Author's note: This one is dark. Very, very dark. Gentle souls who get upset at the abuse of fictional characters should take care reading it. I look forward to hear what you all think.

Puppets

I sat in a diner, and for a moment I turned my attention from my plate of scrambled eggs to watch the TV that was hanging from the ceiling in a far corner.

There was some debate about the upcoming election, and I listened to the talking heads lob softballs at each other for a bit, and then shook my head and went back to my breakfast.

They act like the election matters, that there is an actual choice, which is almost cute in its ignorance.

Real Power doesnt care who the President is, they say jump and whoever is in the office says how high.

Because he’s a puppet.

Just like all of you.

Of course, I’m no better, I’m just a puppet who can see the strings.

I can still remember what I was like before, how I found my power, how I tried desperately to fix the damage I caused, how scared I was to ever hurt another person with it.

I swore I would bottle it up and never use it again.

Unfortunately, Real Power found me, and now I do the thing I wanted to do least in all the world.

And speaking of which, I better finish my breakfast and head out.

I have an appointment to keep.

*****

The neighborhood isnt very different from hundreds of upper-class neighborhoods around the country.

Just because you have a bit of money doesn’t mean you dont feel the pressure to conform.

For this appointment, I’m in a suit and tie, driving a Cadillac ATS, and I have a briefcase on the seat beside me.

Its just a costume, and I’ve worn lots of others depending on the situation. I’ve looked rich and poor, portrayed a general and a foot soldier.
And appeared as both male and female.

I pull up to a decent looking house with a well-kept front yard, and get out, grabbing my briefcase as I do so.

According to the information I received, my appointment makes a big deal of taking Saturdays off to spend with his wife and two kids, so the whole family will be home today.

Unlucky for them.

He isnt a big fish, but he’s been making some ... independent noises lately, and I’m here to send a message of what happens if you try and cross Real Power.

That his family will also get the message is just collateral damage.

Or at least that’s what I will try and tell myself later when I want to lose my lunch.

I ring the bell, and a stuffed shirt answers.

Less than a minute later he’s wondering off to go find the room of the maid of the house.

I make a note to check on him before I leave, and see what he looks like wearing one of her outfits.

Lucky for him, he’s not been included in the message I’m about to send, so he will be able to stop himself crossdressing.

Eventually.

*****

The whole family is in the kitchen, helping to make breakfast.

My main target is not yet 40, and is wearing a muscle shirt that actually shows off his muscles and a pair of sweat bottoms. His wife is about the same age, and wearing a simple sundress that flatters her nicely. They have two kids, a boy and a girl, both in their teens, and currently wearing pjs.

For a moment I just watch them dance around the kitchen and wish to God I didnt have to be there.

But like I said, I’m a puppet, and I have no choice in what happens next.

I drop the briefcase, causing the family to turn and look at me.

Shortly I’m leading them to the master bedroom.

I had considered sitting them down, telling them what was about to happen, and even apologize for what I was about to do to them.

But there wouldn’t be much of a point in asking for forgiveness.

I’m far beyond where any forgiveness can go.

The dad tries to bluster, and the mom tries to plead for her kids, but they dont yet understand what they’re dealing with.

You’d have better luck trying to intimidate a hurricane or plead with a tidal wave.

I give them a small sample of what I can do - and shortly the boy and the girl are making love with each other while the parents watched.

I just tried to keep from throwing up while they degraded each other, until they climaxed, and relaxed.

Once the show was over, I turned to the dad, and said, “I hope you understand now. I can make you do anything - you could be forced to start up an affair with you daughter until you got her pregnant. Or maybe you could be doing your son instead, and imagine how much fun that would be. But i’ve been authorized to offer you a choice.”

“What... what choice?”

“You can sign, of your own free will, some documents I have in my briefcase. It gives my employers total control of your company, and the inventions you are making. You work for my bosses.”

“Or...?”

“Or the little demonstration of my abilities will be repeated, only far worse.”

“Okay, dam you. I’ll sign.”

I went and got the briefcase, and got his signature and his wife’s as a witness, and then put the documents back inside with a snap.

“i’m glad you chose the easy route. But please remember, try and go back on this deal, and I’ll have to come back. And I really dont want to do that.”

He only nodded.

“Oh, one more thing. New uniform policy for your first day on the job Monday is dresses and skirts only. You best go shopping, maybe the wife will help you out.”

“Are you serious?”

“i could make your son go to school in skirts instead, and that would be only the start.”

He hung his head, and whispered “okay.”

“Do your best, you dont want to create a bad impression, or make your new bosses upset with you.”

He nodded, looking shamefaced.

“Have a pleasant weekend.” I said, and then made my exit.

Once I left the house, I got in the car and drove to a nondescript warehouse where I gave the briefcase to other employees of Real Power.

Only after I left their headquarters did I let my real feelings show.

I found a quiet place where I could throw up.

Once I had nothing in me to come out, I washed my face, and went back to my motel room, where I would wait until my next assignment.

I can only hope it doesnt involve seeing that family again, but even if it is, I have to do my job.

I cant even describe how much I hate it, and what I’ve been turned into. or how much I wish I could be free.

And I’ll never be able to tell anyone.

Because I’m just another puppet.