Frankengeld Pt 14

Previously in Frankengeld. Damion and Helena have attended the first meeting of the Mystery Club. The members have decided they want more clues so it has been agreed that members will seek these out. Damion and Helena to look for the fateful letter, Poppy and Philip for the location of the cart, and Freida to ascertain the crime scene. Lord Philip explained why he was in self exile, Madam Minna gratified herself in the privy with Damion, and when Damion and Helena got home they found a very drunk Dr. Hoffer on the doorstep!

Now read on...

12th June, in the year 1784, in the late evening.

Hoffer looked at me with rage, as if that - in itself - was sufficient to make me abandon my medical practice and leave Carlsbruck in terror.

"No patients of yours have been stolen!" I said, calmly. "All my patients until now, except one, have belonged to old Doctor Karsten's, or are new to this area."

"This town has enough doctors," Hoffer wailed. "You arrive here and increase the number, so others must lose their income."

"You are in error, sir," I replied. I had him on logic, though sadly logic rarely works on a drunk. "With the sad death of Doctor Karsten there are exactly the same number of doctors now as before I arrived."

"I know you have seen at least one of my patients," he snarled. "She has told me. And there may be others you have purloined who would not so readily admit their foolishness."

That was the nub of it, and the reason he was so angry. He was, I believed, talking about Gerda. Loosing her might mean others would follow her lead. I decided to go on the offensive and finish this unpleasant conversation. "The right of a patient for a second opinion is enshrined in our ethical code," I reminded him. "The lady you are talking about revealed much about your behaviour towards her. Behaviour that I would share with my father."

"You would not dare!" he spluttered, spraying me with spittle.

"Sir," I continued, despite the unwelcome shower. "I would consider it my duty, since she is his daughter, and the hope of the future of his lineage."

"This is... I must object... I... I..." Hoffer blustered.

"And sir," I lowered my voice, getting close to his ear. "If you do not want me to inform all these onlookers as to the extent of your malpractice you had best go home. Now."

There was nothing Hoffer could do. He could have accused me of slander if I had told all in the street, but I was confident that he would not want a legal hearing, and that anyway I would win the case. The image of Gerda delightedly informing the judge and jury of all the juicy details of her examination by this crow filled my mind and made me secretly smile.

He staggered away down the street, muttering to himself. I felt a little sorry for him. His fear of loosing his patients, which precipitated this incident, was likely to have exactly the effect he was worried about. I cringed as he nearly careened into a late night horseman, causing the horse to shy at his flapping gown. The horseman swore at him but controlled his horse with great skill and avoided harm, and Hoffer. Then my rival staggered around the corner at the far end of the street and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Back inside we relaxed a little.

"Your family will know of it?" I grinned at Helena, quoting her comment at Hoffer when he accused her of being my whore. She had used the family name I had invented for her, and pretended to be upper class.

Helena waved at Anya, her sisters, Una, Yani and I.

"You're my family," she said. "The only one I have. And I would certainly tell you."

"I think," I laughed. "The lessons with Freida are already bearing fruit."

"They are very fruitful," she grinned secretively then looked serious. "I thought you were going to hit him."

"Yes," I admitted. "Foolish of me, for that would have been a very bad move. He would have had the right to demand a duel. And even a drunkard can have a lucky shot."

"I would fight the duel for you," said Helena. "Stripped like Lady Sarah. He would not win for he would be much distracted by my swinging breasts." She danced around the table pretending to wield a sword and making the most erotic movements with her chest.

Una took her leave of us and went to bed, looking strangely frustrated by Helena's mention of her breasts, and the dance. Yani also looked very puzzled at this development, he left us to escort Anya's sisters home. This left me confused, should I lock up now, or leave the key with Anya? She resolved the dilemma for me, "Yani is to spend the night with my sisters. He is to be of service to them, for they have no man about the house."

Helena and I understood completely what that service might be. He was a very attentive nephew, and should be commended for his efforts. And we were also anxious to retire to bed. Undressing, I discovered I still had breasts and, when I turned away from the wardrobe, I found Helena watching with great interest.

My breasts seemed to make her pleasure that evening even greater, for some reason. She insisted that I lay on my back so that she could ride my member and look at, and fondle, them. She leant forwards at one point and by sliding along my torso was able to rub her breasts against mine. The sensation was astonishing, and I believe at one point I had a climax without ejaculation, which I did not think was possible. Eventually we exhausted ourselves and I lay trying to imagine how I might write this up for the medical journals.

"Did you have a good time?" said Helena.

"That was lovely, yes Helena," I replied.

"No... not just now," she retorted. "Though it is nice to know I give you pleasure. No, I was talking about this evening."

"Oh," I said. "Yes, I was reassured that the Mystery Club will discover the truth of the old doctor's disappearance. And Lord Philip's tale was very entertaining."

"That is also good to know," said Helena, grinning. "But what I meant was did you have a good time pleasuring Madam Minna?"

"Ah... yes,... I did," I admitted. How did she know what we had done? I was about to try to explain why I had allowed the intercourse but Helena put a finger across my lips to indicate that there was no need to speak. Then she settled down, and I put out the light.

I lay awake in the dark worrying about various problems then, in the early hours of the morning, my breasts deflated. Helena reached out sleepily, felt my chest, groaned in disappointment, and went back to sleep. And so, finally, did I.

13th June, in the year 1784.

I woke up this morning determined to do better than yesterday. I decided my watchword today would be... Professional.

Yesterday, I accidentally swallowed some of Madam Schwartz's elixir which gave me breasts. And I carelessly allowed some preparation to splash on my hand, giving me an erection that was so hard it was embarrassing. Both of these events threatened to reduce my life to chaos, though I will admit they seemed to please Helena, and my breasts caused some hilarity to my other servants.

Today I will try to be more careful.

I dressed, taking great delight that I no longer needed the cloth strap across my chest. I, once again, fitted my shirt perfectly. Then I descended to the kitchen for some breakfast. My staff seemed to be energised with the same spirit of professionalism. Yani was sweeping the outside steps, Anya was making the treatment rooms and my study spotless, and Una was preparing breakfast for us all.

My task today was to go through the large pile of correspondence that old Doctor Karsten left in the study. Somewhere in that pile should be the letter that sent him out that fateful night. But my patients came first, there was plenty of time before the next meeting of the Mystery Club. I sat and ate my breakfast quietly then took up my usual seat in my study.

I saw three patients in quick succession, each had simple needs, easily met. I allowed myself to think that I was a boon to the town of Carlsbruck and this feeling somewhat assuaged my guilt at whatever had happened to the old doctor and his daughter.

The next patient was greeted by Helena like a long lost friend. I could hear the joyous tone of voice, even if the words were muffled by the solid oak panelling of our abode. Then came the knock.

"Enter," I replied.

To my great surprise the next patient was a fit and healthy young man, being led by Sophie. The delectable Sophie. The wonderful Sophie.

I had met Sophie on the memorable journey home from Engolstadt to Carlsbruck and she had mentioned at the time that she had a brother. Upon seeing the couple I wondered if this man was he. Helena saw the pair in and retreated, closing the door. She gave a little, reluctant, backwards glance that suggested to me she wanted to socialise more with Sophie. But she was being professional, the treatment came first.

"Herr doctor Frankengeld," Sophie said, a look of concern on her face. "I beg of you to help me... to help Sebastian."

The last time she had asked me for help was a request to open the shutters in her tavern room. I had sprung to her aid then, and would gladly assist her now. To be honest, if she asked me to stand between her and a charging wild boar I would do it.

"What is the problem?" I asked, inviting the pair to sit. Sophie complied but Sebastian remained standing, looking a little bemused.

"Sebastian was attacked three nights ago," said Sophie, glancing in worry at her brother. "At the time we thought little of it but since then he has displayed alarming symptoms."

I grabbed my stethoscope and moved to examine her brother.

"What sort of attack?" I asked Sebastian.

It was Sophie who replied, "I cannot get him to say, but he was savaged by some creature and there was much blood on his clothes."

I checked Sebastian's vital signs and examined his eyes which were rheumy and seemed strangely emotional. He looked at Sophie, and then myself, with a devoted expression.

"How do you feel?" I asked him, enunciating each word slowly and carefully.

"Rough!" came the reply.

"Sophie," I said. "Please help me remove his shirt."

She applied delicate but strong fingers and soon his shirt was put aside. I found myself having a daydream where her elegant fingers were divesting me of my clothes. A wonderful dream, that needed to wait, first... the patient.

Sebastian had a network of scars on his back, raking parallel gouges from claw or teeth. And one in particular that looked like a five pointed star where a deep bite had clearly been delivered. There were also some abrasions on his chest that looked like he had been dragged across a rough surface.

"What did this?" I asked Sebastian, pointing at the scars on his back but got no response. I tried again, this time indicating the abrasions on his chest, "What about these?"

"Bark," he replied.

So, it looked like he'd been attacked by an animal, probably from behind, dragged across the ground and over the branch or roots of a tree. He was sufficiently traumatized to be reduced to single word replies. Unless, of course, he was always this taciturn.

His vital signs were strong so I started to clean the wounds on his back. Luckily the majority were not showing evidence of infection, indeed they were healing very quickly and were much more advanced in recovery than I would have expected if the attack had only been three days ago. Only the star shaped wound was concerning. This was red and sensitive, and when I touched it Sebastian yelped. The strange wound was vaguely familiar, I was sure I had seen a picture of the like, or read about it, somewhere.

"Please wait a moment," I said to Sebastian and, giving a hopefully reassuring smile to Sophie, I went into the treatment room where my small library of medical books were kept. It was my copy of Natura Supernatus I was looking for. The tome was old, seventeenth century, printed in 1632, if I recalled correctly. And it was obsolete as regards most treatments, but I was sure I'd seen a drawing of a wound such as Sebastian displayed in this book.

I returned with the book and witnessed an extraordinary scene. Helena had entered my office bearing refreshments for our patients. She didn't normally do this but was obviously curious about Sophie's brother, and interested in renewing her relationship with Sophie herself. She was stood, holding the tray, and Sebastian was clinging onto her skirts and rubbing the side of his head on her hip. A most unusual behaviour for someone who had not been formally introduced to my assistant, but he didn't seem to be doing any harm so I let them continue.

I sat back at my desk opened my book and, leafing through, found the page, the woodcut picture, and the accompanying text I was seeking. Things became more clear. It was time for an experiment to confirm the diagnosis. I looked up at my assistant, who was trying to look unmoved with a patient rubbing his cheek against her hip. "Helena," I commanded. "Please be so kind as to remove yourself a metre from Sebastian and put down the tray of refreshments."

Helena looked back at me, unsure if this was criticism, but was reassured by my smile. She moved away, and put the tray down. Sebastian gave a little whimper.

"Now Helena," I continued. "Lift your skirts and display some thigh to our patient, if you please."

She looked puzzled, but complied. She reached down to the hem of her skirt, grasped it, and slowly raised it to her hip. Her attractive leg was revealed, made even more attractive by the red garter she now wore above her knee. Sophie looked baffled, and was about to say something, but I silenced her with a gesture of my hand. I concentrated on Sebastian's reactions to this temptation.

He sat motionless for a moment, then started to twitch, and then he jumped at Helena. Squatting by her, he placed his thighs either side of her leg and proceeded to rub his crotch against her. His arms grasped her waist to prevent her from escaping and he panted vigorously, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

The diagnosis was confirmed. I turned to Sophie, "Your brother has a form of lycanthropy," I explained. "He has, I believe, been bitten by a weredog."

"A weredog!" she replied, looking shocked. "Are you sure?"

"It could have been a werewolf," I admitted. "But the activity of their victims is known to be confined to nights of the full moon, and Sebastian has symptoms now, in the daytime, when the moon is merely one quarter. So I think it is the lesser infection."

Sebastian at this stage had rubbed himself into an erection which was very visible through his tight trousers. I needed to rescue my assistant before she was ravished and gave birth to a litter of little weredogs.

"Sebastian," I called. He turned to glance at me. "Please come and sit down while we discuss your treatment."

His gaze rested on me for a moment then he turned back to continue humping Helena's leg. This was becoming a problem as he dragged at her décolletage, trying to expose her breasts. It would only take Helena to start to feel passionate and this whole situation could become very messy, very quickly. I decided I must be firm.

"Sebastian!" I snapped. "Sit!"

He sat down, suddenly alert, and watching me intently as if waiting for the next command.

"Stay!" I said, with a no-nonsense tone. Then I turned to Sophie, "He needs treatment, and very soon, or the transformation will be permanent. My book suggests some possibilities."

Sophie glanced at the pages and recoiled in horror. She had seen the treatment described as 'decapitare', effective in that the person was no longer a weredog, but not helpful in that the person was 'cured' because their head had been removed. I put my hand on hers to reassure her that I would not be pursuing such a drastic course of treatment.

"I will introduce a silver compound into the primary wound. That should work," I assured her. "Wait here while I prepare the medicine."

I left them in my study and, after asking Helena to keep an eye on them, retreated to the laboratory. It took a few minutes to find and prepare the necessary ingredients. It could be applied to the wound as a paste but it would be more effective, and a lot quicker acting, if it was introduced under the skin. I would need a syringe to inject it into Sebastian, at the very centre of the star shaped wound. I had several in the treatment rooms. So, on the return journey I stopped off and collected one, filling it with the compound, then I re-entered my study.

A scene of chaos greeted me. I really must stop going out of the room at the critical moment. Helena was on her hands and knees, with Sebastian bent over her copulating rapidly. Her skirts were thrown forward over her back and her undergarments had been torn to give access to his phallus. Sebastian had his hands resting on her shoulders, the fingers held tightly together so that they resembled paws. His mouth was wide open and his tongue lolled from the side, dripping copious amounts of drool. His phallus powered into Helena in a series of very rapid, very sharp, thrusts. Far faster than I had ever seen a man perform.

Helena seemed somewhat overwhelmed by the copulation and was making a series of high pitched yelps, but - regrettably - no effort to get away. Her eyes were wide open and her fingers dragged at the rug on the floor, curling with the pleasure she was evidently receiving. Her yelps could not have been more dog-like if she had been an actual bitch in heat. Her carnal nature will be the death of her one day, I thought, if it can't be brought under control.

Sophie was struggling with her brother and was welding a very efficient looking knife. Where she had got it from I had no idea, it wasn't one that belonged here at number 34. Then I remembered the knife in her boot that she had nearly used on the highwayman. Clearly this was a woman with trust issues if she always carried it.

She was pulling at Sebastian's trouser belt, trying to drag him away from my assistant, and making hesitant moves with the knife. It seemed clear to me that she was reluctant to strike her brother, but equally determined he would be subdued, one way or another.

"Wait!" I cried out to her, as she went to hit him with the pommel of the knife. "Give me a moment."

I stepped over to her brother and injected the whole syringe full into the wound on his back. He paused, then pumped his penis into my assistant three more times and suddenly falling sideways. He then curled up. I checked him over, he was asleep. I decided to leave him on the rug. There is an ancient phrase, 'let sleeping weredogs rest' which, I suppose, might have been coined for just this sort of occasion. I put Yani in the room to watch him, after making Helena respectable again. By which I mean I put her clothes back where they belonged and helped her to her feet.

We then took Sophie upstairs to the withdrawing room.

"Thank you, Damion," Sophie gushed. I basked in the warmth of her admiration for my skill. But I had questions to ask and if I didn't do so quickly I could see that Helena would start a conversation on more trivial matters.

"How did he come to be injured?" I said, with a stern expression. I wanted no hints, no vague references to things that prevented her marriage, just the truth. She looked back at me and understood what I was asking.

"Our family has, for generations, hunted the werewolf," she replied.

"Ah," I answered, though I had guessed as much. Werewolves were rare in our region but a phenomenon that never quite seemed to go away. The tales of these creatures were constantly being updated with new examples, unlike the tales of ghosts that seemed to drift further into the past. Ghosts were things that your great grandmother might have seen, werewolves were something you heard tales of that were perhaps five years ago.