Chapter 10: Dance for Me, Puppet

Continued from chapter 9:

“First things first, no proper lady can have the body hair that you do. Let’s get it all shaved off, okay, sweetie?”

Sophie giggles and departs, returning with a steaming bowl of water, a straight razor, a brush, and shaving cream. I hold completely still, disbelieving what is about to happen to me.

The brush tickles as she dances it across my body, covering my chest, back, legs, arms, and private areas. I gasp as she spreads my buttocks, the brush flicking against my most intimate place.

With agonizing slowness, Sophie begins to shave the hair from my groin, the razor gliding over my sensitive skin with surprising gentleness. My cock twitches with each stroke, despite the precariousness of my position.

“Such a good girl, holding so still for me,” she coos. “I knew you had it in you.”

She works methodically, removing every last stray hair until my entire body is silky smooth and denuded. Once satisfied with her handiwork, she sets the razor aside and steps back to admire her creation. Her fingertips trace the newly exposed skin, eliciting shivers that dance up my spine.

“Mmm, much better,” she murmurs.

“Smooth as a baby’s bottom. Or should I say, as smooth as a proper lady’s bottom ought to be?”

She punctuates her words with a sharp smack to my freshly denuded cheeks. I jump, a yelp escaping my lips.

“Now then, what was it you said about puppets?”

Her eyes widen, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. A diabolical plan is hatching in real time.

“Let’s do that next, okay, Ero? Before I run you through hair, makeup, and wardrobe, I am going to make you into a real, living puppet. Can you guess how I’m going to make that happen?”

Chapter 10:

She makes a fist, pantomiming fitting it into a small space, before quickly expanding her fingers and wiggling them around, giggling.

I burst into tears, my body shaking with sobs. Sophie Taylor is a tall girl with large hands. There is no way her hand is fitting in my bottom, right?

Her grin widens at my distress, clearly relishing the power she holds over me.

“Oh, you think that’s bad? Wait until you have to walk around with my hand up your butt. I’m going to make you into my hand puppet and you’re going to dance for me, Ero.”

She continues, smiling as she walks around me, her hands exploring every inch of my punished skin.

“Let’s recap Ero.”

She stops, grabbing me by the balls and gently rolling them between her fingers.

“You are the great Eros Apostasia, Hollywood bad boy and heartbreaker. So far this evening, you’ve allowed a woman thirteen years younger than you, who’s nowhere near as famous, to dress you up in lingerie.”

Each word drips with a mix of playfulness and domination, igniting a fire within me that I can’t quite extinguish.

“You’ve creamed in your panties, and I made you eat your own mess. I’ve spanked you, paddled you, shaved you, and strapped you.”

Sophie Taylor stands before me, her confidence radiating as she revels in her control. I can hardly believe how this evening has unfolded.

“And for the coup de grâce... now you're going to be my puppet.”

Sophie retreats to her dresser, and picking up a bottle of baby oil, she squirts a generous amount of lubrication on her hands, coating them thoroughly.

Grinning like the cat that got the canary, she stalks towards me, the satin of her robe fluttering dramatically.

I thrash against the silk bindings holding my hands, but the anchor in the wall, coupled with the spreader bar, ensures I don't get too far. Sophie giggles, waving her shiny, lubricated hands at me as she walks behind me to take her place.

I go limp in my bondage, crying openly. This is happening. I feel a long, slick finger lubricate my tight, puckered entrance, and with deliberate slowness, I am spread, and a finger begins to push into me.

Sophie Taylor is going to make me her own personal hand puppet, and I can do nothing to stop her…

Sophie takes her time, prying me open with practiced patience. She alternates between thrusting her finger deeper and rubbing slow circles around my tight, puckered rim, savoring every whimper and moan that escapes my lips.

“That's it,” she coos, “nice and relaxed for me.

“You're doing so well, taking my finger like a good little sissy.”

Once she deems me ready, she withdraws her digit, leaving me feeling empty, craving more. She positions her hand, the tips of her fingers pressing insistently against my eager entrance.

“Brace yourself, pet,” she warns, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

“Here comes your new appendage.”

With gentle but firm pressure, she begins to work her hand inside me. My tight muscles stretch obscenely around her invading digits, the sensation intense and overwhelming.

“Push out, that's it,” she guides, her voice a mix of command and encouragement.

“Take it all like you were made for it. Because from now on, this is where my hand belongs. Inside you, controlling you, always.”

I grit my teeth, my face warm with tears, trying to bear the intense pain as she continues to push deeper.

Every muscle in my body tenses as I surrender to the intrusion, my body struggling to accommodate her. I feel like I'm being split open, her hand working its way into a fist, slowly and painfully moving past my sphincter with a lewd pop, as she gains full access.

Giggling, she opens her hand, wiggling her fingers inside of me for the first time.

Sophie Taylor has done it. Her entire hand is inside of me, and I'm her puppet now.

My cock is diamond-hard, leaking precum like a dripping faucet as her fingers dance against my prostate, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

Sophie giggles wickedly as she feels my prostate, watching with delight as my cock throbs and leaks.

“Oh my, someone's enjoying being stuffed full of my hand. I knew you'd love this, my dirty little puppet.”

I'm gasping, my body taut and quivering as Sophie Taylor's hand moves, pumping slowly and deliberately, her long, slender fingers curling and flexing against my inner walls. Her touch is electric, sending waves of sensation coursing through me.

“Let's put on a little show, shall we, Ero?” she purrs, her voice a sultry whisper in my ear.

Reaching around with her free hand, she grips my chin, her fingers digging into my flesh as she turns my face towards the mirror. Her eyes, cold and calculating, meet mine in the reflection.

“Watch yourself, Ero,” she commands, her voice like velvet-wrapped steel.

“Watch as I use you like the fucktoy you are.”

She increases the pace of her hand, her slick, glistening fingers sliding in and out of my stretched hole with practiced ease. Her thumb finds my leaking tip, rubbing teasing circles around it, smearing the beads of precum gathering there.

“Dance for me, puppet,” she coos, her voice dripping with malice.

“Show me how much you love being filled and controlled.”

With her hand inside me, opening and closing like the petals of some dark, twisted flower, she stoops slightly. Her other hand never stops its teasing dance on my throbbing cock.

Suddenly, she frees me from the bondage bars, her hand still firmly planted up my ass, and with a deft flick of her wrist, she unties the rope binding me to the ceiling.

She never stops moving her hand inside me, her fingers exploring, probing, driving me to the brink of insanity. Her breath is hot on my ear as she leans in, her voice a low growl.

“That's it, my little puppet,” she murmurs, her eyes never leaving mine in the mirror.

“Dance for me. Show me what a good little hand puppet you can be.”

To be continued in chapter 11...