Page 12 of Little Puppet

“See, darling. See how good it can be here? How wonderful being my good little puppet can be?”

I’m breathless, and every sinew of my body is flexing and stretching as I try to ride his mouth, where he flickshis tongue over my clit as the candy cane moves in and out of me in measured, even thrusts.

“Please,” I beg, and now I know I’m genuinely dangling over the dark side. I’m not begging for him to stop now. I’m begging for more, for him to make me come. For him to take the ache in my soul away.

“Beg your master for your orgasm!” he commands, still moving the candy cane, but his tongue has stopped its work over my clit.

I look down, seeing only the mask he has at an angle over the top of his head. His face is free and hovering over my pussy, threatening to take me where I want to go if only I behaved.

“Please, master. Please make me come.”

“And how do you want me to make you come, little puppet?”

“Suck my clit, please, master. Suck it until I come all over your candy cane.”

My words spill out, sounding mad and frantic, but he growls and sucks my clit into his mouth, moving the candy cane faster, harder, deeper, my cries echoing through the room and mixing with the sounds of the crackling fire in the fireplace at the end of the bed.

“So close, master,” I plead, begging with my tone for him not to stop, and I realize how deranged this is.

This man ran me off the road, chased me through the fucking woods, tied me to his ceiling, and now I’m writhing over his mouth like a schoolgirl about to have her first orgasm.

But I can’t care.

It feels too good.

I feel too free.

It makes no sense when I’m his bound prisoner to feel like that, so I stuff the thought away to deal with later.

“Master!” I shout, melting to bits as my orgasm slams into me, his lips only sucking my clit harder, making it seem to go on far longer than I’ve ever experienced.

The pain in my belly only adds to the overwhelming rapture.

I’m trying to catch my breath when he stops moving the candy cane. My breathing hitches as he sits back onto his haunches between my open legs, tugs the candy cane out of my center, and shoves it into his mouth to clean it.

He’s forgotten all about his mask, and I search his beautiful face for the malice it would’ve taken to have run me off the road and done everything he’s done.

But I can’t find it.

Who the fuck is this man?

I wake on my back,and my body aches from how I slept. After the mind-blowing way my kidnapper made me come, he tucked me in and told me to sleep.

I didn’t need him to command me because as soon as he’d closed the doors, I’d closed my heavy eyes and drifted off.

I listen for him for a moment before I get the blankets off me and move to the edge of the bed. I find that panties and a strapless bralette have been put on me at some point, and I wonder how the hell I’d slept through him dressing me.

But the fact that he’s given me any clothing when I’m to be his puppet perplexes me.

This entire scenario perplexes me.

As he said, I can leave through the now-open bedroom door and enter the living room.

Brown leather furniture fills the room, a roaring fire in the hearth, and a blue and tan rug beneath the furniture on the cherry wood floors.

He’s nowhere in sight, however.

When standing, my strings are too tight to do much of anything. I look like a puppet in a children’s show, awkwardly angled and dangling for someone else’s pleasure.

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