Darker Passions: Frankenstein Read online

  "What, indeed? A question I once recall asking myself when I was perhaps more naive."

  Suddenly his face became excited, his tone equally so.

  "You know, we are all unfashioned creatures, half made up. I once had a friend, no, a lover, the most nobel and intense of beings. Now I have lost everything. But, if you will indulge me, I shall begin my tale of woe."

  Chapter Two

  I can only tell you, Robert, that I am the product of an honorable family of scientists, and therefore have no excuse for my actions. I was born in Geneva, the eldest of two sons, to parents who adored and indulged me. I cannot fault them for my dark nature.

  Our family has a long and illustrious history, for is not the name Frankenstein itself indicative of the rocks which make up the landscape and of which our ancestral home had been built?

  I was destined to carry on the tradition and study the physical sciences at university and at eighteen attended Oxford.

  As a child I'd been attracted to the theories of Cornelius Agrippa and Paracelsus, and, of course, Albertus Mangus. Simple ideas by today's standards, and yet they had absorbed my young mind and fired my creative spirit.

  When I entered university, though, these ancient scholars were complimented by the latest scientific theories and I began to see the universe in a fuller perspective and to sense the possibilities. If you had been able then to unearth secrets I kept even from myself, what would have been revealed was that I searched for the Philosopher's Stone, an Elixir of Life no less.

  Of course, to utter this would have been heresy in an institute of higher learning. For all intents and purposes, though, I was a model student, and quite brilliant, as my professors were inclined to inform me.

  The summer before my second year at Oxford, during the school holidays, I went vacationing at Lake Como with my parents. My kind-hearted mother discovered a girl in the market place, so thin from malnourishment she could apparently not feed herself. The girl was, though, of good breeding. Her father, recently deceased, had been a Milanese nobleman; her mother, who had died just after the girl's birth, had also been of the upper class. An unfortunate set of circumstances had deprived this orphan of her rightful fortune, and mother took pity on her.

  This girl was twelve months older than my own nineteen years, and as lovely and fair a thing as I'd ever seen. Hair the brightest living gold, and enormous eyes like a cloudless blue sky contributed to her waif-like quality. Her full lips were sensual and, I suspected, sweet, and right from the start I longed to taste them.

  On hearing her story, my mother virtually adopted Elizabeth, and she returned with us to Geneva. The arrangement worked well on all counts, since my mother had always wanted another female in a household congested with males.

  Elizabeth proved to be intelligent as well as beautiful.

  Her curiosity knew no bounds. She was adventurous and liked to investigate where others feared to tread. This appealed to my scientific thrust, as I was an investigative type myself, although not nearly as daring as she. I was soon to discover that she also possessed an appetite for sensory stimulation, and experimented constantly with ways to heighten experience.

  I do not believe she had been in our home two weeks when we were alone together breakfasting in the gazebo one sunny morning. My father and brother were away, and mother was down with a cold.

  I picked up the sterling tea pot of just-boiled water a servant had brought us and, distracted by Elizabeth's airy chatter, burned my knuckle against the blazing metal. A small cry escaped me. Elizabeth fell silent and watched me avidly. Embarrassed by my outburst, I ignored the pain and continued pouring my tea. I was just sipping the warmth and comfort from my gold-rimmed china cup when she said in her sweetly seductive voice, "Victor, show me your manliness."

  Hot tea sputtered from between my lips. I stared at her, aghast. Those taunting but lovely eyes of blue sparkled daringly in the sunlight.

  "Unless, of course, you're embarrassed," she added.

  "I am not embarrassed," I declared, although in truth I was. It had occurred to me already that Elizabeth was far more experienced than me. Still, this I would not admit. "I shall show you my family jewels if I can see your mons veneris."

  She laughed, a light, sparkling sound that caused her body to quiver and her golden curls to jiggle. In truth, she looked fetching and I longed to kiss her. "I'll show you these mountains first," she said, slowly unbuttoning her dress from the high neck down.

  I cannot adequately express the tension within me as her flesh came into view. I had not seen a woman's breasts before, at least none I remembered, and as each tiny pearl button slid through the hole and exposed more fair skin, then the shadowy valley between the two mountains swelling above them, my heart beat faster. I could not breathe. My palms grew sweaty. I felt a pressure at my groin. Each mountain became more and more bathed in the sunlight. And then those gorgeous circles of strawberry fields emerged, with the reddest, ripest fruit of all at the delicious peaks.

  "Would you like to touch them?" she asked.

  My mouth was dry but I managed to nod.

  "Then give me your hand."

  Without being aware of it, I reached out my hand and touched one of those warm mountain ranges. Her hand led my fingers from the firm flesh of the hillside, here hot, here cooler, the undersides hotter still, and moist, then to the soft areola to the sassy hard red nub at the tip. The moment I touched it, her lips parted and a moan filled the screened-in enclosure. It seemed to me the fleshy nub became even firmer as I rubbed my fingertip across it.

  And rub it I did. I used all my fingertips, then my palm. I fondled and toyed with this magnificent region for what seemed an eternity. All the while Elizabeth squirmed in her seat as though my every movement sent a spasm through her. Then instinctively I took the nipple between my thumb and first finger and pinched hard. Elizabeth's back arched as she thrust her eager little tittie towards me for more.

  "Oh Victor!" she cried. "If only your lips and teeth would speak to me as strongly!"

  At first I thought she wanted words from me, but my aching member sent me a message that this was a silent language she wished to hear. My head moved forward.

  "Lick my tittie," she whispered.

  I did.

  The taste of it was like fleshy honey, sweet, so sweet I wanted more. Within my trousers, my cock longed to be free of his restraints and find a liquid of his own to taste. I was about to use my entire mouth to devour that delight when suddenly a hand blocked my lips. I looked up into her blue eyes fringed in pale, wispy lashes.

  "First, Victor, you will show me what you have to offer."

  I knew what she meant. She wanted to see my cock, now swollen to capacity with excitement. I was terrified to reveal him, afraid that one glance from her would unlock the floodgates.

  I reached out for her nipple again, thinking that the pleasure I would bestow would make her forget the request. A hand slapped my face soundly.

  The slap stung me more emotionally than physically, although she was surprisingly strong.

  "You will unlock that mystery now, sir, or you will not savor my delicacies!"

  Oddly, that slap combined with her demanding words did not dampen my ardor, but inflamed it beyond my ability to control myself. My body betrayed me. I spewed all that was in me into my pants.

  Elizabeth, of course, knew well enough what was going on.

  I expected the worse, that she would laugh at me. She did not disappoint. Both of my cheeks reddened in shame. I'd lost all honor before her. I wanted nothing more than to slink away. In fact, I began to stand, to retreat to the house, to my room, if only to clean myself up.

  "Stop right there, sir," she said in a cold voice. "You have not been dismissed." Whatever possessed me, I cannot say, but I did obey her.

  "You have shown yourself worse than an animal, incapable of control. How will you ever satisfy a woman if you cannot maintain yourself at the crucial moment."

  I know my face fla
red again from the neck up, and yet I could do nothing but accept this tongue lashing, feeling myself inadequate on all counts.

  Suddenly her features shifted. She looked playful again. "There is a way you may redeem yourself and your pride, if you are man enough."

  "How is that?" I asked in a trembling voice.

  "Unbutton your trousers and drop them to the floor."

  "But if mother should look out the window —"

  "You're of age, you know. But if you are still a momma's boy, then I'm wasting my time with you."

  I felt dumb before her. Of course I was no longer a child, but a man. And the gazebo was fairly well hidden. Besides, my mother's eyesight was not good at a distance.

  All of these rationalizations confirmed to me that I wanted to obey Elizabeth, more than anything. I found myself undoing and dropping my trousers. Now my full but spent manhood stood half-heartedly before her, sticky with my recent emission.

  Tenderly, Elizabeth leaned forward and licked at the liquid. Then she leaned back. "Salty," she decided. "Yet a bit sweet as well." She licked again, which no doubt confirmed her first opinion. Soon she had me licked clean.

  I must admit that the actions of her tongue revived my fellow considerably. When he had risen to the occasion, she lapped at his head and licked up and down the shaft in a different manner entirely. Her tongue even found my testicles and worked at them, licking and sucking, she took them one at a time into her mouth, sucking and rolling them until they were high and firm.

  I stood with eyes closed, fists on my hips, struggling to keep the sounds from being released into the air, feeling for all the world like a king, no, a demi-god, being attended to by the fairest nymph in all of heaven. The pleasure her full lips and warm tongue gave me was exquisite. I felt a delicious pressure in my groin that increased moment by moment. And when her mouth covered my cock like a warm duvet, I believed I had died and entered a state of eternal bliss.

  My bliss was just about to abandon itself to ecstasy when a searing pain blazed across my right ass cheek. Instantly I gasped and jerked forward, thrusting my cock deeper into her mouth. The pain stayed with me, increasing because of its continuous presence. One of her arms locked around me, holding me in place.

  I glanced behind to see the belly of the hot sterling silver teapot she held pressed against my bottom cheek. The muscles beneath the singed flesh hopped around, trying to avoid what they could not avoid.

  In truth, I suppose I could have simply shoved her hand away. But again, as before, the pain only added to my pleasure in a diabolical manner. It was as though I were caught in a chasm where two sensations rippled through me with equal intensity, so equal that to lose one would mean to lose the other. I could not decide which I preferred and because of that and the fear that both would end, I struggled to hold on to each.

  The tension in me had to break. I came in a full blast into Elizabeth's mouth, shooting round after round of my seed down her receptive throat.

  When it was over and the hot pot had been removed from my steaming ass cheek, Elizabeth demurely rebuttoned her dress, stood and headed towards the house as though this had been an ordinary breakfast. Part way up the rose path, she turned. I stood dumbly, my trousers still around my ankles, the fire in my behind and the wondrous feeling of satisfaction consuming me. I had never seen such angelic beauty as what stood before me. She smiled at me up through those pale lashes, her eyes traveling up and down my bare parts, lingering in the area of my groin. I could not move. I was in a kind of after-shock of ecstasy.

  "The moon will be full tomorrow evening, Victor, and you will meet me at midnight here. Between now and then you must not relieve yourself, else I shall know it and punish you exceedingly." She smiled a little, as though she did not believe me capable of restraint; at that moment I vowed to prove myself. She turned, her delicate figure moving briskly up the path. I could only imagine the delights which lay beneath the layers of the fabric of her skirts.

  Now, alone in the gazebo, naked from the waist down, I felt the after effects. My ass cheek throbbed in pain. A quick glance showed a round burn mark made by the blazing metal, already blistering. I knew that would be uncomfortable for days to come, especially when I was forced to sit at meals and in the evening, during the long and boring family recitals. Still, that pain reminded me of Elizabeth and the joy I had encountered at her hands and would no doubt experience again. Even the thought of our tryst the following evening brought my fellow to his feet again. His longing, the ache in my balls, and the burning ass flesh carried me through the day and a half of torment until I should be subject to Elizabeth's will once more.

  Chapter Three

  Time crawled by until finally a day and a night and another day had elapsed. At midnight, with the full moon high in the sky, I snuck out of the house and down the rose path to the gazebo. It was just midnight, but after what felt to be thirty minutes wait and no sign of Elizabeth, I began to worry that I had gotten the time wrong. Or worse, that she was not coming.

  I was about to return to my bed and my moist dreams when I saw her form moving through the darkness like an alien being. As she approached, I saw she carried something in her hand, but did not know what. Even with the moonlight, it was too dim because of the trees.

  The moment she stepped into the gazebo, I reached out my arms to embrace her, but she pulled away. "In due time," she said, her voice sending a thrill through me. "Undress."

  "Completely?" I asked.

  "Of course."

  Another feeling of excitement raced through my loins as I removed my clothing. I'd been so occupied by my task that I had not noticed until I finished that Elizabeth had removed her own clothes. Through the trees, bits of moon shown white and brilliant. It illuminated our forms as it penetrated the screened-in sides of the gazebo, creating slivers of shadow and light. Elizabeth handed me something and I took it.

  "A branch?" My hand ran the length of a good thick tree branch, flexible, that narrowed. Now I was confused.

  "A birch from the garden," she said. "For teaching control in life, and bringing life to the dead."

  "Well, what?..." I really thoroughly confused now.

  "We shall take turns. You may start. Pick a number from one to ten and use the switch that many times on me. Then it's my turn to whip you."

  Well, this game had possibilities. "Alright," I said enthusiastically. "I choose the number three. Where shall I lay this."

  "Anywhere you like," she said seductively.

  A peculiar feeling I had not experience before seemed to be born in me that instant. The notion of being able to take the birch to her, to control her, filled me with a fantasy that was fresh. As a lad, I had escaped all forms of corporal punishment. Recently, though, I had accidently seen the bottom of my best friend, Henry Cherval, a fellow my own age, on the receiving end of a riding crop held by his family's stable master. Despite my inner protestations, my excitement had inflated me wildly. And here I was being offered the delicious fair skin of Elizabeth, in just such an arrangement. Still, I did not lose all my wits.

  "Have you been birched before?"

  "Never," she said.

  I did not know if I believed her professed virginity in this area, yet it did not really matter. She had never felt my hand swinging a birch, which was the point.

  "Alright. Lie over the table, then."

  "Did you want my bottom up or my front exposed?"

  The idea had not occurred to me that there were other places to switch. Still, I had not yet gathered all the courage I would need and opted for a conservative approach. "Face down," I ordered her, as though I did this every day.

  She did as I requested. The moon illuminated two smooth round cheeks awaiting my attention. I longed to touched them, to run my hands over their soft warmth and to discover the treasures between them, yet I did not know if this was part of the game we were playing. Until I learned the rules, I did not want to break them and frighten my opponent away.

  I took
a position to her left. Without further ado, I raised the branch about chest high and brought it down smoothly onto her behind. The birch swayed and whistled as it cut the air, then snapped soundly against the waiting flesh.

  I was astonished. Elizabeth did not even flinch. The moon showed me a streak across the middle of her bottom, though, which I found both encouraging and invigorating. I raised the switch again, this time shoulder high, and brought it down. Still no reaction on her part. Now there were two streaks, doubling my pleasure.

  Suddenly I began to worry that she was in severe pain. Perhaps she had even fainted. After all, she was the fairer sex, gentler, less able to cope with pain. As a man, I was expected to endure. She might be enduring but I may have pushed her beyond her capacity.

  "Elizabeth," I stumbled, "are you alright? Have I wounded you too greatly?"

  A silence ensued that unnerved me to the point where my erection began to dim. In the moonlight I noticed her body trembling as if she were sobbing silently. I was beside myself. I did not know what to do. Guilt plagued me. I felt on the verge of falling onto my knees and begging her forgiveness.

  "Continue," she said in a scathing tone. That's when I realized that not only had I yet to near her capacity, I had failed to make a dent. Rather than crying, she was laughing at me.

  In fury I raised the switch high above my head and brought it down hard across her ass. This time I got a reaction. Her bottom hopped into the air and a gasp escaped her lips. Then, "Much better."

  Even in the moonlight, it was clear my third stripe was more prominent than the first two by far. Once I had finished, Elizabeth was on her feet. The moon showed me an expression on her face far different than any I'd seen there before. I did not understand its meaning, but I knew I wanted to see more of it.