The Puppeteer

Chapter 18

As I sit on the mattress, my knees drawn up to my chest, I glare at him with a mixture of hatred and defiance. "I hate you," I spit, the words venomous and laced with malice. But instead of anger, his face lights up with a twisted pleasure. He seems to indulge in my hatred, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light.

"Ah, little puppet," he says, his voice low and husky. "You have no idea how much I enjoy hearing those words from your lips." He takes a step closer, his eyes fixed on mine, and I can feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch.

I look down, unable to bear the intensity of his stare, but he tsks, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. "No, no, little puppet," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. "You need to look at me when we're talking."

I raise my eyes, irritation burning in my chest. "I think I deserve to know your name," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

He chuckles, the sound low and menacing. "You want to know my name?" he repeats, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Very well, I'll give it to you." He tosses a piece of paper at me, and I catch it reflexively.

As I look down, my heart skips a beat. On the paper is a missing person's flyer, with a picture of Lily Garcia, my best friend, staring back at me. The words "Missing" and "Lily Garcia" are emblazoned across the top, and a cold dread seeps into my bones.

"This is my father's doing," he says, his voice devoid of emotion. "She's probably sold, across the border or dead."

Tears spring to my eyes as I stare at the flyer, my mind reeling with horror. I protest, my voice rising in a defiant scream. "No, that's not true! She's not dead! She can't be!"

But my words are cut off as he climbs on top of me, his body layered over mine. He covers my mouth with his hand, his fingers digging into my cheek. "Shh, little one," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. "Be silent."

But I'm not silent. I'm screaming inside, my mind racing with fear and panic. And yet, as I look up at him, I'm aware of something else. Something that makes my skin crawl and my body tremble.

He's hard. Aroused. His cock is pressed against my inner thigh, and I can feel the heat emanating from it. His jaw is clenched, his eyes hooded as he stares down at me. He pushes down, his cock running against my clit, and I bite my cheek to suppress a moan.

I'm trapped, pinned beneath him, and yet, I'm aware of a twisted desire rising up inside me. My nipples are pebbled, and I'm starting to shake, but I don't think I can blame the cold. I ache between my legs, and as I bring my eyes back to his, I glance down and see the hardness of him through his pants growing more rigid.

He shifts, kneeling between my legs, his eyes fixed on my pussy. I try to close my legs, but he grips them open, glaring at me. My toes curl slightly from the intensity of his gaze, the place he kissed on the side of my knee sparking all the way to my core.

All the oxygen in the basement vanishes, and my breath freezes in my chest. My inner walls clench, and I think I'm already soaking from his taboo words alone. He brings his face closer to my pussy, his warm breath hitting me and making me tense all over.

"Mmm," I moan, the sound barely escaping my lips.

He smirks, but barely, and I'm thrown back into bliss as he buries his face between my legs. He licks my clit, sucking it lightly, and I release my lips to slam my palms on the wall on each side of me.

"Ahh," I moan, my voice rising. "Oh God, oh God, oh God."

He swipes his tongue against my folds, sucking them lightly, and I tense with each flick of his tongue. The tip slips against my entrance, and I feel myself opening up, my body surrendering to his touch.

"Mmm, little puppet," he whispers, his voice muffled against my pussy. "You taste so sweet."

I'm lost in a world of pleasure and pain, my body responding to his touch even as my mind rebels against it. He's skilled at eating me out, his tongue precise and intricate as he explores every inch of my pussy. I'm moaning, my voice rising and falling with each stroke of his tongue, my body trembling with pleasure.

"Ahh, yes, yes, yes," I moan, my palms slamming against the wall as I try to contain the sensations building inside me.

He sucks my clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, and I feel myself building towards a climax. His fingers are digging into the backs of my thighs, bruising them most likely, but I don't care. I'm too lost in the pleasure, too consumed by the sensations coursing through my body.

"Little puppet," he whispers, his voice husky and low. "You're so responsive. So eager."

I'm on the edge, teetering on the brink of orgasm, when he pulls back, his face inches from mine. His eyes are dark, his pupils dilated, and I can see the desire burning in them.

"You want to come, don't you?" he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.

I nod, my body trembling with need. "Yes, please," I beg, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smirks, his lips curling up in a cruel smile. "Not yet," he says, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "Not until I say you can."

I'm left hanging, my body screaming for release, as he pulls back and sits on his haunches. He's still hard, his cock straining against his pants, and I can see the desire burning in his eyes.

But he doesn't touch me. He just sits there, watching me, his eyes fixed on mine. I'm trapped, pinned beneath his gaze, and I know I'm at his mercy.

"Please," I beg, my voice cracking with need. "Please let me come."

He just smiles, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. "Not yet, little puppet," he says, his voice dripping with cruelty. "Not until I'm ready."

And with that, he stands up, his eyes never leaving mine, and walks away, leaving me hanging, my body screaming for release.