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He doesn’t even hesitate. She doesn’t think about it. She does it because I asked her to, because I have her right where I wanted her to be.

I help her slip her arms through the holes and pull it tight in the back, fastening the bra with only minimal effort. It looks good against her ghostly skin. It’s not lost on me that red is her color. It’s intense, like blood on snow.

I pull her back against me and kneel, crouching behind her. Clamping the panties between my teeth, I grab each of her hips, a thumb digging into each cheek of her ass and pulling it apart, hard.

I can hear her whimper, but is it from the pain in her raw asshole, or the way her pussy throbs for me?

I can see it, slick and glistening even now.

She wants to cum so bad.

I’ll let her, eventually.

I release her and she sighs, and I snatch the lace from between my teeth and help her step into them.

“Good girl,” I tell her.

She whines again, but it’s short and clipped like she tried to bite it back.

She doesn’t want me to know how bad she wants me.

Too bad.

I can smell it.

Stepping around the front of her, I grab the dress from my shoulder and gather the silk between my hands.

“Arms up,” I instruct.

She does as she’s told, raising her arms above her head. I slide the silk over her head, guiding it down her body, my fingers brushing against her skin just enough to make her breath catch, and her flesh rise into goosebumps.

I know what I’m doing, and that’s why I do it.

If she was a little bit braver, I know she’d climb me like a flag pole, but we aren’t quite there yet.

The fabric settles against her, clinging to every inch, every soft curve and angled plane. It takes everything in me not to throw her down on the bed and rip it off of her body.

Fuck, this little shit has a hold on me, and I can’t ignore that.

If I’m not careful, she’s gonna make my dick explode like a hot dog in the microwave.

“Why are you watching me?” she asks suddenly, her voice small but direct.

Her eyes meet mine for a moment before darting away.

I feel my lips curve into something, but it’s not quite a smile.

“Just making sure you’re a good girl,” I say. “You’re not allowed to cum without me.”

A flush creeps up her neck, spreading across her cheeks. She looks away again. Her eyes flick to me and then immediately away again. There’s fear there, yes, but something else is there too.

She likes it.

She likes being my little plaything.

“You will,” I promise. “As soon as I’ve paraded my little puppet for the whole public to see, I’ll make your little pussy drip allover my tongue. Understand?”

She looks down at the floor, quiet.