Psychiatrist's Puppet (Loftry University Playthings 3) - Page 23

Of course he wasn’t. As if I would be so lucky. Trying to ignore my throbbing clit, I instead focus on the warm water easing my sore muscles. One by one, my knots start to loosen until I’m just lying there, my own Ophelia, though, knowing Doctor Rayne, he would probably not even let me dip below the surface like I did as a child. Closing my eyes, I press my luck and sink down, letting the heat wash over my face.

The pressure of water is soothing as I let myself drift further. How easy would it be to just stay like this until I never felt again? As the traitorous thought enters my head, strong arms seek me out from my cocoon and drag me back to the surface. Back to reality. Back to disappointment.

No words are spoken as he pulls me out of the water and wraps me in a towel. Once I’m dry enough for his liking, he takes me back to the bedroom and opens up the cage. I don’t even wait for him to give me instructions. I crawl in, happy to have a space of my own to mull over everything that’s happened today. Chuckling, he locks me in, and I should be scared, but instead, I feel safe. True, I can’t get out, but then no one else can get in without his permission.

“Fix everything the way you like it, then lie on your back with your hands stretched out the back bars towards the wall. And don’t dawdle. I’ve been lenient with you and would hate for that to change.”

Well, that ruins my plans. I plump up the pillows and blankets, surprised that they offer enough padding to make everything comfortable - very much like a luxurious cocoon. He definitely knows what he’s doing. How many other women has he kept prisoner beneath his bed? The shaft of jealousy that flares to life is uncomfortable, and not because of the sensation it causes but because of the action itself. I have no right or reason to be jealous of my jailer.

Once I’ve fooled around for as long as I can, I lie down on my mess of pillows and reach my hands out. A set of soft leather cuffs surround my wrists, with a long chain connecting each. A bar from the cage keeps me from bringing the chain all the way inside. It’s long enough that I can move about and turn in my sleep, but not long enough that I can reach anywhere pertinent.

Fucker thought of everything. Doctor Rayne smiles and ruffles my hair before standing up and leaving my line of sight. I stare at the wall, longing to reach out and scratch on it, noting the day. Isn’t that what captives do? Don’t they keep track of things like this to help retain their sanity?

I reach my arms out as far as they will go, but it’s not enough to touch the wall. Maybe he thought of that too? Maybe that’s why the bed is pulled so far away. A soft squeak of springs alerts me that Doctor Rayne has climbed up on the bed, and my stomach flips as I picture him lying there in the dark with me. True, a mattress separates us, but it’s still closer to a man than I've been in years. Soft moans reach my ears, and heat flushes my face when I realize what he’s doing.

The moans coincide with the squeaking of the mattress, making it unmistakable that he’s getting off. My own clit throbs in response. I turn onto my stomach and grind against the pillows, hoping to find my own relief. It’s not fair that he gets to get off, and I can’t. Only good girls get to come. Shame replaces my arousal.

I didn’t set out not to be a good girl. I stare again at the wall, desperately wishing I could mark it. Something to show that I was here and not just a figment of someone’s imagination. Tears leak out from my eyes once more as the enormity of my situation slams into me.

* * *

Andrew

Groaning softly, I cup my balls and sink into the blankets. Cum pools on my stomach with a line going from my head to the dip in my abs, but I don’t care. I don’t want to move. Not yet. Turning my head, I look at the mirror in the corner. It’s tilted so I can watch my patient, but she can’t see me. Even now, she strains against her bonds, tears glistening in her eyes.

Perhaps it was a bit cruel to leave her so wet and wanting, but it was the only recourse. There’s no way I’ll break my word and violate her, not when so much is riding on her becoming loose and complaint with me. Forcing myself would make me no better than the monsters that raped her. At least with me, she wanted my touch. She can deny it with her dying breath, but she moved with me, danced with me, even though she couldn’t hear the music quite as loud as I could.

As she settles down, her eyes drifting shut, I ease off the bed, grabbing the towel nearby to soak up as much of my fluids as I can. Not wanting to disturb her, I creep over to the bathroom, looking up at the mirror until I can no longer see her face. I don't want to keep her chained up all night, just until I know she’s deep asleep. The water from the shower scalds my skin, wringing tension out of my tight muscles.

A sigh leaves my lips as I tilt my head back and let the water cascade over my chest and stomach. I wasn’t expecting to go that far with her today. I wanted to ease her in, coax her over to the darker side. Instead, I thrust her, pussy first, into the fray. Then again, I didn’t expect her to take to it so well. She might have protested, but her body opened up for me in a way I didn’t expect after all the trauma she endured.

My balls start to tighten again as her whimpers float through my mind. I can’t wait until I can actually slide deep inside her, but that will take lots of work and even more trust. Grabbing the shampoo, I lather up and scrub at my scalp before soaping down with a bright, citrus scent. Not conducive for sleep, but definitely a pleasant smell. Ducking my head under, I rinse my entire body and stay there for a few more moments to gather my thoughts.

I know what I want to do to her, how I want to mold her, but how acquiescent will she be? Will she let me heal her, or will she fight me tooth and nail. If I were being honest with myself, I would hope she’d fight. That would make breaking her all the more delicious.

Soft snores reach my ears as I pad my way back over to the bed. Bending down, I unlatch her wrists and watch in fascination as she turns over onto her side and curls into a tight ball. Even in her sleep, she puts as much distance between us as possible, as if her subconscious still sees me as a predator, and it should. She should definitely fear me and my darker desires. Smile on my lips, I crawl into bed, anticipation about tomorrow’s training causing my heart to pick up a touch and my flagging erection to go at about half-mast.

* * *

She isthe epitome of everything divergent of being a graceful young woman. Mouth agape, loud snores pour from her lips. The sheets are twisted about her body showing off a fair amount of skin and breasts, making up for her disheveled appearance. Unable to resist, I slide my hand through the bars and skim my fingers over the soft skin.

Her snoring stops, but her breathing remains deep and even. Trying my luck, I pluck at her nipple, smiling as her breathing shifts and turns to soft whimpers. My smile twists as I change up my grip, my fingers turning cruel. With a gasp, her eyes fly open as her gaze flits about until it finds mine.

“Good morning.”

“G-good morning?”

“It’s time to get the day started. Come.”

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