My words sounded foolish in one way, yet quite desperate in another. The two men tried to calm me, to reassure me. The professor suggested a session with the clock-machine, but I knew there was nothing to be done to ease my mind but to hurry home and marry Elizabeth immediately, before it was too late. Then Crea would be returned to M. Krempe and his experiments might continue safely away from Elizabeth. My darling and I would be on our honeymoon, where I could give her the attention she deserved. And in truth I was, at that moment, so angry I felt I was more than up to the task of making blood flow from more than her shattered hymen.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The sun was setting behind the Frankenstein estate as my coach approached the gates. Candles and lamps had been lit and the first floor of the house was aglow. It looked like a house of cheer. Roiled by the twisted emotions within me, my body felt imprisoned by tension; I felt like an enraged beast, ready to devour any in my path. I was not suited to enter such a normal environment.
As I disembarked the carriage, Elizabeth, who had heard the horses hooves and looked out the window, rushed through the door she had thrown open to greet me. Indeed, this response startled me somewhat. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me shamelessly on the mouth.
"Oh Victor! You've come home early! Oh, my love, how I've missed you!"
Her face was flushed, her eyes bright and shining. She had never looked more lovely. I held her to me, feeling her sensuous body moving into the grooves in mine so that we fit like two halves making a whole. My member had already hardened and her crotch seemed to press against him. Her eager nipples dug into my chest. Her body seemed alive, vibrating with eroticism. "I shall plo your fields this night," I assured her, pinching her nipple until she took in air between her clenched teeth.
Her lips parted and her eyes shone, as if she would like nothing better. This energizing scene shifted dramatically, suddenly, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed movement.
I looked up to find Crea waiting in the doorway.
Elizabeth turned her head. "Oh, Crea. Look! Victor is home. Come, say hello to him."
Crea stepped down from the door. Her tall, graceful form moved over the lawn and when she reached me she stopped and said, "Welcome home, Master Frankenstein."
"No, Crea," Elizabeth told her. "You must call him Victor now."
"In public," I clarified, a dangerous undertone to my voice. "In private I am still your master and you will still do my bidding."
"Yes, Master Frankenstein."
"Oh, Victor, come inside," Elizabeth said, drawing me towards the door. "Your parents will want to see you before they retire. It is late. They will be in bed soon. Then we three can play in the attic to our heart's content."
As we walked up the steps, I thought, 'we three'? Obviously she intended to include Crea in our loveplay. Well, I would see about that!
My parents and brother were glad to see me, as always. We sat round the fire eating sugar cake, and chilled mint tea. I told them of my studies, of how M. Krempe and I, with the help of Henry Cherval, had worked on an experiment that would assure our fame and fortune, which please my mother greatly, and brought out from my father a gruff, "Well, you are a Frankenstein." My brother wanted to know the nature of our experiment.
"It is of a delicate nature, having to do with the essence of existence itself. We have achieved our goal, to a point. Our notes have been sorted and catalogued, and M. Krempe is already working on our research paper even as we speak."
"You've been successful, then?" my brother asked.
Crea caught my eye.
"Indeed," I said, an edge to my voice, "although there are a few minor flaws which shall be corrected in short order."
I told them that as my work had been finished ahead of schedule, I was home early and hoped that Elizabeth and I could marry sooner.
"What?" my mother demanded. "But that's not possible, Victor, as you well know. It is just not done. The invitations have been sent out, the date all arranged. Surely three more weeks will not make much difference."
"You'll be together a lifetime," my father said. "What's the rush? You must please your mother in this."
"Elizabeth, talk some sense into our son," mother said. It was clear they would not budge.
I had expected resistance from Elizabeth. "Herr and Frau Frankenstein, you have been more than good to me," she began in a passionate voice. "I would not for the world wish to wound either of you. And yet I find myself siding with my husband-to-be. Would that we could marry this night!"
The room filled with silence. Mother looked affronted. Father made an annoyed sound and cut himself a second slice of cake, mumbling something about in his day brides and grooms would get cold feet and wish to delay the ceremony, but he had never run across either who longed to hasten it. My brother, of course, only laughed.
Tension hung in the air. Suddenly Crea spoke up. "Well, isn't it natural for young people to want to be together. Of course, being apart for this past year has taken a toll on you both. Still, Frau Frankenstein is correct in this matter —propriety demands that you wait."
I was speechless. "I think this is not your business!" I said rather loudly.
"Victor!" Mother said in a shocked voice.
"Darling!" Elizabeth clutched my arm. "Please. Calm yourself. Of course they are correct. Much as we long to be together, we owe it to your parents and our friends to do the proper thing."
I stood. "If you'll all excuse me," I said. Then, "Elizabeth, I wish to speak with you in private. It is urgent.
Come, we will walk down to the gazebo."
"Of course, darling," she said, standing immediately.
Crea looked angry, but there was nothing she could do, under the circumstances.
Elizabeth and I took the path to the gazebo at a fast clip, or rather, I did and she struggled to keep up as I pulled her by the upper arm. Once we reached the screened-in porch, I climbed the steps with her on my heels and stopped.
She came right up to me, her arms encircling my waist. "Victor. Darling." She stared up into my face, hers a mask of confusion and pain. "What is it? You've acted strangely since your arrival. Is there something you're not telling me?"
"Elizabeth," I said, drawing her tightly to me. "If you love me at all you'll run away with me tonight, just the two of us."
She pulled back. Her face was a mask of horror. "Run away? From what? Victor, what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about marriage. We can leave this night and cross the Alps, where we can marry on the morrow."
"What?" Now she broke away completely, as if a madman had gripped her and she was fearful for her life.
"Let us cross the mountains, marry in a chapel and honeymoon in a spot where none can find us and tamper with our happiness. Oh, Elizabeth," I cried, grasping her hand. "Pack your bags!"
"Victor, you can't be serious. Inside, when you suggested we marry sooner, well, of course I was all for it. But not to run off, to elope and leave everyone high and dry."
"Everyone! And who might that be?" I demanded.
"Why, your parents, of course. The wedding party. Our friends."
"Friends? For example?"
"Well, Henry, for one. And Gilles, who is coming here expressly to function in the capacity of groom —regarding the horses, of course. This was to be a surprise for you, Victor, which you've forced out of me with your peculiar behavior."
"Henry, Gilles and who else?"
She was silent for a moment. "Miss Heidi. Crea..."
"Aha!"
"What are you getting at?"
"Crea! She who is in your thoughts night and day, who fills and fulfils you —"
"Victor, stop this nonsense. If I didn't know better, I would think you were jealous."
"She who no doubt by now has stolen what is rightfully mine, like a thief in the night. A thief invited by me, to desecrate my own possession!"
"Oh no! This I will not stand. You are acting foolish and childish an
d..." She was so angry and frustrated with me that she stamped her foot. "Stop it, this instant. Crea is nothing but a creation, yes of your invention, but closer to being a machine than to being human, which is what makes her so valuable. She can preform in more ways than any single man or woman, and her abilities are almost limitless, not to mention her energy, which seems boundless. Isn't this why you sent her to me? To entertain me while waiting for your return?"
Her sane words had a calming effect on me. I felt my shoulders relax a bit. "Then you don't love her?"
"Of course I love her. Why shouldn't I? But I'm not marrying Crea, I'm marrying you. Crea has delighted me and challenged me and taken me closer to my limits than anyone before. And for that I am grateful. Grateful to you, Victor.
You designed her. It is your hand controlling her every move.
I know that all she knows is the sum of your own knowledge and I shall soon be the beneficiary of that from a human hand."
I was beginning to see that my vision had been distorted.
I sat on one of the gazebo chairs and my head fell into my hands.
"You poor darling," Elizabeth said, falling to her knees before me, taking my hands in hers, kissing my cheek. "You've been under a strain lately. Overwork is all. Your experiments must have taken up all your time and energy, with no real way to release the tension you have been storing."
I allowed my head to fall forward and her small hands to run through my hair.
"I think, though, I know what you've been missing, and I promise that you shall be restored fully before the wedding," she said.
I looked into her blue eyes, feeling forlorn. I saw there only love, and longing, and knew then that I'd given way to madness. "Oh, Elizabeth, can you forgive my display?"
"Of course I can. And so can your parents. Come. Let us go back and reassure everyone. And when they have drifted off to their rooms, we shall meet in the attic and I'll see what I can do about relieving your stress."
"Alright," I said, kissing her warm, soft lips. Suddenly I felt tense again. "But just the two of us. Not Crea."
"Just the two of us, my love. In the attic."
Chapter Thirty
A strangled cry came from between my teeth, clenched around a wad of fabric stuffed in my mouth.
The leather cane whacked across my shoulders again, first one, then the other, repeating what had been going on. The skin stung, the muscles beneath ached, and twitched from the strain. My arms felt heavy, stretching straight out as they were to the sides. Elizabeth had ordered me to stand that way, and with my legs spread, balancing on my toes, and to take the cane.
She whacked me across my ass hard six times, along the top of my cheeks, the same spot where she had been striking for the past hour.
My body was coated with sweat. My cock stood straight up.
The skin at the sides of my cockhead had been caught in a type of painful metal clip, one on each side, to which leather cords had been attached. The cords were nailed to a beam in the ceiling, as were the two ends of another cord that had been wrapped around my balls tightly. This pulled my cock and balls up high. The effect was an agony that kept me from ejaculating. But I found it oddly stimulating at the same time. It was an interesting balance of voluntary and compulsive submission.
She cracked the cane across the top of my ass another seven times. More tears leaked from my eyes. My, but she had learned a few tricks! I wondered if it had been Crea who developed this system of torture or if Elizabeth had come up with it on her own.
Those thoughts gave way as new bursts of pain exploded through my shoulders. Seven strikes on each. The worst part was hearing that damned cane sing through the air before it made me sing.
The cane returned to my ass, that same sorry spot, now thrashed another eight times. The skin must be raw, ready to peel off, surely blistering. Eight to each shoulder. I had to admit, despite the agony, I felt that the tension I had walked in the door with had been transformed into another type of tension, one more to my liking.
I hung by my heavy, full cock and balls, screaming into the gag, feeling the complaints of my cramping muscles, the searing pain of the cane as it struck again and again, increasing by one strike each time, those same pitiful spots.
Each whack felt like a searing iron, and yet this was just leather. I'd not had a hiding like this, so focused on one spot; the closest had been M. Krempe's clock-machine, but then I'd been lying comfortably. This caning was taking it out of me.
We were up to twelve, across the top of my ass cheeks, a dozen each, the left, then the right shoulder. My balls wanted to shoot their fire through my hose and into the air, my cock cried to be the conduit by which that fire singed the sky. But the only singeing I was permitted was that being inflicted on my sore flesh.
I cried. I begged her through my garbled words. Several times I nearly tore the leather thongs from the ceiling beam. After all, I was not bound in a way I had no control over.
And yet I did not. I submitted to her. What Elizabeth was doing was just what I needed. She was drawing me to the limits of the pain and agony and worry that had consumed me for months now, whipping it out of my body in the most severely loving manner.
The last number I recall counting, and I seemed to be obsessed with keeping track of the numbers, was twenty five. The stinging blows of the cane across the tops of my ass cheeks sent me over the edge.
My body buckled and that is the last I remember until I found myself lying on my back, Elizabeth's cunt over top of my lips which ate her as though she were the rarest, most delectable fruit while, at the same time, her mouth tightened about my liberated cock.
We came together, our bodies convulsing, twitching, our mouths full enough with the other that the cries of joy were muffled. I held her plump ass and felt her cunny contract sharply around my tongue and I swallowed her juices hungrily. My cock shot from deep from my testicles, more cum than I recall ever producing, as though it had been stored up for this moment.
The release was wonderful. I cried again, now tears of joy and relief. Elizabeth and I clung together and slept intertwined on the floor of the attic until the sun's rays poured through the window and the birds began to sing.
Chapter Thirty-One
I wish I could say that my suspicions and resentments dissipated completely and that over the next three weeks all was well. All was far from well.
I found that despite Elizabeth's constant reassurances, I still resented Crea. In fact, one morning I dismantled her second cock, the one that seemed so eager to ejaculate. This was an act of sheer retribution on my part, and loosening the bolts and screws afforded me a great deal of pleasure.
Elizabeth, however, discovered what I had done and she was furious. She insisted I replace the object of desire immediately.
"Victor, I see no sense in this. Please, replace Crea's member at once."
"I will not. As it is, I should have sent her back to M. Krempe already. If you had not talked me into allowing her to stay for the wedding —"
"Not stay, darling, participate. After all, she is my maid of honor."
"Stay, participate, what's the difference. You no longer need her services, so this phallus is no longer useful," I said, waving the organ above my head. "At least as far as you are concerned."
Elizabeth gave me a look that said I was being silly, if not naughty, and she followed it up with, "You are becoming willful. Replace that pipe and then leave Crea alone this instant. Then I shall see you in the attic. Tonight. And you will receive a good strapping."
I was about to protest, ready to keep my side of the argument buoyed, and yet a session with Elizabeth was too enjoyable to pass up, so I said nothing, only nodded, and grudgingly replaced that insurgent item which I had just unscrewed.
We had been meeting daily, mainly the two of us, but it seemed every other night Crea joined in. This was never to my liking, but Elizabeth demanded it. She seemed to thrill at having Crea whip me nearly senseless while Elizabeth sucked my
cock dry. A whipping at the hand of my creation whom I now felt estranged from was difficult. Inwardly I rebelled at the very idea. And because of my apparent resistance, I suffered enormously. It took literally hours of the leather cane, or a leather strop speaking to my flesh before I heard my own softer voice of reason come through.
Crea whipped far harder than Elizabeth. And yet it was Elizabeth who knew my weaknesses and directed that inhuman hand so skillfully. My body during the day was sore from my punishments. My anus throbbed in pain from the hours of impalement by that enormous cock. And my balls ached as Elizabeth drained them over and over each night. It was a delicious agony that kept me sane. But the effects did not last long and by midday I was again tense and distrustful, doing or saying something that annoyed Elizabeth. This would last until we retired to the attic and that tension was thrashed from my hide.
I cannot say this was unpleasant. I did, however, feel as though I'd entered a cycle of pleasure and pain that made me nearly oblivious to all else.
Around me plans for the wedding were in full swing. I was fitted for a suit. Parties were held, gifts presented and unwrapped. Rehearsals attended. And through it all by body and soul were in turmoil. I longed for the day when our vows were taken and Elizabeth and I could be alone together so that I might do the thing that I feared had already been done —claim her maidenhead.
Of course, I questioned Elizabeth about her hymen. While she had me dangling from a type of sling strung from the attic beams, or lying across her knee, or impaled by Crea's monstrous cock, or when her mouth was full of my own cock as he emptied his love into her. When I plugged her bottom hole, or watched in despair as Crea took her rectum. When the three of us sucked and fondled and bit and fucked one another throughout the sweltering summer nights in the attic. And always she assured me that she was intact, waiting for me and me alone. Even my fingers in her cunny hole did not stay my doubts, for was I not the master of creation? If I could create an intact hymen in Crea, could not Elizabeth have resown her own?
Darker Passions: Frankenstein Page 17
