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Darker Passions: Frankenstein
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THE DARKER PASSIONS: FRANKENSTEIN
By Nancy Kilpatrick
Digital Edition published by Crossroad Press
Copyright 2012 / Nancy Kilpatrick
Cover Design By: David Dodd
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LICENSE NOTES
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the vendor of your choice and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Meet the Author
Nancy Kilpatrick is a writer and editor. She has published 18 novels, 1 non-fiction book, over 200 short stories, 5 collections of stories, and has edited 12 anthologies.
She writes dark fantasy, horror, mysteries and erotic horror, under her own name, her nom de plume Amarantha Knight, and her newest pen name Desiree Knight (Amarantha's younger sister!)
Nancy has been a Bram Stoker finalist three times, a finalist for the Aurora Award five times and, in addition to winning several short fiction contests, won the Arthur Ellis Award for best mystery.
She lives with her calico cat Fedex in lovely Montreal. As with previous dwellings, this one features Gothic decor, which suits the sensibilities of both residents.
When Nancy is not writing, she travels planet earth—the Great Curio Cabinet—in search of cemeteries, ossuaries, catacombs, mummies and Danse Macabre artwork.
Book List
Eternal City
The Vampire Stories of Nancy Kilpatrick
The Power of the Blood World:
Child of the Night
Near Death
Reborn
Bloodlover
The Darker Passions Series (writing as Amarantha Knight):
Dracula
Frankenstein
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
The Picture of Dorian Gray
The Fall of the House of Usher
Carmilla
The Pit and the Pendulum
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Acknowledgements
To my lovely friends and my companion Hugues Leblanc for unwavering support. And of course, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, a woman who dared to dream big, and who wasn't afraid to hang out with poets.
In just seven days, oh baby!
I can make you a ma-an-an-an-an!
Frank-N-Furter
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Chapter One
Ice. Nothing but cold, inhuman ice. Where was the warm, hot flesh, burning with desire, moist with longing, eager to melt before a passionate will?
Robert Walton wondered what had possessed him to captain this desperate ship lurching along on its ill-conceived voyage through the land of mist and snow. He gazed off into the distance of the frozen wasteland before him. Far out on the white north Atlantic —on the western horizon —Robert imagined the speck he saw moving across the floes to be a human being. A person like himself —desperate for companionship. Eager for solace against the chilly winds that were a day-to-day reality. Eager for the fires of passion to ignite and envelop the body and transcend the soul.
But, of course, that spec was no homo sapien. Impossible. An hallucination. Likely an animal, a seal perhaps, or some sturdy bird suited to this unfortunate climate was what he had seen.
Damn! he thought. What had brought him here? Some pathetic sense of adventure? An urge to display his metal, to prove himself a man in charge? A man who could seek out the perfect being to be the Psyche to his Eros, the nail to his driving hammer.
He glanced around his ship, staring at the various low-life crew members sullenly performing their tasks. His money had paid for this vessel, and their wages, and yet only yesterday they had threatened mutiny. He had taken the cat to a dozen backs, flailing flesh hardened by wind and salt water until his fury was spent and the decks were painted red. And yet in his heart, he suspected his crew of more sanity than he himself possessed. For what was the point of sailing these inhospitable seas, questing for friendship in love? For months his only contact had been Billie, the cabin "boy", a wiry, humorless eighteen year old who barely warmed his bed at night. Billie, a female disguised as a male, performed well enough yet lacked a certain élan, as the French would say.
"Dogsled approaching from the East, Sir," the crewman at the crow's-nest called.
Robert hurried starboard. "Good God!" he shouted. Then, "You men, hurry! Over the side and halt that sled. The driver has collapsed."
Indeed, the bundled figure strapped to the rear of the sled appeared to have fainted. Either that, or he was dead.
Half a dozen sailors leaped over the side of The Virgin to block the path of the run-away dogs. Five white, grey and black huskies with haunting pale eyes dragged the dead body of a sixth dog along, as well as the packed sled complete with a driver incapable of control. Within ten minutes the strong crewmen had the wild dogs subdued. The driver was unstrapped and hauled onboard The Virgin and brought immediately to the captain's quarters below deck.
"Heat the stones," Robert ordered Billie, "and wrap him in furs. This man needs attention. His limbs are blue and I don't doubt he'll lose a few digits."
Billie did as instructed, covering the comatose man with lambs wool blankets and slipping the sizzling stones into wool cases which she positioned against the stranger's flesh. Robert directed the lass to mix a hot toddy. The captain tilted the mug of warm rum against the frozen man's icy lips. Some of the sweet drink made it down his throat. Within moments his lids parted and glacial blue eyes stared into Robert's brown ones.
"We must find them!" the stranger whispered. "Before it is too late." With that his eye lids dropped and he slept for the next two days.
"I'm fine. Fit as a fiddle," Victor Frankenstein declared, struggling to get to his feet.
"If you were a fiddle, your casing would have cracked long ago from the severity of the temperatures," Robert said. "I suggest you lie back and gather strength."
The suggestion was unnecessary, however, since the weakened Herr Frankenstein did not have the ability to sit much less stand on his own. When his legs gave in, he did indeed fall back onto bed.
"Billie!" Robert called.
The slim young woman who imitated a slim young man ducked her head through the door at the top of the steps. "Captain?" The voice was high, but most of the crew thought Billie simply a late developer; none suspected a female aboard ship. Had they, chaos would have reigned. Billie would have no doubt enjoyed the plowings, since the girl was insatiable, if rather coarse. Robert had seen her eagerly getting her rear hole plugged in a darkened galley by more than one sailor, who suspected nothing and believed that the behind in question belonged to a lad and not a lass.
"My guest has need of your services."
A grin spread across Billie's ruddy-cheeked face. A toothless grin, for she had often scrapped with the heftier port barmaids long before Robert's ship left Glasgow two months ago. Every tooth in her head had been knocked out. Rather than this being a tragedy, Billie declared the incident a blessing in the long run. And, in fact, that hollow cavity of pleasure did not make her ugly, but oddly increased her beauty. That mouth consisting of only pink flesh, worked wonder
s over a swollen cock. It had convinced Robert to take her aboard and those same eager gums were the remedy he had in mind now for the ailing Dr. Frankenstein.
Billie was already undressed, facing the bed, her slim back to her master, who sat on the three foot long bench used for various purposes. In the dim light of the gas lamp, Billie's slim but full-cheeked behind glowed only a faint pink. Robert had been so preoccupied with his visitor of late that he had neglected his duties.
"Billie!" he called sharply. The girl turned. Yes, the proof of it was on her insolent face. Not only had she the expression of one simply performing a task, like scrubbing the deck, but her nipples betrayed her. They were neither hard nor pointed. The entire impression was lack-luster. Robert had no intention of looking bad before his guest by sending an inferior lifeboat to the rescue.
He pointed to his lap. "Over the knee. Now!" A glint of excitement flashed in the girl's dark eyes, followed by a look of longing. She hurried across the small room. But when she reached him, she stopped and looked confused.
"Captain, sir..."
"What is it?"
"You've no implement. Shall I fetch your razor strop?"
"I've two good natural implements, hardened enough, as you will soon recall. For your insolence, you will taste each of them. Now, must I tell you again? Over the knee!"
Billie bent forward and then fell across his lap in an awkward manner. Her toes and fingertips touched the floor, allowing her lush behind to curve over the side of his right leg.
The flesh quivered in anticipation. He felt her body hot through his pants. His cock stiffened immediately and strained against the fabric. He ran a hand over first one cheek and then the other. Billie trembled in anticipation. In the bed against the wall, Victor Frankenstein managed to prop himself up, watching eagerly.
The ship's captain slid a finger down the crack in Billie's welcoming ass. The bottom hole seemed to open like a little mouth when he passed over it. He traveled further, cutting between her moist hot nether lips. His hand felt the heat rise from her like heat emanating from the round-bellied coal stove in the corner of the room. He intended to stoke that fire, though, so that she would provide a sufficient level of combustion to warm his chilled guest properly.
Billie required little preparation, and he gave her none. His palm smacked her cheeks, one after the other, in quick succession. "There's nothing like the sound of flesh on flesh," he said warming to the delightful task. His visitor nodded.
Smack! Smack! Each in turn. As the moments passed, the cheeks reddened. Billie moaned, at first softly, soon louder. Little cries joined the cracks and seeped through the portholes, a fine musical blend of pleasure and pain. Soon those fleshy cheeks were dancing and Billie was singing in harmony. A quick glance at Frankenstein assured Robert he had his guest's full attention.
One of Robert's strengths was his hands. The flesh was hard but not calloused. He had yet to find the bottom that would not tire before he did. As he spanked the jiggling cheeks, Billie's legs flew out. She now held on only by her hands propping her up against the floorboards. She kicked wildly as he whaled the daylights out of her disobedient little ass. Now the cheeks resembled a brilliant Atlantic sunset. No doubt her cries could be heard throughout the ship. He expected every member of the crew had one hand inside his pants.
Across the room, Frankenstein's mouth lay open and his eyes bulged. He was warm, no doubt, having tossed off the covers. Sweat covered his naked body and his cock stood thick and hard and throbbing in his hand. Robert noticed the gold nipple ring affixed to his left tit and, in passing, wondered about it.
The glow on Billie's bottom turned the color of blood, although no skin had been broken. Her sobs filled the room, bathing the walls in the moisture of desire. He felt the insides of her thighs and discovered them slick.
"Up!" he commanded.
Billie stood on shaky legs. The nipples of her pert breasts had hardened to fleshy pebbles. Obviously his efforts had proven effective. But she could do far better than that for his guest.
"Over the other knee!"
Her face —wet with tears —looked shocked, but also delighted. "Captain, sir, I beg you —"
"Silence!" It was a game between them. She would beg him to cease, all the time wanting more. And he would satisfy her wants and needs because in the end she would satisfy him with that mouth that was like no other.
He pointed severely and she moved around him. From this side Victor Frankenstein had a far healthier view of her flaming derriere.
"Fortunately I am ambidextrous," Robert enlightened him, and at once set to on Miss Billie's fanny from this new perspective.
Her flesh was cosy and hot to the touch. This spanking would last her a day or two, that was certain.
His left hand was perhaps a bit more powerful, which is why he'd saved it. Each smack resounded around a room otherwise silent save for Billie's wails. Robert felt the pressure at his crotch becoming unbearable and regretted this tanning would not benefit him.
He smacked and smacked the trembling cheeks, spanking with a full swing, enjoying the feel of her bottom moulding to the shape of his hand at the moment of connection. Again, Billie let her legs fly up into the air while she balanced against the floor boards. Her hips bucked and her mound knocked against his leg in time to the punishment, adding to her excitement. No doubt Frankenstein had a good gander at her wet cunny.
Finally, regretfully, Robert finished. He could have continued, but his guest was about to be overcome with enthusiasm.
"Attend to Herr Frankenstein," he instructed Billie, who got quickly to her feet and hurried across the room. She bent at the waist and placed her hands on the bed on each side of Frankenstein's body. Then she lowered her toothless mouth over that swollen hot rod and began to lap and suck the juices out of him.
Robert's intention had been to be the gracious host, simply allowing his guest to enjoy his hospitality. But the sight of Billie's fiery ass poised in the air one moment, then bobbing with her movements the next, her legs spread so that the red cunny lips, saturated with moisture, twinkled in the lamp glow as if inviting visitors, well, all of it proved too much for him.
He unbuttoned his trousers as he stood and had his own rod deep in that cunt fast. She closed on him immediately. The heat inside matched the heat of her ass cheeks. He banged against that sore bottom, his cock sliding in and out of her tight, rippling flesh. The room filled with the sounds of Victor's moans as Billie's talented mouth slurped and coaxed out his creamy seed.
The three came together in a sound that resembled waves breaking over the shore. Victor cried out. Billie, her cunt-like mouth full of pulsing penis, moaned loudly as her vagina contracted sharply. Robert let his head fall back and a roar escape his lips as he rammed deep into her tight inferno one final time.
Billie cleaned the men with her ever-hungry mouth and, once she'd resumed her masculine disguise, departed, climbing the steps, her no-doubt burning bottom swaying in complete and joyful liberation.
Robert poured two glasses of Jamaican rum and handed one over to Frankenstein.
"A rare wild flower," Victor said, downing his liquor in one gulp. "A definite asset to a ship's captain."
"If you mean she has the rough beauty of a weed garden that requires wildflower reseeding on a regular basis, yes, that is true. I find her willing enough. That is not the issue with Billie. More, it is that she is too pedestrian in her tastes, lacking finesse, as you Swiss would say." He refilled Frankenstein's glass and they drank in silence for several moments.
"Now that you've regained your voice, Doctor Frankenstein, for I learned of your profession from your papers which I took the liberty of examining when we thought you near death, perhaps you'll enlighten me. What is a man of obvious breeding doing this far north? On the frozen ocean? And alone?"
Frankenstein eyed him, an appraising look, one that showed curiosity and questioned the fabric of which the speaker was made. "I might ask you the same thing. You are ob
viously not a career sailor, but of the aristocratic class, like myself, and yet you captain a vessel." Frankenstein's voice was firmer than the situation called for, perhaps made so by recent exertions. Still, an obvious battle of wills could ensue, should Robert allow that to happen. As it was, he felt in control of the situation, and of his position here on his boat, his territory. This man, despite the hint of power in his eyes, was no threat. At least not for the moment.
"If you must know, my plan had been to travel the North Atlantic and cross east to the North Pacific. True, this is a long way around, and a difficult passage, but I am searching the world for a partner, one who will join me in my unusual passions and engage with me in any manner I choose. Before you inquire, someone of a finer disposition and temperament than our Billie. I am not concerned with gender —male or female will do equally. What I seek has more to do with constitution on the outside and subtlety on the inside."
A spark of recognition glinted in Frankenstein's eyes, followed by a hollow laugh. All this was accompanied by a nod of understanding. "The moment I awoke and laid eyes on you, Captain Walton, I saw as if in a mirror. You and I are alike, which is a pity, since I am here as a living example of such passionate goals gone awry."
"And how is that?"
"If you will permit me, I shall tell you a story, a long tale that will take time to repeat. But once you have heard my experiences, I think they will alter your own goals somewhat, if not completely."
"Well, now that we are caught in the ice floes, waiting for enough of a thaw to sail either ahead or back, other than struggling to subdue the mutinous blackguards who call themselves my crew, and struggling equally to keep under control the melancholy fueled by a wild nature such as my own barely fed in this environment of scarcity, I have little else to do. I expect a good tale will entertain me, if nothing more, and might even be a distraction from the longing which possesses me night and day. Go ahead. Tell your story. What have I to lose?"