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Authors: Robin L. Rotham

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BOOK: FrankenDom
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I finally started breathing again—panting, actually—when he lowered the scalpel to
the button between my breasts. Against all reason, they swelled anxiously, my nipples
prickling and my clit throbbing a drumbeat of fierce arousal.

“Little adrenaline junkie,” Dirk murmured as he flicked the button off.

A puff of laughter escaped me. “Hardly. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”

“And you’re wildly turned on, aren’t you? I’m a surgeon too, you know. Cardiothoracic.
You have to be at least a bit of an adrenaline junkie to become a surgeon, I think.”
Tic!
Another button landed on the floor.

I stared into his dark gray eyes, completely confused, and he smiled. “Did you know
your irises have almost disappeared, little horny slave?”

Tic, tic, tic…

“Why?” I finally managed to croak.

“Why the deception?” When I nodded, he said, “Because I wanted to see the real Rachel
McBride. People tend to be more open around lowly staff. Imagine my dismay when you
insulted Julian’s fine home before you’d even set foot inside.”

Heat crept into my cheeks but I couldn’t think of anything to say in my defense. Colin,
I’d noticed, was watching Dirk’s progress avidly, and he mouthed
bad girl
at me before grinning from ear to ear.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

Then Dirk used the scalpel to spread open my sweater, revealing the wrinkled white
blouse underneath.

“You dress like a schoolgirl,” he said severely. “And this afternoon you acted like
a schoolgirl, saying the first thing that came to your mind without thought for your
generous host. You should be disciplined like a schoolgirl, don’t you think, slave?”

Was there a right answer to that?

“Feel free to discipline her in any way you see fit for her poor manners, Dirk.”

I bit my lip, cursing the arousal that slithered through my abdomen.

“Thank you, Julian, I shall do that when I believe she is in the proper headspace
to benefit from it.”

“Excellent.”

Dirk pulled my blouse from my skirt and made much better time slicing away its buttons.
When he reached my ecru cami, he immediately slid the scalpel underneath and sliced
it right down the front. The soft buzz of the fabric parting set my clit on fire.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He pulled the sides of my clothes apart. “Such fine
big
titten
you hide behind all that ugly material!”

I let my head fall back against the wall, breathing heavily. Why, why,
why
did this turn me on so freaking much? I should hate the things Dirk said to me, about
me. I should hate feeling like a sex object—or more to the point, a collection of
sex objects.

“I told you,” Colin said, his heavy eyes fixed on the
titten
in question. His cock, which had been flaccid when I arrived, now stood at stiff
attention, booby-trap apparatus and all.

“Colin!” I cried. Was there anything he
hadn’t
shared about me?

His eyes didn’t move, but he licked his lips. “What?”

Dirk distracted me by taking the handle of the scalpel between his teeth and yanking
my bra cups down under my breasts.

I groaned, unnerved and yet unbelievably aroused to be so crudely exposed to the eyes
of these men, three of whom I’d never slept with and two of whom I’d never met before
today. My nipples were already tight, hard peaks begging for attention—which Dirk
provided without hesitation, leaning over to tease them with his hot tongue.

Whimpering, desperately craving more, I pushed forward helplessly and he chuckled.
“Your pretty little slut is dripping in her schoolgirl tights, Julian. I can smell
it.”

Slut.
For just an instant I tensed, but arousal triumphed. “Please.”

“No manners, no patience, and probably no control over her orgasm,” he said scornfully.
I was just starting to feel like the worst slave ever when he added, “You have years
of intensive training ahead, you lucky bastard.”

“One can only hope,” Julian replied with a grim smile as he walked closer. Gesturing
at my chest, he said, “I want this all off.”

At once, Dirk sliced everything above my waist, including my bra, into ribbons.

“Was that really necessary?” I complained as he pulled the pieces off me.

“No, you mouthy little slut, but it was certainly fun,” he said with a smile.

Again the word
slut
buffeted me, whipping up my emotions like a high wind on water. I bit my tongue.
I’m not a slut.

Then Julian touched me for the first time. He laid the fingertips of his long, narrow
right hand on my collarbones, letting them rest there for a moment before ghosting
them up over my throat and chin to explore the contours of my lips.

Then he laid both hands on my waist. “Kiss me, Rachel.”

All the breath rushed out of me and my heart thumped crazily while I stared at him
as if I’d never seen him before. Which I hadn’t, at least not from this close and
not in any circumstances where I felt free to study him. His face was much larger
than I’d imagined, his bold nose longer, his chiseled lips fuller and the cleft in
his stubborn chin deeper. It was a distinguished face. A heroic face.

A face I had permission to kiss.

Before he had a chance to change his mind, I stood on my toes and pressed my hungry
mouth to his. My eyes closed and my mind emptied of everything but tactile awareness
of Julian—his soft lips, his smooth-shaven chin nudging mine, his quick breaths gusting
against my cheek…

Julian.
He was real to me now, in every way.

I don’t know why I was startled when his lips parted and the kiss turned sexual. His
tongue made an arrogant foray into my mouth, sparking fires much further south in
my anatomy, and I groaned with excitement. Before I could respond in kind, he captured
the edge of my bottom lip between his teeth, holding it as if declaring ownership.

Everything in me stilled, and I stood there acquiescent, breathing in the clean, masculine
scent of him and starkly aware that his claim encompassed far more than that tender
bit of skin.

Then my stomach growled and he released my lip abruptly as his grip on my waist tightened.

“Did you eat your dinner before you escaped?” he demanded.

“Um…no?”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “What am I going to do with you, slave? You neglected
to read your contracts, you insulted my castle, you left your room without permission,
you refused to undress, and now I find out you didn’t eat the meal I provided for
you?”

“I’m s—”

“The list of your transgressions grows rather alarming, doesn’t it, slave?” When I
nodded miserably, he said, “Real punishment, unfortunately for us both, will have
to wait until tomorrow night since I committed to showing you only pleasure this evening.”

I didn’t see anything unfortunate about it but thought it best to keep that to myself.

“You hang there and be quiet until I come up with some sort of correction that’s appropriate
for the offense. Now get her stripped,” he barked at Dirk, stepping away from me.
“We have unfinished business with Colin.”

 

* * * * *

 

Thirty seconds later, I was completely naked, all my clothes in shreds on the floor
in front of me.

“Now, where were we?” Julian said, all business again as he reached behind Colin’s
lounging table.

Colin sighed when his arms were pulled up again. “As if you’d forget, Sir.”

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Colin?”

“No, Sir!”

“Are you contradicting me now?”

Colin sighed again. “No, Sir.”

“I have two disobedient slaves desperately in need of correction, Dirk.”

“Indeed you do.”

“I’d planned to let him fuck her tonight after all,” Julian said, “but if I do, I’ll
be rewarding someone’s misbehavior.”


Sir!
” Colin whined.
Whined
.

“Dirk, if you please.”

Dirk walked over to the shelves on the right. Opening a case I hadn’t noticed before,
he picked up something that looked kind of like an electric carving knife with a comb
instead of blades and plugged it in to a wall outlet. When he twisted the knob on
the bottom, the comb began to glow neon pink.

Oh hell, a violet wand. I’d never seen one, but I knew enough about them to make me
tense all over. I hated static shocks from the laundry—the violet wand was bound to
be a hell of a lot worse than that.

“Hello again, Colin.” Dirk swept the comb slowly up the side of Colin’s abdomen, skirting
the light brown arrow of his chest hair. I couldn’t tell if it was touching him or
not, but small pink sparks arced from comb teeth into his skin, and Colin and I both
gasped.

“Are you sure that’s safe?” I asked tremulously.

Julian glared at me. “Was I unclear when I told you to be quiet, slave?”

“No, but—”

“Do you honestly believe I would endanger the health of anyone in my care?”

“Not deliberately, no.”

“You think I’m incompetent then,” he said stiffly.

My eyes widened in alarm. “Of course not, Sir!”

“There’s no
of course
about it, slave—either you trust me or you don’t. Or perhaps you’re back to thinking
I’m a maniac?”

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, Sir. Of course I don’t think that. I’m just… I don’t want
anything bad to happen to Colin.”

“Why thank you, Rachel.”

“However big an ass he is,” I added meanly, unwilling to let Colin make too much of
my concern.

He just grinned.

“Your next assignment, slave—and those are beginning to pile up already, too, aren’t
they?—will be to write one thousand-word research paper on the violet wand, due at
breakfast one week from today.”

I sighed. “Yes, Sir. I assume I’ll be given the code for internet access?”

“Of course. But for now, just to set your mind at ease, the wand doesn’t send current
through the body, just across the skin. Done right, it’s not the least bit dangerous.”

Done right.
Key words there. How would I know if it was done right?

“Dirk,” Julian said in a silky tone, “perhaps the little slave would feel better about
the wand if she experienced it for herself.”

Dirk turned immediately, switching off the wand. “With pleasure, Sir.”

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

He returned to the case and switched out the glass comb head for a slender one with
a flattened ball on the end. “The mushroom probe, I think, for her first time,
ja
?”

Probe?
No. No probing.

“That’s what I would start with,” Julian said agreeably.

Appalled, I shrunk into the wall. “That’s okay, I’m sure Colin’s fine. He’s prob—probably
used to it.”

“He is,” Julian acknowledged. “In fact, not to put too fine a point on it, he’s addicted
to it, aren’t you, fuckhole mine?”

“Yes, Sir, I am.”

Skipping over the
fuckhole
reference, I stared at Colin in the flickering dark. “Really? You enjoy it that much?”

“Rachel, if I didn’t, he wouldn’t do it. Much,” he added with a grin.

I glared at him. “Not helping.”

Fully expecting him to start probing sensitive areas, I cringed when Dirk came close,
but he drew the probe down my inner forearm, barely touching my skin. The effervescent
sensation raised the hairs on my arms and made me shiver. It was like really dry champagne
on my tongue, disappearing before I could even swallow.

“There was no spark,” I said inanely.

“There won’t be on a low setting,” Dirk said, “especially when the electrode is touching
your skin. More power and a little distance would give you more bite.” He ran it slowly
over my arms, my neck, my cheek… All I felt was the pleasant effervescent tingling.

“Oh, Sir,” Colin groaned. Julian was typing something into the laptop, which was also
connected to the e-stim unit, and I watched, mesmerized, as Colin stiffened and began
to writhe gently, his cock bobbing.

“There, that should keep him occupied while I help introduce my new slave to the pleasures
of the wand,” Julian said, meandering toward me. “The e-stim unit has a microphone
picking up the ambient sounds in the room—voices, the discharges from the coils—and
he feels them in the output level. Louder sounds mean higher intensity for my fuckhole,
don’t they, Colin
?”

He shouted the last three words, and Colin went up on his toes.

“Yes, Sir,” he said through clenched teeth.

All three of the sadists in the room chuckled. I could hardly stop staring at Colin’s
penis. What was happening to it? What did it feel like?

Julian took the wand and twisted the knob on the base. When he held the electrode
close to my navel, a spark made me yelp and suck in my stomach. He zapped me again,
this time on the underside of my breast. I gasped and thought about calling yellow,
but thinking was all I did.

When he brought the wand close to my other breast, I cringed as far away as the chains
would let me, but Julian just grinned and followed. The spark hit my bunched-up nipple
and seemed to zap straight down to my clit.

“Yellow,” I squeaked.

Frowning, he drew back. “Why did you use your safe word, Rachel?”

“Because I’m…scared, Sir.”

He cocked a brow. “Do you honestly believe that I’ll really hurt you?”

“Well, no. But Sir—”

“I can plainly see your sweet little shaved pussy raining down your thighs, slave.
You’re completely turned on by this.”

Exactly. That was what scared me.

“Don’t safe-word again unless you’re genuinely frightened or in pain, or you’ll suffer
consequences you won’t enjoy. Are we clear on that, slave?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He leaned toward Dirk and murmured something too low for me to hear. Dirk took the
wand, and when he returned with some kind of cord plugged into it where the electrode
had been, Julian stripped off lab coat, leaving his long, pale arms bare. Then he
tucked the metal tube at the end of the cord into the waistband of his pants.

BOOK: FrankenDom
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