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Dance, my little pretty, dance. As I pull the strings she rises off the floor. Gracefully I dance her across the stage. How pretty she looks dressed in black. Short high heel boots, black stockings, lacy dress and even a black bow. I make her twirl around and around and take a bow.

It had taken a lot of work to get her to this level. Firstly I had to find a suitable puppet. I had tried quite a few but found them unsuitable. One was too heavy, another too tall and a few more just did not look right. Not sure what it was, I couldn’t put my finger on it, it was just a feeling.

This one though was perfect. She was five foot one and very slim. Nice firm body with no flaws, even her auburn hair was the right length. Without any hesitation I had thrust her into the back of my van. This one was going to be my puppet.

Back at my workshop I started the slow process of transforming her. I had used the rejected one to learn on, so this time I was confident of success. Firstly the shoulder joints had to be dislocated, this way it would give free and easy movement.

The elbows followed. I did not enjoy listening to the screams. All the time I kept assuring her that in the end it would all be worth it, that the pain would go away.

The hips and knees were next and even the ankles. I did not do them all at once, I left days in between each dislocation to give her time to recover. I take no joy in causing pain and suffering for I am no monster.

When all the joints moved freely to my will without causing agony I knew it was time for the next move. I had no need to restrain or lock her up for she was already like a doll, unable to move except for my will.

It was time for the strings. Every puppet needs strings for this is what makes them move. Unfortunately I had to cause her more pain for I had to drill holes to attach the strings.

She begged and pleaded with me not to do this. It seems that she does not understand my grand vision. It was at this point that I decided to also dislocate her jaw. This way I could also control her speech.

When the holes had healed around the strings she was ready. Slowly the strings lifted her off the ground. Only a grunt escaped her mouth. She looked so good standing there. I waved to her and made her wave back.

“How are you today my pet?” I asked. “What would you like to do?”

I moved her mouth for her and spoke in a high pitched voice, “dance please.”

Left, right and jump into the air, I had her dancing. A couple of times she fell down but that was my fault. It takes a while to get a puppet moving just right.

I was getting tired so I let her back down onto the floor. Seeing that this was her first dance I thought that she had done really well and told her so. I cannot understand why there are tears on her face.
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