Page 52 of The Puppetmaster

Nothing mattered but that aggressive delectation tearing my body apart while my mind had long been silenced.

It was insane, it was frightening, it was painful, it was unbridled euphoria—and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Something died in me that day, something bad that’s been poisoning my mind and body like a tumor. He broke it, and then he helped reassemble the scattered pieces to something better, something stronger.

When I came back to my senses, I found myself wrapped in his arms, his body’s warmth soothing me while I adored the chiseled lines of his abdomen. I thought I was imagining things at first when I saw him getting undressed in front of me. I thought I saw him through the eyes of a drunken person, but the more I drifted out of my dazed mental space, the more I realized that this was truly him. His tan skin stretched across a sculptured physique, speckled with just a little soft black hair across his strong chest.

We stayed in bed for a few minutes before he ushered me to the bathroom, where he joined me under the shower and washed my entire body. It was intimate and gentle, but I wasn’t allowed to do a thing. Every time I lifted my hands to touch him or do anything of my own accord, he hooked his fingers through the little rings at my cuffs and guided my hands back down and away from him. It was agony in itself, because I wanted nothing more than to touch him, to kiss him, to caress his perfect muscles and run soap across his chiseled abs.

But he didn’t let me. He handled me like his property, turning me, lifting my arms, teasing me by cupping my boobs as he lathered my entire body. His touch was possessive and demanding, but so sensual at the same time.

I still revel in the memories of that day, even though there have been so many similar to it since. But no day was like the first. There was a magic during that first afternoon that lasted well into the night, even though I’ve had to spend it alone, just like every night since then.

Sleeping all alone in that huge bed was easy on my first night because I was so exhausted from the events of that day. It was a long one, starting with my first flight in a private jet, drinking too much champagne, crazy nerves as I drove up to his house, having to strip in front of him, being humiliated and teased and denied an orgasm I wanted so much just to endure the most painful and most rewarding experience of my life a few minutes later. He cooked for me that night, which was another scenario during which I wasn’t allowed to make any move on my own. He gave me orders left and right, telling me exactly what to do and in what order, and I obeyed like a trained puppy.

I’m not used to this. Throughout my life I’ve had to make so many decisions, small and big, for myself and for my little sister, and I deliberately chose a job that asked the same of me. I never thought of myself as a compliant worker, but during that first night, I savored it to the fullest degree.

Riley would be shocked if she had seen me that night. Watching me take orders from a man while working for him in the kitchen would probably shock her more than what happened in the bedroom earlier. I’m sure of that, especially after I heard her little tale about what got her fired from her job.

I wonder how she’s doing now. She arrived at my apartment a couple of days after I left and I know she’s in a somewhat tight spot right now. She didn’t want to let it show because that is just how she is, especially with me. Riley never wants to worry me any more than she absolutely has to.

On the contrary, in recent years she even tried to turn the tables in that regard and become the one worrying about me. I never knew how to feel about that, but I know that I appreciate her concern right now. It soothes me that there is someone other than Melina out there who knows where I am and who I am with.

I peel myself out of the heavy sheets and crawl out of bed, a motion that is greeted with an annoyed mewl from my side. The cat has been sleeping with me most nights, always curled up in the same spot at the far left corner next to my feet. He knows that, but has never said a word about it, so I’m assuming that I’m not breaking any rules by having this furry little companion with me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper at her, reciprocating her grumpy sneer with an apologetic smile.

I still haven’t found the perfect name for her, but I know one thing: this little ball of white fur brings me consolation when I most need it.

Because not every day in here has been like the first. I’m beginning to feel the confinement that comes with being his puppet more and more. It was a relief to not be allowed to decide anything by myself during my first day here, but now that a week has passed, I feel my liberal nature fighting against a cage that starts to feel smaller and smaller—while my heart grows more and more confused.

Don’t fall for him, Riley warned me, only repeating something I’ve been telling myself from day one. I don’t want to fall for him, because I know there is no possible life with him. He is the Puppetmaster, and once he’s done with me, he’ll end our contract and send me back into the world without ever wanting to see me again. That’s how he’s done it with all the girls before me and that’s what he’ll do to me.

I need to remember that. There is no life with a man like him.

I wrap myself in the light pink morning robe he gave me–just like everything else I’ve been wearing for the past week—and meander to the window, opening the curtains to look outside. My room faces the small but well-appointed backyard, which is filled with marble decor and a seating area next to a small pond that hosts a few Koi carps. A narrow path, lined out with white stones, curves around the pond and leads toward the flowerbeds in the back. Fall has colored the leaves in bright orange and yellow colors all around and sends a chilly breeze through the yard.

There’s a black bench right beneath my window with a small table next to it. He sits there a lot, even when I’d say it’s too cold to be outside. But the most peculiar thing is not that he sits there despite the cool autumn temperatures—it’s the time of day during which I’ve seen him sit there.

He has a weird habit of getting up very early in the morning, staying up for about an hour, during which time he sits outside smoking a cigarette and either reading or working on some paperwork. Then he ambles inside and appears to go back to bed for a couple more hours. I didn’t notice this until my second night. I was restless and awake myself when I noticed the light down on the terrace switching on. At first I thought he was just having trouble sleeping like I was, but it appears to be his normal routine.

I know this because I’ve adopted this weird habit myself. I wake up when the light flicks on, even though it’s not bright enough keep me awake. I walk over to the window and stand watching him in the shadows of my curtains, sitting there, the smoke of his cigarette dancing through the atmosphere in milky clouds while he wiles away the hour.

It’s a mystery to me, but for some reason I have not asked him about it. It seems to be a private time for him, a secret that he wouldn’t want to share with anyone.

Then again, I figure he must know that I can see him from up here. If he really didn’t want me to know about his habit, it doesn’t seem logical that he would go outside and turn the light on, drawing attention to himself.

I tighten the belt of the robe around my body, glancing over to the clock on the nightstand next to the bed. It’s almost nine, which means I should hurry to get myself ready and then wait for him to connect the strings to my cuffs and start another day as his puppet.

Chapter 33

Raad

I pace back and forth in my office, faced with a problem I’ve never had before, a problem that could ruin everything if I don’t find a way to rectify it.

When Alena opened her bank account, she opted for a special security clause that mandates she appear in person to conduct almost every type of banking business. With all of the other puppets, having a proxy was sufficient to allow me to do what I needed to do, but in Alena’s case, the clause overrides that approach. I even talked with various managers and they have all said the same thing: Alena must be present and there is simply no way around it.

Of course, this problem only occurred because I’m taking a bigger risk with Alena. It’s a bigger purchase, so big in fact that it draws attention—and drawing attention is the last thing I want to do. In fact, it’s the exact opposite of what I want to do.

Why did I not consider there might be a hitch in the plans? Even without that clause, I might have encountered trouble with this transaction, if not simply because we’re talking about a much larger sum than what I usually move.

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