Love Bound Read Free Page A

felt his excitement growing again.
    “There are other ways,” he said
softly. “Ways I’ve developed here at the institute.”
    She looked at him eagerly. “Yes? There
are?”
    “Stand up,” he said.
    April was unable to take her eyes from
him. She swallowed heavily.
    “Come here, Miss Carnovan.”
    She stood. When she walked across the
room towards him it was as if she were gliding, pulled towards him on invisible
strings.
    She went to him and he opened her arms
to her, and with the softest of sighs she fell into his embrace.
    “Doctor, please…” she began, but his
lips came down on hers again, silencing her words.
    He kissed her and she didn’t resist.
Again he felt the feverish heat build up in her body. She melted against him,
her body molding to his, and the feel of her need and her soft vulnerability
made his cock brutally hard. He had no compunction about thrusting himself
against her firm thigh, letting her feel his own need for her, and he smiled
inwardly as he heard her groan submissively deep in her throat, her body
responding to the exciting pressure of his member against her. He slid his
hands down to her tiny waist and held her against him as they kissed and he
feasted on her mouth. The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the
clock, the rustle of her dress under his hands, and the soft, pleading mewls of
entreaty that issued from her throat.
    When he let her go she was panting,
and her voice shook as she said, “Whatever you want, Doctor. Whatever you say
to do, I’ll do. Help me, please. I’m on fire.”
    “Come with me.”
    He led her from the room and down a
corridor to large locked door near the pantry. He unlocked the door with a key
from his ring, lit the kerosene lantern that stood nearby, and, taking the
lantern in one hand and her wrist in the other, led her through the door and
down the ancient stone steps to the basement below.
    “My laboratory,” he explained. “Where
I do all my research. In cases like yours, there’s only one effective
treatment. It is difficult, and you must obey me implicitly, but it is the only
thing that is sure to work.”
    He led her through the basement, past
rooms that contained scientific instruments and chemist’s glassware. She caught
sight of books and strange things in glass jars, a skeleton, bunches of dried
plants hanging from the beams in the ceilings; strange charts and occult
diagrams on the walls. Apparently, research into the female orgasm was a
recondite and complex undertaking.
    He stopped by another door and had her
hold the lantern high in her trembling hand as he undid the double locks. He
opened the door, took the light, and led her inside.
    The room was large, windowless, and
paneled in dark wood with a Persian carpet on the floor. The Doctor lit the gas
lamps on the wall and April looked around in disbelief.
    She had never seen furniture like this
before: there was a bed with a metal frame that she recognized well enough, but
also a straight-backed, very heavy chair with straps attached to the arms and
legs; a sort of pillory padded in black leather; frames and stools upholstered
in leather and set with chains and silver eye-bolts whose use she could only
wonder at. There were candelabra set about the place, and tables bearing
lengths of rope and chain and other hardware, clips and pulleys and small
clamps. He led her to a wall and her eyes widened to see manacles affixed to
the paneling on short, stout, chains.
    “Doctor! My God! What is this? It
looks like a medieval torture chamber.”
    He stopped and caught her with his
eyes, intense now. “Do you trust me?” he asked.
    “Yes, of course. But…”
    “Then give me your hand.”
    With a sharp click he closed the
manacle on her wrist, pinioning her hand to the wall at shoulder level. Then he
did the other.
    He stood back and looked at her with a
critical eye, then took off his coat and threw it over a chair and took a
moment to run his fingers through his thick hair.