It's Alive

It’s Alive!

It was a dark and stormy night. Lightning flashed near the towers of Castle Frankenstein. Rain lashed the roof, running along gutters, and out of the mouths of stone gargoyles. A couple of seconds thunder rolled.

   Deep in the dungeon of Castle Frankenstein Victoria Frankenstein worked. It was a dungeon no more. Gone had the wooden rack and the chains and other accoutrements associated with the infliction of pain. The former dungeon had been transformed into a shiny laboratory, full of strange mechanical and electrical devices. A difference engine stood against one wall, the cogs moving as it cogitated a mathematical problem. Electricity sparked between two Tesla towers. The wires from the towers led to a tall, stone slab. On that slab there was an unmoving form. It stood more than six feet tall, and was entirely nude, revealing what looked like the scars of vivisection on the naked form. But this had been vivisection in reverse, the body assembled from a collection of disparate parts. The unmoving creation had the well-muscled body of a former circus strongman; the sensitive hands of a pianist; and the foot long penis of one of the world’s greatest lovers. All had been put together by the mad Baroness Frankenstein.

   Victoria Frankenstein stood next to the stone slab holding her creation. She was in her thirties, now, but with a strand of pure white running through her long raven hair. She wore black leather riding boots; brown jodhpurs which were tight on her perfect derriere; and a lacy white frock shirt. Over what she hoped was a sexy ensemble she wore a white laboratory coat. She waited for her creation to live. It should live. All that it was missing was that vital spark of vim to restore it to a semblance of life.

   “More power, Igor!” she shouted.

   “Yeth, Mithtreth.” the hunch-backed Igor lisped. He shambled over to a bank of controls, and pulled down three levers, one after the other. All of the power available went into the body. But it was not enough to restart the dead heart.

   Just then a bolt of lightning struck a rod on the roof of the castle. A million volts surged down a wire from the roof into the laboratory, through the bank of equipment, and into the monstrous body. The lightning blew out the machine, and every electrical system through which it had gone. The lights went out in the laboratory, plunging it into utter darkness.

   “Wurrh…” There was a moan in the room. It hadn’t come from Victoria Frankenstein. It hadn’t come from the long-suffering Igor.

   “Lights, Igor, I must see!” Victoria Frankenstein shouted. She could rarely form a sentence which didn’t end in an exclamation mark.

   “Yeth, Mithreth.” Igor sighed. He had liked the old days better, before all of this new-fangled electricity and flashing diodes. They’d had a proper dungeon back then, where Victoria’s father had imprisoned fair maidens who had attracted him, although they had not been all that fair after a few days on the torture equipment. Oh, Igor had seen many fantastic things in the dungeon, as he had assisted the old Baron. But the old Baron was dead, having suffered a heart attack while raping some zaftig mädchen.

   Igor lit an old oil-powered lamp. He knew his way around the laboratory by heart, not really needing his eyes to get around. He turned up the light on the lamp.

   The monster was no longer dead. Its massive chest was going up and down as it breathed.

   “It’s alive!” Victoria Frankenstein shouted.

   Igor winced. He wished that his Mithreth – sorry, Mistress – wouldn’t shout so much. It really wasn’t necessary. He might have a hunchback and a wall eye, but there was nothing wrong with his hearing.

   “You may leave us, Igor.” Baroness Frankenstein declared. “Leave the light.”

   Igor shook his head. He put the oil lamp down, and left the dungeon. Sex, sex, sex, that was all the Frankensteins were interested in. When was he going to get some? Igor disappeared back to his garret room, and his collection of pornographic woodcuts.

   Meanwhile, back in the underground laboratory, Victoria Frankenstein was hoping to get some – basically, some of that twelve inch cock. Her monster should be able to keep going for as long as she desired. And she had a lot of desires.

   “Up!” she commanded. The creature appeared to understand her, as it got up after the slab. It, new-born – new re-born – to the world, was still a little unsteady on its feet.

   “Where… am… I?” It asked. Its spoke only slowly, and with obvious difficulty, as though it was trying to remember how to speak. It had no memories, in fact, except of darkness. It could not recall is life before, or how it had come to this place. But it knew that it was alive, and that it was a woman in front of him. That much he knew.

   “I will call you Adam – Adam Priapus.” Baroness Frankenstein said, ignoring the question. She took off her white lab coat, and flaunted her sexy body in front of the creature. “Am I not desirable? And now you get to fuck me. There are many men who would die to fuck a body like this one.”

   The creature, of course, had done exactly that. But he was alive now, and memories of desire began to filter through to his reanimated brain. There were first twitchings in his massive cock.

   “Ah, you need more help.” Victoria said. As thunder rolled above her castle she stripped off her lacy shirt, revealing her perfect breasts. It was a little cool in the laboratory, and her light brown nipples harden.

   “Breasts…” the monster said. He remembered breasts. He had liked breasts. More blood flowed into his foot long dong.

   “Not just breasts.” Victoria said. She pulled off her boots, and then her jodhpurs. She had not been wearing any underwear; and she had shaved off all of her pubic hair. She thought that it was sexier that way. A scent of her arousal filled the laboratory. She was dripping, her mind full of thoughts of being stretched by that massive cock.

   The creature’s cock was now semi-erect. But something that size does not get erect instantly. Victoria reached down, and began to masturbate the penis. The Monster, named Adam Priapus, grunted with pleasure. It felt good. It brought back memories from a different existence, back when it had been alive for the first time. More resurrected blood flowed into the massive organ. It became almost as hard as rock.

   “Come with me.” Victoria Frankenstein said. Despite her need she did not intend to make love in that cold and draughty underground chamber. She walked up into the main body of the castle. The thunder still rolled, and the lightning still crashed, outside its stone walls. The creature, inflamed by desire, followed Victoria as she led him to her bedchamber. He was thinking with his cock. No other thoughts apart from rutting entered his head, and the brain that had been dead.

   The bedchamber was luxurious, with a massive, four poster bed.

   “Lie down on the bed on your back.” Victoria commanded. The monster did as he had been instructed. His deep-set eyes were alive with animal desire.

   Victoria produced thick leather bands and chained her monster to the posts of the bed. The monster was strong, and she had no desire to be accidentally harmed in its throes of passion. It would be she who would be in control. The monster didn’t seem to care, not as long as something was done about his massive erection. And he was about to get his wish.

   Victoria mounted the monster, and slowly slid the tip of the foot long penis into her sopping cunt. She gasped as its girth parted her labia. She wanted as much of that cock as her body could take. Slowly she worked herself up and down on the cock, until all but the last couple of inches penetrated her. She had never been so full before. The cock reached areas that had never been reached before. The monster groaned in pleasure.

   Victoria increased the speed at which she bobbed up and down on the monstrous cock. She was approaching her orgasm – as was the monster on which she rode. Faster and faster she went on the thick cock. It had been worth it all. And then, suddenly, both she and the monster came. Victoria screamed and almost fainted, as thick, white sperm jetted up deep inside her.

Later, as Victoria lay with her head on her creation’s powerful chest, she thought to the future, and her other dark desires. According to the peasants there was a werewolf running wild in the Schwarzwald. She had seen dogs mate, and how they could cum for ages, locked together. She wondered whether werewolves were the same…

The End