FrankenDom (18 page)

Still massaging me deeply inside and out, Julian pressed his thumb onto my throbbing
clit. “Come for your audience, beautiful little slut.”

Later I’d look back and be embarrassed by my protracted bucking and screeching, but
the force of my orgasm was staggering and it didn’t let up when Julian switched from
deep massage to thick, hard finger-fucking and relentless clit-pinching. Masculine
murmurs drew my eyes beyond my right leg, and the sight of three masked men with their
pants open, stroking their dicks while they watched me come, made my bones melt and
sent my head soaring off into space.

When Julian finally let my body come down, I sagged on the table, my eyes closed,
my mind completely empty. I was in love with the peace of it, the freedom.

To my dismay, it didn’t last. Pain seared my left nipple and I screamed harshly.

“Sorry, my love,” Colin said, lapping at the throbbing, abused flesh with his tongue.
“They always hurt more coming off.”

The wetness and warm massage felt good, and I actually enjoyed it as I laid there
whimpering. The other clamp was even worse coming off, and the follow-up care even
better. Breathing deeply, I drifted on a sea of contentment, basking in Colin’s dedicated
pampering of my breasts.

“Still in there?” he asked. When I opened my eyes, he looked at them and broke into
a huge smile. “Look at those pupils. You won’t come down for hours, little slut.”

I couldn’t find it in me to be annoyed with him. In that moment, I wanted nothing
more than to be his slut, and Julian’s.

Colin slid his hand under my head and kissed me warmly, then said, “Lift up for just
a second, Rachel.”

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.

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, he’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!”