Love Bound (2 page)

His hands found her skirt and he
slowly lifted it, sliding the smooth fabric up over her legs in the darkness of
the cab. Her lower legs came into view, slim and shapely in their white silk
stockings. April held her breath but she gave a soft mewl of anguish as he
touched her. Her legs trembled under his fingers.

“Put your arms around my neck and hold
on, my dear. I have to touch you.”

She paused uncertainly for just a
moment, then turned partway in her seat and put her arms tentatively around his
neck, and she had little time to protest or object before the Doctor boldly
slid his hand up under her skirt and made contact with the hot, moist juncture
between her legs.

“Oh God!” April sobbed, shoving her
body against him and pulling him tight.

The Doctor bit back a wicked smile as
he found the fleshy mounds of her engorged labia pressing against her silken
knickers and ran his knuckles along her feverish crease, feeling her girlish
softness. April’s hips instinctively thrust against him as if with a mind of
their own, seeking more pressure and harder contact. She held him tight, buried
her face against his neck and sobbed.

“There, there,” he soothed. “It’s all
right. That’s normal. It’s perfectly normal.”

“Oh God! Oh, it feels so good! Doctor,
that feels so insanely good. What’s happening to me? Oh Doctor!”

The girl was already pre-orgasmic. He
could feel her pussy spasming against his fingers as if reaching for him. He
realized that if he weren't careful, she would come right there in the coach,
alarming the driver and creating who knows what kind of scandal.

He stopped stroking her and pressed
his hand hard against her throbbing mound, and she responded by gripping his
hand tightly between her thighs, trapping him in the humid valley of her sex.
She clung to him with every ounce of strength in her young body, trembling with
the strain, her lush breasts crushed against him as she teetered on the edge of
total release.

“That thing you feel is your orgasm,
Miss Carnovan, and you must fight it,” he whispered to her. “I know you want
to, but not yet. Not till we’re inside. Fight it, Miss Carnovan. Hold on.”

She gasped and nodded her head, then
turned her face to him and looked into his eyes with such helplessness and
desperate anguish that his cock lurched wickedly in his pants. He lowered his
face to hers and she closed her eyes and presented her mouth to his kiss, and
all the while her pussy shivered against his touch. His lips came down on hers
and she moaned deeply and shivered in delicious response. Instinctively she
opened her mouth, inviting him to come inside and do as he would.

His passion rose, and April
surrendered totally to his kiss, sucking his tongue into her mouth with an
innocent hunger that made his blood boil. Her entire body vibrated against him
with a feverish urgency, like a plucked violin string, and he kept his hand
pressed hard against her cunt as if the pressure of his hand was the only thing
keeping her orgasm locked inside her body.

“Whoa!” the driver called and the
carriage rocked to a stop.

The Doctor removed his mouth from hers
and Miss Carnovan sank back into the leather cushions, her legs twitching.

“We’re here,” he said as he glanced
out at the tall, dark brick townhouse, now wreathed in fog. “And not a moment
too soon. Can you walk?”

April let go of him and sat up, suddenly
self-conscious but still trembling with need. She brushed a lock of her golden
hair out of her face and said, “Yes. I think so. As long as it isn’t far. Oh
Doctor, I feel so weak!”

“It isn’t far,” he said.

He helped her out of the coach and
handed some bills to the driver. It was far more than the trip was worth and
the driver was still tipping his hat and thanking him effusively as the Doctor
put his arm around the shaking girl and led her in through the iron gate. There
was a small garden in front, and a brass plaque that bore the inscription “The
Mabeuse Institute”.

He unlocked the massive front door and
led her in through the foyer. April hardly noticed her surroundings as she
leaned heavily against him. Thick carpets and rich draperies, art on the walls,
the ticking of a grandfather clock. He guided her into a richly furnished front
parlor and sat her down on a tufted sofa.

“You’re faint,” he said, feeling her
cheek with the back of his hand. Her skin was hot and flushed. “Loosen your
clothes and try to relax. I’ll fetch you something to drink.”

“Please, Doctor,” she said, seizing
hold of his hand. “I know what it is I need now. Please…”

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said
firmly. “But trust me, it’s not that simple, Miss Carnovan. Now breathe deeply
and try to relax. I’ll fetch you some sherry.”

His own hands were shaking when he
went to the sideboard and lifted the stopper from the decanter. Never in his
career had he seen a woman reach such a state of such extreme sexual arousal so
quickly before, and it affected him deeply. This young lady might be just the
one he was looking for: the perfect subject for his research.

He half-filled a small glass with
sherry, then blocked her view with his body as he took a packet of white powder
from a silver box and sprinkled it into her drink. He filled her glass and
poured one for himself, then swirled her glass as the powder dissolved. A mild
hypnotic and sexual stimulant. It might be cruel, but he had to know.

“Doctor, I must apologize. My behavior
in the coach…”

“Not a word about it, my dear. All
perfectly natural. Your drink, my dear. Now drink it down. All of it. It
fortifies the blood.”

She raised the ruby liquid to her lips
and sipped, then sipped again. The Doctor watched as she drained the tiny glass,
then he tossed off his own drink. He glanced at the clock to note the time.

“I’ve been perfectly awful,” she said.
“This is so embarrassing.”

“Nonsense,” he said, taking the glass
from her fingers. “It’s a good thing you came to me when you did. Yours is a
very serious case. Another few days, and who knows what might have happened.”

“What you must think of me!” she said.
“And I assure you I’m not like that at all. I’ve never even kissed a man, not
before tonight. I’m still a virgin.”

He smiled at her. “I know you are, my
dear. And therein lies your problem.”

Her eyes widened and she looked at
him.

“Then that means the cure must be…”
She colored furiously, but he noticed with satisfaction that she didn’t
outright reject what she was about to say.

“That is one way,” he said. “But with
the average male’s total lack of understanding of a woman’s needs, that might
avail you nothing. Unless it were with the right man.”

April kept her eyes down and the
Doctor felt his excitement growing again.

“There are other ways,” he said
softly. “Ways I’ve developed here at the institute.”

She looked at him eagerly. “Yes? There
are?”

“Stand up,” he said.

April was unable to take her eyes from
him. She swallowed heavily.

“Come here, Miss Carnovan.”

She stood. When she walked across the
room towards him it was as if she were gliding, pulled towards him on invisible
strings.

She went to him and he opened her arms
to her, and with the softest of sighs she fell into his embrace.

“Doctor, please…” she began, but his
lips came down on hers again, silencing her words.

He kissed her and she didn’t resist.
Again he felt the feverish heat build up in her body. She melted against him,
her body molding to his, and the feel of her need and her soft vulnerability
made his cock brutally hard. He had no compunction about thrusting himself
against her firm thigh, letting her feel his own need for her, and he smiled
inwardly as he heard her groan submissively deep in her throat, her body
responding to the exciting pressure of his member against her. He slid his
hands down to her tiny waist and held her against him as they kissed and he
feasted on her mouth. The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the
clock, the rustle of her dress under his hands, and the soft, pleading mewls of
entreaty that issued from her throat.

When he let her go she was panting,
and her voice shook as she said, “Whatever you want, Doctor. Whatever you say
to do, I’ll do. Help me, please. I’m on fire.”

“Come with me.”

He led her from the room and down a
corridor to large locked door near the pantry. He unlocked the door with a key
from his ring, lit the kerosene lantern that stood nearby, and, taking the
lantern in one hand and her wrist in the other, led her through the door and
down the ancient stone steps to the basement below.

“My laboratory,” he explained. “Where
I do all my research. In cases like yours, there’s only one effective
treatment. It is difficult, and you must obey me implicitly, but it is the only
thing that is sure to work.”

He led her through the basement, past
rooms that contained scientific instruments and chemist’s glassware. She caught
sight of books and strange things in glass jars, a skeleton, bunches of dried
plants hanging from the beams in the ceilings; strange charts and occult
diagrams on the walls. Apparently, research into the female orgasm was a
recondite and complex undertaking.

He stopped by another door and had her
hold the lantern high in her trembling hand as he undid the double locks. He
opened the door, took the light, and led her inside.

The room was large, windowless, and
paneled in dark wood with a Persian carpet on the floor. The Doctor lit the gas
lamps on the wall and April looked around in disbelief.

She had never seen furniture like this
before: there was a bed with a metal frame that she recognized well enough, but
also a straight-backed, very heavy chair with straps attached to the arms and
legs; a sort of pillory padded in black leather; frames and stools upholstered
in leather and set with chains and silver eye-bolts whose use she could only
wonder at. There were candelabra set about the place, and tables bearing
lengths of rope and chain and other hardware, clips and pulleys and small
clamps. He led her to a wall and her eyes widened to see manacles affixed to
the paneling on short, stout, chains.

“Doctor! My God! What is this? It
looks like a medieval torture chamber.”

He stopped and caught her with his
eyes, intense now. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes, of course. But…”

“Then give me your hand.”

With a sharp click he closed the
manacle on her wrist, pinioning her hand to the wall at shoulder level. Then he
did the other.

He stood back and looked at her with a
critical eye, then took off his coat and threw it over a chair and took a
moment to run his fingers through his thick hair. April saw his broad
shoulders, his powerful chest beneath his white cotton shirt. His eyes gleamed
with a hunger that combined with her total helplessness to bring her emotions
to a sudden, seething boil.

“In all my years of work, I’ve never
met anyone like you, April,” he said. “I have seen women in every type of
sexual distress, but never anyone with your level of complete, consuming
arousal. Are you aware of that? Are you aware of how special that is?”

April couldn’t speak. A warm lethargy
seemed to be taking possession of her limbs. She knew what she needed now: the
feel of his hand on her sex, the pressure of his body against hers holding her
tight, and yet that was not all she felt. The manacles on her wrists were like
a lover’s hands, holding her against her will, exposing her body to whatever
depredations he might wish to inflict on her, and suddenly she found a part of
her mind wishing for the most cruel and delicious tortures to be applied to
her. Just what, she didn’t know, but she ached to feel some wild and violent
sensation, some physical version of what she saw in his eyes.

He turned and walked to a massive
wooden armoire, which he opened wide. Inside April could just glimpse various
things hanging within: implements of leather and chromed steel, black and
silver gleaming in the glow of the subdued gaslight. The Doctor selected a
black riding crop, thin and wicked, and laid it on the table, and April felt a
sudden thrill of delicious fear in the pit of her stomach.

“I could have made you come in the
carriage,” He closed the doors and picked up the crop, hefting it in his hands.

“‘Come,’” he said. “Are you familiar
with that word? It means to orgasm. And that’s what you need so desperately, my
dear: to come. And yet with a girl of such ardent temperament as yourself, I’m
afraid such relief would have been minor and very short-lived. The roots of
your sexual need go deep, very deep indeed, and to satisfy them, we must coax
them to the surface. We must bring out the sexual animal that lives inside you,
Miss Carnovan, bring her out into the light and force her into bloom like a
rare and exotic orchid, that we may pluck it at its very moment of ripeness. Do
you understand?”

The girl’s eyes were wide and staring,
her lips parted and to dry for speech. Her breasts heaved with her deep but
steady breathing, pressing against a bodice that seemed suddenly much too tight
and confining.