Free FrankenDom by Robin L. Rotham Page A

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.
    When he nodded, Dirk turned the wand back on and stood there holding it.
    Julian reached out and trailed the fingers of one hand ever-so-lightly down my ribs,
     and I inhaled sharply as tickly shocks of sensation zapped me. Holy Christ, he’d electrified
     himself.
    He did it over and over, painting my ribs, my abdomen, the insides of my arms and
     my armpits with continuous streams of little shocks while I gasped and giggled, jerking
     in my bonds.
    “Hold still, slave, or I’ll have to tighten your restraints.”
    “I’m trying, Sir,” I defended. When he just looked at me, I steeled myself. “Okay,
     holding still.”
    “I think you’ll enjoy this,” Julian said. Then he brushed my stiff nipples with his
     index fingers.
    I jerked hard. “Oh my God.”
    The stream of hot, tingly sensation was unbelievable, drawing the mysterious connection
     between my nipples and my clit tighter and tighter.
    He pulled his fingers bare millimeters away and the shocks became more intense as
     he traced them in tiny circles. It felt like he was poking my nipples with hot needles
     and twisting them at the same time, and I cried out, trying to back up, to pull away.
    But Julian just chuckled and followed me. There was no getting away, no way around
     the intriguing pain except through it, and I felt something settle inside me again,
     deeper this time. My eyelids grew heavy as I sank into the biting flood of sensation.
     God, it was beginning to hurt really good. I wanted more.
    He pulled his hands away and I watched passively, feeling only floating curiosity,
     as he leaned down and traced the perimeter of my nipple with his stiffened tongue.
     At first it was just warm and deliciously wet, but then he inched backward and the
     sensation grew knife-like.
    I cringed away, crying, “Ow, ow, ow!”
    Immediately he backed off, only to inflict the same wet torture on the other side.
    “Ow, ow, Julian, please!”
    He touched both nipples with his fingers, tugging lightly.
    “Better?” he asked.
    Sagging with relief to be back to the good pain, I murmured, “Mmm, much.”
    I looked down at my nipples, expecting them to be bright red, if not smoking after
     their ordeal, but they looked completely normal. It was almost disappointing. If I
     had to suffer that kind of discomfort, shouldn’t there be evidence of