Page 16 of Little Puppet

I pull up my sweats and get off the bed, extending a hand to help her down the steps. “Come then, darling girl. Let your master feed you.”

I fry up bacon,scramble some eggs for her, and toast her a bagel while I do. After plating the food, I sit at the table and motion for her to do the same, forgetting that she’s connected to the ceiling too tightly in this area.

“Should I move to the bedroom?” she asks, her hazel eyes looking innocent and eager to please.

It feeds something in me that I didn’t know was starving before.

I shake my head, motioning for her to sit on the table, giving her enough room to let her arms go lax.

I sit between her thighs, forking up food and feeding her. She takes each bite willingly, the first few gaining me a moan of pleasure as she closes her eyes.

“Why did you take me?” she asks before I can put the bagel back into her mouth for her next bite.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I tug my brows together in genuine confusion. I sigh, setting down the bagel. “Every year, I take a girl. She’s mine for the week before Christmas until she meets her eventual end. It helps me get through the holiday.”

I don’t know why I’ve told her; I’ve never told anyone. It won’t matter, however; even the ones who were malleable in the beginning got themselves killed.

“You don’t like Christmas?” she asks me, motioning for a bite of eggs, and I oblige.

“No. I don’t.”

She nods, leaving it alone, likely because of my curt tone.

I feed her the rest of the eggs, and she’s quiet. My eyescan’t stop looking over the red mark where my hand slapped her earlier, itching to rub over it and feel the welt I left behind.

“You thought I was beautiful?” she asks me, and I halt the fork before her lips.

She leans forward and takes the food off it at my pause.

“Anyone who doesn’t think you’re beautiful is fucking blind,” I tell her.

She shifts on the table, arms trying to move downward, but they meet the string’s resistance. Almost as if she is going to cover her stomach that curls in soft rolls as she sits on the table.

I drop the fork and splay my fingers over it, my hand sinking into the soft, pliable flesh as she leans back.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you when I saw you at the pump.”

Her eyes light with recognition. “At the gas station?”

I nod. What’s the harm in her knowing?

Maybe this will be something new I add to my routine, getting to know them and telling them my motivations.

It almost makes me feel as if we’re growing closer.

Even though that’s an idiotic thought.

“Why are you in Florida?” I ask her, turning the tables on her as I remove my hand from her stomach and offer her a bite of bagel.

She takes it, chewing as she decides to tell me anything.

“To see my mom. She moved here a few years ago, and I had finally saved up enough to get out of the snow for Christmas and spend time with her.”

“Why did she leave you?” I ask her, cocking my head as I give her a sip of orange juice.

It’s four in the morning, so it felt fitting to feed her breakfast. Even if the bagel is soaking up all the cum I already fed her.

“She didn’t leave me,” she counters. “She moved down here because she met a man on the internet, and they fell in love. He runs a major company here and didn’t want to move north for her. So she moved here.”

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