in the doorway as he withdrew a set of keys and unlocked his consulting room, then beckoned her further, as though into a sinister lair. He smiled at the thought, for in a way it was exactly that. Certain of the ladies he saw were under no illusion about what was really going on, but the majority of them had been so conditioned by prudish society as to genuinely believe there was nothing sexual in what he did to them. One day the world would catch on and his little speciality would come to an end. Until then, however, he intended to exploit it to the fullest.
Justine plucked at her skirt, nervously peering around at the cabinets and cupboards. He adjusted the gas lamp and moved deeper into the room, to the inner sanctum, the chamber in which the beast slept, awaiting another victim.
‘Sir, I’m not sure I should …’
Frankenstein returned to her and took her gently by the shoulders, offering her his most charming smile. Doubtless she feared he would persuade her out of her clothes again, a thought he couldn’t deny had crossed his mind. ‘Justine,’ he said, ‘we both know you’ve been in here before without my permission. Didn’t I say when I hired you that I needed a girl I could trust?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now, I don’t mind that you’re inquisitive, but that doesn’t give you leave to snoop.’
A delicate frown creased her features and she bit her lip. ‘No, sir,’ she mumbled.
‘I’ve never expressly forbidden you to come in here when I’m away – you certainly know where the spare key is kept – but I shouldn’t have thought it necessary. Good little chambermaids do not go sneaking around in their master’s private rooms.’
Although he spoke softly, smiling indulgently all the while, the girl was writhing in a horror of delicious embarrassment. He wondered if she could see how hard it was making him, or indeed if she had sufficient knowledge to recognise such things. Ralph had surely tried, by less eloquent means, to manoeuvre the girl into a compromising position. If so, he had clearly been unsuccessful. Such a rascal would be gone like a shot afterwards and never seen again.
‘It was very naughty of you, wasn’t it?’
Mortified, she couldn’t meet his eyes. He was so close he was sure he could smell her arousal, soft and spicy. She trembled like a rabbit caught in a trap, vulnerable and completely available to him. The girl was so naturally submissive that the very thought of disappointing her master would be a torment for her. If he kept it up much longer, he would reduce her to tears. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her head.
‘But we were talking about a reward,’ he said kindly. ‘Weren’t we?’
She relaxed at once, a sheepish grin spreading across her features. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘I trust you to look after my needs, so it’s only fair I should trust you with my secrets as well. And I think you deserve to know what goes on. What could possibly be improper about that?’
‘I just wasn’t sure that Ralph would approve of his future wife knowing about – well, certain things …’
Ah, so the scoundrel saw him as a threat, did he? Well, perhaps one seducer could recognise another, but Frankenstein was far more accomplished at this game than he was. There was no way he was going to allow that insolent pup to spoil his lovely Justine.
‘I see,’ he said sadly. ‘So it’s fine for a maid to nose around where she isn’t allowed but when her master trusts her enough to show her himself …’
Her hands flew to her mouth to stifle a little gasp of horror. ‘Oh no, sir! I didn’t mean … I just …’
‘Very well,’ he shrugged, returning the keys to his pocket and turning to leave. ‘I had no idea you had such a low opinion of me, Justine.’
He had to suppress a grin at the miserable sniffle he heard behind him as he walked away. If there was one thing an honest girl couldn’t bear, it was the thought that she had broken someone’s trust.
‘Sir?’ she said at last, her voice wavering.
He turned back to her, his loins twitching with the sense of imminent victory.
She offered him a meek little smile as she moved towards the door of the private chamber. ‘Please forgive me, sir. I was being foolish.’
Frankenstein smiled. Sometimes it was just too easy. He unlocked the door and led her into the darkened chamber.
After a long silence, she asked, ‘Is that it?’
‘The Alleviator,’ he said with pride. ‘Indeed it is.’
He could tell from her face that it was nothing like she had imagined. How often had ladies told him they’d been expecting something huge and fearsome? A massive steam-driven automaton that would violently pound the nervous energy out of them and leave them feeling plundered? He was fascinated by the wild fancies that seemed equal parts fear and desire. What strange creatures women were, really.
‘The patient lies here,’ he explained, touching the padded surface of the table, ‘and the motor is concealed beneath.’
Justine dropped to her knees to peer under the table, gazing at the device and trying to guess how it worked. He knew she would never ask him outright.
‘Would you like to see how it works?’
She jumped as if he’d read her mind and cast her eyes down shyly, her silence all the answer he needed. It was another thing he’d learnt in his dealings with women; they so often needed the illusion of coercion or even force to ease their sense of shame. He had become a master at such games and found that the intricate manoeuvring only added to the fun.
He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her up onto the table. She uttered a little squeak of surprise but didn’t protest.
‘And now you must lie back,’ he said, pushing her down with a hand against her breastbone.
She resisted only for a moment before letting him lower her into position. If she was surprised that he hadn’t asked her to undress she didn’t let on. He had, after all, assured her that it was all entirely proper. A lady didn’t have to be naked to allow access and he was very careful about which ones he demanded it of. All it took was one knowing husband and the whole lucrative venture would be ruined. Today he merely wanted to give Justine a taste, enough to whet her appetite for more. He was determined that in time she would learn to ask for what she wanted.
She blinked in surprise as he gathered her skirt and raised it to her waist before she could object. But she was cowed by her earlier reluctance and, although she stiffened a little at the exposure, she lay still.
‘Good girl. And now if you’ll just part your legs, just a bit …’
She closed her eyes and did as she was told. Underneath she wore the customary open-seam drawers. The garment clothed each leg to the knee, but the legs were separately stitched to the drawstring at the waist, allowing for easy access to the exposed crotch. He had provided them along with her uniform, but he had treated her (and himself) to a fashionable frill of lace at the kneebands. A bit above a maid’s station, but who would ever see but him? Well, perhaps that wretched Ralph …
Justine trembled as he firmly
