Page 18 of The Puppetmaster

“It’s not a problem, just something I need to know,” I reply. “So, you have no experience with this at all?”

Alena shifts awkwardly on her heels, seemingly unsure how to respond. Her lips move as if she were chewing on the response before spitting it out, and her eyes trail away from mine, the indicator of an impending lie.

“There’s no right or wrong answer, Alena. Only the honest truth.”

“I... I haven’t reallydoneanything, I just… watched,” she whispers finally.

“Here at The Velvet Rooms?”

She nods. “Yes. But only occasionally, and I—”

“I don’t need an explanation, Alena. Stop being so ashamed of who you are. There’s no room for that when you’re with me,” I lecture. “Look at me.”

She looks young and somewhat helpless when her eyes travel up to mine now, wide with wonder and an embarrassment that pushes my buttons just the right way.

“When I ask you a question, I want you to answer truthfully. I don’t want you to hide anything, because you won’t be able to once we’re alone. If you want to be mine, you had better get used to being open and honest with me—and sympathetic to the little slut you are. Do you understand?”

Her deep inhale sounds like relief, but I know it also harbors a hint of arousal.

Good, this is very good.

More and more it seems like Alena is a dream come true. A perfect little puppet—only waiting to dance from my strings.

Chapter 11

Alena

Total honesty? Why does it feel like that’s the hardest thing he’s asking from me? And how is it possible that he seems to be able to read me better than any other person—including myself?

When he said those things about using me as his personal fuck toy, about doing things to me that I will hate him for and that will make me scream and fight against him... I should be appalled at those threats, because that’s really what they were, wasn’t it?

Threats. An intimidation that would make any normal person walk away and never look back.

I always suspected that I wasn’t normal, that there was something inside me that’s far from it, a frightening reality that I have never dared to explore.

And he sees it. He sees right through me, already luring the little monster that sleeps in the shadows of my soul with just those words. We have never properly met before, yet he seems to know that part of me better than I do myself.

Maybe he does remember me after all?

I want to ask him so badly, but I’m scared to follow that instinct. It doesn’t feel like the right time and place, because what if he does? What if hedidsee me trip that girl back then? What if this is all just an elaborate ploy to chastise me for my pathetic behavior?

Would I want to know? Would I want to destroy this bit of hope that I’ve been granted just by him asking me to come up here? Or would I prefer to live the illusion until proven otherwise?

Somehow, I prefer the latter.

“There’s one more thing we need to get out of the way,” he growls, folding his hands as he leans down to me. “Why are you here, Alena? I asked you before, but I need a different answer now. A practical answer. A truthful answer.”

I tilt my head to the side in question. “What do you need to know, sir?”

“People can’t just disappear from their life for weeks and months,” he discloses. “We all have our responsibilities, jobs, families, pets, social commitments. That sort of stuff. As my puppet, you would vanish from the world as you know it. You would have to leave everything behind. You can’t work, you can’t see other people, you can’t take care of anything that needs to be taken care of in your regular life. People will miss your presence.”

“I’m aware of that,” I tell him, ignoring the knot in my throat when I’m reminded of the only person I need to consider.

Riley, my little sister.

“And?” he prods, adding an impatient twirling gesture with his hand.

“I don’t have any responsibilities that I can’t leave behind, no family, no pets, no job—”

---