Date: Sat, 28 Nov 2009 21:59:48 -0500
From: tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Behind the Puppets

			    BEHIND THE PUPPETS
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     The whole thing was my fault, both of them. First was making the
mistake of going with a friend to the gay bar not so far from the
studio. While there I had met an undeniably handsome stud who was just
loaded enough to be more than a bit amorous. He was in the act of nibbling
on my neck and I was laughing when I looked to the left for a moment and
back, did a double-take, and looked again.
     Stanley Rheingold was at the bar, looking my way. Yeah, THE Stanley
Rheingold, the mastermind behind Rheingold's Golden Realms Puppetry
Company. His morning show "Golden Realms" was a steady staple for over a
million children in the four-state area. A show with puppets playing the
parts of kings, queens, princes, knights, dragons, ogres and elves. And one
human there among them, to help the storyline along with narration and
interaction with the puppets. Me, James Sommers, known to one and all on
television as "Tom of Shiningbrook."
     So you can see why my only thought at seeing Stan Rheingold was "Oh,
shit!" I fended off the handsome hunk with my regrets and slipped out the
back door. But he had seen me, seen me clear.
     But that was only the first mistake I'd made. The second was the next
week. I hadn't seen a bit of fall-out from my little indiscretion (after
all, Stanley hadn't been there to play a game of darts), so I was being a
lot more open about my sexual orientation at work. Lots of the guys had
already figured it out, it turned out, and with about half of them, I was
preaching to the choir. Plenty of them were bonafide, certifiable Friends
of Dorothy. You figure that about the hairdresser at a studio, but the
massively muscled stagehand, too? Turns out he was dating the hairdresser!
     Anyway, on to my second mistake. We'd been talking over the current
plotline and Myron (the hairdresser I mentioned) had asked me which one I
thought was cuter, Sir Lottaheart the valiant slayer of dragons among the
"Golden Realms" puppets, or Prince Goodasgold, the fair-haired rescuer of
fair-haired maidens from the ogres that captured them with maddening
regularity.
     I should explain about Stan's puppets in case you live someplace
they've never been seen. He used hand puppets capable of being operated
with one hand, with the thumb and ring finger working the arms, and the
index and middle fingers worked the head. Stan's major accomplishment was
that he had the heads wired so he could make the mouth move and talk as
well, no mere bobbing of the head so many puppeters resort to in lieu of a
moveable mouth. All of his puppets (from the waist up only, of course) had
a good bit of detail on their bodies as well as their three-inch tall
heads, more than a simple sleeve-like body. Stan even had multiple heads
for his puppets that he could switch, which would let his characters smile
or frown or such things. One of the great things about being one of the
F.O.D. (as Myron abbreviated it), was that he felt free to deliver a bit of
gossip to me, which was that Stanley had a few very special heads for his
puppets for, shall we say, those intimate occasions. I didn't believe it
myself (a two-inch tall head doesn't speak about inspired blowjobs to me),
but man, you have to admit, it was juicy, not to mention fun to think
about!
     Stan was a brilliant and creative man, but that was about all he had
going for him. Stan was a nice guy, and a great boss, not at all the prima
donna nightmare you normally associate with such. But the man who had been
given all these gifts didn't have the gifts that can often matter the
most. Stanley was only about five foot three inches tall. He was cute
enough, for his size, I mean, but he combined his lack of stature with a
painfully extreme shyness. I think he turned the management of the "Golden
Realm" productions over to a director in order to keep from having to give
orders himself.
     So Myron's story about the puppets being, shall we say, equipped for
special company, was more than a little believable. If you gotta date
Mr. Hand, after all, why not deck him out with the majestically studly body
of Sir Lottaheart or the handsome face of Prince Goodasgold? Which was how
the subject came up and the question for me, which one did I think was
cuter?
     I'd been high on alcohol during the first mistake, but this second, I
was high on companionship and good-fellowship, which can make you act just
as stupid. "Which one would I want? Why should I have to choose between
them? Just strap one to each hand, and let them share me!" And I laughed
uproariously.
     And Stan was there, at the next table over. I'd known he was there,
but had semi-forgotten it while my friends and I were talking. Stan often
ate alone and was so quiet on those occasions, it was easy to forget about
him. He always wore this all-black costume, including a face mask with
black-nylon-covered eyeholes while performing, which let him blend into the
background all too easily, both on-stage and off.
     That next week, the entire company went on a location shoot. We did
this from time to time for a week or so, getting outdoor shots during a
show which we could use again and again. This time, we went up to the edge
of the snow which was now falling in the mountains. Lots of trees with snow
in their boughs, the ground was spotted with snow here and there, the rest
had melted and run off. Lots of really interesting backgrounds for fighting
dragons in. I got pretty cold wearing my costume here (I was the castle
servant and personal confidante of all the characters, this let me give my
narration and commentary fairly seamlessly), a pair of tights and a tunic
which wasn't really long enough most of the time. Topped with the wig and
playing-card-style hat, I looked the part okay. I was just frigging
freezing my buns off! I spent as much time as I could snuggled up to the
fire we had going in a metal barrel nearby, but I was courting a cold by
the time we wrapped up shooting for the day. I'd had a hot meal which
combined with the rough day to make me incredibly sleepy, and I decided to
head for my trailer (more like a large box ten-by-ten feet in size, one of
three of them on the back of a flatbed truck, a real home away from home)
and get some badly needed shuteye.
     I'd been asleep about two hours, when I woke up, realizing that I'd
heard something. I wasn't sure what. It was just our crew out here, we'd
set up in a piece of National Forest that had isolation going for it and
nothing much else. A beautiful place, no doubt, but not on the tourist's
list of places to see.
     The only light in the room came from the lights we'd set up outside,
it came in a window and lit up things in a yellowish way. My bed was lit by
this light, but nothing much else. Stan had been active in the placement of
the trailers and the lights, I'd noticed, but placed no real importance to
it; for all I knew, he'd planned to use some of it in one of the shots. I
hadn't noticed any of this until I woke up just now.
     A skittering sound inside my room, with the light from outside in my
face, I couldn't see a thing. "Is someone there?"
     "Just me." came a very familiar voice. Trouble is, that voice was of
Sir Lottaheart!
     Blinking, I looked over to the side of my bed, and there he was, in
all his radiant splendor, visible from the waist up as usual from the side
of my bed. Sir Lottaheart really was a gorgeous specimen if he'd been
alive, instead of a puppet attached to... "Stan? Stan, is that you?"
     "Nay, kind Tom of Shiningbrook," (my character in the "Golden Realm"
show), "it is merely I, Sir Lottaheart."
     "And I, Prince Goodasgold." the other puppet rose up from below the
bed. Stan must be kneeling on the floor, to bring these two to my bedside
as he had. "We came to speak with you in private."
     "Come on, Stan, this isn't funny." I said. I was covered with the
blanket, but under that was wearing only a pair of rather ratty
underwear. "What's going on?"
     "We have heard of your interest." Sir Lottaheart said to me (honest,
I'd been doing this show for almost two years now, these voices of Stan
were like different persons to me by now!), "We spoke of this, Prince
Goodasgold and I, and felt that, given your many kindnesses to us, we could
but repay you by coming to you in this way."
     "In what way?"
     Prince Goodasgold was nearer my head, he reached up and grabbed the
top of my covers with his hands (Stan was that adept, and in my bemused
state and long association with the show, I did think it was Goodasgold's
hands, and not Stan's fingers, puppets can do things to your head when
you're around them a lot!), and Prince Goodasgold walked down the edge of
the bed (I said it did things to your head) and took my covers with
him. When he reached Sir Lottaheart, the knight joined him in pulling my
covers down well below my crotch.
     "And now, fair Tom, we shall express our appreciation to you for all
your help to us over our acquaintance." Sir Lottaheart said.
     The hem of Sir Lottaheart's gown (the hem of the puppet, that is, with
Stan's black-clothed arm below it) brushed my leg as he moved toward my
crotch, and I watched that marvelously masculine puppet headed for my
basket and I did, I forgot about Stan being the real orchestrator of this
and I was about to have a noble knight on my groin and I threw a hell of a
boner.
     Sir Lottaheart got to my goodies and the underwear wasn't much of an
obstacle though I remained fully clothed. Sir Lottaheart though, wasn't the
kind to give up, he grabbed my pud through the fabric and I felt that
muscled chest against my dong and I groaned.
     Prince Goodasgold, at the same time, had come up to one of my nipples
and I learned something interesting. Myron's story about "special heads"
wasn't all fabrication! I don't mean that Prince Goodasgold had a mouth
that could suck cock, but he did in fact extrude a tongue that began to
lick at one of my nipples! Honest! Soft, moist and flexible. His head had
to move to make the tongue move, but by then, I was forgiving the flaws of
puppetry big-time. Any puppet who can lick your tit for you is worth
cutting some slack for!
     So I had a prince on my nipple and a knight on my dick. Sir Lottaheart
had managed to free my dong from the briefs and it was sticking up, a dark
pole in the paleness of the white sheets of my bed. I could see the black
form of Stan in his black outfit as a shadowy figure on the bed. Somehow,
though, as always, the puppets he manipulated were more real than he was to
me. Sir Lottaheart wrapped his body about my cock and began to give me a
stroke job in earnest!
     Prince Goodasgold moved up to run his tongue over my face. I guess
there was some sort of moisture in a bulb or something because that tiny
tongue of his was still wet and I felt it flicking in and out as he kissed
my cheek, tiny dollops of wetness that turned the dry kiss of a puppet into
the wet kiss of a real human being however small.
     Like I say, I had dealt with these characters of Stan for a long time
and they had become more than creations to me. After all, do you really see
Jim Henson when you watch Kermit the Frog in those movies or that old TV
show? Or are you watching a frog talking to you without questioning just
how he is talking? No, Kermit is real to you and a full-fledged,
three-dimensional being with his own life to you, even though you know down
deep it is all foam and rubber and felt material. It was like that for me
and these "Golden Realm" creations. I was again Tom of Shiningbrook, only
now it was nighttime and the denizens of the castle had come to reward me
for all my services.
     "Oh, God, oh, God!" I moaned as my cock began to surge with that old
familiar feeling of heightening desire. "Yeah, Sir Lottaheart, that's it,
stroke me, faster, please, kind knight, faster!"
     "Always." said Sir Lottaheart and the puppet head resting against my
shaft as the arms held me tight was as warm and real as any I'd ever had
there. "I shall give you endless nights of pleasure, if you will but let me
enter unto you."
     "Yes, oh, yes!" I gasped. "Please, Sir Lottaheart, take me, let me
feel your manhood within me!
     And in my current condition, I truly believed this short hand-puppet
could in fact fuck me.
     "May we share you in this way?" was what Prince Goodasgold asked
me. "I feel we could give you the greatest pleasure if we both had
possession of you."
     "Yes, yes, whatever!" I sobbed. "Please, Your Highness, won't you
share me with the great Sir Lottaheart, take me both at once, please,
please!"
     "If you will but turn over onto your stomach for us, then." Sir
Lottaheart suggested, and I complied. As I turned, the noble pair of
puppets took the opportunity to skin my briefs from my body and I flopped,
naked and pliable, onto my stomach. I felt the shifting of the bed as these
two valiant warriors readied themselves.
     "Now raise yourself up that we may enter you the easier." Prince
Goodasgold asked.
     Shivering with my lust, I complied, ended up with my knees up to my
stomach, my buttock outstretched and available. "Now I am yours." I said.
     I felt the hard rod push into me and I moaned. Full sized, it was, and
I didn't know which one's it was, but I didn't care, either.
     "So warm, good Tom, so warm!" Sir Lottaheart sighed.
     "Warm he is, and his body welcomes us." Prince Goodasgold agreed. "I
think we can begin to enjoy him if we will but move together."
     I felt the two puppets rest their chests upon my shoulder blades,
their little arms clung to my sides and the cock in my ass began to pump in
and out of me.
     "Oh, yeah, fuck me, Sir Lottaheart, Prince Goodasgold, fuck me, oh,
yeah, fuck me, yeah!"
     I grunted. "Yeah-ah-ah-ah-ah!" as I was rocked from the frenzied
thrusts of the virile pair of puppet heroes as they plowed into me. I
really wasn't questioning this lovemaking, they could be puppets on Stan's
hands and I could know that they ended at some point about my ribcage, and
what was below was all Stan. My logic wasn't connected just then,
though. Like a child who believes and doesn't believe in Santa, both at the
same time, I believed I was being serviced by this noble knight, this
charming prince, both together, in the single pud that was pistoning in and
out of me.
     "Ah, ah, good Tom of Shiningbrook, I fear I already am reaching my
peak." Sir Lottaheart grunted.
     "I, too, am closer than I wish to be to my delight." Prince Goodasgold
added.
     "I don't care." I guttered. "I want your come in me, pump me full, oh
valiant warrior, most munificent Highness, give it to me, give it to me!
Uh-huh-uh-uh-huh!"
     "I am rising, I am rising!" Sir Lottaheart moaned.
     "I am nearing my goal." Prince Goodasgold sighed.
     "Me, too, oh, oh, me, too!" I grunted. "Ah-HA-HAH-AH-AH-GUH,
UHH-KUHHHH!"
     And I squirted my load onto my bed, held by my beloved puppet friends,
the two of them as soft and warm and real as they could be to me.
     "Ah-ah-ah-uh-huh!" Sir Lottaheart groaned.
     "Ah-ah-UH-UH-HUH!" Prince Goodasgold added.
     "Ah-huh, KUH-UHHHH!" Sir Lottaheart concluded as the hot cock in my
ass sprayed even hotter juice into me.
     "AH, TOM, TOM, I'M COMING, OH, OH!" Prince Goodasgold moaned as the
flood of jizz continued, dripping out of my ass and running down my legs.
     "GOOD TOM, GOOD TOM, OOH-OH-HOH!" Sir Lottaheart was ending his
climax.
     "Oh, oh, Tom, so good, Tom, so good!" Prince Goodasgold was running
out of breath.
     And then there was only the panting of their breaths, sometimes one,
sometimes the other, and sometimes...something else was making that
sound. I couldn't guess what it was.
     There was the cruel glare of a flashlight, someone had dared to open
my trailer door without knocking and entered without asking permission to
enter and his harsh white light showed everything to me.
     Stan in his black outfit including the mask on my bed. Two puppets on
his hands, only puppets now, not a noble knight and kindly prince at all,
just a rather small and quite frightened master puppeteer. And under him,
there was me, all white and sweaty and come-splattered inside and out.
     By noon the next day, everyone was talking about it. Myron had a field
day as you can imagine, he went from a good friend of mine to me ready to
kill him if he didn't shut up and fix my hair and do it right, damn it! We
got through that last day of shooting after interminable takes. I wasn't
missing my cues and Stan never heard of doing such a thing...but the crew
was unable to contain their giggles.
     I was relieved to get back home to my own bed by the next
evening. Such a memorable love session I had going, all of it cut down to
something sordid by a nosy security guard. Hell, you hear male groans
coming out of a trailer in the wilderness, what did he think it was, a
wolverine in there?
     Maybe I should quit the show at the end of the season. Another dozen
or so shows to go, though, maybe I could talk to Stan and get out of the
contract anyhow, sooner....
     A knock at the door. This late at night, who could it be? I donned a
robe and answered the door. "This better be good!" I said before I looked
at my visitor.
     Stan, of course. "Hi, Jim."
     "Hi, Stan. Come on in."
     Stan did, bashful as always. He sat on the couch with his hands not
knowing what to do with themselves. I looked at them. So that is what Sir
Lottaheart and Prince Goodasgold look without any clothes on!
     "Jim, I came by to apologize for what I did last night. I didn't have
any right to...to...."
     "To give me the best sex I'd had in years?" I concluded for him.
     "Jim?"
     "Who else can say they've had a knight and a prince in their bed at
the same time, sharing their favors with him?"
     "But Jim, the "Golden Realm" characters...."
     "Are as real as you and me." I again finished for him, this time
cutting him off. "Stan, you've created these guys. So, that means they're
not real?"
     "They're figments of my imagination."
     "They're living, talking, laughing, loving creations of your art." I
said. "Don't sell yourself short here."
     "I wasn't." Stan smiled. "Without them, I never would have had the
courage to do anything."
     "But with them, you did." I said.
     "Yeah." Stan seemed to get a lot more confident, or maybe more
relaxed, with him, it was one and the same. "Jim, I know it's kind of early
to say this, but could maybe you and I...uh...well...."
     "Go back to the Golden Realms' again for more fun and games?" I
said. "I'd love to."
     "Actually, I was kind of hoping you'd agree to sort of live there."
Stan said. "With me, I mean, all the time."
     "Let's take this trip a little at a time." I agreed. "But so far, I'm
enjoying the journey."
     "Me, too." Stan said and stood up. "Well, I'd better let you get some
sleep now. We start shooting again day after tomorrow bright and early."
     "I know." I said.
     "People are going to keep laughing." Stan warned me. "When we go back
to work."
     "Let them laugh." I shrugged. "As long as you and I know what's really
going on."
     Stan got embarrassed. "You know, I couldn't have said a word to you
without the help of Sir Lottaheart and Prince Goodasgold to say it for me."
he admitted. "It's like they can say and do things I can't do, never could
do. It's like, when they're talking, I'm not even there. It's like I'm
tucked away, in the back of my own mind, and they have control of the front
of it, doing everything instead of me. I may need them for some time if I'm
going to...you know."
     "I know." I said. "But don't worry, Stan. Behind the puppets lie the
puppet master. And that's what's important."

				  THE END
		   Comments, complaints or suggestions?
		  E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM