Igor and the Frankenprick

By Jay Roberts

Published on Dec 1, 2012

Gay

"Igor and the Frankenprick, Part Three" by Jay Roberts Gay Sci Fi/fantasy

Today is Saturday. I decided to be noble and do some studying, besides it was comforting to turn my back from John's work on the monster. My excellent concentration ability blocked out the sound of scraping and sewing. Ugh! Also it helped that my back was turned from the gruesome operations.

An hour must have passed and I was making good progress in my reading and memorizing. It all came to an abrupt stop as John called to me.

"Igor, come to the laboratory." This said with a Boris Karloff lisp and accent. "See how my dear grandfather's lotion has practically healed up the incisions from the attachments. You can hardly see anything."

I got up and immediately saw that he was correct. It was wonderful work. He will make a great surgeon. "The sex organ looks excellent. He will be the most popular boy in the steam room."

He didn't seem to find that funny. He was so caught up in the overwhelming importance of his work and maybe the fantasy of the fame to follow.

I decided to take a nap. As I slid into sleep I heard him mutter: "Now to revive the lad."

I woke up later in the afternoon to witness an astounding happening. John has evidently disassembled our toaster and attached the raw wires to the creature's head. That was a zapping of electrical sound and the smell of ozone. The monster was jumping and flexing in a fucking motion, but the most unbelievable sight was naked John impaled on the youth's enormous prick.

John's hair was standing up from the electricity. He was in sexual ecstasy, his own cock fully erected and bouncing up and down. John's face was a study in delayed orgasm.

He caught sight of me. "Igor, quickly suck my c ock. This electricity makes it impossible to nut."

I am noted for my generosity. I leaned over John's lap and took his dripping cock in my mouth and began to give him relief. But I never expected that the electric current would pass from the creature, to John and now my sucking mouth and tongue. Ooh, it felt strangely wonderful and it must have been a charge (no pun) for John as a hot, wet buzzing mouth enveloped his prick. He moaned loudly and his pre cum increased so that I was slurping it.

Then he roared loudly and began shooting into my craw. I swallowed fast and mightily. What a load he had. Finally he gasped in exhaustion and slide off his prick perch and landed on the floor. The Cardiff prick deflated, it had done its duty and proved that ones cock never dies.

Suddenly I heard a commotion outside the door. I peeked through the blinds. There was a crowd of uni students holding flashlights and looking angry. I guess they were not pleased that the grid had failed and the whole campus was dark.

I hurried back to Young Doctor Frankenstein. I bent over to approximate a hunchback and intoned: "Master, hurry, the village people are attaching us with torches."

"Excellent, ask them to do "Under the Boardwalk."

"No, these are the real angry college kids."

He pulled himself up to his six feet six of dignity and scornfully said, "Foolish Igor. They can do no hard. I'll just detach the electrode from the creature's head and...and..plug in the toaster."

"This is no time to make toast Master."

"Shut the fuck up Igor.

He pulled the connection from the creature and reassembled the toaster. The lights went on and the crowd dispersed.

John pointed weakly toward the collection of gin bottles. "Time for dear mother's milk."

I nodded and poured two stiff ones, drinks I mean. We sipped silently not sure what to do next. Finally John clapped his hands. "I'll reluctantly return the Cardiff Cock to it's specimen jar. The brain I'll leave installed. Then we make a delivery to the morgue.

As we pushed the Gurney back like parents out with the baby, I asked John: "So this is the end of the experiment?"

"For the time being. I have to say that the brain attachments were daunting. I was overwhelmed with the number of tiny attachments to be made. I plan to go back to my ancestor's notes, perhaps I did something wrong.

"If you do this again you'll never find a handsomer boy to work with."

He patted me on the head, "True Igor, you are seriously cute."

"No, I mean...or well..."

End


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