Psychiatrist's Puppet (Loftry University Playthings 3)

Before I can retort, he sets his cigar back on the ashtray and leaves it there, the smoke trailing from the butt in a mesmerizing dance. I’m not sure which brand he’s smoking, but it certainly smells better than the posers in The Society. I can’t tell anything about a cigar since I don’t personally smoke, but like with everything else, I’m sure it’s as elite and rich as the man himself.

He pulls out his phone and punches at a few buttons before showing me the screen. Several dots clustered in one area seem to flit about as I stare at them. It takes me a moment, but I soon realize the lines surrounding the dots are rooms. It’s like I’m staring at a blueprint.

“I thought piercing her clit with my tracker would keep her safe. Even if Ivan didn’t remove it, someone else could have during the transfer process. The only way to keep her truly safe was to implant trackers into her body.”

“And she knows you did this?”

“Of course. I may be a monster, but she at least knows what’s coming. And trust me, it hurt far less than the piercing. I know. We can have dinner, and I can show you all the new gadgets she’s wearing.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I know Chastity could use some female companionship that's not my maid. She and Chelsea seem to have a bond there that I will never be able to fathom since I’ve not experienced the trauma they have.”

“It’s settled then. Let’s set it up for two weeks from today at my home. You two are always welcome.”

“I’d prefer not. I’ve already had one escape attempt and have now deemed Chastity a flight risk. At least for now. I want her further under my control before bringing her to an unknown location where she can hurt herself or get lost.”

“Fine by me. Your place it is then.”

“I’m considering bringing Jeremy and Melody. I know Chasity would love to see her sister again.”

“You want Melody and Chelsea in the same room? You’re a braver man than I am.” His laughter dies on his lips as he watches the dots, his eyes furrowing into a scowl. “And it seems like she forgets I can track her at will. She’s going somewhere I explicitly told her not to.” He watches for a few more moments, his frown becoming more pronounced. “Yob Tvoyu mat. I guess that whipping she got earlier hasn’t curbed her willfulness. Forgive me, Andrew. I’ll send Sergei in with some stuff to help keep your lady safe.”

“Remember,” I call out, inching away from the dog as it pads after its owner. “You can always use Sasha as an obedience tool.”

The smile he shoots me is feral and wolf-like. “No need, doctor. I’ll just fuck the brat right out of her. Good luck to you.”

“Wait, how much will I owe you?”

“You got my Chelsea talking again. Whatever you need is on the house. I’ll consider us paid in full.”

He darts out, the dog barking at his heels. As I wait for this other man to show up, I let my brain churn through the information. She’s already run once. It would be stupid not to think she’ll do it again. The mind is fickle. If she ever starts to think of me as the enemy, it wouldn’t be farfetched to think she’d run again.

It’s not just for her safety that I want to put these trackers in her; it would also give me some peace of mind. Right now, it’s not a question of whether or not I’ll put them in her. It’s going to happen one way or another. The question at hand is whether or not I tell her. With Chelsea, it’s different. I can’t imagine her telling a kidnapper that she’s traceable. It’s just not in her nature to cower before someone and reveal all her secrets.

Chastity is much different. She’s a gentle soul that wouldn’t need much more than a stern look and the threat of pain to spill all her secrets. It’s decided; I can’t tell her. It’s for her own safety. A man steps into the room with a large briefcase, interrupting my thoughts. He’s built similar to Grigori but with different hair and eye colors. Perhaps all Bratva are built at the same factory and put together on an organized crime conveyor belt.

“Mr. Volkov said to show you works. Here is stuff to keep bitch safe.”

I stare at him for a moment, choking down the flash of anger at him calling sweet Chastity a bitch. No doubt he thinks all our women are the same as Chelsea. If that were the case, he wouldn’t be wrong.

“I need the trackers that Chelsea has in her, and that should be it.”

He pulls his lips back in what I assume is supposed to be a smile. Instead, it looks like a maniacal mask covering the face of a serial killer.

“You need more than this. People too smart now. If no visible trackers, they search until finding.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“You want to face off traffickers, you need traffickers.” He pauses to tap his temple. “I traffic, but only when told. I know what is looked for.”

A sick feeling fills my gut. I shouldn’t judge. Heaven knows most of us in this society are monsters in one way or another. I used to think that using my talents for good outweighed the moments I manipulated someone into doing what I wanted, but I soon learned it didn’t matter what I did. Doing good doesn’t make me a good person. It’s better to know what you are and embrace it instead of living in this quagmire of self-doubt. Sergei knows who he is and makes no apologies. I may not like his line of work, but I can appreciate his honesty.

Looking down into the briefcase, I see lots of jewelry. The gems sparkle up at me, and for a moment, I’m overwhelmed. There’s rich, and then there’s this. Unless all of these were either rhinestones or cubic zirconium, there’s no way I’d be able to substitute one therapy session for any of these. Hell, even charging my premium might get me the solitaire studs, but nothing else.

“Are these real?”

His face pulls down in a judgmental frown. “Mr. Volkov does not deal in trinkets. Everything is diamond. Silver. You want fake, go to other Bratva. We don’t do knockoffs.” I make a move to close the briefcase when Sergei stops me. “Mr. Volkov says to give items. I give you items. You don’t want it? Get rid of it. Not my problem. What is problem is you leaving, and I have case. You don’t take, we have problem. Da?”

My gut twists as I look at the jewelry again. Since leaving my family, I’ve surrounded myself with nice things. Jewelry isn’t something I ever needed, and so I never bought. Just picturing Chastity dressed up with all this finery has me aching in a way I never thought I would. If a diamond is forever and I give her more than she could wear in a lifetime, what would she expect from us? What would I expect? Either way, I can’t wait to see her dressed in diamonds and nothing else. Until this moment, I didn’t know that was a visual I craved.

“Thank you. Tell Grigori I’m most appreciative.”

“Da. Now, to explain. You want girl in many trackers. They find one, they still look. They find several, they may stop. Trick is making it look like accident. First thing when get girl, they strip. Everything. No clothes. No jewelry. If clit or titty piercing, meh.” He shrugs and tilts his head to the side. “They look sexy. Probably leave. But you can’t place all hens in titty basket. That’s why earrings, bracelet, necklace.”

I reach over to grab some of the silver bands and hold them up for closer inspection. They have slots where they lock together with Allen wrenches, just like some of the popular day collars and cuffs. My cock grows hard at the idea of putting her into a permanent collar. Fuck the one I have at home. If this can keep her safe and look good, it’s a good time to upgrade.

“Yes. You see lock. Don’t worry. We don’t break sex dolls. We can cut off.”

I hadn't thought about that aspect before, but I sure as hell am now. “And you know this for certain?”

“Am certain? Never. You always have bol’nyye ublyudki, how you say, sick fucks. But we don’t make money with amputees. Almost sure girl is safe.”

“Almost is not enough.”

“Close enough. Not God. Can promise nothing.”

He rummages through and pulls out a small vial that contains what looks like small grains of rice. I hold it up and study them, in awe of technology like this.

“You need bigger needle like this.” He gestures to the needle included in the kit. It didn’t look much bigger than the ones I administered her medicine with, but it would still hurt much worse than the little pricks she’s used to getting.

“You don’t put in deep. Deep enough. Between tissues. Is small enough you don’t feel, but don’t put it where you want to hurt. You can damage with whips or floggers. Mr. Volkov put in arms and thighs. You put where you want. I can’t make you. Activation and app info inside. Follow to T and you be fine. Any questions, ask him.”

“No, thank you. This was very helpful.” My brain whirls as he packs everything back up and leads me outside. I wasn’t planning on visiting James, but if my idea is going to work, I’ll need his help. Thanking Sergei again, I walk down the long line of stairs and to my car.