Psychiatrist's Puppet (Loftry University Playthings 3)

"Master Grigori will not save you. He left you in this room with me. Be grateful I'm a calm man, not given to fits of rage. You will settle and take what I give you, or so help me, you'll see a side of me you don't want to see."

Closing my eyes, I slide my lips across her ear, breathing in her scent. I wonder what Jane Doe would smell like. Certainly not like cleaning products and sweat. But underneath it, just below the surface, there's that scent of fear, an acrid undertone that burns the nostrils and stirs the soul. She can try to hide it, but I know. I'll always know. It's the tension in the voice, the tightening of the body, the pounding of the heart - so many signs that are sheer impulse. So many signs that will trigger the fight or flight response if it goes just one more step.

I stare down at Rita's sensible, white, cotton underwear, vowing to never let a submissive of mine wear something so ugly and covering - practical. I want to rip it from her body and tear it to pieces. Not to expose her to my gaze - I don't care enough about her to want to see her naked - I just want to shred the offensive scrap of clothing until it drifts to the ground like bland snow.

If they were a submissive of mine, there would be nothing practical about their clothing. There would be no job that would inspire them to wear such drab attire. No. Everything they wear, from their main outfit down to any hair accessories - if allowed - would be to maximize their allure or keep them in a mind frame fitting my submissive.

A smile teases the edges of my lips as I think about the strange girl in the other room. What would I dress her in? I haven't seen her body yet, so there's not much to go on. Judging by the swell of the fabric laying on top of her, she has an impressive chest, one that would spill out from my hands. A body harness would showcase her curves and leave her breasts at attention, just waiting for my touch. She'd look divine in my ropes. The dark red ones would set off her creamy skin to perfection, as would cane stripes upon her ass, but that's for later.

My cock throbs as I grip the fabric, pulling it up in between Rita's cheeks to expose the globes of her ass. And there it is, that fine line between calm and terror. Her body, though still, quivers under my touch, the fine tremors shaking the cart, making everything clink about, sounding like cannons in the silent room.

Chelsea draws into herself as her eyes dart about from Rita, to me, and then the door. No doubt she wishes Grigori would come in and save her - again. Hopefully, he does the right thing and stays out of the room. His presence would only hinder things, and I have a strange woman to attend to.