around her face and down her back like spun gold.

  A full-length oval mirror on a stand stood by the door. This I brought to the hearth where Elizabeth waited and set it before her, adjusting the frame that held the glass so that she had a proper view of her gorgeous naked body.

  One of the items I'd brought from home had been a special gift, made for Elizabeth, for this night. It lay on the grey stones and I picked it up, Elizabeth watched me in the mirror. I'd had the four foot white wedding whip made-to-order in England by a well-known leathersmith, employing fine imported Spanish cowhide. This, being a specialized tool, required much practise on my part. I know my darling had not experienced a bull whip of any size before, or at least she had not told me so. This shorter-than-normal item would be a new and wondrous experience for her, an experience I intended to make perfect.

  I poured a solution into a large bowl and dipped in the white whip, tail to handle, until it was properly coated. Her eyes grew large and round and yet were fully trusting as I snapped the end of the whip into the crackling fire. Flames shot along the whip shaft. I now held a whip of fire.

  I looked into the mirror and saw Elizabeth watching me in the glass. Her mouth had dropped open and her eyes were very wide. I took up a position close to her and raised the whip above my head. With a loud crack, I snapped it across her waiting ass.

  She gasped loudly and her hips jerked into the air. The tapered leather strand left a serious red line. Of course, she was not burnt. The fire was mere theatrics. The "oil" I'd used on her body had been diluted with a fire retardant, while the tail of the whip had been coated in alcohol. The most the flame would produce was a pleasant tingling on her skin. The whiptail itself, though, was another matter.

  As the alcohol dried quickly, I was forced to redip the whip shaft frequently and relight it.

  I snapped the virgin cowhide against her ass again. She gasped loudly, and another red line a
ppeared. The lines were just short of cutting the flesh. Blood welled beneath the skin's surface. I did not wish to slice her open, merely to come as close as possible. The effects would last several weeks, which I knew Elizabeth would appreciate, for I'd discovered she liked to show off her marks as if they were precious jewels.

  I needed to work fast, though, as the fire along the whip was constantly burning itself out. And I wanted to heat her quickly and pierce her when her own fire reached its zenith.

  I lay the whip on, lashing her ass raw, using just enough pressure to raise the desired welts. She buckled and rode up to meet the leather, watching in the mirror. Her bottom soon became striped with short crimson lines, so many that they melted together. I whipped carefully to make that happen, without overlapping, which would have opened the skin. Her scent rode the warm air and her cries of "Victor, whip me, mark me, fuck me!" filled my ears.

  Finally I could restrain myself no longer. I dropped the whip onto the stones before the fireplace and positioned myself behind her. Automatically she raised herself to her knees, head down in a submissive posture that was like a kiss to my cock. Her red welted ass rose high in the air, trembling, offering its well-guarded treasure chest to the one who would master the lock. I moved against those steaming cheeks and my cockhead went to her opening like a magnet drawn to iron.

  Her bottom quivered and she pleaded, "Victor, rend me!" I felt her pussy pulsing against my cockhead, and slick him with juices in preparation for his journey into this unknown region.

  "That is exactly what I intend to do, my love," I assured her, feeling well prepared for my trip.

  My cock moved inside and she moaned. I felt the hot thick pussy juices moistening my head, and those plump nether lips puckering around me. My cock soon knocked against her locked gate for admittance into this most sacred of places.

  "Master! Fuck me!" Her words made him automatically rear back like a snake ready to strike.

  Suddenly there was another knock, this one on the door to the chalet. It was loud and insistent and would not be ignored. And then, without warning, the door was flung open. In an instant, my cock shrank.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  "Oh my God, Crea!" Elizabeth screamed in delight. She jumped up and ran to her. The two embraced.

  The blood that left my cock so rapidly rose to my head in fury. "Why are you not awaiting the train to England!" I demanded.

  A sly smile crept across Crea's face, but she said in the most innocent voice, "Master Frankenstein, a letter arrived this morning, and in all the general excitement of the day, we did not open it until you two had left."

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a tan envelope.

  It was addressed to her, with M. Krempe's return address in the corner. Suspiciously I opened it and perused the sheaves of paper within, Elizabeth reading over my shoulder. She read faster than me and exclaimed at one point, "Oh, Crea! This is wonderful."

  The letter was a congratulations to Elizabeth and I on our marriage, to be relayed through Crea, as well as the wedding gift: Crea herself.

  I sat heavily on the sofa. M. Krempe, in the goodness of his heart, had imagined this gift to be something, he said, "You both will find practical, and one which will afford many years of pleasure."

  Elizabeth danced around Crea, helping her remove her wool hat and long fur-collared coat, and getting her out of her other clothing as well. Finally we three were naked, sitting by the fire, the two of them excitedly chattering away as if I didn't exist. As if this were not my wedding night.

  I, in a morose state, drank right from the opened bottle of champagne and had consumed most of the bubbly contents before Elizabeth noticed.

  "Victor, darling, isn't this wonderful! Now I shall have my nuptial wish."

  I sighed, for I recalled instantly what she wanted. "Alright, then," I said, struggling to be congenial, "how shall we approach this."

  "Well...," she began. Then, "I've got it! We shall both be pierced by Crea's magic organs, but my cunny will admit you, Victor, and you alone."

  Mere crumbs, I thought, but said, "As you wish, my love," for after all, I did want to please Elizabeth.

  Crea lay on the soft mattress of the four poster —the floor would be too hard for the arrangement required. We bunched pillows beneath her ass, which resulted in her erections jutting up high. I climbed onto her until I straddled her crotch. The large cock was higher still because of the pillows, and I impaled myself from a kneeling position for convenience. Normally I'd been entered by Crea while I was lying or bending forward. This was the first time that giant phallus went straight up into my ass. I felt it's girth expanding my rectum, shoving the rectal walls out of the way to make room for itself. Finally, though, that enormous instrument filled me to the point where I was quite silent.

  "My turn," Elizabeth said happily. My cock was now positioned between both of Crea's. Elizabeth knelt over the two available penises. Crea positioned her foremost member, the one that was similar in size to my own, while I positioned my fellow —Crea took Elizabeth's back door, and I the front.

  Elizabeth was exited, which cheered me. Her blue eyes were round with delight, and her cheeks flushed. Indeed, I wanted this to be wonderful for her. I kissed her full, wet lips soundly, and for several minutes, using my tongue in ways that let her know to whom she belonged.

  Crea had brought to the bed from my bag of tricks the glove Miss Heidi had presented me with. While Elizabeth and I kissed, Crea slipped on the glove and ran its rough palm over Elizabeth's wounded ass.

  My girl gasped and moaned and trembled with desire. Her nipples hardened as I pinched them. Her cunny juices flowed freely, and even from the inch I had entered into her I felt her muscles tensing and pulsing. No doubt Crea must be experiencing the same as the tip of her penis pierced Elizabeth's hospitable anus.

  We continued this way for a long time. Elizabeth's moans and cries became constant. She begged and pleaded to be entered.

  I held her firmly at the waist so that she could not impale herself, which she attempted to do several times to relieve her itch. This was delicious torture to her. "I cannot stand it, Victor! I beg you, take me!" But I would not. In reply, I bit her nipple and her head fell back. Her lips released a deep moan and her cunny hole released more liquid and tightened. Her juices ran down the insides of her trembling thighs and coated my shaft and dripped into the hairs at the base of my cock.

  My cock. He turned out to be a decent fellow after all. A year ago he would have given himself over to self-indulgence. But he had won a long and hard battle and finally learned restraint. Despite the monster phallus imbedded within my ass, despite the hot cunt so open and willing to be ravished, despite the writhing and moaning and pleading from my beloved to deflower her, he did not act. Restraint such as his must be rewarded eventually.

  I gripped Elizabeth's waist tighter. Her head lay back, exposing her long, slim throat. Her eyes were closed. Tiny sounds of surrender issued from her 'o'-shaped mouth. "Look in my eyes!" I demanded.

  She lifted her head. Her eyelids parted only a little and dreamy blue orbs gazed into mine with love. "Victor!" she whispered. "I want you so."

  I slammed her down onto my shaft. Her pupils dilated and contracted. A look of complete surprise had been caught on her face.

  The tearing had been quick and complete. My fellow had done a good days work and now released all the tension he had accumulated. While he shot his hot cum into her, her moist walls squeezed him, contracting hard around him in rippling waves of pleasure.

  Elizabeth screamed in ecstasy. Crea groaning. My cock throbbing out his gift. My anus contracted around that giant planted deep in me and I was astonished to realize that cock was shooting jism inside me. In that moment I knew the other was doing the same inside Elizabeth's rectum.

  Afterward, we three lay in a heap on the blood-stained, sweat-soaked sheet. The air was thick with the scents of perspiration and sex. The fire crackled, but the flames were lower. Elizabe
th dozed in the crook of my arm, one of her hands gripping my cock, her other buried in Crea's cunt. Her titties looked plump and ripe and well sucked, and I leaned down to take one between my lips. Crea was awake, watching me.

  "You ejaculated," said simply, lying back. "When you have been commanded to refrain."

  "Yes, Master Frankenstein," she said. There was a curlish quality to her voice that put me on guard. "We suppose we should be punished," she said. "We have brought along a tool of chastisement you may wish to use to discipline us. Consider this implement our wedding present to you and Mistress Elizabeth."

  "Perhaps," I said, and closed my eyes. Punishing Crea would be enjoyable, no doubt. A long and agonizing whipping all the better. But my vengeful feelings toward her were laced with fear. If she had disobeyed the orders of her three Master, then what did this mean? Was she now thinking for herself? Making her own decisions? Decisions which could override direct commands? And now that she, Elizabeth and myself seemed linked inextricably, what would this mean to my relationship with my wife?

  These thoughts and worries tormented me the night. When I awoke it was the middle of the next afternoon and I was alone in the chalet.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The door opened as I finished washing myself. Elizabeth entered first, with Crea on her heels.

  "I've been shopping, darling," Elizabeth cried. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her eyes sparkling with life and enthusiasm. She'd bought a green cape with a rabbit-lined hood, like Crea's, that framed her pretty face.

  She removed her hands from the matching fur muff that had warmed them and handed me a small, prettily-tied package.

  "What? Another gift? Surely we must own everything there is to own already."

  She slipped off her boots and undressed as she came to the sofa before the fireplace where I was now sitting; she wore only a new red corset, which I found fetching. "Open it, Victor." She turned and motioned for Crea to join us. Her ripe nipples spilled over the top of the corset as she twisted and I found this even more alluring.