The Puppetmaster

by Linnea May

  “Turn around,” he commands breathlessly.

  I grimace as the clamp cuts into my flesh, my inner thighs rubbing against my swollen clit while I position myself on all fours, presenting myself in front of him.

  Can he fuck me like this? Or will he remove the clamp before shoving his cock inside me?

  The gem stones are dangling against my clit in this position, filling me with a hot spark of a tempting promise. But I’m pretty sure my entrance is blocked by the metal clip.

  I moan heartily when he places his hand on my exposed core, cupping me with his palm and only applying soft pressure when he urges me to move forward so he can climb on the bed behind me.

  I’m so agitated and ready for him that I’m practically dripping on his hand, the sensation of even the slightest touch on my clit almost too much to bear.

  He’s careful, though, only passing my most sensitive spot as if by accident when he slides his fingers up and down between my folds. A moment later I realize what he’s doing.

  He moves upward, gathering my own juices to use them as lubricant when he starts teasing my tight entrance. My pussy may be blocked by a clamp, but that’s not where he will fuck me today.

  A wave of concern blends with all the other emotions I’m trying to process right now. For all the kinky fantasies I might have had, all the dates and short-term boyfriends who have made appearances in my life—I’ve never been fucked in the ass before.

  Should I tell him? Is this something he needs to know?

  Is this something I need him to know?

  “I...I...” I stutter, interrupted by him spreading my tight hole with his finger. It’s weird, it’s new... but it’s not painful. Yet.

  That changes when he adds another finger, soaked in my own juices and gliding into me with surprising ease.

  “I’ve never...done this,” I blurt out, unable to stop the words from pouring out of me.

  “An anal virgin, huh?” he notes behind me, pushing his fingers deeper inside me and sending another wave of painful bliss raging through my core. “There’s a first for everything, puppet. You’re lucky you get to experience yours with me.”

  I’m inclined to agree, because as much as I fear the increasing ache of what he’s doing to me, I can’t help but lean into him, asking for more, curious to see what his cock must feel like.

  He stretches me with his fingers before massaging my puckered entrance when he slowly pulls them out.

  “You want more, puppet?”

  “Yes, please,” I breathe, woozy with craving.

  “Please, what?”

  “Please, Master.”

  “Please, what? What do you want me to do?”

  I roll my eyes, unbeknownst to him, my entire body squirming with yearning while my fingers dig into the silk sheet beneath me.

  “Please... fuck my ass,” I mutter with my eyes closed, thankful for not having to look at him right now. Saying the words out loud brings shame to me, a shame that only fuels my arousal.

  “As you wish,” he growls behind me, and a moment later I can feel the tip of his cock teasing my entrance.

  I immediately tense up when he threatens to move, only playing with my hole, teasing and probing. I start to move as if in a trance, circling my hips while bobbing back and forth ever so slightly, the gem stones toying with my clit as I do.

  He holds his cock in place, leaving it up to me how much of it actually parts my tight hole. I’m cautious, still riddled with fear as I merely play with the idea of letting him fuck me there.

  I knew it was only a matter of time until he’s had enough. He doesn’t shove it in like he would with my pussy, but at some point he holds me in place, spreading me with the thick head of his cock, blazing-hot pain shooting through my core.

  I throw my head back, holding onto the silk sheets for dear life while he slowly and steadily moves forward, tearing me apart inch for inch.

  “Let it go,” he says in a soothing voice, voicing the same command that has given me so much pleasure. “Just let it happen, Alena. Enjoy it. Let it go.”

  I groan an unintelligible response and am determined to obey, not for him, but for myself. Breathing through the pain, I let it happen, taking in his massive size inch for inch, but I can feel the agony turning into something else as he fills me. It’s a gradual change, something that comes with harbingers like little kisses, interrupting the pain for just long enough to give me an idea of what it could be like. All I need to do is hold onto them, embrace them and welcome the kick they bring. I know that.

  It’s something that he has taught me, a kind of magic that was unfathomable to me before.

  A deep moan leaves my lips when I’m touched by that magic today, the anguish turning into a warm buzz as he slowly fucks me where no one has fucked me before. Every thrust is still spiced with a hint of hot ache, but just enough to turn into a luscious feeling, granting me with a vertigo that equals the high I experienced on my first day here.

  I never regretted listening to his demands, not once, and I don’t regret it now. We move in unison, a steady rhythm between us, neither too fast nor too slow, but just perfectly gratifying. I can feel the gem stones tickling my swollen nub with every impetus, driving me closer to my impending climax.

  Am I allowed to come yet? Do I want to come already? I don’t want this to be over.

  He grabs me by the hips and increases the ferocity of his motions, now propelling into me with a force that was inconceivable just a few moments ago, but feels exquisite right now.

  “Come,” he breathes between shoves. “Come with me.”

  I want to lift my hand and move it between my legs, like I usually would in this position, but with the clamp holding my sensitive parts in a tight grip and the little stones caressing my clit, I see no use for it. Instead, I hollow my back a little further, changing the angle just enough to take him in even deeper, his pelvis ramming against my ass and his strong body pushing against the tormenting metal between my legs.

  The first waves of my orgasm are so mellow that I almost miss them, confused at the slow buildup that announces the rapture that’s about to tear me apart. And just when I finally hit that delicious peak, my world turns upside down, my vision blurs and my soul seems to yell out with frantic joy. I can feel the pulsations of his peak deep inside me as we’re overcome with joint exaltation once again.

  Chapter 39

  Raad

  It has been twenty-three days with her, and by now I can’t deny the fact that I don’t want Alena to leave.

  We developed a routine, just like I do with all my puppets. Routines make people feel safe, they soothe them even under distressing circumstances, and while they may still perceive me as unpredictable, at least they have something to hold on to, some security, a sense of control.

  Alena has been granted a lot more of that control than I’m usually willing to relinquish. She can be so delightfully demure when she wants to be, but when we’re not playing, she’s exactly the kind of woman I felt so drawn to from the moment I first saw her.

  That day has been ingrained in my brain for years, and when I look at her now, I still find it hard to believe that we’re actually here.

  That she is here, with me, in my house, as my puppet.

  It’s something I never could have imagined back then, because I wasn’t the man I am today when I first laid eyes on her.

  Years ago, when I visited her in the hospital.

  She was unconscious then, and I was only able to get close to her because my lawyer pulled some strings. I never talked to her, but I learned her story nevertheless–because I needed to once I saw her. I was told about the incident that put her there, and the story I’d heard didn’t line up with the girl I saw lying before me.

  She looked so small, so innocent, and nothing like the brute she’d been described as.

  “How could a girl like that do something like this?” I asked back then, and my question was met with a lot of unhelpful shrugs.

&nb
sp; Because no one cared. All they knew was that there was a victim and a culprit, and Alena was the latter.

  I know she thinks that too, but I know it to be different. And soon I hope to be able to prove that to her.

  But for that, I need her to do something for me that won’t sit well with her.

  For the past two weeks, I’ve been agonizing about a way out of this, a way to circumvent the rules. It’s not like I haven’t done it before. I’ve always gotten my way, even if it meant moving deep into a gray or even black area. I always found a way to make things work the way I wanted them to and not how they were dictated by external factors.

  But this time I find myself at a dead end. Alena trusts me; she may even like me a little too much. She declared that what we’re doing was dangerous, because it was too good. That and her reclusive behavior showed a kind of self-reflection that I’m not used to from my puppets.

  The girls before her were all the same—they all fell for me, and they all fell hard. They were stupid enough to just let it happen, fooled by my strings and the manipulation I inflicted upon them. They danced beautifully, but their heads were just as empty as their eyes, following my guidance with nothing but their hearts.

  Alena never let her guard down like that—and it bothers the fuck out of me.

  Why of all puppets does she have to be the one whose mind is the hardest to break? She let me in just enough to watch her dance before me, but she was never blinded as to what this was or who I am.

  But that’s exactly what I need from her right now, as agonizing as that thought may be.

  I’m lost. For the first time in my life, I have no fucking idea what to do.

  It’s a sinister quirk of fate that I’m left with only one person to ask for advice at this point, and I’m hesitant to act on it.

  I’ve been sitting in my office for hours, the door closed, while Alena is upstairs in her room. The day has just started, and one rule she always adheres to is to stay in her room until I get her, which means the morning hours are the only time when I’m a hundred percent sure that she’s not straying through the house, playing with the cat, or reading one of the books she was allowed to bring.

  I’m weighing the phone in my hand, staring at it as if that would make the problem go away.

  Am I going to make this call or not? I know I’ll have to decide soon, because I’m running out of time. And I’ve been sitting here like an idiot every single morning for the past week, doing the exact same thing, grinding the exact same questions, pondering without getting anywhere.

  Once again I torment myself with the question if there really is no other option, no other person to ask, because I really hate to involve him in this.

  Then again, it’s my fucking brother, and if anyone is familiar with the kind of dilemma I’m facing, it would be him. Nate is the only person who would understand, the only person who wouldn’t ask any questions—and despite everything, the only person I trust.

  When I agreed to trade sedatives with the local mafia years ago, Nate was the one who took the fall for me. It was a stupid thing to do—for both of us—but in the end, he was right when he said that it would be best for everyone involved if my name was kept clean, because his was already soiled.

  Keeping a name clean that isn’t clean is a questionable thing to do, but I’m doing it with the best intentions. He knows that. In fact, he’s the only person on the planet who knows that.

  “Fuck it,” I hiss to myself, dialing the number before I can stop myself with another rush of dumb pondering.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” he greets me in a condescending voice.

  I roll my eyes. Maybe this was a mistake after all.

  “What’s up, brother?” he inquires. “Please don’t tell me you killed someone and I need to cover for it or some shit like that, because, you know, I have a wedding to plan.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t disturb your little lovebird heaven,” I growl. “But I have a problem, and I need your advice.”

  Even saying the words hits me in the chest like a punch.

  Nate seems to sense my distress, because his voice changes in an instant.

  “What’s up?” he asks again, sounding honestly concerned this time.

  “I need someone to do something for me, something that will scare her or seem like the wrong thing to do. Ideally, I’d need her to do it without knowing what she’s doing, and—”

  “She, huh?” my brother cuts me off. “Is this one of your playthings?”

  Disgust laces his words, and I can’t blame him for it. I feel the same way when he refers to Alena as one of my playthings, even though that’s what she is. Technically.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I manage. “I don’t want to go into detail.”

  He clears his throat. “Because you want to spare me?”

  “That’s correct.”

  Tense silence is all I get in response to that.

  “You need her to do something illegal for you, and you don’t want her to know that she’s doing it?” he repeats. “And you’re calling me, because…”

  “Because you know what that’s like.”

  He scoffs. “Well, you know how that ended.”

  “Yes, it will end at the goddamn altar,” I say.

  “Is that what this is about?” Nate asks, chuckling. “You’re in love with this girl or something—and you feel bad for what you’ll have to do to her?”

  Fuck this guy, seriously. His words hit me like a damn train, and I’m too baffled to jump aside on time.

  “No, that’s your story,” I insist.

  “Sounds to me like it’s yours too, bro.”

  I let out a furious sigh. What was I expecting with this call? I wanted advice, not a lecture from a little boy who lost sight of his former life because he fell for a girl he was merely supposed to kidnap and train to become someone else’s fake fiancée.

  “It’s not… like that,” I utter, not even convincing myself. “You know I have no trouble with making someone do what I want them to do. You know I can train them to blindly follow any order I give them—”

  “Yes, Mr. Puppetmaster, I think I’m aware of your little show.”

  “Don’t mock me, little brother,” I growl at him.

  Nate lets out an exasperated sigh. “What is the problem then?”

  “This one is too strong, too unyielding. I absolutely fucking need her to do this, because everything is at stake. There’s no way around it. But I’ve been working her for long enough to know that she won’t turn a blind eye to what I need her to do,” I snarl. “That’s the fucking problem.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Nate retorts, letting a few moments pass before he adds, “I think I know what to tell you, but I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.”

  “I don’t like most things you trot out, Nate. Just spill it.”

  “I don’t need to hear the full story to know that whoever you’re talking about is a special person,” he says, feeding the impatient rage within me. “So I would tell you two things. First: hold on to that one. Don’t fucking let her go.”

  I roll my eyes. How is that going to help me?

  “What’s the second thing?”

  He clears his throat again, adding another torturous pause before he shares his brotherly wisdom with me.

  “Do what I did,” he says eventually. “Don’t lie to her. Don’t try to force her to turn a blind eye to what you’re trying to do. Make her your ally.”

  Chapter 40

  Alena

  I’m sitting in his regular spot on the terrace, my eyes resting on the pond where a lonely Koi carp is swimming in circles. There’s usually more than one, and I know there must be at least three of them living in there, but the others must be hiding while this one restlessly circles its tiny world. Salwa is not allowed out here, otherwise I’m sure she’d be sitting at the edge of the pond, curiously observing the fish yet keeping her distance. She’s an elegant creature and weirdly averse to getting her pristine paw
s dirty. Raad worries that she could run away and never come back if he’d let her run freely out here in the backyard.

  “I’d never hear the end of it,” he said, referring to his housemaid, whose name appears to be Dorota.

  I wonder if she knows what her employer is up to when he sends her away for weeks. When I asked him about it, he just shrugged, claiming that he doesn’t care. He never told her anything, but he knows just as I do that the woman is not stupid, and there’s a reason why she has never inquired about it either. She understands that some things are best kept secret, especially if knowing about it would put her in an awkward position.

  I’m wrapped in a thick, soft blanket, sitting on the bench with my legs pulled up under me and a hot tea steaming in front of me. It’s nice and sunny out today, but so chilly that my breath fogs in clouds in front of my eyes while I bask my face in the early-morning sun. The colder temperatures and my desire for fresh air have forced me to eventually dig into my own suitcase for some warmer clothes. Long pants and an auburn-colored turtleneck pullover are way better suited for this weather than the cute lingerie I like to wear for him.

  I’ve been bad this morning. I broke a rule I have never broken before.

  When he didn’t show up at my room at the usual time, I was bold enough to step out on my own. It still surprises me that he never locked me up in there. I was always able to leave on my own, just as I’d be able to remove the cuffs around my wrists if I wanted to.

  But I never did. The thought never even occurred to me up until this morning.

  Truth is, I want to see what happens. Am I testing him? Maybe. He always warned me against trying to play him like that because he doesn’t like brats. But I’m not a brat. I’m also not trying to top him from the bottom.

  If anything, I’m teasing him just enough to wrinkle a little tension between us. Tension that might lead to a punishment, but a punishment that I’d gladly accept because I know I deserve it.

  Besides, the morning sun was too beautiful to be ignored. I know it only hits this seating area during the morning hours, so now was really my only opportunity to take advantage of this wonderful fall weather we’re having.