Psychiatrist's Puppet (Loftry University Playthings 3)

“Unfortunately, we only have time for a shower today. Maybe soon you can enjoy a nice bubble bath.”

My suspicions rear their ugly heads again. He’s speaking like I’ll be staying with him for the long haul. But I don’t know him. He doesn’t really know me. Besides, what doctor would have a patient live with them? It’s unheard of. “That’s okay. I’ll probably be going home with my sister.” If she even exists. His body turns to me, his eyes glowering for just a moment.

“You have needs that they cannot even begin to help you with. You are staying with me until you’re well both mentally and physically. I’ll make this abundantly clear when they see you.”

I freeze in place, watching as he goes back to feel the temperature, as if he didn’t just collapse my entire world around me. It seems like I’m trapped again. He may not be as cruel right now, but he’s holding me prisoner against my will. There have to be laws against this. Some way I can fight it. If Melody is actually coming, she can help free me. I know she will.

Doctor Rayne turns and motions me to step inside, and I do so without a fuss. No use getting his hackles raised. Maybe if I can be a “good girl,” lull him into a false sense of my obedience, he won’t think I will run. As I enter the larger shower, it takes just a moment for him to turn the knob and release the water, several jets at a time, down upon me. I circle in amazement as I look at where all the water is coming from.

Besides the glass door I walked through, every available wall has at least three jets coming out of it. Warm water pummels my skin, making me forget all about my plans to leave. So what if I’m a prisoner? For a shower like this and a promise to not molest me, I’m giving serious thought to renegotiating. I’ll give almost anything to live in a shower like this.

When did I become so weak? So willing to give up anything for basic niceties? Probably when the first man shattered my mind, forcing me to go deep into myself for shelter. Now, something as nice as an elegant shower is making me consider spreading my thighs open for just a chance of being pampered. Besides, other than my sister, there’s nowhere else to go. And if, in fact, she is engaged, she won’t have any time or space for me.

Hanging my head, I let the warm water wash away the sorrow building up in my heart. I have nowhere and no one. Here, this doctor offers me everything: a place to stay, an amazing shower, a smaller place to sleep. Would it really be so bad to just stay?

“Soap up now. You’re running out of time.”

Nodding, not trusting my words, I reach out for a bottle and loofa in the corner, breathing in the dark, woodsy scent, so very much like Doctor Rayne.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any soap for you. I wasn’t sure what scents you liked. I have everything else you need, but soap felt a little more...intimate than panties and bras.”

There it is again, that creeping flush that starts from my chest and rises up my face. Just the way the word intimate rolls off his tongue -. I cut my brain off, not letting it continue that dangerous line of thought. I squirt a dollop of soap and lather it onto the loofa with my hands, marveling at the silky glide between my fingers. I will never take these simple pleasures for granted again. I glance over at the door, dismayed to find Doctor Rayne staring at me with such intensity.

My fingers shake, and I turn around, hiding my body in the water and steam. It feels so wrong to wash myself in front of him. Truthfully this feels far more sensual than anything the other men had me do. At least with them, I was unknown, nameless, a set of holes. With Doctor Rayne, he sees me - truly sees me, and it frightens me more than anything else. I’ll never be able to hide with him. He’ll seek me out and drag me back into the light, not content to let me wallow away in the shadows.

I make quick work of soaping down, not giving in to the fragrant bubble I want to surround myself in, not with him watching. Angling my hips towards the spray, I glance over my shoulder to make sure he can’t see me, then spread my lips apart so the warm water can wash away anything that shouldn’t be there. The steady pounding is not enough to arouse me, but it teases my senses with memories long past. How often did I stand in the shower at my parents’ house and get off under the onslaught of their powerful jets? If they only knew, they’d probably ban bathing altogether. Groaning, I tip my head back, letting the water hit my scalp and slide down my body.

It’s like fingers smearing themselves across my skin, bringing up so many other memories that I’d much rather forget. Crumpling to my knees, I let them overtake me, bring me under. It’s here in these memories that I’m safe. The pain is something I can hold onto, keep in my mind. It’s what convinces me I’m not shattered yet. I can still feel. If I can feel, then I’m alive.

The glass door opens from behind me, displacing the warm cocoon with the chilly air from outside. Cold is good, I think to myself as tremors wrack my body. I know where I stand with the cold. We’ve become the best of enemies, using each other to survive. Then, it’s his warmth again - wrapping me up in his arms, pulling me out of the water.

He doesn’t seem to take notice of his clothes getting wet. He only seems to be concerned with me. Some faraway part is touched, but that too is yanked away down deep where nothing can touch it, same with my other memories. When I’m alone in my bed, I’ll pull it back out and examine it, but only when I’m safe and alone.

The towel he wraps me in is soft, like a cloud. How rich is he? I can’t even imagine even looking at something this nice, much less touching it, tainting it with my wet skin. But he buffs me as if it’s the most natural thing to do, as if I’m worth far more than his expensive towels. Yet another kernel to lock away for later.

“Your shirt.”

“I have dozens more.”

“I’m sorry.”

He pauses for a moment, the towel resting against my skin. “Do not ever apologize unless I tell you you’ve done something wrong. Am I clear?”

I want to fight him, rail at him that he doesn’t own me, no one does. Not anymore. Still, there’s a part inside of me that wants someone to take control. To tell me what to do and when to do it. No second-guessing, no making a mistake because I was following orders. But at what cost? Would it take my soul?

“Yes, Doctor,” I whisper, so quiet I’m sure he didn’t even hear it.

“Good girl,” he murmurs back, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

Heat explodes over me as his lips do wicked things with my pulse. I barely catch myself before a wanton whimper manages to escape. Leading me out of the room, he takes me over to the bed and motions for me to sit down while he rummages through the drawers. To my knowledge, none of my stuff traveled with me. When I was taken, everything I owned was with Billy. If he knew where I was, he wouldn’t be dropping off my stuff. I’d like to think he’d be taking me out of there instead.

Whatever he’s getting for me must be new, just like everything else. Why go through so much trouble for me? He lays down a pair of jeans, a shirt, and an ornate matching bra and panties set. I don’t even want to breathe on the delicate fabric. It looks like spun gold and lace, twinkling up at me in the flickering light. Even when Billy and I joked about getting a nice set for the day he took my virginity, none of them looked like that.

I run my fingers over the rich brocade and sigh. These are for sure fuck-me panties. Glancing up, I note Doctor Rayne’s hooded stare. He knows it too. I have to believe that he’s going to keep his promise, no matter what I’m wearing. So far, the only thing he’s done is spank me, and even that wasn’t erotic. No. It hurt like hell, like a true punishment. I move to stand up, but he places his hand against my shoulder, pushing me back down. I let him, not wanting to destroy this moment with disobedience.

Kneeling down, as if he’s proposing, he sets my foot on his raised knee, pausing to dig his thumb deep into my sole for a moment. The moans that pour out of my throat are ungodly, sex on a stick, fuck me now. As if he’s a fan of the noises I’m making, he keeps on, digging just a bit deeper, giving me a slight bite of pain as he relaxes me. From there, he moves up my calves, kneading the poor, neglected muscles.

Is it possible to orgasm from just a massage? Something tells me I just might. Never has anything felt this good. Not even Billy could rub me like this. He tried, but his movements were clumsy and rough. It was as if he hoped to do a bad enough job that I’d never ask him for a massage ever again. And I didn’t. Not unless I was in pure agony, which thankfully didn’t happen that much. Doctor Rayne, however, knew his way around a body. His fingers curve into every spot that I didn’t even know could be sore before chasing the pain away with a stroke of his fingers.

As quickly as it starts, he pulls away and grabs my panties. I want to whine and beg him to continue, but it would be a surefire way to not get what I want. Instead, I sit there, still as a statue, as he slides one foot into the hole, then grabs the other and does the same. Hunching in front of me, he glides them up my hips until they go as far up as possible with me still sitting. Taking my hands in his, he pulls me up to stand in front of him.

With him still hunched on the floor, it puts his mouth in a dangerous position. His breath fans the hairs on my mound, sending goosebumps traveling up and down my skin. Shivering, I lean down to pull the panties the rest of the way up, only to have his fingers encircle my wrists and pin them to my sides.

“When I am in the room with you, I will be the one dressing you. You are not to interfere or do it on your own. Are we clear? You will stand there and let me care for you.”

Is that what he’s doing? The major wood he’s sporting in his pants tells me otherwise, but as of yet, he still hasn’t broken his promise. Closing his eyes, he leans in, far too close for my comfort, and inhales deeply. My cheeks blaze as he looks up at me, lust simmering in his eyes. As much as I try to disassociate, I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit it turned me on just a little. It shocks the hell out of me. Until him, I didn’t think I could get aroused anymore. This is dangerous.

A loud knock shatters my thoughts, startling me enough to jump in his grip. Doctor Rayne holds me tighter, grounding me before angling his head towards the door. “Enter.”

What? No. He can’t do that. Not while I’m naked. No! I squirm in his grip, wanting to dive back under the bed and be safe, but he doesn’t allow it. I’m trapped between him and the bedframe, and his hands on me are an unmovable force that I can’t contend with.

“Master Richards and Ms. Melody are here, Doctor.”

“Show them to the sitting room. We will be there in a moment.”

“Very good, Doctor.”