Page 7 of Little Puppet

Footsteps come closer, and I look up at the masked man with tears brimming in my eyes.

“Welcome home, my beautiful puppet. We’re going to have some fun, you and I,” he says, gravel raking through his tone.

Shivers make gooseflesh rise, and the hoops in my skin burn.

“What have you done?” I ask him, feeling the warmth from my tears track over my cheeks.

“I’ve freed you, my darling.”

“Freed me from what?” I whimper.

“From them, from the world. Here, with me, you’ll be happy and cared for—as long as you behave.”

“And if I don’t?” I swallow.

He sits on the edge of the bed. “If you don’t, you’ll cease to exist.”

He says it so calmly that it sets my teeth on edge.

His hand lifts and brushes a lock of my hair back over my ear, his blue eyes searching my face for something.

“If you’re my good little puppet, you’ll be the happiest girl in the world.”

Fear wobbles in my stomach.

I’ll never be free of him. Unless someone finds me.

Hope is the only thing that’s going to keep me alive, hope that my mom finds me and saves me.

I only have to stay alive long enough for her to find me alive and not dead in a freshly dug hole in the back of this psycho’s yard.

“How do I be a good puppet?” I ask him, trying to get a good read on him.

Sure, I’ve only taken a few of my pre-requisite psychology classes so far, but I’m hoping they are enough to help me survive this fucker.

“You do whatever your master tells you, darling.”

His voice is deep and commanding, and my nipples bead under its power.

To survive this man, I’m going to have to lean into that, I realize. Lean into the psychotic way the brain will adapt to survive.

Even if it changes my makeup in the end.

“Are you going to be my good little puppet?” he asks, his blue eyes hopeful behind his mask.

I nod, swallowing down fear and nausea. “I am.”

He purses his lips as if that was the wrong answer. “They all say that in the beginning.”

He stands and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him, and I lean back on the plush pillows, letting my tears fall now that he’s gone.

Pleasing him to live might be the death of me.

Chapter 3

She looks beautiful with my hoops in her. It took hours for the surgery. I had to debride her wound before I could close it, and while she was already under, I took the opportunity of silence to pierce her in peace. It’s a much simpler task than when they’re awake.

Something about her is different than the others. Where they’d immediately begun ripping at the hoops, she asked how she was to be my perfect puppet.

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