Crea sat at Elizabeth's feet and while I examined the tiny parcel, my wife unbuttoned Crea's blouse and untied her skirt. I waited until they were through before unwrapping the gift.
Once they were both paying attention, I pulled the ribbon off the gold box and lifted the lid. Within were four gold rings, each three quarters of an inch in diameter.
"We have wedding rings," I said a bit tightly.
"Oh Victor," Elizabeth laughed, kissing my cheek. "You are such a silly. They are not for the fingers."
"What then?"
"Well, I shall show you."
From a shopping bag she carried with her, she removed a few items, some of which I recognized. When I saw the needle, her intention was clear to me: she intended to pierce someone.
"I think we should draw straws," she giggled.
"Perhaps, Mistress," Crea said, "a test of skill. The one who is superior shall be the winner."
Crea stood and picked up the wedding whip I'd used on Elizabeth's bottom last night. She plucked several sprigs of mistletoe from the vase on the table and removed the leaves, then snapped the stems so each was but a single stem with three white berries at the end.
"Oh Crea!" Elizabeth said, catching on immediately, but I was still in the dark.
"What is your plan," I asked.
"Master Victor," Crea said deferentially, for she knew she still had a good hiding coming from me. "We propose this. We shall see who is most skilled with the whip. Whoever can snap the berries off without cutting the flesh wins. We shall be the first vase, as an example."
Still, I was confused. Crea got down on her hands and knees and offered her bottom to Elizabeth, who inserted the stem of the mistletoe into her rectum, leaving only a breath between the berries and her bottom.
"I shall go first, if you don't mind," Elizabeth said.
"Be my guest," I told her.
Elizabeth took up a position a few feet away. She raised the white whip and brought it down with a flick of the wrist. The whip cut the stem and the three berries dropped to the floor one at a time in quick succession.
"Bravo!" Crea shouted.
"Well done, my dear!" I said enthusiastically, warming to this game.
Elizabeth inserted a second stem into Crea's anus. Now it was my turn. I knew I could cut the stem easily. My long practise on Elizabeth's behind honed my skill in whip arts. Still, this competition would prove nothing in the long run, and I longed to use the opportunity to express myself.
I took the position and raised the bullwhip. I brought it down with the full force my arm could muster. A crack cut through the room. The sharp tip of the whip sliced deep into Crea's ass. A cry spewed from her. The thin red line across her bottom quickly opened and blood flowed.
"Victor!" Elizabeth shouted.
"Forgive me, darling," I said. "Last night was so full, and the wine as pleasing as the woman before me, well, my hand slipped."
She accepted this, and attended to Crea's wounds.
Elizabeth was next. Her bottom could not take another whipping, and I was careful, as was Crea, to keep the sharp leather tip of the wedding whip from striking her. In fact, we were both so careful, neither of us cut the berries off.
"Oh, you two!" Elizabeth cried in mock chastisement. "You shall both need to work on your technique."
I was last. I took the position and Crea jammed the flower's stem into my bottom hole a bit harshly, I thought. The thin hard stem felt foreign, and stimulating in a way that a thicker object would not. Frankly, my anal opening began to itch unbearably. I felt rather exposed and found myself thrusting out my ass in an exhibitionist manner, perhaps as an overcompensation.
Elizabeth was first up. She snapped the berries off readily enough. The whip whizzed by my behind and just brushed the skin. I felt a peculiar braised sensation.
"Oh, damn!" she said. I'd never before heard a curse on her lips. "Well, that's one mark against me. And I was in the lead! Your turn, Crea."
I braced myself, knowing that what occurred now would determine what was to come in the future between us. For if Crea cut the berries only, or missed completely, I still held the reigns. But if she carved my flesh as I had sliced into hers, between us there would be war.
I waited, willing my bottom to be still. My cock, bless him, stood erect, prepared for whatever would come. Crea took her time, increasing my tension. Finally I looked over my shoulder. Apparently she had simply been waiting for just this moment. Her mismatched eyes caught mine and that twisted smile crept over her full lips. She raised the weapon.
I heard the sound first. The air parted as the whip divided it. The second the leather made contact, my cheeks jolted. My cock shot his wad. For a blessed moment, my ass numbed. Then, suddenly, pain flared, not simply a line of it, but pain that streaked and spread all through my bottom, setting it on afire.
The agony was so intense I was not certain I could bear it. Through will alone, only one long, low sob escaped my lips, but tears blinded me, and my body quaked.
Around me I heard Elizabeth castigating Crea in the same manner she had me, then felt her pressing a cooling wet cloth to my open wound. This would scar. Forever I would bear the mark of my creation turning on her creator and mastering him.
When I recovered sufficiently to again be aware that there were others in the room, we three sat on pillows on the floor —for all three bottoms were inflamed —staring at one another, more like glaring between Crea and myself. Elizabeth's supplies between us. Slowly she explained the procedure.
"As I've won," she said gaily, "I shall go first. Victor, I choose you to pierce me."
"I would be honored," I said.
She handed over the supplies. I bathed her left, the designated nipple —"It's closest to the heart," she said —with alcohol, which acted as both an astringent and a mild disinfectant. The areola puffed around the tit like a round pink pillow, swollen from a night of being suckled. The tit itself sat red and perky, as if it had a will of its own and sought attention. I could not resist tweaking it.
I heated the large needle in the fire's flame until it was red hot, then allowed it to cool a bit by dipping it in the alcohol. The fire burnt off impurities and inhibited infection. Another swab of that saucy tit with alcohol and I was ready to go.
"Hold her," I instructed Crea, who moved behind Elizabeth.
She lifted my darling up and impaled her on both cocks, one in the anus, one in the vagina, then she secured Elizabeth's arms behind her back, and wrapped her legs around hers so that my most cherished one was nearly immobile.
I held Elizabeth's breast, pressing it back into her chest to keep it from giggling. The nipple lay completely exposed and vulnerable. Her face filled with fearful longing. "Pierce me, Victor," she whispered. "Let me feel you claim ownership."
I wasted no more time.
I pushed the needle from left to right slowly through her tit. Her body began to tremble. She panted and her lips parted to enable her to sob. A delicious aroma filled my nostrils. As I slid the sharp metal through, tears rolled down her cheeks, but her face lit with the most beatific smile. As the tip exited on the right side of the nipple, it brought a drop of blood with it. I bent my head and licked it off with my tongue. The side of my tongue brushed the side of that trembling nipple, offering it comfort for the pain it had so willingly subjected itself to at my hands.
I bathed the nipple again with alcohol. This time, because of the open wound. The clear liquid stung. Only Crea's strength held Elizabeth to the floor. My darling sucked air in between her clenched teeth, and tears flowed freely from her eyes. But when she gazed at me, I saw only love.
My hand reached down to her soft pussy and was instantly rewarded with a wash of fluids. Because of Crea's front cock, I had no access to Elizabeth's cunt. Still, I rubbed and pinched her clitty, making her hips writhe and buckle, with the restraints of Crea's firm embrace. In seconds Elizabeth came, joyously, orgasmically.
While she floated back down to earth, he
r energy temporarily spent, I removed the needle by pulling it all the way through her tit. The wound bled and I applied more alcohol, causing another round of cries and jerking.
Finally I picked up one of the small gold rings and opened it. The hoop had a slender inner hoop, which I slid into the newly formed hole in Elizabeth's nipple. Once I'd secured the gold ring to itself, it hung from that bright red tit as though it wished to show itself to the world.
Elizabeth sighed and stared down at her new adornment.
"Oh, Victor," she cried. "You are so good to me."
I lifted her off Crea's cocks and plunged her onto my own, which had waited more than patiently. I took her quickly and roughly, lying her back against the floor, thrusting the full length of my shaft into her again and again until I was satisfied. She gazed up at me, her eyes dreamy. "You are so masterful," she sighed.
It was time for another piercing. I held Crea while Elizabeth repeated what I had done to her. There were differences, of course. Crea's nipple did not bleed, and, perhaps from so many needles sewing her flesh together, she did not react to the pain as violently as Elizabeth had. I had staked her rectum with my cock, holding her from behind, although there was little need. While the metal pin rested in her left tit, opening the wound wider, Elizabeth used her mouth on those two cocks.
I could see her dilemma at once: which one to begin with, and how to appease both. She began with the one closest to Crea's stomach, figuring, no doubt, that the one in front would receive some stimulation at the same time. She used her hand on the second one as she ran her lips up and down the larger.
Crea's capacity to orgasm outlasted both Elizabeth's and mine. My poor darling sucked and licked and even nibbled for an hour before that giant cock gave up its contents. In fact, both cocks shot at once. I felt Crea's rectum spasm simultaneously and made a note: again, another area forbidden to climax had reached that state, against all orders. I wondered if her vagina had orgasmed as well, and decided to find out.
Before Elizabeth could stop me, I pushed Crea onto her hands and knees and entered her cunt from behind. It was slippery and warm, hugging me at once. I thrust into her fiercely, as I had with Elizabeth, and soon those rough folds grabbed my shaft. I stroked them hard until they gave way to my superior intent. Her contractions were strong, the orgasm powerful. I let fly into her and she kept spasming until my poor cock was deflated and shoved out of her hole.
Well, this was strange indeed. I made a mental note to write to M. Krempe that day and let him know how things had developed. Crea held no inhibitions at all now.
Elizabeth removed the pin and slid the gold hoop through Crea's tit, where it dangled in imitation of Elizabeth's.
There was one final piercing to be accomplished, and I dreaded it. My own capacity for pain was not great, at least with respect to what Elizabeth and Crea could endure.
It was Elizabeth who moved behind me. Panic welled within me. "My love, I would prefer if it was your hand that pierced me."
"But, Victor, then Crea would be left out. I shall be here," she patted my penis. "Don't worry. It will be over soon, and then you shall have a wonderful piece of jewelry all your own."
I struggled to keep my muscles from trembling, but was not very successful. Elizabeth held my arms behind me, but I knew that would do little. "You'd best tie me up," I told her.
She used a rough hemp to bind me to a leg of one of the heavy oak posts in the room, wrapping the rope around me several times until I was quite secure.
Crea swabbed my left nipple, and the delight on her face at the prospect of inflicting more pain on me was humiliating. I felt ashamed before her, unable to keep the fear out of my eyes, and the quivering from my lips. My cock quivered as badly, the skin stretched taut, the blue veins pressing hard against the skin, the head red in fear and anticipation.
I watched Crea heat the needle to a white heat. Elizabeth, the darling, sucked my cock and fondled my balls, but I was hardly distracted.
Crea only permitted the needle to cool to a yellowish red.
Even the tip of it touching my terrified nipple sent me into spasm and I screamed uncontrollably.
I felt utterly ashamed. I did not mind Elizabeth seeing my weakness, but I loathed the fact that Crea gloated in my failings.
She slid the needle in unnecessarily slowly, it seemed to me. I could not contain myself. I screamed and cried like a baby. My muscles spasmed from the tension. My cock shot into Elizabeth mouth, and she swallowed my juices eagerly. No sooner had she licked the overflow from my member, than he was firm again.
When the needle was finally through my nipple, I lay back with my head back against the post sobbing. My body was covered with sweat and shook uncontrollably. The tit itself felt swollen to five times its size. The needle burned mercilessly, and the new opening throbbed in pain. I could do nothing but suffer this, my only relief my darling's lips comforting my cock.
I felt the ropes untied and my body lifted onto that Amazon cock. It plundered my rectum, piercing it slowly and unforgivingly, as had the needle with my tit. All the while Elizabeth's remarkable mouth worked over my shaft —the fact that I had just orgasmed four times into her mouth did not impress her, it seemed.
Crea forced me forward, onto my hands and knees, into the most submissive position. She pushed my forehead to the floor, the delicious position Elizabeth had assumed before we were interrupted last night. Elizabeth crawled under my stomach so that she could continue sucking my cock and fondling my aching balls. And that amazing cock nearly ruptured me.
They fucked and sucked me until I forgot about the needle mutilating my tit and could only feel my ass primed and my cock pumped over and over. I lived in that area of my body, riding the surf they provided, until the sea became a tidal wave that washed over me and I sank beneath the heavy waters.
When finally I washed to the surface, I was still impaled mightily, but my mind was freer.
Finally Crea eased her cock out of me and Elizabeth's mouth released me. I lay on my back while they removed the pin and bathed my nipple with the impossibly stinging alcohol. Then Crea inserted the third gold ring. It lay cool against my breast, although the nipple was too sore to feel more than a burning heat.
"There is one ring left," I gasped in pain, one of those nonsense observations that comes at inappropriate moments when the mind is fatigued.
"Darling," Elizabeth said, "they sell them in pairs."
We three slept before the fire, the warm glow flickering off our gold ornaments, the crackle of the resin in the logs lulling.
As I drifted off to sleep, my eyes opened briefly and I saw Crea watching me. "Master Victor, you have promised us a sound thrashing. When may we expect our just desserts?"
"Your punishment has been cancelled. Your flesh is saved from my wrath. I shall punish you no more."
Chapter Thirty-Four
I awoke to sobbing. Elizabeth perched on the bed alone, a frail bird. Crea was not in the Chalet.
I roused myself and wrapped my arms about her from behind. "What is it, dearest?"
She lifted her tear-stained face to me. Never have I seen such a forlorn look on a human being. Her blue eyes spoke of fathomless seas, and drowning therein. "Oh, Victor!" she cried, and threw her arms around my neck. "I am wretched!"
I held her close, her body warm, in need of comfort and caresses, while she sobbed her heart out. Eventually I took hold of her shoulders and turned her a little. "What's all this, now? You behave as if your love has deserted you, and yet am I not here? What could be the source of such tragedy?"
"Love has deserted me," she cried, "or at least one of them. Here!"
She thrust a letter at me that she'd been clutching. I smoothed out the grey stationery. It was a note from Crea. The gist of her missive was that she could no longer bear my animosity. She was leaving. "Forever!" she declared. She would miss both of us. Unbearably. She expected her life would be filled with pain and loneliness but that would be her cross to bear,
for she could no longer tolerate my rejection. We were not to look for her.
I admit it, I was overjoyed. At last we were rid of Crea, the inhuman monstrosity. And while it was true that Elizabeth was inconsolable at the moment, she would change her tune once she'd adapted to the situation. I knew I could more than satisfy my wife's passions without relying on artificial means. In time she would get over Crea who was, after all, a created being.
But that day Elizabeth took to her bed, and refused to leave it. Whenever I approached her, she rebuffed me. I tried simple and comforting caresses, I also offered her a paddling, which, much to my amazement, she refused. That alerted me at once to the fact that she was genuinely grieving for Crea, and the situation was serious.
Days and nights passed with no improvement. I tried to be supportive of her, but had to admit to myself that my heart was not in my efforts. Good riddance, I thought, when thinking about Crea. If only Elizabeth would forget my creation, life would be good. We were young, and in love. Everything lay ahead of us.
We had been at the chalet one week. Crea had not returned. Elizabeth was not improving. She had roused herself on several occasion, but only to search everywhere in the village for Crea, interrogating all the locals, trying to find Crea's tracks in the snow, even. A moratorium had been placed on all our loveplay. I felt more than frustrated. And when Elizabeth garnered some enthusiasm and made her suggestion, I admit, out of sheer frustration, I reacted badly.
"Victor, I have a plan. I propose we search for Crea. The only home she knows is the one where she was born, in England, and I suspect she has returned there, to your professor's house, no doubt."
"Then let her, Elizabeth, if that is where she wishes to be."
"She does not wish to be there. She is simply hurt, prickled by your rejection."
"Oh, Elizabeth, can't you see this for what it is? Only a game. She is trying to drive a wedge between us."
Darker Passions: Frankenstein Page 19