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The Dominant Hyde of an Englishman (Roger Doyle)

The Dominant Hyde of an Englishman by Roger Doyle

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When the scholarly gentleman becomes cursed by a strange idol, he randomly transforms into a brutal and dominant sadistic man who acts upon his barbaric instincts without pause. His lovely virginal wife takes the brunt of his attentions in every way imaginable as the couple embark upon a quest to find the cure to his affliction.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 7 / 2018

No. words: 55530

Style: Erotic Fantasy, Erotic Domination - M/F, Male Dom - M/F

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


With a huge smile and rosy cheeks, Lenora stepped onto the train platform and decided to keep ahold of her husband. People and machinery intermingled in the loud, bustling station, and she enjoyed every second of it.
As they headed toward the exit, a young woman with machine-produced flyers stopped them. She handed Cuthbert one and began a long and passionate spiel. “Have you heard of the inhumane practice of automon bear baiting? Well, they’ve brought the sport back, and sir, you’ve never seen the like of it! Just a few coins will go toward my worthy cause.”
The man dug into his pocket and passed her a handful of notes, “By all means and I truly hope this helps. Creating mechanical beasts just to kill then rebuild over and over is nothing but sheer barbarism!” He kept walking with Lenora, ushering her into the waiting vehicle without delay.
The brass engine rumbled then hissed and set off down the street. The single central wheel clattered on the cobbles as Cuthbert spoke over it. “Can't abide mindless cruelty! Some places make beasts to hunt with or to guard or even for combat, but those have a purpose beyond suffering to amuse. They even cut into living beasts and add controls and enhancements to them.” His voice was certain and angry, no hesitation as was normal. “Anyway, enjoy the journey, we'll be at the museum soon.”
“I feel the same way,” she said, glancing out at the busy city.
The building loomed before them within five minutes, an imposing structure decorated with sculptural reliefs and a maze of pipes. Darwin, Babbage, Queen Victoria, and many more gazed sternly out upon the bustling streets. “Someday I hope to be there,” Cuthbert confessed to his wife, a tinge of red on his cheeks as he told someone of his ambition. “It's unlikely but perhaps I could make some great discovery or important analysis of our history.”
Turning her full attention to him, her blue eyes met his. Her smile was genuine as she patted his knee before her small hand quickly retreated and nervously smoothed her dress. “With your brilliance, I have no doubt that will be so, Cuthbert.”
He smiled at her, lifting her hand to his lips to press them to it briefly. “Well then, let us not delay in our first married adventure, albeit a small one. Perhaps you might recognise the object in question, have no doubt that your knowledge is as broad as mine.” He climbed down carefully and offered his wife an arm as she descended.
They were greeted by the museum director, a short man with a bushy moustache and unctuous manner, who swept them through the marble corridors to the exhibition. “Indeed, sir, if we cannot put a name or origin to the piece then we'll have to display it as unknown. It would make us seem quite foolish, and the gentleman, if I can call him that, who passed it into our case for a generous remuneration had long departed for foreign climes before we investigated fully. What if it were a reproduction!?” He gulped noisily as the carven doors opened before them.
“Not to worry, old chap,” Cuthbert assured him easily, looking in clear appreciation at the collection of curios, trinkets and relics from across the mighty, world-spanning British empire. “I'm sure I can clear up its authenticity, if not origin.”
The director smiled in relief and snapped his fingers, summoning a scarlet enamelled attendant with a whir of clockwork. “Fetch item 451f, and don't dally!”
The machine returned swiftly with the black stone totem in its leather-padded manipulators and held it out to the expert.
Cuthbert took it with a curious glance and began his examination, speaking aloud to Lenora and holding it to show the features. “Graven from solid basalt, which is unusual, almost unprecedented. It's too coarse to hold a shape and too hard to carve with anything except high carbon steel, but here it is. Blatantly a male figure, possibly fertility idol like the green man? The features are still sharp but don't show the marks of metal tools, I would say this was done with stone if it were not a literally unbelievable amount of effort. It's the work of years if so, look at the smoothness here,” he held it up to the light to show the fine polish.
The dark wood interior of the museum was lit with a set of flickering gaslights and, as his knowledgeable voice echoed, the only other sound was the whir and soft clanking of the various clocks and steam powered displays.
His confidence made him even more handsome and Lenora stepped closer as she admired him. She leaned in and nodded, glancing at the museum curator who obviously appreciated Cuthbert’s evaluation, hanging on every word. Lenora was so excited by the experience that she reached for the diary tucked into her bosom to write about it, but stopped herself as she realised what she was doing.
“A cut gem perhaps, could be used to chip away the details but would take at least a decade, longer for this finish. I'm afraid that I do not recognise the design either, it's niggling in my head as though on the edge, something I know without knowing. Perhaps Iron John if it were relatively modern but the wear on the contours from touch shows it is ancient, perhaps palaeolithic. I'm sorry, all I can tell you is it is indeed authentic, possibly before the current cultures appeared.”
The man shook his head sadly as he admitted defeat, smiling wryly at his wife. “I did so wish to show you a triumph, but I refuse to commit a falsehood.” He held the artefact out to the attendant then dropped it with a sudden yelp, the automaton barely catching the totem before it hit the tiles. “It felt like it cut me,” he explained, examining his finger but seeing nothing but a mild red line somehow reminiscent of a hungry grin. “No sharp edges though. I don't know. Oh my. I may need to sit. Pardon me, my dear.” Cuthbert swayed gently then toppled full length onto the cool marble, his forehead pressed gratefully to the soothing stone as the world faded to darkness.
“Cuthbert!” she yelled, dropping to her knees beside her husband as he collapsed without explanation. She leaned over him, her dress brushing his hand as her hair fell forward, surrounding him with a flowery smell. Leaning down, she touched her lips to his forehead to check his temperature. His skin was hot, and she wondered how long he’d had the fever. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
The man mumbled something about a geas or perhaps geese in a rhythmic tone, then blinked as though his eyes were weighed down. “Train? Sleep? Love.” His voice was thick and slow, as though dredging the words up from a great depth as he forced himself to rise with difficulty. He felt an overwhelming urge not to show weakness, not to be beaten by the craving to collapse and sleep on the tiles, and managed to painfully gain his feet. “Sorry, need rest, not sure what,” he muttered as he swayed slowly.
The director looked concerned and gestured for an attendant to take Cuthbert's arm, supporting him on the way back to the velocipede. When they’d entered the museum it was a beautiful day, but as they left, ominous thunderclouds rolled in swiftly. By the time the couple arrived at the train, the wind whipping so hard it howled.
They returned to the train with the man barely conscious as he propped himself up in a corner, feeling like he was burning up from inside. Occasional disconnected words could just be made out between grunts, “Man. Self. Truth!”
“Think sleep now,” the man grumbled as he staggered along the corridor, sweat pouring from his flushed skin. “Feel—not me.” His shoulder hit the door, leaning on it while he tried vainly to find the key in his pockets with fingers that felt swollen to the size of marrows.
Lenora took the key and opened the door, hurrying ahead to pull the blankets back on the bed. She poured a glass of water for him, worrying as he fell into bed. He was much paler than usual, and it looked like he was near death.
She hated to leave him alone, but was certain he needed a doctor. Hurrying back into the next room, she rang for the porter and then returned to Cuthbert as she waited, sitting on the bed beside him.
The man groaned as he writhed on the bed, gradually settling down as his body seemed to find a new equilibrium. He swallowed hard and sat up just as the porter knocked on the door. “Madam, you called?” he asked politely.
“It's fine,” Cuthbert replied for her, his voice hoarse and deep. “Just a bit of a cold then a fall, no need to make a fuss.” His attention turned to Lenora, his hand catching hers as she sat next to him. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he said, patting her hand gently instead of kissing her fiercely as he suddenly wished. A wave of heat rushed over him, blood pounding in his ears and vision blurring as he suddenly felt himself shunted backward in his own head.
At the sound of a throat clearing outside the door, Lenora glanced away briefly. “Okay, call again if you need anything!” the porter replied, in a hurry to return to his duties.
“ 'Ello, poppet,” came a new, far coarser, voice as the man twitched and seemed to swell like an inflating zeppelin. His hair thickened and muscles bulged as his eyes turned almost crimson. Lenora leaned away from him as his mouth curled into a familiarly hungry grin. “Ye can call me Cutter, an’ I'm in charge of the wimp now.” The new man stood, head almost brushing the ceiling as he leered down at her, his clothes torn at the seams and starting to fall away.

Chapter 2

“Cuthbert?” she asked faintly, as fear spiked through her. Had her new husband just turned into a demon before her eyes? The man was massive and frightening, and she turned to scramble backward across the bed, but her legs became tangled in the voluminous dress and petticoats.
“Cuthbert ain't ‘ere right now,” the brute replied as he caught her ankle to drag her closer. He pinned her to the bed with one hand as she stared up at him in terror. “ ‘E’ll be back later, but now it's just us two an’ I've got a craving from long back.” His free hand, thick nailed and hairy, pulled her skirts up to reveal smooth, long legs before he tugged at his trousers, grunting in anger then tearing them away fully as the buttons proved an inconvenience.
The thick shaft revealed was already hard as he clamped his hand onto her silk lingerie and yanked it aside. Cutter grinned at the soft, silvery hair and pale crotch on display then knelt between her legs and kissed her fiercely, stubble rubbing on her face. “Ready fer fun?”
“I d-don’t think that’s a good idea,” she cried, reaching between them to grab his thick wrist while trying to wiggle out from under him.
The sight of his enormous manhood made her feel faint as she stared at the milky drop of fluid on the tip. She’d never seen one before, and had no experience at all. It wasn’t proper to learn about sex before marriage and she was completely clueless. Besides, this animalistic man wasn’t her husband.
“I’m married! I can’t,” she said, turning her head away so he couldn’t kiss her mouth again.
“When else?” he asked in an almost reasonable tone of voice. “I'm still yer ‘usband after all, ‘e’s in ‘ere with me an’ I know ‘e’s been waitin’ fer this.” His hand cupped her cheek, pulling her face back for a kiss as he pressed the head of his cock to her. The precum smeared on her with each short thrust, just enough to spread her folds for him.
“Ready,” Cutter decided, a gleam in his eye as he began pushing it inside. He slid his hand over her mouth to muffle any cries while his hips inexorably pressed down. A satisfied grunt escaped him as the head finally overcame the elastic resistance and popped into the unwilling heat beyond.
She hadn't anticipated the penetration and thought the man was downright beastial. Her wide eyes stared up at him in shock as he took her virginity, the brief pain soon faded away almost completely as he slid smoothly in and out. The man's muscles were beyond steel and as she tried to push him off it didn't phase him one bit. Her eyes opened to see a wolfish grin that was almost sinister directed down at her. Lenora's eyes narrowed in response until she began to feel a surprising pleasure build and her struggles instantly ceased.
She was confused and frustrated, but no way would she let the brute know he'd stirred feelings in her. While she fumed, an irresistible scent suddenly overcame her as she breathed in deep through her nose. She moaned beneath his palm, wondering how someone so beast-like could possibly smell so amazing.
The man growled as he pumped into her roughly, hand shifting off her mouth once she stopped trying to shout. “Good poppet,” he teased, smirking as his body slammed into her repeatedly.
His shaft drove in full length every time now, reaching far inside her now-dripping cunt to stroke the inner walls. He grunted and kissed her again, tongue in her mouth for the first time as she tasted the copper and salt tang of him.
She moaned into his mouth and her fingers dug into his skin as she held on tighter, hardly able to believe she was behaving so badly. What would her husband think? The thought vanished as he filled her completely, pushing in painfully deep. Still, she wanted more, and didn’t understand how it could feel so good while hurting at the same time. Another moan escaped her again as she felt an orgasm building. Cutter groaned as her insides clutched at him, her body aching with need like his own. His cock pulsed as his climax built. Soon, powerful jets of cum splashed into her cunt, hot and thick as he kept pumping without mercy. Lenora was suddenly overwhelmed as she orgasmed, her insides pulsing with pleasure as they squeezed at his cock. She screamed in delight and her fingers dug into his muscled back, her nails leaving crimson trails which healed as soon after they appeared.
Finally he slowed, his body slumping onto hers as he kissed her forehead. “Nice one, poppet. I'll be seein’ ye around,” he growled, his grin returning, only to fade as he shuddered, a full body motion, and began to shrink down.
Seconds later Cuthbert blearily blinked his eyes, trying to shift the red fog he could see, and gasped with astonishment at where he found himself. “Oh my! What on Earth happened! Oh no, was it concussion from my fall?” he babbled, lifting himself up and finding his shaft pulling out of his wife, pink tinged cum dripping from her.
Lenora was speechless, confused about what just happened. Now that the big brute was gone, she felt the aches he’d left behind. When her husband climbed off her looking completely shocked, she wasn’t sure what to tell him and sat up to see the stain of her lost virginity on her petticoats. If it weren’t for that, she might be able to convince herself it had all been a nightmare.
Her husband brought her a glass of champagne, slightly losing its bubbles now, and slumped onto the bed by her side. “Was it real, love?” he asked in a stunned voice, idly rubbing his marked finger as he drained his own glass and tried to make sense of his blurred memories. “I remember feeling free, powerful, careless—but it's impossible. Stuff of folklore, not science! What happened?”
Her hand was shaky as she took the glass and gulped the champagne, buying some time to think over her reply. “You changed, Cuthbert. Not just your personality, but your appearance, too. You became so." she took another sip, and not wanting to upset him, she decided to lighten the impact, “ —um, well beastly —in a way.”
“Felt strange, like being an animal,” he murmured, finally realising what he was doing and inspecting the finger. “Now that shouldn't be. See this?” His eyes narrowed as he showed Lenora the demonic smirk marking him.
“I don't know what to do or say now, my dearest, except I'm sorry and I'll have to try to make it up to you.” Cuthbert sighed and slumped further, “I wanted you to be happy and for our first conjugal moment to be romantic and special, not like this. Maybe the fellow's gone and we'll not have to endure this again. More like the life we planned, eh?” He essayed a weak smile at her but his heart was clearly not in it as he remembered how pleasurable Cutter's actions had felt to him.
“I hadn’t expected my first time to be like that either,” she said, her cheeks glowing with embarrassment as she remembered the orgasm she had. Her head was spinning as she realised that it was as if she’d been unfaithful. She’d just keep that to herself and not ever mention it to her husband, just in case he didn’t remember. Why, if that Cutter came back, she’d smack him silly!
Cuthbert poured them more champagne and leant across to kiss her forehead. “I suppose it was our first time, but I'd prefer to try and forget that one if you're agreeable?” He stood and looked out of the window, pressing his forehead to the cold glass.
She stood and smoothed her dress, her eyes widening slightly as the cum leaked out of her and coated her thighs. Cuthbert had reserved the largest suite in the train for their honeymoon, and there was a bathing room set aside with a steam bath. She opened the door to find an enormous tub for two, made entirely of varnished mahogany. There were pipes running along the walls, large wheels, valves and even a small furnace. She didn’t have a clue how all of the gadgets worked, and without saying another word, she rang for the porter for help.
Her husband sighed and entered the room. “I'd prefer we kept the porter out, my dear, rather than have anyone see what happened to my wardrobe or yourself. I'm not as incompetent in the ways of engineering as you may suspect,” he tried to joke, looking at the machinery and starting it working. The water filled the tub and concealed pipes burbled as the boiler activated, heating the liquid to steaming.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you get up after being so ill,” she said, glancing worriedly at the strange mark on his finger. How could something like that just appear? “Thank you for getting it going for me. While you’re here, will you unfasten my gown?”
She turned her back to wait, watching the steamy water fill the tub. Remembering how nice the orgasm was, Lenora shivered and squeezed her messy thighs together.
Cuthbert carefully unfastened her dress, stroking her neck with his fingertips. “Have a pleasant bath, my dear. I'll go turn the porter away then rest. Once we arrive home I'll ransack the library for this phenomenon. It must be recorded somewhere!” He turned at the knock, closing the bathroom door behind him.
The porter grumbled as he walked away, again, but the suite's inhabitant failed to register it in his preoccupation.
Lenora nodded as he left, and quietly withdrew the sleek metal diary from her bosom. She’d scribbled in the cherished book regularly for months. The creation was intricately designed and finely crafted. Besides being beautiful to look at, it was also supremely functional. The small book was covered in a fine, near-indestructible casing and came with a built-in self-inking quill and locking gears and switches. The thick cover carried small compartments, most of which she hadn’t yet figured out how to open.
She undressed and climbed into the tub with a sigh, adding scented oils that softened her skin and fragranced the air. Finally she settled back and began to write in her diary for the first time as a married woman. The entry came out much different than she imagined it would that morning as she reminded herself to write about the day. In fact, it sounded more like a work of fiction.

Author Information

I'm just a good guy who writes about bad intentions. My stories are written to quench the fantasy of dubious and non consent for both men and women. If you enjoy my books, I would love to hear from you! Your comments are greatly appreciated and I'll respond to any feedback.


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