"Tell me, Ursula, if I whipped your breasts now, bloodies them, would you still love me?"
Her eyes are frightened. She has felt no pain, other than imagined. She does not know how she will feel and I know she cannot answer me. I raise the whip above my head.
"Hyde! Stop!" Meg calls.
But it is too late. The bullwhip descends. My control is complete. The cord wraps around Ursula's nipple, stinging it slightly, but not creating injury, only stimulation.
Ursula's head falls back and her lips part. She moans. Her hungry tits thrust forward. Her eyes close. I use the whip skillfully to lick her nipples, alternating, the right, the left, the right, the left, stinging them just enough to drive her to the edges of pleasure. She shifts and writhes and I know her bottom is fiercely rubbing the coarse wool, wetting it with her flowing juices. Within a dozen stings she orgasms, her cry so pure, like the first completion, the first submission, the first total giving over of control to another.
More than ever I know I will have her and Jekyll can do nothing but groan in despair, as he is this doing very moment.
Chapter FourteenI woke this morning just after sunrise, although I do not recall sleeping. All that I can remember of last evening was a sordid display of discipline enacted in the presence of ladies, including my precious Ursula, by an immense ego named Hyde.
A picture forms in my mind of Ursula, luscious breasts exposed, the nipples made into two bright cherries by the stings of the bullwhip. Her cry of fulfillment that so tortured me. I shake my head to sober myself.
Last night I despaired. Hyde was definitely in control, without the drug, and I helpless to impede him in his dark designs.
Now, in the cold light of day, I find, much to my relief, that a spontaneous change has occurred yet again. For am not I, Henry Jekyll, in charge of this body and mind, with Hyde lingering somewhere in the background and easily kept at bay.
I take this as a sign. Last night was an aberration.
The stress I've been under, the buildup of Maw's damaged powder in my system, my desperation to win Ursula's heart, all that and more apparently produced a minor relapse wherein Hyde took power.
Clearly, the fact that I have my wits about me today suggests he is receding and shall soon disappear altogether, removing a great source of grief from my life. And in fact, he is the only barrier standing between myself and the fair Ursula. Now that a new day dawns, I shall right wrongs, including a visit later in the day to Maw, where an apology is in order.
"Doctor Jekyll, Inspector and Mrs. Alan Wilcox to see you."
"Show them in," I tell Poole.
Alan and Connie enter the room slowly. I quickly see that she is in a state and hurry up the steps to help them.
"Really, Alan," she says, "there's no need for this. None whatsoever."
"And I say Henry should check you over, given the nature of your...your affliction."
"Affliction indeed!"
Connie is a tall woman, nearly matching Alan's stature. Both tower over me, although I am considered a man of greater than average height.
"Please. Both of you. Sit." I offer them chairs. "Tea? I shall order some, if you like."
"No tea, and I prefer to stand, if you don't mind," Connie says.
Alan sighs in exasperation, but he too stands.
I clear my throat. "What seems to be the trouble?"
Alan begins, "I want my wife examined by a professional..."
"I do not see the point," Constance says. "This is a waste of the good doctor's valuable time..."
"Time, Constance, is irrelevant, when a marriage is in difficulty."
"If there are conjugal problems, I am looking at the source this very minute!" she glares at him.
Obviously their ship of connubial bliss has hit rough waters. I am about to suggest a visit to the Rector, who is better trained to handle such cases than a physician, when Connie suddenly says, "Oh, alright. If it will shut you up and bring peace to the household, I shall undergo your stupid examination."
"Fine," I say, still confused. "What, exactly, is the problem, that I may know what to examine."
"Her derriere and her womanly parts," Alan says.
This does not take me by surprise. After all, I have examined more genitalia of late than in a full year. And I have a vivid memory of the previous evening and Hyde's devilish manipulation of Mrs. Wilcox's privates. I should check her over to make certain the damage is not permanent.
"If you will go behind the screen and put on this gown, Connie."
She snatches the gown from me with a withering look and strides towards the screen. While she undresses, Alan takes me aside.
"This is a serious concern," he tells me, his whisper low and frantic. "Hyde had at her last evening, while I traipsed through the city gathering clues for a case against him."
"Alan, I must apologize for my actions of last evening, when we ran into one another at Maw's. I was exhausted, which is, of course, no excuse for rudeness, and..." But he waves my remorse away.
"Hyde is diabolical. He uses and abuses both men and women, from streetwalkers to society ladies, physicians to delivery boys. All suffer the ferocious application of his favorite toy of the moment, which apparently they enjoy."
"Well, if they enjoy this so much," I say carefully, for his mood is volatile, "why then hunt him down. Apparently he is doing a service, of sorts."
"Henry, I realize the man is a friend of yours, although why I cannot understand, but have you lost your senses? We cannot let a being like him at our loved ones. And don't forget his designs on Ursula."
That reality had not left my mind for a moment.
"But the worst part is what follows," Wilcox went on, his eyes quite feverish. "Hyde whips them to a frenzy then leaves them high and dry, never to visit them again. My poor Constance is his latest victim."
Here his voice breaks. I grip his forearm. "There, Alan, control yourself old man. For Constance's sake, if for no other reason."
He clears his throat, pulls his handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his face, lingering at his eyes. He blows his nose and says, "Yes. You are quite right. Connie has fallen under Hyde's spell, but she can be saved."
"Of course she can."
A sudden fury envelops him. His eyes become dangerously, violently piercing. He looks straight at me and fear clutches my heart; for a moment I believe he sees Hyde hiding within. Suddenly he says, "I have laid a trap for him."
"A trap? What sort of trap?"
"One which will ensnare him when he least expects it. And then he shall be made to pay for his hedonistic adventures."
Alan looks possessed and I admit I am frightened by such obsession.
Suddenly Connie comes from behind the screen. "Where do you want me, Henry."
"On the table, if you please. If you would lie on your stomach, that would be most expedient."
Once she is lying down, her hips resting against the rise in the middle of the table, I open the gown at the back, only to find Hyde's handiwork. I must admit that my first reaction is one of wonder and admiration. The coloring on her buttocks is so evenly distributed it is as though she has been out in the sun and those cheeks received a severe sunburn. One spot in particular, where the ass meets the leg, is swollen and blistered. No wonder she prefers standing. I touch that spot gently with my finger and Connie jumps. Alan is right by my side in an instant.
"There! You see how he has thrashed her?"
"Alan, let me do my job, please. Now, step back. Connie, does this hurt?" I touch one of the hot blisters again, and again she jolts.
"It is a delicious wound, Henry," she sighs, "which is what I have been trying to tell my husband, who is being awfully thick-headed. But then chasing down Hyde has become more important to him than satisfying his spouse."
I hold a hand up to Alan to keep him quiet, for he is about to take the bait.
"The wounds are severe," I say, "but the skin is not broken."
"Hyde is a master," Conni
e says, her voice low and erotic. My nostrils pick up a scent coming from her which is even more erotic.
I use a spreader, a wooden bar between her tights to hold them apart, then take a wide, flat wooden spoon to press one cheek to the side so that I may see her openings. She flinches. The scent becomes stronger. Her anus is red and raw looking, as is her vaginal opening. I hesitate, knowing that an examination might produce a response in Connie that will only inflame Alan's desire for vengeance.
"Doctor Jekyll, I think it best that you examine me inside as well, else my visit here is wasted," she says sweetly.
"The most level-headed statement you've made all morning," Alan snorts.
They've back me into a corner. I use the wooden spoon and my free hand to push in opposite directions, spreading Connie's ass cheeks wider. I insert the metal speculum into her, about a knuckle's worth. As I probe the tight area, the flesh within contracts around the tool. She begins to moan. Quickly I extract the instrument, lest a worst-case scenario develop.
"Doctor, I think you should check that tunnel again, but deeper this time. I believe something is amiss and you must probe to find the source." Connie's voice holds much promise.
Suddenly Alan is looking over my shoulder.
"Yes, Henry, be thorough, for god's sake."
I sigh and spread the hot cheeks apart. Her bottom hole seems to open like a mouth, waiting to be entered. I slip my tool in again, deep this time, so that they will both know this is the last occasion.
Suddenly Connie contracts fiercely around it, holding the metal inside her. Her body jerks and buckles as she writhes.
"Constance, stop this! At once!" Alan yells.
Rather than cease, her lust increases and her thrashing escalates. She rolls her ass in a circle, lifting it high into the air. Her rectum has it clenched fast yet the speculum is not stuck. Why I permit it to remain inside her, I do not know. It is as though another hand holds mine firm.
Suddenly Alan grabs the wooden spoon from me and slaps his wife hard on the fanny. This only encourages her. Now she buckles and rides the metal, thrusting her ass against it as though to extract all the sweetness she can from this encounter.
Alan has lost control. He flails her with the flat spoon, smacking hard, the sound sharp of the hard birch paddle contacting flesh echoing through the theater. And Connie loves it. She twists and turns, rising to meet his blows, her ecstasy mounting to a pitch. Finally she flies over the edge. Her body shudders, convulsing in a wild orgasm. The fierce contraction within her expels my instrument in short order.
Alan drops the spoon onto the table and grabs his wife. He yanks her from the table to her feet. He is about to scold her harshly. But her face is completely relaxed, the lines soft, her eyes limpid pools and her jaw slack. Her arms encircle his neck and her soft body draped only in thin cotton presses into his. "My husband, I did not know you had this in you," Her voice is sultry, suggestive. "You must take me home at once and bed me."
Alan looks stunned for a moment. But then his hands slide down his wife's back where the gown has parted. I see him grip her bottom and squeeze hard, turning her back towards a state of desire. Her head falls onto his shoulder and her breasts press hard against him.
Now Alan looks like a man who has suddenly come to an epiphany of understanding regarding some eternal truth. When he sends Connie in to dress, I see by the bulge in his trousers that this truth has taken physical as well as mental and emotion form.
He turns to me with a look of total enlightenment filling his face. "Henry!" he says, clasping my shoulders in excitement, "how can I thank you enough. You have set Constance and I back on course."
"I have?" I ask astonished.
"Indeed, man. It was your skilful medical knowledge, knowing just when and how to penetrate her for diagnostic purposes, and combining your psychological skills to inspire me to respond to her deep need."
I can only stare at him in confusion while he babbles on.
Connie returns, fully clothed. She kisses me quickly on the cheek, looking flushed as a girl with her beau. Wilcox clasps my arm and says, "Your invoice, Henry. Charge for two consultations."
"It's in the post," I say, unable to say much else.
As they near the top of the stairs, I call out, "Alan! Does this mean your pursuit of Hyde will cease?"
"Certainly not," he says, clasping his wife tightly as she presses her bottom against his leg. "Connie is saved, because she has me, and good friends like you. But the others, like Lanyon... The line of Hyde's victims stretches from Highgate to Soho. He must be stopped!"
When I am alone in my laboratory, I sit with my head in my hands, quietly listening to the clock tick. Of all the events that have just transpired, it is my own actions that I question the most. While I probed Connie Wilcox's asshole, I had no desire to exit but to enter further into her, bringing her to climax. It is a natural enough inclination, and yet I am a physician, sworn to the Hippocratic oath. My patients trust me. I must deserve their trust. And yet did not the Wilcox family leave here satisfied with my services?
I sense a dark presence within me gloating and know it is Hyde. Awareness of him fills me with consternation; only a half hour ago I'd convinced myself Hyde was history but now I am not so certain.
History, indeed! I am the future, Jekyll, and you are the past! His voice is mocking. Tormenting.
Questions fill my head for which there are no answers.
I would likely pursue them further but Poole calls down to me, "Another client, sir."
"Yes, well, send whoever away. I can see no one else today. If it's an emergency, Doctor Lanyon may be in."
"Very good sir. I shall inform Miss Lawrence at once."
"Miss Lawrence?" I jump to my feel. "Ursula? Here?
Bring her to me immediately."
Chapter Fifteen
While waiting for Poole to escort me to Jekyll's laboratory, I greet Inspector and Mrs. Wilcox on their way out of the house. My, but they appear to be in love, that's obvious. Master Hyde's attention has certainly exacted a change in both the Inspector and his wife from when I last saw each. I understand. Such feelings are new to me, but I feel the glow of a recent member of this select club of the enamoured, for that is what I am.
Poole returns and shows me to the door of the laboratory. I hurry down the steps into the theater where Henry is waiting. He looks worried, or perhaps it is just that I am worried and imagining that it is he.
He rushes to meet me and takes both my hands in his. I notice again that terrible bandage and wonder how he injured himself.
"Ursula, my darling," he says, trying to kiss me, but I turn my cheek to him. He pulls back. "What's this? So formal.
We are alone here." His voice is a bit stern, which gives me pause and makes me have second thoughts. But I must do what I came to do, regardless of what Aunt Meg says.
"Henry, please, listen to me. There is something we need to discuss immediately."
"Of course." He leads me to two chairs arranged beside a small table, café style. He pulls one chair to face the other and again picks up my hands, leaning in close to me.
His smile is sincere, his face loving. I know he adores me and yet I must break his heart. "I've decided to marry Hyde."
He jerks back, dropping my hands as if they have burned him. His eyes are haunted and his skin pales. I am alarmed and jump up, but he pulls me down to the seat again. "What's all this nonsense about, then?"
"Oh, Henry, I don't know where to begin. Last night, my Aunt Meg took me as a guest to her salon."
His eyes narrow. "Go on."
"Hyde was there, demonstrating his...his skills."
"And?"
Henry's curt replies fluster me. "And...and I feel that he is the man I wish to spend my life with. He will fulfill me."
"Why do you feel that way?"
Henry is almost clinical in his approach. But rather than calming me, this objective stance only creates an added tension inside. I had thought he m
ight show some greater emotion at the loss of the one he purports to love. "Hyde makes me feel like a woman."
"And are you no longer a virgin?"
My cheeks flush. "Is this a medical question, Doctor Jekyll?"
"It is a question which you will answer to my satisfaction. And, Miss, I've warned you before about that tone!"
His firmness effects me in a peculiar way. Suddenly I find him inordinately appealing. The darkness in those sandy eyes. The set of his jaw. The man has a look about him that brooks no frivolity. A shiver runs through my body.
"I am still 'intact', as you would say." This modest snapping on my part causes his eyes to narrow further. For some reason, this expression reminds me of Hyde which, I presume, proves that I care so very much for my masked lover.
"Then you will explain to me just how Hyde makes you feel like a woman."
I pull my hands out of his and jump to my feet. "I need explain nothing more to you, Dr. Jekyll, only that we are finished with our business before we ever begin. Now, if you will excuse me."
I turn to leave. In a movement too quick for me to remember precisely what occurred in what order, I am jerked around and yanked forward. Suddenly I am staring at the hardwood, lying helpless across Henry's lap.
"What...what are you doing?"
"Speaking to you in a more basic language, one I believe you will readily understand."
Before I can say or do anything more, I feel my skirt and crinoline being raised up and my bloomers pulled down. "Now, just a minute..." My bottom is exposed and cool air wafts across it, a delicious feeling, accentuated by the knowledge that Henry's eyes are washing over my derriere. "How dare you?..." I begin half-heartedly, but get no further.
Henry reaches to his examination table for the peculiar medical instrument he used when examining me—a large flat wooden spoon.
"Are you intending to again confirm my virginity?" I ask with hostility to my voice, adding, "I doubt my aunt will pay you a second time."
Suddenly a sharp smack lands on one side of my bottom, then another on the other cheek. The sound alone sends fear through me. The smacks from this paddle sting and it feels as though little sparks are leaping across my buttocks as he travels from side to side. The stinging blows rain down so quickly I cannot think, I cannot even catch my breath. And this is a hot rain, causing me to squirm to avoid the barbs.
The Darker Passions Page 12
