Lust Ever After. Rose Fer de
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the curative ‘paroxysm’ that physicians found so tedious and difficult to administer by hand. As he explained the process, he gently prised Daisy’s legs apart and placed his hand against her sex, making her whimper with longing. She was extremely wet, an observation Frankenstein immediately shared with the watchers. It only made her wetter. If she hadn’t been hysterical before, she most certainly was now.
She couldn’t help recalling some of the pictures she had seen in one of those forbidden volumes – strange Oriental drawings of men and women unclothed, in astonishing positions, performing acts she wouldn’t have imagined possible. The pictures had made her blush and tingle and her sex had throbbed much as it was doing now. She felt herself drowning in the sensation as he described the procedure in more detail and answered several questions about the mechanics of the device.
The situation was dizzyingly erotic for Daisy. The doctor never once called her by name; he merely referred to her as ‘the subject’. And yet somehow his impersonal manner only enhanced her arousal. Her entire body felt inflamed, all her senses heightened. Frankenstein urged her legs wider apart and with his fingers he spread her open. She closed her eyes, awash with the sense of exposure and the peculiar pleasure it brought her.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to experience this ‘paroxysm’ if it would relieve her symptoms of hysteria. The physical hunger was itself wildly pleasurable and she didn’t want it to end. Indeed, every time he touched her, however dispassionately, she felt her heart race faster.
One of the students spoke up. ‘Sir, may we ask for a demonstration of how this device works?’
‘Ah, no,’ Frankenstein said. ‘Unfortunately, the device is too large to transport. I keep it in a special private chamber in my consulting rooms. The ladies must come to me, you see.’
Daisy tried to imagine the apparatus and found she grew even more excited by the picture her mind was creating. She saw herself standing before a huge contraption of cold steel, twisting her hands nervously as she waited to surrender her body to its treatment. At Dr Frankenstein’s instruction, she removed her dress and wore only her chemise. A hooded assistant, with smooth feminine hands, helped her up onto a wide wooden platform. She eased Daisy onto her back on a gleaming metal table and fastened her arms tightly above her head with manacles. Then she pulled Daisy’s legs wide apart, securing them with iron bands around her knees and ankles. The position left her sex completely exposed.
Daisy heard a deep rumbling as the steam engine roared to life and the entire structure began to throb around her. There was the low hum of voices as Dr Frankenstein and his lady assistant discussed various settings for the machine and moved around Daisy making adjustments. She heard the sound of a crank turning, the clank and rattle of a chain, and she looked up to see a strange mechanism being lowered into position between her legs. It too was made of cold steel and shaped like the male parts she had seen in the forbidden books. Unable to escape, she had no choice but to submit as Dr Frankenstein pushed the mechanism deep inside her, making her cry out. The assistant told her softly to be quiet and she bit back a cry as the device began to pump like a piston, in and out, in and out. She strained against her bonds to reassure herself that she was held fast.
She closed her eyes as a pair of soft hands untied the laces of her chemise, exposing her full breasts. Helpless and fully on display, Daisy surrendered to the exquisite sensations as the assistant caressed her. The cold machine ravished her while warm human hands cupped her breasts, tweaking the nipples. As had been pointed out to the roomful of students, she was highly responsive. The enormous engine bombarded her with pleasure so intense she wasn’t sure she could take it. Then the lady lowered her head to Daisy’s breasts, pressing her lips against –
‘But, sir, surely you don’t intend to leave the girl in such a state?’
The voice startled Daisy from her fantasy and she opened her eyes, surprised for a moment to find herself back in the operating theatre and not strapped into the steel contraption.
‘Certainly not,’ Frankenstein said, ‘but, given the state of extreme arousal in the subject, I don’t imagine it will prove very difficult to treat her by hand.’
Daisy bit her lip, desperately wanting relief now. He was right; there was no way she could function in such a disordered state. She needed his help. She looked up at him pleadingly, grinding her sex hard against his hand, completely unashamed of the copious wetness she knew he could feel there.
He smiled at her and began to massage the soft folds of her sex, first gently, then with more vigour. Daisy abandoned herself to the ministrations of his skilful fingers, crying out with no concern for her shameless display. She didn’t know what to expect but she knew it when it came. The powerful feelings seemed to spread out from her sex, flooding her whole body. Every muscle was tensed and trembling as she hovered on the brink of ecstasy. At last she reached a peak and a series of spasms overtook her, making her scream. She clamped her legs tightly around his hand as she succumbed to the internal battering that pounded her like waves.
She went limp as the violent spasms gradually faded to a gentle pulsing. She rolled onto her side and drew her legs up to her chest, curling into a ball. She heard the doctor’s voice as if from far away, addressing the room. Whatever he was saying, it had nothing to do with her. Any anxiety she had been feeling at the start of the demonstration was long gone. All she wanted now was to bask in the glow of the delicious relief.
Some time later, he helped her to her feet. The room was empty. He turned away discreetly as she dressed herself, her legs shaky from the experience. She was certain the evidence of what he had done to her was painted across her face for all to see.
‘You did very well,’ he said, ‘and you’ve more than earned your fee.’ He passed her the gold sovereign he had promised her.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she said shyly, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. She tucked the coin into her shoe and clasped her hands as she worked up the courage to ask him the question burning in her mind.
At last she spoke. ‘Sir? This device you spoke of …’
‘Yes, Daisy?’
‘If you ever wished to … Well, that is to say …’ She bit her lip and forced the words out. ‘Might you one day need someone for a demonstration of how it works?’
He smiled and touched her face fondly, as though he’d known all along what was in her mind.
Chapter Two
Justine
It was dark by the time the coach drew up outside the house of Frankenstein. The imposing gothic façade soared above the cobbled drive, its steep gables and asymmetrical roofline carving its outline against the moonlit sky. The horses stamped their feet and snorted, breath pluming in the crisp winter air. It had been a tiring day and Frankenstein was looking forward to relaxing in his study with a glass of brandy.
Justine opened the door for him and took his coat as he stepped inside the hall. The little maid was slightly out of breath, as though she’d run to meet him at the door. Like a pet, he thought with a smile. He handed her his silver-topped walking stick and she slotted it into the rack with the others.
‘Thank you, Justine,’ he said. As she turned back to him, he reached up to her face, fingering a wisp of dark hair that had come loose from her mob cap. He raised his eyebrows.
She blushed and began smoothing her hair back, tucking the loose strands up under her cap. ‘Sorry, sir. I was upstairs when I heard the coach. I was … blacking the grates.’
‘I see.’ He took her hand and peered closely at the fingers. They were spotless. ‘You can’t have made a very good job of it.’
Again she blushed, lowering her head. Unable to improve on her already poor fabrication, she was silent for several seconds. He took pity on her and laughed, gently smacking the back of her hand. ‘It’s all right, my girl,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You were in my rooms again, weren’t you?’
She