Page 16 of The Puppetmaster

Of course, I knew that the world doesn’t run like that everywhere. I knew that even before I could finally move away from that toxic environment. But it’s hard to eliminate something that has shaped and defined you for the first twenty-one years of your life. I ran into trouble at every corner, and The Velvet Rooms was no exception.

And, of course, I chose the night of the hunt to leave a bad impression.

It was stupid, it was clumsy—and it was futile.

He was circling the room, much like he did tonight, his black eyes raking over the faces searching for his prey. And I wanted to be that prey so, so badly.

That’s why I did it. That’s why I pushed myself forward with no regard to anyone around me. That’s why I tripped up one of the extra pretty girls standing close to me. I just wanted her to stumble a little, to lose her footing and be off-balance long enough so I could pass by her and force myself right into the Puppetmaster’s focus.

I did not expect her to fall. I did not expect her to fall that spectacularly either, in such an unfortunate way that she ended up with a broken ankle. I tripped her, and she stumbled while trying to hold on to me to catch her balance. But I evaded her grasp and she fell, causing a ruckus around us.

And instead of helping her, I turned around, searching for his gaze, only to realize that he had turned away from us. He didn’t even notice what was going on behind his back as he approached a pretty blonde girl who caught his attention.

I stared. I waited. He didn’t look back once, not even when the girl next to me started crying from where she lay in an awkward position on the floor. And I just stood there as everyone around me was hovering over the poor girl I had hurt, indifferent to her suffering, just waiting to be caught by his attentive eyes.

The worst thing was that everybody knew what I had done. They knew I’d injured her on purpose to gain an advantage. They all saw me do it, and I could feel their spiteful eyes scornfully digging into me like daggers.

Everyone noticed. Everyone but him.

Looking back now, I should consider it a blessing. He doesn’t seem to remember me from that night, but I still managed to draw attention to myself by doing something wrong.

Then again, the Puppetmaster would never waste time on a subject he has no interest in, would he?

“Good girl.”

The words tear me away from my solitary musings, and I jerk up in surprise, remembering just in time not to lift my eyes. He came up onto the stage without me noticing. He was so close to me that I could feel his warm breath caressing my cheek when he whispered those blessed words. My breath hikes when I feel the warm bulk of his body right behind me, his presence towering over me in a protective yet intimidating manner when he sets an end to my timeout onstage.

“It’s time to get up and come with me.”

Chapter 10

Raad

Alena is different than the other girls in many aspects, but there’s one thing she has in common with all of them. There’s the same glimmer of hope flickering in her ocean-colored eyes when we enter one of the playrooms upstairs. I chose a blue room. Meant for sensual deprivation play, they provide a privacy that the other rooms lack. Some of the other rooms don’t even have doors, only curtains that separate them from the corridors. The blue rooms have solid doors and sound-insulated, button-tufted walls. The lighting is dimmed and there’s nothing but a bed with night-blue silk linens and a glass cabinet filled with utensils that we won’t be needing tonight.

The blue light is dim, but it’s not dark enough to hide the expression on her face when she looks up at me. She’s standing tall, her back straight and her hands folded in front of her body, a stance that is both demure and confident.

She looks so fucking perfect that it borders on physical agony not to touch her. She looks so innocent yet enticing at the same time in her white lingerie set, the adorned garter belt spanning across her shapely hips, holding up the sheer white stockings that cover her long legs almost all the way up to her center.

I’m torn between tearing the fabric from her body in a carnal attack so I can fuck her into submission and the desire to stay as far away from her as possible, worried that I might defile her perfectly innocent beauty.

My actions will turn out to be something in between, as I vowed never to touch my puppets before they are locked away in my home back in New York City, but I also want to bathe in Alena’s presence now that I finally have her this close to me. It was sooner than I expected and it didn’t happen the way I planned, but now that she’s here and my mind is set on proceeding with her, I’m determined to relish every single moment of pleasure she’ll give me.

I close the door behind me and move toward the bed, her eyes trained on me expectantly. She remains standing in place, but she slowly turns to face me as I sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Sit,” I tell her, pointing to the floor right in front of me. “On your heels, like you did on the stage. Show me what a perfect slave you can be.”

A smile plays at the corner of her mouth when she follows my demand. Her heels are not as high as I’ve seen on other girls, but she can move in them effortlessly. It’s obvious that she likes to doll herself up, and maybe she’s even used to wearing heels on a daily basis for her job.

She manages to keep her balance just fine as she lowers herself to the ground, taking her position in smooth, deliberate motions, obviously very aware that I’m watching her.

“Good girl.”

The praise makes her smile, and I can see her fingers twitching slightly, as if the joy of pleasing me dances through her veins, exuding at the tips of her fingers.

“Is this the proper interview?” she asks, ending her question with a bite to her lower lip, her eyes wide with worry as she looks up at me.

She’s right to do so. I didn’t give her permission to speak.

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