» Reviews «
"Sick, twisted and kinky. Rotham's writing pushes every possible boundary when it comes to sex and the emotion levels are off the charts. If you buy this book, make sure it's for unconventional romance and filth." ~Romantic Times
Five Stars and A Reviewer Top Pick! "A very edgy and intense read that may cause a few eyebrows to raise and faces to blush! The search for a balanced three-way relationship that is described provides a mesmerizing and sensual read." ~Elf, Night Owl Reviews
5 out of 5 Paddles! "I will be reading this book again in the future and recommend this be added to every BDSM book lovers bookshelf, if for no other reason than it is a great story." ~ Iron Mistress, BDSM Book Reviews
"Robin L. Rotham is the new Queen of hardcore BDSM! FRANKENDOM is gorgeous, brilliant, sensual, frightening-the ultimate, kinkily twisted retelling of the classic Frankenstein. Be afraid. Be very afraid." ~Eden Bradley, Author of The Dark Garden
» Blurb «
A brilliant woman, a couple of mad scientists, and an erotic experiment with shocking results…
Vascular surgeon Dr. Rachel McBride knows she’d be insane to pass up the chance to work on Julian Kilmartin’s cutting-edge research project. The reclusive neurologist has been the object of her submissive daydreams since residency, and time and distance have only strengthened the dark compulsion.
To complicate matters, a former lover who was all too aware of her attraction to Julian is also on the team. Charmingly obnoxious Dr. Colin Carter was Julian’s protégé back in the day, and nothing appears to have changed…or has it? There’s an earnestness to Colin now, an urgency she’s never before seen in him.
When she accepts the offer and travels to Eastern Europe, Rachel discovers that research is only part of her job description—and her total submission is only the beginning of the sexual excesses Julian and Colin will demand from her.
Product Warnings
You should assume any Robin L. Rotham book contains BDSM elements, anal play, and every possible ménage ŕ trois permutation. Additionally, FrankenDom contains mad scientists, real dungeons, whips, chains, spanking, a variety of taboo fantasies, mild puppy play, electrical devices in uncomfortable places, humor, and an intimidating ratio of sadists to masochists.
» Relatively Tame Excerpt «
Although I’d gone to sleep at barely nine o’clock the evening before, I woke up late and had to rush to make it to breakfast on time. I didn’t quite make it because my legs were so stiff and sore from the day before, I could barely walk, let alone run.
Julian scowled at me when I limped in. “What time is breakfast served, Rachel?”
“Eight-thirty, Sir, but—” I bit my tongue, refusing to look at Colin. It would have been nice if he’d woken me before he left this morning, but it wasn’t his responsibility.
“But what, slave?”
“Nothing, Sir. It’s my fault. It won’t happen again.”
“Glad to hear it. Now sit down and eat, quickly. Normally I’d make you skip the meal but you missed a meal yesterday so I’ll have to think of some other punishment.”
Sighing with both relief and resignation, I took my seat. “Yes, Sir.”
But things went downhill from there. I’d just taken the first bite of my oatmeal when Julian said, “I assume your workout ran late?”
I closed my eyes. Oh, crap. “No, Sir. I actually didn’t make it to my workout.”
“And why not?” he drawled.
“I forgot all about it, Sir. I don’t usually work out in the morning.” Or anytime.
I braved a glance at him and then wished I hadn’t. He looked annoyed.
“Rachel, I reminded you right before you went to sleep,” Colin said gently.
Gasping, I cried, “You did not!”
He shook his head, giving me a pitying look. “Rachel, did I or did I not say right before you turned out the light that Hans was looking forward to your next workout?”
“Colin! That wasn’t a reminder. You were teas—”
“It sounds like a reminder to me,” Julian said. “I realize that you don’t enjoy working out, Rachel, but it’s not acceptable for you to just not show up. I’m surprised Hans didn’t call to tell me you’d wasted an hour of his time this morning.”
“But Sir—”
“Silence!”
Bristling with annoyance, I shut my mouth.
“Now, you’ll finish your breakfast and go directly to the exercise facilities for your session with Hans. When you’re done, you’ll shower and meet us in the operating room. You will not go anywhere near the hot tub—understood?”
Groaning inwardly, I nodded. I wouldn’t even look at the hot tub, no matter how badly I needed a good, long soak.
It took me forever to limp down to the exercise room, and Hans lectured me for being late, for missing my first appointment, for not stretching before bed and when I got up, and for being generally lazy and out of shape. As if that weren’t torture enough, he worked me harder than he had than the day before, shouting at me in German half the time when I couldn’t keep up the pace he demanded or lift as much weight as he thought I should be able to. When my triceps turned to burning noodles and he sneered at me because I couldn’t do one more rep, I finally snapped.
“Colin told you to take it easy on my arms, you prick!”
“I am taking it easy, you little wienie,” he scoffed.
“Fine. I’m a wienie. A done wienie,” I added, stomping off to the locker room.
At my locker, I stripped as quickly as I could, groaning at the soreness in my legs and abs. I’d absolutely kill for five minutes in the hot tub, but I would have to settle for a hot shower.
I looked around for the towels and finally saw a pile of them on a table between the steam and sauna doors. After I turned on one of the showerheads to let the water warm up, I picked my way gingerly across the cool tile and grabbed two towels off the table.
When I turned around, I ran into Hans and stumbled.
“Whoa!” He tried to catch me, but instead he bumped me right into the hot tub.
As I went under, my mind went ten different directions at once. Julian was going to kill me. Was there any way I could keep him from finding out? Forget it, the guilt would eat me alive. I had to tell him. How long could I possibly stay in here and still consider it an accident? God, it felt so good! My butt still burned more than the rest of me in the hot water, and even that felt good. Colin was going to laugh his ass off when he heard. I still hated Hans. Just two more seconds…
» Kinkier Excerpt«
It was almost a letdown when Dirk turned on his heel and disappeared through the infirmary door.
But I held my breath as Vince prowled toward me with the unblinking intensity of a predator. “Thank you, slave, for failing to cooperate,” he purred. “I do enjoy helping strip a reluctant little sub.”
When he moved behind me, I let out the breath I’d been holding. Then I jumped when he gave the scarf holding back my hair a sharp tug.
“Such pretty dark hair,” he said, winding the navy and hunter green silk around his hand as he came back into view.
Dirk reappeared all too soon, flipping a switch by the door as he walked by. Lights came on the back wall—two heavy wrought-iron sconces with flame-shaped incandescent bulbs. Between them, four chains were bolted to the stone, two long ones up high and two short ones at ankle height. An adjustable black cuff dangled at the end of each.
I put my hands behind me and glanced around for another avenue of escape. There actually was another door cut into the corner, directly in line with the one we’d entered through, but the next room was completely dark. God only knew what might await me that way.
“Are you wearing anything of personal value?” Dirk asked.
“No.” He raised his brow and just stood there until I added, “Sir?”
“Excellent.” When he nodded at Vince, they grabbed my arms and propelled me backward to the wall, completely unaffected by my instinctive struggles. The instant I was spread-eagled in the nicely padded cuffs, something in me…settled. My pulse throbbed slowly, and my chest rose and fell visibly as my breathing deepened. Whatever happened next was no longer up to me. It was scary but at the same time a relief. This was rather what I’d hoped to feel during my one aborted foray into the world of BDSM two years ago, only more so.
While I pondered the feeling, Julian set the clipboard on the lab table and touched something behind Colin that lowered his arms to his sides but didn’t release him. Colin rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms in a mesmerizing display of lean muscle.
I forgot all about everything but Dirk when he held up a scalpel with an evil smile.
The settled feeling vanished like it had never been. “Julian?” I said nervously, unable to take my eyes off the gleaming surgical instrument.
Julian crossed his arms with an uncompromising look. “You asked for this, slave, remember?”
With the cold stone wall behind me and the scalpel in front of me, I drew in another breath and held it, cringing back as Dirk reached out and neatly sliced the top button off my sweater, and then the next one down. Both landed with small tic! sounds on the cold stone floor.
I finally started breathing again—panting, actually—when he lowered the scalpel to the button between my breasts. Against all reason, they swelled anxiously, my nipples prickling and my clit throbbing a drumbeat of fierce arousal.
“Little adrenaline junkie,” Dirk murmured as he flicked the button off.
A puff of laughter escaped me. “Hardly. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”
“And you’re wildly turned on, aren’t you? I’m a surgeon too, you know. Cardiothoracic. You have to be at least a bit of an adrenaline junkie to become a surgeon, I think.” Tic! Another button landed on the floor.
I stared at him, completely confused, and he smiled. “Did you know your irises have almost disappeared, little horny slave?”
Tic, tic, tic…
“Why?” I finally managed to croak.
“Why the deception?” When I nodded, he said, “Because I wanted to see the real Rachel McBride. People tend to be more open around lowly staff. Imagine my dismay when you insulted Julian’s fine home before you’d even set foot inside.”
Heat crept into my cheeks but I couldn’t think of anything to say in my defense. Colin, I’d noticed, was watching Dirk’s progress avidly, and he mouthed bad girl at me before grinning from ear to ear.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
Then Dirk used the scalpel to spread open my sweater, revealing the wrinkled white blouse underneath.
“You dress like a schoolgirl,” he said severely. “And this afternoon you acted like a schoolgirl, saying the first thing that came to your mind without thought for your generous host. You should be disciplined like a schoolgirl, don’t you think, slave?”
Was there a right answer to that?
“Feel free to discipline her in any way you see fit for her poor manners, Dirk.”
I bit my lip, cursing the arousal that slithered through my abdomen.
“Thank you, Julian, I shall do that when I believe she is in the proper headspace to benefit from it.”
“Excellent.”
Dirk pulled my blouse from my skirt and made much better time slicing away its buttons. When he reached my ecru cami, he immediately slid the scalpel underneath and sliced it right down the front. The soft buzz of the fabric parting set my clit on fire.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He pulled the sides of my clothes apart. “Such fine big titten you hide behind all that ugly material!”
I let my head fall back against the wall, breathing heavily. Why, why, why did this turn me on so freaking much? I should hate the things Dirk said to me, about me. I should hate feeling like a sex object—or more to the point, a collection of sex objects.
“I told you,” Colin said, his heavy eyes fixed on the titten in question. His cock, which had been flaccid when I arrived, now stood at stiff attention, booby-trap apparatus and all.
“Colin!” I cried. Was there anything he hadn’t shared about me?
His eyes didn’t move, but he licked his lips. “What?”
Dirk distracted me by taking the handle of the scalpel between his teeth and yanking my bra cups down under my breasts.
I groaned, unnerved and yet unbelievably aroused to be so crudely exposed to the eyes of these men, three of whom I’d never slept with and two of whom I’d never met before today. My nipples were already tight, hard peaks begging for attention—which Dirk provided without hesitation, leaning over to tease them with his hot tongue.
Whimpering, desperately craving more, I pushed forward helplessly and he chuckled. “Your pretty little slut is dripping in her schoolgirl tights, Julian. I can smell it.”
Slut. For just an instant I tensed, but arousal triumphed. “Please.”
“No manners, no patience, and probably no control over her orgasm,” he said scornfully. I was just starting to feel like the worst slave ever when he added, “You have years of intensive training ahead, you lucky bastard.”
“One can only hope,” Julian replied with a grim smile as he walked closer. Gesturing at my chest, he said, “I want this all off.”
At once, Dirk sliced everything above my waist, including my bra, into ribbons.
“Was that really necessary?” I complained as he pulled the pieces off me.
“No, you mouthy little slut, but it was certainly fun,” he said with a smile.
Again the word slut buffeted me, whipping me up like a high wind on water. I bit my tongue. I’m not a slut.
Then Julian touched me for the first time. He laid the fingertips of his long, narrow right hand on my collarbones, letting them rest there for a moment before ghosting them up over my throat and chin to explore the contours of my lips.
Then he laid both hands on my waist. “Kiss me, Rachel.”
All the breath rushed out of me and my heart thumped crazily while I stared at him as if I’d never seen him before. Which I hadn’t, at least not from this close and not in any circumstances where I felt free to study him. His face was much larger than I’d imagined, his bold nose longer, his chiseled lips fuller and the cleft in his stubborn chin deeper. It was a distinguished face. A heroic face.
A face I had permission to kiss.
Before he had a chance to change his mind, I stood on my toes and pressed my hungry mouth to his.
