The Puppeteer

Part One

Jenny was almost twenty years old and a high school senior. It was embarrassing. By all rights she should have already been in her second year of college, but at a young age her mom left Jenny's biological father with her in tow. They drifted from relative to relative, feeding off their kindness until they grew weary of the burden. When they wore out the welcome of close family, they drifted in and out of the lives of more distant relations. For two years they were on the move, rarely spending more than a few months at any one place. While Jenny longed to start school it simply wasn't possible. Her mother made feeble attempts at home-schooling but abandoned those efforts just as she had Jenny's father. When things became difficult, her mother sought the easy way out.

Eventually only one relative remained, a mysterious great-aunt named Constance. The family cut off relations years ago when the woman married a self-proclaimed warlock and was lured into the shady underworld of black magic. It was a sign of true desperation when they found themselves on her doorstep. Surprisingly, Constance treated them with warmth and compassion. Her husband had passed on several years earlier and left behind a small mansion. The grounds were unkempt and overgrown with weeds and bushes. Thick ivy climbed the walls of the two-story red brick home and gave it an eerie appearance.

Constance allowed them access to a wing of the home. She kept to the other, and either by design or coincidence they rarely encountered one another. Constance spent most of her time locked in a large room at the rear of the home. Jenny saw it once; it was frightening to the young girl. Shelves lined all four walls, and hundreds of mason jars were carefully arranged. None were labeled, and Jenny could only imagine what they contained. At the center of the room was a fabric-draped table upon which rested long, thick black candles. It gave Jenny a cold chill when she saw it, and she never returned.

Now Jenny was on the verge of starting a life of her own choosing. She longed to attend college and get a positive start, but the only way that would happen would be a full scholarship. Three were available, and hundreds were vying for them. Jenny had done well thus far, but decisive mid-terms were fast approaching and her confidence was extremely fragile. She had bad dreams of bombing the tests and a dread developed that had her stomach tied in knots.

"If you let me pull your strings, for you I can do great things." Jenny heard herself repeating the simple rhyme, unsure where she'd heard it. She dismissed it as a by-product of her ever-growing fear and continual nightmares.

Less than a week remained, and Jenny found it impossible to concentrate on her studies. She was continually distracted by that same annoying rhyme and the fear of failure. Sleep was harder to come by, and she lay in bed awake at night repeating those same words "If you let me pull your strings, for you I can do great things."

Jenny didn't speak any words, she thought them. "Okay, who are you and how can you help me?"

Jenny was startled when a voice sounded inside her head that wasn't hers. "I'm the Puppeteer, and I'm closer than you think. I can give you knowledge with my special wink."

"Closer than I think?" she repeated

"I am in a box in the attic above your bed, come to me and I can still all your fear and dread."

The conversation in her head ended as mysteriously as it started. She asked more questions but the voice was gone. Jenny knew it was up to her to go to him, in the attic above her bed. Somehow the Puppeteer knew the agony and doubt she was enduring. What if he could give her knowledge with a special wink? That would solve so many dilemmas Jenny now faced. That promise was a powerful lure.

Both curious and desperate she slipped from her bed and crept from the room wearing a thin white nightgown, which was in sharp contrast to her long jet-black hair. The house was old and creaky, and it was impossible to move about silently, but Jenny did the best she could. Had anyone encountered her they might have mistaken her for a ghostly apparition as her slender form moved from hall to hall in search for a stairway to the attic. Jenny nervously ascended the steps when she found them, and blindly groped in the darkness for a light switch. To her relief a single naked bulb turned on, spilling a yellowish light on the dusty contents of the room.

She retraced her footsteps as best she could and searched for the location above her bed. There was an array of cardboard boxes and luggage containers and Jenny realized the futility of the search. Then a thumping noise sounded, guiding her to what appeared to be a heavy shipping container as tall as her five foot four inch frame. Four rusted latches secured the door.

Jenny tugged and pried on the stubborn latches for several minutes in vain, and then glanced around for a tool of some type. She discovered an old screwdriver and was able to pry the latches open. When the last latch reluctantly yielded, Jenny grew nervous. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she realized she had no idea what she was releasing. A cold chill coursed through her veins as she second-guessed the wisdom of her actions.

"If you let me pull your strings, for you I can do great things." This time it wasn't in her head. Instead it was a muffled voice that emanated from the container. Whatever it was inside knew how close she was to releasing him and became more insistent. "I'm the Puppeteer, and I'm closer than you think. I can give you knowledge with my special wink."

Jenny knew that without his help, her college dreams would go up in flames. And if they did, her life was pretty much over anyway. Desperation overrode logic and her fingers grabbed the door of the box and pulled. The door creaked in protest and it took all the strength she had to pull it off. When it fell open the yellowish light revealed a puppet nearly as big as her. The head was flesh-colored and a wide smile adorned its face. It was dressed in red shorts, white shirt, and a red plaid vest. At first glance the puppet appeared totally innocent, but Jenny sensed an evil aura surrounded it.

Two things that struck her were the oversized hands and large bulge beneath the red shorts in comparison to the rest of the painted wooden body. The fingers had all the same joints and bones as human fingers, giving them great dexterity. She'd never seen such craftsmanship before, and wondered where this thing had originated and how long it existed. Her eyes were drawn to the bulge in the front of the shorts. Apparently the puppet was anatomically correct. She reached her hands out, tempted to view what the shorts covered. As her fingers reached for the snap a clicking noise sounded as its jaw snapped up and down and words sounded.

"Rub my balls and penis, and then tell me yes. But you must be certain, you cannot second guess. I will give you knowledge if I can pull your strings, and when I hear your answer you'll know what the future brings."

Jenny looked at him cautiously. She wanted to say yes, but what did he mean by pulling her strings? He wanted to control her, was that it? Before answering, her soft fingers gently unsnapped the shorts and tugged the zipper down. Her hand reached inside and she felt his wooden penis. His size was similar to that of her ex-boyfriend, and the tip mushroomed into a large head. As a fingertip explored the head, she felt a small opening. Her fingers reached further inside and found two dangling round balls, held in place by some type of soft fabric.

The loosened shorts lost their grip and fell around the puppet's ankles. The more her soft fingers caressed his smooth wooden penis and balls, the more it moved upwards. It appeared to Jenny that her soft fondling was arousing the man... puppet... whatever it was. She felt a strange excitement too, and the more she touched him the hotter she got.

"Yes."

The puppet pushed her aside and stepped forward outside of the container. He reached both hands up, manipulated his fingers as a puppeteer would, and began to chant in some strange language. At its conclusion Jenny felt her body being jerked to its feet as if strings were attached to her limbs. She was suddenly very scared. The innocent-looking face suddenly appeared evil, and she had no idea what was in store.

Jenny had no control over her own actions. It was almost like she was having an out of body experience. She watched as she pulled the nightgown off over her head, revealing her small perky breasts and pussy fringed with dark curls of trimmed pubic hair. She glanced over at him and he seemed pleased, content for several moments just to gaze at her creamy flesh. Next Jenny's body was placed in a sitting position on the floor, legs together. That evil face mocked her as he slowly pulled her legs apart. Jenny knew he was taunting her, making it very clear that he was the puppeteer and not the puppet, not this time. The control gave him considerable pleasure.

Her knees were bent and brought up towards her chest, creamy thighs far apart. Jenny knew he could see every last detail of her body, and she felt shame, embarrassment, and regret. Her hands reached down between her thighs and the fingers pulled the outer folds apart. She remained locked in that position as he admired the beautiful view of her supple pussy, and then kneeled down into a position to fuck her. Jenny couldn't possibly believe a puppet could do that, but any doubts were erased when she watched and felt that mushroom tip pushing inside of her tight canal.

She couldn't feel anything except for the thrusting of the wooden penis. There was no denying the overwhelming pleasure it created within her quivering flesh. Jenny softly groaned into the night and listened to the rhythmic squeaking of the puppet's moving joints as seconds elapsed into minutes. She enjoyed the wildest climax of her short life not just once, but twice. Her mind kept asking, "How does it end for him?"

Her insistent question was answered shortly after, when the puppet seemed to go through the same clenching and shuddering as any man during climax. When his wooden penis withdrew, the tip was leaking with what looked like cum. It wasn't possible! How could he actually cum? What was it?

He looked directly into her eyes, and then gave her a special wink. The room began to spin, and her peripheral vision darkened. Her eyes lost focus. The last thing she remembered was her vision narrowing to a pinpoint, and then passing out. She had no idea how much time had elapsed, but it was still night. When Jenny awoke the puppet was standing, lifeless, in the container the same way he looked when she first opened the door. Had it all been a dream? Was she losing her mind?

As the fog in Jenny's head cleared and she became more and more aware of her surroundings, she realized she was sitting in the nude with the nightgown on the floor beside her. When she looked between her thighs, she saw thick milky cum dripping from her pussy that confirmed the reality of what happened. Jenny looked at the puppet again and could have sworn his painted smile changed into an evil grin, but when she looked again it was gone.

Her entire body was trembling as she arose and slipped the nightgown back on. She slowly worked her way back to the stairs. At some point along the way she began mentally completing mathematical equations that had eluded her for so long. Everything seemed to make sense. The light in her mind finally turned on, and filled her with a renewed sense of hope and confidence.

Part Two

The Trig mid-term was a breeze. The next challenge she faced was French. When Jenny signed up for the language class it sounded so romantic. It stirred up images of sipping wine at outdoor café's in Paris, and walking down the left bank at sunset. Reality turned out to be quite different. Jenny had a hard time grasping another language, and found the study disinteresting at best. Should she invest hours in study and make an effort to pass the test on her own and risk her chance at the scholarship, or visit the Puppeteer again?

Jenny scolded herself for even thinking that way. Her mom was the one who always took the easy way out, and she hated that weakness. Besides, it really wasn't the easy choice. Jenny freely admitted to herself that she found the sex pretty incredible, but it was terribly eerie and frightening at the same time. To lose the ability to feel and control your own body, watching powerlessly as every whim and desire of some evil entity was played out, was the scariest thing Jenny ever experienced. How she could ever consider returning was sheer stupidity.

As she lay on her bed with the French book in hand, her mind was unable to concentrate. Her eyes scanned the words but her mind made no connection, causing her to reread the same page repeatedly. Finally she slammed the book shut in frustration. Again her stomach tightened into knots, realizing it was hopeless. She envisioned a letter arriving, officially announcing her failure to qualify for the scholarship. That image caused her eyes to look up, knowing that the alternative was so close at hand.

But what would happen next time? The puppet craved the power held by the puppeteer, and truly savored the ultimate control. Last time that consisted of sex, but would it remain so? Absolute power corrupted absolutely, and Jenny feared how far the evil entity would go in its lust for power. Despite her fear Jenny craved the solution, knowing she could succeed with his help. Her mind struggled with the decision, frightened as much by the thought of losing the scholarship as facing the Puppeteer himself.

Jenny slid off the bed, trading a pair of jeans and pullover shirt for her white nightgown, slipped under the covers...and waited. She listened intently for the sound of her mom's footfalls, and after an hour the home appeared quiet. Jenny dared not risk detection so she waited another half-hour before easing her bedroom door open, seeking the assistance of the Puppeteer.

This time was faster. She knew where the floorboards would creak and could avoid those pitfalls. Once in the attic the puppet's location was already known, and the latches of his home unfastened with ease. She hesitated and made doubly sure this was the route she wanted to take before opening it. And then her eyes gazed upon the lifeless puppet once again.

Jenny moved quickly, fearing her resolution may crumble. Her fingers unsnapped and unzipped the shorts, tugging them down and revealing the wooden penis and fabric sack that housed two balls. She gently cupped and fondled his balls in one hand as the other stroked his smooth wooden penis. Jenny couldn't be sure, but it seemed she'd been touching him for several minutes without any response. Again she doubted the events of the night before, and wondered if she might be going crazy after all. In a desperate bid to awaken the evil entity within the puppet, she leaned forward and took the mushroom-shaped tip into her warm mouth and sucked on it. Jenny could only imagine what somebody would think if they caught her performing such an act, but her desperation was mounting.

An evil laugh sounded as the wooden penis began to respond, lifting up from its dangling position. Jenny knew she'd been played. The puppet intentionally remained lifeless to see how great her desperation was, and discovered the degree of her need for knowledge. Now he could control her without the strings, and toyed with her as a cat with a mouse.

"Your thirst for my knowledge is evident to see, blow me like no other and make me grunt with glee. Only then my secret wink will have you speaking French, but this is your last visit lest you bring another wench."

Jenny realized that this time there would be no strings. His control had now evolved into denial of what he knew she needed, making her earn the knowledge she sought in a different method. As Jenny willingly licked and sucked on as much of his penis as she could fit inside he mouth, she looked up at his painted face and saw him glaring down at her with that same evil grin she witnessed the previous night. The puppet was now Puppeteer, and thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of power and control.

Jenny took him into her warm, wet mouth until the mushroom tip bounced against the back of her throat. Saliva dripped from the sides of her mouth as she delivered what was requested. What she lacked in experience she made up for with determination. Several minutes passed by and her mouth was starting to tire when the puppet shouted happily and a stream of thick, warm cum erupted from the mushroom tip. Jenny grimaced at the foul-tasting fluid that was discharged, and she swallowed much of it without intending. His cum made her throat and belly tingle. The initial ejaculation was followed by a second, smaller discharge, but it was no less revolting.

She pulled her head back and stared at the wooden tip, watching incredulously as the slit dripped with puppet semen. It looked the same as the little she'd seen, thick and milky white and leaving stringy trails as it dripped to the attic floor. Her stomach began to turn and she looked away, unable to comprehend the bizarre nature of the evil that possessed the puppet.

At his beckoning she looked into his eyes, and as promised the special wink was given with the same effect as last time. She awakened from a deep sleep confused and uncertain, and it took several moments to gather her thoughts and for the fog in her brain to disperse. This time the nightgown was still on her body, a fact that frightened her. Had she not been successful? Then the fragments of memory began to solidify, triggered by the foul taste in her mouth and sticky feeling on her cheeks and chin. She was filled with regret and remorse, and spoke aloud...in French, as if it were a second language.

Jenny rose to her feet and returned to bed, where she slept fitfully. The next morning her French mid-term was completed with ease, with the last obstacle quickly approaching; Philosophy. She suddenly remembered the last words uttered by the Puppeteer; "...but this is your last visit lest you bring another wench." He was tiring of her and wanted a different girl. But how could she find anyone willing to endure the fear and shame?

The answer lies in the question. She had two friends, and neither would willingly allow such a thing. But unwillingly, anything could happen. While being almost twenty and a high school senior had serious drawbacks, it had one benefit; she was of legal age and could provide beverages that were denied her other classmates. That was her only hope.

Chapter Three

At school the next day Jenny cornered her best friend Nikki. She was an attractive red-head one year younger, having celebrated her eighteenth birthday three weeks earlier. Everybody was tense from late-night studying for the mid-terms, and Nikki was no different. But when Jenny suggested getting together for a relaxing night of drinking, Nikki jumped at the chance.

Jenny secured a bottle and mixer, and was prepared when Nikki showed up.

"This house still creeps me out," Nikki complained. She'd been there several times before, but that made it no easier. Only the promise of a private party had gotten her there at all.

They retreated to Jenny's room, where it had been prepared for the event. A bucket of ice rested on the dresser, along with a bottle of Vodka, orange soda, and two glasses. Jenny made the drinks, her own weak and Nikki's very strong. They bitched about the mid-terms and teachers, revealed the guys they liked the most, and talked about the girls who were doing it the most. Jenny observed as Nikki grew more and more drunk, slurring her words and giggling childishly at the least suggestion.