Lust Ever After. Rose Fer de

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      ‘Dear me,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘This won’t do at all.’

      The little maid looked instantly alarmed, fearful she’d done something wrong. ‘Sir?’

      ‘You are not appropriately prepared.’

      She blinked, not comprehending.

      ‘All my patients must be shaved,’ he explained, ‘for reasons of safety and hygiene. You can hardly expect me to probe and stroke and treat the nether parts of you in anything like the detail you need if they are concealed.’

      Without waiting for a response, he fetched his shaving things. Of course, the procedure wasn’t necessary at all; it was just his preference. He liked to see everything. Most women found the experience highly erotic, although naturally they tried to pretend they were merely obeying his obscure orders.

      The shaving also served another purpose. It ensured that a lady would show herself to no one else, not even another physician. It was as good as a mark of ownership. In this case it would give Justine extra incentive to see that Ralph kept his hands to himself. At least until the hair grew back. Then he would have to contrive an excuse to shave her again.

      Justine’s eyes widened as she saw the straight razor. ‘Will it hurt?’ she asked.

      He smiled. ‘Not if you’re a good girl and hold very still for me.’ Then he set about daubing her with shaving soap.

      She jumped a little at the first touch of the brush but after that she didn’t move. He coaxed her legs wide apart and painted her sex with lather. He couldn’t resist pressing the soft bristles well up against her, which elicited a little moan. Her thighs relaxed and her legs opened wider still, like the petals of a hungry flower spreading itself for the rays of the sun.

      ‘Now I want you to be perfectly still, Justine,’ he said. ‘You will be still, won’t you?’

      ‘Yes, sir,’ came the breathless whisper.

      Oh yes, she was ready.

      He bent over her and slowly drew the blade down over her pubic mound, carving a path through the lather. She gasped and he placed the fingers of his left hand firmly on the vulnerable pink skin he had just revealed, a silent command not to move. Gooseflesh rose on her thighs and she shivered slightly. He wiped the blade clean and swept it through another patch of foam.

      This was an especially intimate ritual among the many in his repertoire and he took his time over it. He loved the entire process of unveiling. For him it was more art than science. As the blade rasped and the dark curls fell away he was treated to a sight few men ever got to see – a woman’s sex, wholly uncovered and exposed for his eyes, his hands, his instruments. The ultimate submissive offering.

      Holding her skin taut, he slid the razor up each inner thigh, angling each stroke in to the centre point of her sex. He carefully trimmed away everything that might obscure his view. Nothing must remain but her perfect mound, silky and smooth.

      It was over far too quickly, both for him and for Justine, whose breathing had grown fast and shallow. Once, she had lifted her head to peer down at what he was doing, then blushed and looked away, clasping her hands at her breast. With all the hair removed he could easily see the reason for her embarrassment: she was exceedingly wet. It was all he could do not to dip his finger inside. Instead he made do with towelling her dry and dabbing at her in such a way as to produce more of those charming little gasps and sighs.

      ‘There,’ he said triumphantly. ‘That’s much better.’

      She glanced down and her mouth fell open in mute surprise as she saw herself clearly for the first time.

      ‘Now we can proceed.’

      He pressed a button at the end of the table and the engine whirred to life, rumbling beneath it. Justine jumped a little at the vibrations and then began to smile.

      ‘It’s very pleasant, sir,’ she said. ‘Like riding on the train.’

      He smiled at her naïveté. ‘Oh, that’s not all.’

      He allowed himself a final lingering look at her before proceeding to the next step. The business end of the machine was a small device, about the size and shape of an egg, attached to a hinged metal arm. He lowered the buzzing attachment and rested it against Justine’s bare sex. She gave a little cry of surprise as the powerful vibrations began to pulse through her. No, she hadn’t been expecting that. None of them ever knew what they were in for.

      Adopting his most soothing voice, he told her to relax, to submit to the device. Her face took on a familiar dreamy cast as her body realised what was happening and she sank into the pleasure. Everything was centred on that one small part of her and it quickly became her whole world.

      How delightful it was to watch the play of emotions across a woman’s face the first time she felt those vibrations! Naturally, some ladies were too repressed to let go, despite his constant reassurances. There was no impropriety, he was a medical man, it was all for their own good. Sometimes none of it could break through the barrier. Such women seemed determined to suffer, to deny themselves pleasure, even in the form of alleged clinical relief.

      Justine was an excellent subject. He had tricked her into it so there need be no guilt on her part. And she clearly had a sensual nature; shaving her had shown him that quite plainly. Now she was rocking her hips back and forth to get the most out of the experience. In time, he could introduce her to other devices, other pleasures. He had no doubt that she would prove a very eager pupil.

      As he sensed her nearing the peak, he turned a knob to increase the speed. Her fingers clutched the edges of the table and she raised her hips, forcing her pelvis roughly against the source of the pleasure until she gave a wild cry as the wave of spasms overtook her. Then she collapsed, gasping and panting, dazed and spent.

      Smiling, Frankenstein shut off the machine and tidied up while she recovered, her legs still splayed, her face flushed and blissful. When she still hadn’t moved after several minutes, he gently drew her skirt down, reluctantly concealing her charms. That seemed to wake her up. She covered her face with her hands as though trying to force her smile into hiding.

      ‘Well, my girl, I trust you feel suitably rewarded?’

      She nodded, amazement painting her features. ‘Oh sir, I’ve never felt such … It was …’

      ‘I know. It cures all manner of ills. Now perhaps you understand why the treatment is so popular.’

      ‘I do indeed, sir. I had no idea!’

      He helped her up and she stumbled a little as she tried to stand. It was another sight he relished. After soaring with euphoria, they found it a challenge to return to solid ground. Ah, such power he had! In some bygone era he would have been the village’s medicine man, the wise and mysterious enchanter to whom all the women were in thrall.

      Justine gazed blankly around the room, still lost to the unfamiliar sensations. He’d awakened every nerve ending in her body, assaulting her with pleasure and now she seemed overwhelmed.

      He decided to give her the evening off, even though he knew she might waste it on the butcher’s boy. In fact, Frankenstein rather hoped Ralph would see a change in his little conquest and realise that he was a poor second to whatever her master had done to her.

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