Page 36 of The Puppetmaster

“You knew you were going to be punished, didn’t you?” he says menacingly. “No one ever said it would be as simple as a spanking, my puppet.”

I growl in anguish, twisting in his grip as I try to evade a bliss that is soon going to be too much to resist. I can feel it with every new thrust against that magic spot inside me, and I catch myself begging for more as I gyrate my clit against his hot palm.

He notices, too.

And just when I’m hit with another wave of thrill and come dangerously close to exploding on his hand, he stops.

He withdraws his hand from between my legs and lets go of my hair with the other, leaving me feeling strangely empty and forsaken as he jumps up from the sofa.

I remain where I am, a trembling mess kneeling before him. My legs are still spread apart and my entire body continues yearning for the release he’s denying me.

“Stay,” he demands in a low voice. “Don’t you dare move.”

I nod, feeling his wish for a verbal response but not following suit. I’m too ashamed to speak, too agitated, too dazed with a heat I have never experienced before.

He walks away, leaving my sight, and because I’ve had enough of being punished for now, I don’t even dare turn my head to see where he’s going. I hear him rummaging around behind my back, opening and closing a drawer.

I don’t even remember seeing a dresser when we first stepped inside the room, and just as I think about turning around to see what he’s doing, I’m stopped mid-motion by his approaching steps.

“Good girl.”

His praise never fails to affect me, and I smile like a little school girl.

“You can close your legs,” he says, as he returns to his seat on the sofa right in front of me. “Give me your wrists.”

I obey on both accounts, feeling the sticky slickness between my legs as I move my knees back together and place my wrists in his lap, close to a visible bulge that fills me with pride. I was too preoccupied to notice it before, but seeing the effect I have on him widens the smile on my face.

I expect him to tie my wrists together, but when I place my hands right next to each other, he surprises me by only reaching for one of them at first. Lifting my right hand, he quickly closes a leather cuff around my wrist. It’s quite narrow and more delicate than other cuffs I’ve seen at the club before, but it bears the same metallic hooks and clasps.

“You are never allowed to take these off as long as you’re mine,” he announces, as he attaches the second one around my left wrist. “Never. Understand?”

“Not even when I take a shower?” I ask dumbly.

“Not even when I clean you,” he responds, making me blush once again. Up until now it never occurred to me that being the Puppetmaster’s toy could also mean giving up any sort of privacy.

Did he really mean that? He’s going towashme? Every day?

I lift my hands before my face, moving and turning as if I’m seeing them for the very first time, and he watches me. Without saying a word, he then produces a thin rope, which he loops through one of the hooks on my right wrist cuff. Yanking at it, he forces me to lean forward while he ties the other end of the rope around one of the sofa legs. He gets up from his seat, carefully moving around me to repeat the same thing with my left arm. This time he chooses a leg on the other side, so that my arms are stretched out to the sides and I sit bent forward in an awkward position as if I am bowing before the sofa.

Tearing at the strings, I notice that his knots aren’t very strong. They give in even to the slightest pull from my part.

“You know I could just tear these open,” I tease him, unable to stop myself, even though I know I’m asking for trouble with remarks like that.

“Yes,” he says from behind my back, probably enjoying the view of my naked ass on display in front of him. “But you won’t, will you?”

And with that, he marches away and leaves me alone in the room.

Chapter 23

Raad

Once again, Alena made me go off plan. Attaching the strings to my puppet before the paperwork has been signed is wrong, and it’s not how I usually proceed. With what just happened between us, I already sent her into a state that fogs the mind and may prevent her from making smart decisions.

Touching her and then denying her an orgasm is one thing. That is what I do. It’s simply a way to get to know my puppet, to understand how her brain works and to see whether my assumptions about her were right.

I wasn’t wrong about Alena. Yet she keeps surprising me. As much as she has a head of her own, she also guides me more clearly than most puppets have before her.

She’s so fucking responsive to me, to my words, my touch, my sheer presence. Playing with her has been a delight so far, and I can’t wait to see where we will go next.

---