Psychiatrist's Puppet (Loftry University Playthings 3)

I pause for a moment, this command so much odder than the other. I was raised right. You don’t stick your tongue out at people. What could he possibly want with my tongue? I glance down at his crotch, catching a glimpse of the bulge in his pants. He’s going to come in me after all. The idea should be repulsive, but instead, I want to suck him down, get him off so he can know how desperately I want to follow.

How much cum have I been forced to choke down as dick after dick assaulted my face? His would be just another one. I can live through this. I can take his dick. The white begins to hover around my vision as I struggle to stay in the present. So far, nothing he’s done has been like those other men. However, by being male, that’s all my body needs to shut down, to prepare for the upcoming assault.

“Where does your mind go?”

The words are whispered against my ear, the featherlight breath stirring an errant curl that dropped down near my temple. I shiver, my body begging me to stay here with Doctor Rayne, but my mind wanting to go back where it’s safe. Back to the beach. Back with Billy. The water laps at the corners of my brain, begging me to just give in and dip down below those waters. It’s there. I can feel it. It’s hovering just out of reach.

“Come back to me, sweetheart.”

Fingers drift back to my clit, the soft sensation bringing me back to the brink. My vision clears to reveal the doctor’s eyes, not Billy. Am I relieved? Am I sad? I can’t even tell anymore. All I can feel is my heightened arousal and the painful bite of him dragging it out.

“There you are. Good girl.” He pulls his fingers away, and I want to whimper, but my tongue hanging out of my mouth makes it very hard to do. “I want you to see what you do to me, my dear. I want you to see the effect your discomfort has on me.”

Using one hand, he unbuttons his slacks and unzips his pants. Pushing the flaps to the side, he reveals sensible boxer briefs, nothing fancy or extravagant. Given the look of his home, I almost expected silk boxers or some other frippery.

Poking out of his band is the head of his cock, and God help me, but my mouth waters. Mortification fills my brain as saliva drips from my tongue. I go to pull it back in, but he grabs it with his fingers and shakes his head.

“I didn’t give you permission to close your mouth. If you can’t keep it open, I have no problem making it to where you can’t close it at all. Trust me, I can handle bodily fluids.”

Blood drains from my face as I drop my jaw, not giving him any opportunity to break it or worse. The gleam in his eyes tells me something; I just wish I could understand. There’s so much that I just don’t understand.

“That’s better.”

He slides his hand up my jaw to cup my cheek. I don’t mean to, but I flinch away from his touch and regret my actions as terror fills me. His eyes never harden. It’s like he didn’t even realize I moved, which is impossible. Lips quirking up, he pulls back and slides off the bed.

I want to close my eyes as I hear him rummaging around somewhere behind me, but I don’t dare. He didn’t say I could. I brace myself as I wait for the blow of some unnamed item to strike my skin. My heart pounds in my chest. Can he hear it? Once again, he’s in front of me with a bit of metal and leather in his hand.

“Before your mind goes too far gone, this is a claw hook mouth spreader.” He lifts it higher and shows off the metal ends. “It keeps your mouth open while still allowing me access to everything.” He drops it back onto the bed and lays a hand over my heart for a moment. “But we won’t have to use that, will we? Because you’re going to be my good girl. Aren't you?”

I nod, humiliation climbing the back of my neck as spit drips onto his arm. He looks down at it then smiles before pulling back. “Now, where were we?”

Though I hadn’t noticed before, his pants are gone, leaving him in just a shirt and his boxer briefs. The bulge behind the cotton is massive as he strains against it. Moisture drains from my mouth as I stare, transfixed. At that moment, I change my mind about wanting to taste him. There’s no way he’d even fit into my mouth. Too bad my body doesn’t get the same message.

My mouth fills with saliva, and I screw my eyes shut, praying more doesn’t drip out. But just like with everything else that’s happened in my life, God doesn’t listen. Mortification fills me as I feel the wetness sliding down my chin and neck. I open my eyes again, detesting the humor in his gaze.

Winking, he hooks his hands into the band of his underwear and eases them down, letting his erection spring free. Forget massive. Though I was barely aware of the things those men did to me, I’m pretty sure no one had a dick that size. Then again, they could have been putting all manner of things in me, and I wouldn’t know. My body clenches, but this time, it’s not in pleasure. Fear slithers its way into my heart, stealing my breath.

“Shhh, shhh, little one. I’ve promised that I’m not going to penetrate you unless you’re begging me for it. We have a long way to go before that is even a possibility. I’m more than able to wait, but are you?”

His fingers slide across my pussy again, and I arch into his touch. At this rate, I’ll be willing to sell my soul for an orgasm. So like me. So like the little harlot my mother accused me of being. A loud, wet smack fills my ears before I can even register the pain of his slap. With my tongue stretched out, it’s hard to make any sounds that don’t sound at all sexy. They’re pained, raw, animalistic.

“I need your mind here with me. I don’t care what you think about in your own time, but right now, you exist to serve me, to please me. Your mind should be on your wrongdoings. The fact that you can think at all tells me I’m not stimulating you nearly enough. Perhaps we should amend that.”

His fingers are once again replaced with that evil square as he starts the rhythm all over again. Everything hurts. My shoulders burn at being outstretched so long. My jaw aches. I don’t even care as much about the drool anymore. I just want to be taken down and held by Doctor Rayne until the hurt goes away. I can’t even question why I want comfort from my captor. I can’t think of anything else except the throbbing need building in my core.

“Yes, that’s it. Moan for me.”

Was I moaning? I can’t even tell. All I hear is his harsh breathing and the steady slap against my pussy. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, Doctor, may I get off?”

Did I just say that out loud? Fuck.

“Yes, you did say that. And what did I tell you about your language? I’ll let it slide this once since you’re obviously delirious with need, but next time, it’s my cum washing out your mouth. Understood?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Good girl.”

He pulls the instrument away and replaces it with his fingers. A sigh fills my brain as that familiar spiral builds in my gut. I clench on air, desperate for something to fill that empty space, even though the thought alone is enough to fill me with terror. I force my body to stay calm. I can’t alert him that I’ve let my mind drift again. He’s liable to use that stupid square on me again. And, as much as I hate to admit it, his fingers feel like heaven against my sore, abused skin.

As I near the peak, he pulls away, leaving me on that edge. I groan, not even attempting to stop the tears the slide down my cheeks. The need to come is so painful. It’s an ache that only he can satisfy. Why did he stop? Before I can register what’s happening, his fingers slide against my tongue, smearing my essence across it. The taste of my arousal explodes inside my mouth. I’ve never tasted myself before. I’ve never let myself get so far gone as to do that.

“Clean them off. I want every bit of you off of me.” His voice is deep and husky, an auditory testament to how turned on he is. The fact that he burns for me just as much as I for him spurs me on. Maybe if I do a good enough job, he’ll get me off. Closing my lips around his fingers, I suck on his wet digits, shaking at the guttural moan he lets out. My mind drifts to a place it’s never been before, even with the drugs.

It’s almost as good as the place his pain sent me to. At this moment, my only thought is pleasing him. Nothing else matters. Not my mom, not my boyfriend, not even my time with the traffickers. Nothing intrudes. It’s just him and me. Once he feels that I’ve cleaned him enough, he slides his fingers out, rubbing the pads against my tongue, sending another shiver through me.

“Good girl. You may close your mouth now.”

Yes. Finally. He’s going to finish me.

Instead of going back down to my pussy, he reaches up to undo my arm. The useless limb flops at my side as he wraps his free arm around me to hold me steady as he undoes the other. Limp, I collapse onto him, soaking in that warmth. Exhaustion floods my body as the adrenaline starts to wear off. Everything begins to crash into me at once, leaving me a shaking, quivering mess in his arms.

Leaning me over, he lays me on the bed so he can undo my ankles. I’m grateful for the chance to lie down, but my body still hums with unmet need. “Please, Doctor -.”

He skims his palms up the backs of my legs and grips my ass, digging into the pain spots he created earlier. I cry out at the unexpected sensation, but he soon switches to soft strokes and gentle pats. The bed dips as he climbs up next to me. His breath tickles my skin as he places soft kisses up my spine. I resist the urge to arch up to him like a cat in heat. I’m helped by the fact that I don’t think I can move even if I wanted to.

“Only good girls get to come. Remember that for next time. I so want you to be my good girl.”

His fingers slide across my hair as he shushes me, whispering nonsensical, filthy promises into my ear. Pulling back, he eases off the bed and walks away. I can’t stop the tears now. My body shakes as sobs wrack my body. It’s not just the lost orgasm. That’s part of it. The burning ache is not going away, and something tells me if he catches me touching myself, it’s going to end very badly for me.

“Draw a bath. We will be there shortly.”

I don’t even get the chance to see who he’s talking to before he gathers me into his arms and rocks me back and forth, letting me cry against him. It’s comforting in a way, lulling me with the rhythm. He doesn’t try to stop me. Instead, he just keeps running his hand down my hair as he soothes me. I haven’t been able to let go. Not since I was captured. The relief at being able to drain myself of these horrid emotions is almost as relieving as it would be to have him get me off. Almost.

His cock is still hard against my back and twitches with every sob. He likes me crying. He likes my suffering. That should be abhorrent to me. It should make me shove him away and try to run if I can. But I don’t. I lay there and let him soothe me. I take from him as much as he’s taken from me. If he’s offering comfort, I’m not going to deny myself. I’ve been doing that for way too long.

As he lifts me off the bed, I realize that even though he’s not bulky, he’s still very strong. Then again, it’s not like I gained any weight while being a sex slave. I’m sure they fed me since I’m still alive, but I don’t remember any meals. I don’t remember a time where I sat at a table and ate. I don’t remember anything. It’s nothing but a blur of pain and agony. Perhaps it’s better I don’t remember. More than likely, the food they forced down my throat was for nutrition only and not for taste.

My fingers slide up his chest as he clutches me close to his body. So warm. So firm. I drift over to his nipple, feeling emboldened in his arms. He hisses as I drag a nail across it, smiling as it hardens under my touch. Two can play at this game, but I know he will always play to win.

The bathroom is even more ornate than the one he had me in earlier. The clawfoot tub in the center steams, the tendrils drifting up to a massive skylight that drips moonlight onto the whole scene. How long has it been since I’ve truly seen the moon? I tip my head back, basking in the shafts of light, not noticing or not even caring, as he settles me down into the water.

“I’m going to let you soak for as long as you need, but I’m not leaving you alone in here. Idle hands are the devil’s playground and all.”