The puppetboys were still captive of their own two-man command performance. The overhead recording's next track returned the boys to their Vaudevillian style disjointed puppet dance, complete with poorly-timed lip sync.

"Watch our tiny tootsies fly!

Step so neat and jump so high!

Kick each other in the eye!

The dancing marionettes."

The two boys found themselves crossing their arms over their chests, leaning in shoulder-to-shoulder, and began to speak loudly, as during a play. Each completely unaware of what he was going to say, each unable to stop the words from coming out.

Andrew called out to his puppet buddy as if he were a block away. "Hey, Nathan!"

"Yeah, Andrew?"

"I sure am glad we like boys instead of girls! Girls are dumb!"

"Yeah, Andrew! Y'know, I once knew a girl who was SO dumb, she thought a football coach had FOUR WHEELS!"

The two living puppets burst into hysterical laughter at their funny, mitted hands slapping wooden thighs, carved arms clutching polished sides. Then, as the laughter began to die down, Andrew perked up. "So, how many wheels DOES it have??"

And at that, they were dancing again. This time, there was a specific direction in mind, they both felt it. Andrew and Nathan formed a two-man single file, Nathan in the lead, feet high-stepping like a classic buddy number.

"We'll have a puppet box, big enough for two!

Big enough for two, my buddy--just me and you!

Our strings will guide us, direction they will lend!

Puppet buddy front pulled right up to the end!"

And just like that, Nathan's shoulder strings went slack, and he bent over at the waist like a novelty drinking bird. Andrew was lifted off his feet, a mere inch or so but enough to quickly glide him over to Nathan's posterior. There was a quiet sound of dual wood panels sliding back, as in a roll top desk. Both boys knew what was happening, and what was about to.

"No...", Nathan whispered. It was all Andrew could do to fight his forward progress with every fiber of his being. It wasn't enough, not nearly. A large panel in the backside of Nathan's puppet suit was now open, exposing his virgin ass. The crotch panel in the front of Andrew's suit had also slid open, exposing his penis which, much to Andrew's mounting horror, was painfully erect despite his fear and trepidation.

His member and Nathan's rear glistened under the harsh stage lighting. As their panels had opened, small chambers had released generous amounts of lube. Without even remembering having done so, when Andrew constructed their suits he had thought of everything. Andrew began to speak. "Nathan, I can't stop myself, I'm so sorry--" But his words were cut off as the overhead soundtrack switched to a playfully upbeat love ballad.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Andrew slid inside his best friend. Nathan groaned in pain as he was violated, and once firmly in place, Andrew's strings made him rock back and forth, pumping and pumping repeatedly as the music played on.

Andrew had no idea how long he'd be a prisoner of this deranged sexual puppet dance, but he knew he could only hold out for so long against his increasing arousal. He had reached his limit. The motion, the heat from wearing the wooden suit, the lube, and the indescribable feeling of being forced inside his friend had taken their toll. Andrew fired an incredible load into Nathan as he reached orgasm. Now his body pumped and pulsated in response to something more than the flying rig strings as climax wracked Andrew's body. He felt incredible and terrible, all at the same time.

As if on cue, the strings pulled Andrew out of Nathan's behind, and Nathan's own strings yanked him forward and upward to stand tall again. He was spun around to face Andrew. As tears welled up in Andrew's eyes, he began to apologize again, but was stopped by the look of brainless joy on Nathan's face. His eyes were wide, his grin plastered across his face, his head titled slightly to one side. The only indication that there was a real boy inside the wooden puppet costume was the dim light deep within Nathan's eyes crying for help.

Smiling, appearing gleeful, Nathan's mouth began to move again as the overhead played a solo verse he had prerecorded.

"We'll have a puppet box, big enough for two!

Big enough for two, my buddy--just me and you!

When we're together, how happy we'll be!

Taking turns upon our knees! "

At that, Nathan's shoulder strings went slack again, this time in unison with his leg strings, and he went down to his knees before Andrew. Arms dangling limply at his sides, held aloft by his elbow strings, Nathan's mouth opened wide and he was slid forward to accept Andrew's member.

Andrew tried to shake his head, to beg his friend to understand that he had no control, but instead his puppet mouth split into a broad smile and his eyes shone with delight. When Nathan's lips made contact with the head of Andrew's penis, he was brought quickly back to erection, and the strings slid Andrew deep into Nathan's mouth. Once again, Andrew was made to rock back and forth, in and out, as Nathan drew upon his best friend as they had programmed themselves to. The lube having been cleared away during their prior exchange, Nathan drew deeply of Andrew's sweat, the thin spill of his precum, and then considerably more as Andrew was again brought to climax.

His blank, staring eyes bright and shining, Nathan swallowed it all without hesitation.

Alan tossed the tapes aside and dashed for the door. Tearing into the hallway, he nearly bowled over another student. "Dude! Watch where you're goin', man!"

"Sorry", Alan mumbled as he began to run again. "Lookin' for somebody."

"Well, you're going the wrong way I think", the student said.

Alan turned around to take another look at the shaggy sophomore in the hideous floral shirt and the pants that could have either been boardshorts or simply too small for him. "How do you know which way I should be going?"

"Well, you just lit out of Tather & Woden's dorm like your ass was on fire. What, you afraid you're gonna miss all the fun or somethin'?"

Alan was now right up in the kid's face. "What fun? Where are they?"

"Geez, dude, chill! I just figured, since you came for their room that you were one of those theater geeks. They actually volunteered to spend the break cleaning the whole theater; backstage, auditorium an' stuff."

Alan had just been saved who knows how much searching. "Are they there now?"

"I guess. They've been gone for like and hour, hour an' a half, about that."

Alan whirled around, tearing towards the stairs at high speed, but stopped short on the landing, realizing he'd just been told that was the wrong direction. He spun back to the slacker, eyes a bit wild. "Where--?" The student pointed one finger down the far end of the hall to the West exit. He was barely able to sidestep Alan as he sped down the hall, the stairwell, and out the side door.

The kid shook his head, lowering the shades held from his loose tangle of hair down over his eyes. "Theater geeks."

Andrew and Nathan were caught up in a high-stepping dance the likes of a Broadway musical. Cheerful music blared from the speakers to match their broad smiles. Their legs kicked up high as their arms swung pendulum-like at their sides, both boys moving together in perfect unison. Their kicks ended as the reached the far side of the stage, whereupon the final dance step served as a kind of launch, and their strings lifted them high over the floorboards. Nearly shoulder-to-shoulder, their elbows hooked one around the other, the boys spun gracefully, facing in opposite directions.

Their spin arced wide around the stage, then lowered them both gently to the ground. Nathan came to a halt upon his wooden feet, but Andrew swept once more around his friend to settle upon his knees before him. The music continued to ring out as the panel over Nathan's crotch slid open and Andrew's shoulder strings lurched him forward to take his friend's member in his mouth. Andrew's eyes were wide with shock as he was forced to take Nathan deep down his throat.

In time to the music, Nathan was made to pump his hips, and Andrew's head was jerked just enough to draw upon Nate's penis, back and forth, back and forth. Andrew wanted for all the world to keep his mouth open in some effort to resist the action his puppet body was being forced to take. But something within his subconscious was compelling him to close his lips upon Nathan's dick, to keep back his teeth, to use his tongue to lick and massage. It was impossible to resist.

Nathan gasped with pleasure, intoxicated by the feeling of being blown, something he'd fantasized about but had never before experienced. At the same time he felt terrible that his best friend was supplying this service under some hypnotic coercion. Nate was only dimly aware when the strings on his arms pulled his wooden hands over to hold Andrew's head in place. At the same time, Andrew's hands, which had been dangling limply at his sides, jerked about here and there at random, now curled around Nathan's legs and held on as the sucking, the pumping, increased in intensity.

The festive show tune music built to a crescendo as Nathan's body did as well. He knew as the feelings within him swelled that he was programmed to fire at a certain point in the music. In another few moments, the music hit its finale and Nathan could not contain himself any longer.

"Oh, Andrew", he whimpered, "I'm so sorry..."

And Nathan shot an incredible orgasm into his friend's mouth and down his throat. Andrew's own body spasmed as he received the onrush of semen, swallowing the load as best he could to prevent gagging on it. His hypnotic commands were still well in place as he licked and sucked on Nathan until his friend ran dry.

Short of breath and humiliated, Andrew was pulled off of Nathan and brought to his feet. Both puppetboys felt their arms spread out wide as a recorded trumpet blared two notes as if to say "Ta-Daa!" Then their high-step music began again, this time with their legs taking wide steps to the left and to the right. Nathan and Andrew were pressed close together, Nathan's chest flush with Andrew's back. Nathan's hands rested upon Andrew's shoulders as the twosome were made to dance around to more lively show tunes. Then, at another dramatic juncture in the score, Nathan's arms flew high up in the air, and in an exaggerated arc, swung down to tap Andrew on the back.

Reacting with clownish surprise, Andrew's arms pinwheeled, and his entire body went limp. Then his legs stiffened and he bent over at the waist, his hands scraping against the stage. Andrew heard and felt the back panel in his puppet suit slide open to expose his posterior. Nathan slid right up against him, his crotch panel opening once again. In less than another second, their lubricating gels were thoroughly coating Nathan's member and Andrew's behind, bringing them both to a renewed state of arousal.

Nathan wore a massive smile and his eyebrows wiggled as he slid inside his friend, his stiff member invading his buddy's virgin ass. Andrew's head turned to face the house, his playful expression showing eyes sprung wide and mouth open in stunned surprise. Nathan felt his tears stream as he forced out his own words through his cemented happy expression. "Andrew, forgive me. I can't stop..."

Andrew likewise pushed his own words out past his foolish-looking mask of gleeful surprise. "I know, man...I'm sorry, too."

And happy music blared and boomed as the two human marionettes continued their obscene puppet show, humping in time to the music.

Alan had been on the track team in high school, and it was readily apparent as he sped madly toward the college theater. "How long ago had I told them to piss off, that day in the library?", he asked himself. "How long had they been doing this to themselves?" Alan hopped over benches, dodged those few people lingering in the walkway who were still on campus during the break. As he came upon a cluster of friends who had pulled their cars up together, blocking the way, Alan leapt deftly over one car hood, and landed running. He didn't even hear the applause of the mildly-inebriated students who marveled at his agility in bounding over their vehicles. He was too busy with his own thoughts and concerns. Not the least of which was, "Whatever the two boys had done to themselves with their mind control experiment, was it too far along to undo?"

Nathan continued to thrust into Andrew. His arms were splayed wide at his sides, his hands dangling limp at the wrists as the strings controlling him caused his body to buck and pump his member into his best friend. It felt so good, so intoxicating, and yet was so horrifying all at the same time. Andrew, slumped over and bent at the waist, accepted Nathan inside him time and again. Andrews arms hung like dead weight from his shoulders, his hands dragging ineffectually upon the floor. His eyes welled with tears as he felt both revulsion and joy at being made love to by his truest friend. This was everything he had dreamed of, and yet the fantasy had been perverted into something twisted. Thoughts collided within Andrew as he simultaneously prayed for Nathan's passionate assault to be over all the while feeling waves of physical ecstasy at the sensations.

From behind him, he heard Nathan gasp as he reached climax, then sob. Nathan fired copious geysers of semen within his friend and wept as he did so. Andrew felt his insides burn with new warmth as his friend's seed surged into him. "A-andrew", Nathan sobbed. "I am so sorry. I love you, man. I swear to God I still love you. I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear it!"

Before Andrew could respond, Nathan was jerked back and away from his position, withdrawing from his friend's posterior. Andrew was yanked up to his full height and whirled around to face Nathan. Andrew could feel the back panel on his posterior slide shut easily now that Nathan had disengaged. He looked at Nathan's face and saw there a reflection of his own. He was painted and disguised as a living puppet, but his all-too human eyes welled with tears and moist streaks ran down his cheeks, making Andrew think the absurd thought that it looked as if Nathan's tears would damage the woodwork of his face.

Nathan swallowed hard, suspended on his strings, and felt himself being swept smoothly over to his friend. Andrew was also carried over to his best friend, both their arms stuck out at their sides, their elbows hiked high with forearms hanging limp. Nathan blinked away fresh tears and mouthed again and again, "I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

Andrew felt his own tears flow from his eyes and streak down his marionette face. "I know", Andrew said, softly. "I love you too."

With that, the puppet duo felt their shoulder strings haul them up high above the stage as their arms were made to wrap around each other, and they felt an overpowering compulsion to kiss. They did, long and passionately, momentarily escaping the horror of their predicament with shared comfort.

When they broke from their kiss, they found themselves turned to face the auditorium, still hanging high above the stage. The sound system crackled to life again and the opening chords of N'Sync's "No Strings Attached" began to pulse from the speakers. Dramatically, the boys were lowered to the stage as the strings began to manipulate them and guide them through a mock boyband choreography. In any other situation, Andrew and Nathan would have been in their glory doing this. Unfortunately for them, this was not any other situation.

Alan reached the theater in record time, bounding up the front steps, prepared to burst through the front doors. They were locked. Locked and chained. "Dammitt!!", Alan snarled.

He leapt over the railing at the top of the steps and landed lightly before a side entrance which led to the orchestra pit. Also locked. He jerked on the handles again just to make sure the door wasn't merely stuck. It wasn't. Alan kicked the door in frustration, furious to be held back now that he was so close.

He catapulted himself out of the lower stairwell and sprinted around the corner to a side entrance leading to the main backstage area. Locked. Alan swore, but wasted no time in double-checking the door. He ran in search of another. He would meet seven more dead ends by way of locked doors before he's find his way inside.

Andrew and Nathan did not think they could feel more tired until they began the boyband routine. The moves called for the strings to jerk them about with enormous energy and rapidity, making them feel more like rag dolls than puppets. They were bounced up and down and then back and forth, bopping and hip-hopping as teen idol voices egged them on from above.

At a rare instrumental interlude, Andrew's strings swept him to one side and up into the air as Nathan's made him slide dramatically down onto his back upon the stage. Andrew was then flown superhero style above his friend, to then settle down upon him.

As Andrew descended, Nathan's knee-strings brought his legs up. Nathan mouthed a silent protest. "Oh no..." As he feared, his rear panel slid open and so did Andrew's crotch panel. The arousing lubricants did their work and Andrew was instantly erect and made to slide into Nathan.

Andrew slipped into place, Nathan's hole now softened to accept him, and Nathan's legs were lowered to settle upon his friend's shoulders. The lyrics began again in force, seeming to inspire the strings to make their puppets pump and grind along to the merciless beat. Andrew plowed into his boyfriend as high-pitched teen heartthrobs wailed about knowing they'd been hurt in the past, but as compensation they offered their hearts with no strings attached.

Andrew and Nathan should be so lucky.

Alan had just left door six and was on the verge of giving up. He trotted with a bit less determination to another door, his mind already formulating ways to track down someone with keys, with access to the theater, as well as some excuse as to why he'd need to get inside.

But he needn't have bothered. The seventh door, the one used by janitorial staff (and work study interns) opened when he pulled it. Reinvigorated, Alan ran with renewed speed inside, skidding to a stop as he found himself plunged into darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light.

He heard the music blaring and could tell even from where he was backstage, that the colorful reflections spilling out upon the distant walls came from stage lighting. Given what he knew and had surmised about the boys, Alan was certain what was going on was no production dress rehearsal.

"Shit." Alan did not know his way around a theater by any means, but he knew he had to figure it out, fast. He ran toward the flashes of colored lights and found himself amongst a series of ropes, cables, wires and pulleys. Massive weights and gears worked like oversized clock tower parts as he stared at them with amazement. A panel of various switches and tiny colored lights hummed beneath some of the more archaic-looking switches held within a rusty control box. From below the box extended a variety of fiber optic cables that could have been used for a computer setup. Alan knew as little of computers and electronics as he did about theaters.

But he did know enough to follow the cords and see where they led. Alan jumped out of the way just as one of the massive weights dropped suddenly and swung on a trolley to lock into place with an impressive clang just as another rose upward on its line. That alone was enough to convince Alan not to simply start flicking switches or pulling plugs. He touched his fingers to the newer wires and followed them as quickly as he could.

His search brought him to a dimly-lit hallway decorated with a slew of theater posters, commemorating season after season of stage productions presented at this theater. He paused only momentarily when he realized that all of them but one had been arranged in a massive circular formation. In the center of that circle, framed by the other playbills, was a poster for a bygone production of Peter Pan. Alan frowned, then continued his run, tracing the wires secured to the wall. He followed them to the end of the hallway, around a corner, and through a metal door.

Right to the bottom of a spiral staircase.

Nathan and Andrew's lovemaking had been ended, but the song lyrics, burned as an extended mix, still blared from the speakers. The puppetboys Andrew and Nathan rose up via their strings once again to fly further into their boyband-styled choreography. Each of them knew, without a doubt, that they were total puppets. Their limbs ached from exertion and their muscles felt limp from ongoing strain. Underneath their puppet bodies, their actual bodies were slick with sweat, making them feel stuck to, as well as stuck in, their wooden marionette shells. Their strings pulled and tugged at them, flailing them about in preprogrammed steps, and the boys were utterly helpless to prevent it. They no longer even had sufficient strength to even think to resist, much less attempt it. As their strings pulled, so they went, both young men surrendering at last to their situation, their circumstance, their fate.

At precisely that moment, Andrew Tather and Nathan Woden truly became puppets.

Just that quick, the music stopped abruptly. The stage lighting dimmed and the house lights harshly flared to life. Andrew and Nathan's limbs stiffened as their strings jerked them to an awkward halt, ending their dance. The two puppetboys hung there suspended for a few seconds, and then their strings went slack, and the duo tumbled with a hollow wooden clatter to the floorboards.

Andrew and Nathan lay on the stage, utterly exhausted. Their strings had gone slack, and still lobbed about here and there as their lengths gathered upon the floorboards. The boys were spent, worn, and frightened. Andrew lay on his back, staring up into the harsh light. Nathan was face-down, laying on his chest, flecks of stage dust moving as he gasped for breath.

"N-nathan--?", Andrew wheezed. "A-are you okay, man?" Nathan just continued taking his breaths in ragged gasps. "Nathan! Answer me! I can't move, man! The suit feels so damn heavy--I'm so tired." Nathan began to cry again, tears flowing silently from his eyes to drop to the stage beside his cheeks. "Nathan, answer me, please! Oh God, don't be hurt. Say something!"

Softly, Andrew could hear his best friend sobbing. "I am a puppet. I'll be a good little puppet. I swear it, just please, let me up. I am a good little puppet...I am..."

Hearing his friend speak, Andrew felt a rush of relief flood through him. Then, realizing they were both still trapped as puppets upon the stage, he allowed himself to weep. He knew they were both responsible for this state of affairs, even though he could not remember how. This was all their own fault. Or possibly just his. "I am so sorry, Nathan", he sobbed. "God, man, I swear I am so sorry. We're puppets now. We're just a couple of puppets. That's all we'll ever be..."

The boys heard footsteps coming up the stairs at the side of the stage. They continued across the stage toward them. Both boys were too exhausted to lift their heads and see who it was. They silently prayed it was a rescue, although on a deeper level they wondered if it was their puppeteer, and hoped they would have their strings pulled again.

"You guys need any more examples of why I didn't want to teach you about mind control?"

"Alan!" Andrew blinked back his tears, as his arm was still too heavy to wipe them away. "Man, are we ever glad to see you. You gotta get us out of this, please. We're trapped here."

Into the stage, Nathan spoke, "You gotta get us out of these suits. Please, Alan, they're so heavy. We can't move."

"You two were moving pretty darn well when I came in here. That was some dance number. How the hell long did it take you to program all that into the flight rig computer, anyway?"

Andrew shook his head. "I don't know. I don't remember."

"We don't remember anything", Nathan confirmed. "Just being puppets. Just waking up here, being forced to dance around, and to--to--"

"Nate, he gets it", Andrew interrupted, fearful his friend would say too much.

"What the hell were you guys thinking, anyway? Turning yourself into real-live human puppets? How they fuck did you even come up with that?"

Andrew swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Please, man, you can give us the lecture later. Just please, get us out of this. I'm begging you, man. Please. At least undo the suits."

Alan squatted down beside the boys. "Okay, I'll get you out, I promise. But first, this is the Psych major talkin' here. What the hell were you two thinking??"

"Al, just let us up", Nathan pleaded.

"Just answer my question first", Alan said forcefully. "Truth first, then freedom. Talk."

"We wanted to feel what it would be like to be controlled", Nathan said.

"Yeah? Was it fun? You into it?"

Nathan closed his eyes, more tears spilling upon the stage. "No..."

"It sucks, okay?", Andrew said, an edge in his voice more from fear than anger. "We get it now. We wanted to feel what it would be like to be puppets, to not know how we would be made to move, what we would do, or say, or anything. We just...we just wanted to know. But we don't like it! We really don't."

Alan rubbed his chin. Then asked, "So why? Why go to all this trouble? And why do it alone, just the two of you? Why not get your theater major buddies to help, in case anything went wrong?" The prostrate duo remained silent. "Well? I'm waiting."

Andrew sobbed a bit, then choked it back. "Please, Alan. Just let us up. That's all we want. Just let us out of here--"

"Okay, fess up. What ARE you guys, really?"

In unison, the boys said with conviction, "We are good little puppets. That is all we are, that is all we ever were, that is all we ever shall be." As soon as the words left their mouths, both boys broke into a full crying jag.

Alan rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. "Jesus." He let the two go for a while, hoping they would get the sorrow out of their systems. It didn't slow down much after a few minutes. "Okay, okay! Guys, calm down, I'll get you out of here. Just--just take a breath, alright?"

Andrew spat out, "You see? We're puppets now! That's all we are, just fucking stupid mindless puppets!"

"No will of our own...", Nathan moaned.

"WHY?", Andrew wept. "Why the hell did we DO this to ourselves? We're only puppets now, we're not even human, not even real boys..."

"Okay, stop it!", Alan snapped. "That's enough! Now I'm talking to Andrew and Nathan now, guys. NOT the puppetboys. You got me? And I'm asking you what you are. The truth."

"I don't know what you mean", Andrew said.

"We're your friends", Nathan said. "From high school. From before that, even."

"And we're puppets...", Andrew concluded.

"No!", Alan yelled. "You KNOW what I mean! What are you guys? What have you always been? Probably since you were little kids, I'll bet! What have you always known you were?!"

The two boys simply lay there, weeping softly.

"Come on, answer me! You have to say it if you ever want to get up off this stage!"

Andrew shook his head slowly, side-to-side. Nathan started to cry harder.

"Okay, fine", Alan said, getting up. "You wanna be puppets, be fucking puppets. See if I give a shit."

"Don't leave us like this", Andrew begged. Nathan's sobbing grew louder. "You can't just leave us--"

"Then SAY it!!"

"No...don't make us say it...please..."

"Fine! Fuck you! Can't even help yourself, you deserve to be puppets. Assholes." Alan stormed off toward the stage steps.

"WE'RE GAY!"

Andrew's voice stopped Alan. He turned around and walked back to the boys. "You wanna try that again?"

Andrew was weeping as openly as Nathan now. Softly, he repeated, "...we're gay..."

Alan looked to Nathan. "Well, Nate?"

Nathan nodded his head, the dust from the stage getting onto his face and molded hair.

"No, you have to say it. You need to say it", Alan stressed.

Between the sobs, Nathan confessed, "Wuh-wuh-we're g-gay. Andrew and me, we're gay. We love each other, I love him, he's my boyfriend. O-ohhh Goddd..." He sobbed again, unable to continue.

Tears streamed from Andrew's eyes down the sides of his head. "Fudge packers...rump rangers...just a couple of queers..."

Nathan's sobs grew in intensity. "God h-help us, we-we're bad people..."

Alan sat down beside them. "No, that's not true. You're good guys who just happen to be in love with each other, that's all. It's okay. It'll be okay. This is an important first step. Things'll get better now, I promise."

"I don't wanna be gay", Andrew cried. "I just can't help it. And Nathan...I can't help loving him, I just can't."

"It's okay, it'll all be okay", Alan assured them. "But now, think! Why become puppets? Why did you do it?"

"Can't remember", Andrew said.

"It doesn't matter! You know! Deep down inside, you know why! Just face it!"

"...already puppets...", Nathan whispered.

"What was that?", Alan asked. "Again. Say it again."

Nathan whispered a bit louder. "We were already puppets. Going through the motions pretending to be something else. Acting straight when we weren't...we never had control...like puppets..."

"So you thought you'd just make that concept a reality?", Alan surmised.

"No", Andrew said, realization coming into his eyes. "We wanted to be able to be open about it. To admit we were in love. But we couldn't. We can't."

"So in a way, you had too much control", Alan said. "Restrictive control preventing you from being yourselves."

"But not if we were puppets", Nathan said, burying his face into the stage.

"What do you mean?"

Andrew completed the thought. "If we were being controlled by something else...if some force...made us come out about who we really are...we wouldn't be responsible for it. Not if something made us do it. If we could only react to the pull of our strings."

"If we were real puppets", Nathan said.

"We could finally be real boys", Andrew said. "If we were puppets."

Alan sat in silence for a moment. Then he thought aloud, "So you had to be prisoners in order to be free. Incredible."

He looked and saw Andrew and Nathan groping for each other's hand. But they were still too tired, their puppet costumes still too heavy, and their wooden hands were just barely out of reach. Alan set his palms down upon their puppet arms. "That'll take some time, guys. Let me get you out of these things." Quietly, Alan set about releasing the duo from their puppet bodies. Both boys were so relieved to be free that neither of them wondered how it was that Alan knew exactly how their costumes worked.

Alan escorted the boys back to their dorm room. It was getting late, and the campus was virtually deserted due to the break. The boys had washed off most of their makeup and appeared relatively normal. Andrew and Nathan were dressed only in robes they'd scavenged from the theater dressing rooms. They had been naked inside their puppet suits, and neither knew where they'd stashed their clothes. Naked (but for the robes), shivering, exhausted, and still worried and frightened, they were extremely grateful for Alan's assistance in getting them back to their room.

Alan led the shaking boyfriends across the room, making an effort to push aside all debris haphazardly to better disguise that he had been there earlier. Removing their robes, Alan helped the naked boys climb up into their loft bed, where they clung together, already drifting to sleep as their heads rested against the pillows.

"Al--Alan", Andrew whispered.

"Yeah, buddy."

"K-keep our secret. We-we're not ready...for anyone to know..."

"Just rest now. We'll talk tomorrow. I know a lot about hypnosis. I can help--work on putting you guys back the way you were." Alan pulled the blankets over the top of the boys as their breathing slowed and steadied. Alan rested a hand briefly on Nathan's shoulder. "You okay?", Alan asked softly.

So very quietly, Nathan whispered in response, "...'m a puppet..."

Alan just patted him on the back and slipped out of the room, shutting off the light as he made his exit.

Once in the hallway, Alan's mind kicked into high gear. Swiftly and silently, he made his way down the dorm hallway and then dashed down the stairs at top speed, burst out the door and sprinted back to the theater. He had to be absolutely certain that what he had seen there when he discovered the boys was indeed what he thought it was.

Back in the university theater, Alan climbed the stairs to the control booth. Once inside, he looked over the equipment he had disrupted earlier when he had arrived the first time. He fumbled around in the dim light for a particular button, or switch, and after some desperate groping, he found it. Flicking the switch, Alan stepped back and watched.

The mixing board before him came to life, all bright lights and soft humming. A video screen blinked to life, a blue screen announcing that play had been interrupted and prompting Alan to press any key to continue. A timer blinked on, counting down to something--Alan was uncertain precisely what, but suspected he had a pretty good idea. The timer was paused at 00:01:56. Earlier, Alan had arrived just in the nick of time, apparently. Alan pressed a key below the blue screen, which declared it was resetting automatically.

The lights above the stage readjusted themselves and focused upon the empty, headless puppet bodies laying limp upon the stage. The wires attached to them grew taut and slowly lifted the suits up to a standing position. Alan saw the timer click back to life and continue it's countdown. Music restarted and blared the pop song from the speakers, and like magic, the puppet suits began to dance. In time to the music, the vacated puppet shells executed their choreography, bouncing awkwardly here and there, flying a bit too high, even bumping into each other once or twice. Alan assumed the discrepancies must be due to the loss of the boys' weight inside the suits.

At the end of the song, the puppet suits struck a dramatic pose that indicated they had reached their finale. The timer had reached 00:00:20 and the loudspeaker followed their pop dance routine with twenty seconds of thunderous prerecorded applause.

The timer hit zero, and the lights dimmed. The puppet bodies were slowly, gently, brought to a standing upright position and were turned to face the back of the stage. An automated screen was lowered from the above catwalk and a VCR in the booth clicked to life and began to play.

Upon the screen appeared a poorly-made video of none other than Andrew and Nathan. Both were in their full wooden puppet costumes, their faces painted as they had been when Alan found them. They appeared as happy as could be. They were moving about freely, with no flying rig wires fastened to their suits. They had no string attached. Onscreen, the cheerful marionette boys began to speak. At first, Alan thought they were greeting him, but then it became clear they were addressing themselves--as they would have been onstage had Alan not interrupted them. Their dialogue ran:

On stage at that moment, in synchronization with the video playback, there was a twanging sound and the cables on the puppet bodies rapidly grew slack. The excess length used for the manipulation of their limbs arced to the floor, gathering in wide loops. The headless puppet suits sagged and flopped around as their tethers lost tension. Finally, there were multiple snapping noises, like prop gunshots, and the cables detached from their housings above the catwalk to clatter upon the stage. Had Andrew and Nathan still been wearing the suits, the result would have been a dramatic release of the puppet prisoners. As it was, the two empty puppet shells clattered to the floor like the lifeless mannequins they were.

"Right on time", Alan remarked. Onscreen, the narration continued.

Alan let out a deep breath. "Sweet Jesus..." He realized that if he had been but two minutes later in arriving at the theater, Andrew and Nathan would not have needed him at all.

Alan stepped over to the desk in the control booth and saw that one drawer had a blazing orange sticker on it with the legend "In here!" on it. Alan pulled open the drawer and saw a series of twelve cassette tapes, neatly arranged and numbered, clearly labeled. "Back To Boyhood- 1", "Back To Boyhood- 2", and so on.

"They had it all figured out", Alan mused. "They just didn't realize how much their little memory-wiping trick would freak them out."

Alan began to pace. Theoretically, all he had to do was collect the boys from their dorm in the morning, and show them the video. He probably wouldn't even have to put them back in the suits, although the moment the cables were released at the vid's climax was a powerful image and could prove essential in helping them getting their heads back on straight. If they were willing, he'd suit them up again and let the show run it's course as it would have without his interruption.

Alan looked at the cassette tapes again. Each one ran two hours long. They may have been toying with dangerous mind games, but at least the boys were thorough. This experiment of theirs alone would make an extraordinary thesis.

And yet...

Alan thought about that sizeable report created by the legendary Seth Greenwood. Andrew and Nathan had run their experiment for weeks, months. Greenwood's study spanned years. And Andrew and Nathan at this point knew nothing of the video or the mind control reversal tapes. Alan rubbed his chin, running a finger along the top of the twelve cassettes, listening to the rattling sound they made.

He then went to the mixing board console and turned on an overhead light. With the added illumination, he could better see the controls. After a cursory glance, he found what he was looking for. He flipped on the video playback and called up a control selection display. There were his choices. PLAY. REWIND. FFWD. SAVE. and ERASE.

Alan's finger hovered over the keyboard connected to the monitor's display. 'S' for save, 'E' for erase. Alan let out a deep and heavy sigh. He thought of that bulky, phenomenally in-depth report by Greenwood and wondered how he could ever hope to equal it on his own, much less top it. If the two boys were held as puppets, the amount of research and experimentation he could do with them defied description.

Then he thought of the boys. His childhood friends. Now naked and alone, shivering in their bed with no idea of what had happened to them, their months of personal growth erased, having no concept of the strength of character and courage they'd developed as young gay men. They were prisoners of their own misconceptions. Had he the right to keep them there?

Slowly, Alan shook his head, and made his choice.

EPILOGUE-

Andrew and Nathan walked proudly down the college hallways, arm in arm. It had only been a day since classes had resumed following the break, but already the other students knew to clear the way when the two boys approached, side-by-side with arms draped affectionately around each other's shoulders. Even in some of the more crowded hallway intersections, filled with tight clusters of students, Andrew and Nathan were reluctant to break contact with one another, usually waiting patiently for the crowd to subside, or at most choosing to hold hands while they weaved their way through the crush of bodies.

Some of the guys took steps back from the duo as they approached, others took pains to avoid them by stepping down separate hallways. Most of the girls thought the open show of affection was charming. One girl even said they were "adorable". Andrew and Nathan didn't seem to care what they thought.

The two boys had a couple hours before their next class. They had just left a lecture hall, which they greatly enjoyed because the auditorium-style seats allowed one of them to put his arm around the other. In standard classrooms, they had taken to selecting desks in the back row, where they could slide their seats closer together and hold hands during the lecture without disrupting anyone else.

Now they made their way down the cramped dorm halls, having switched to holding hands for easier travel. The reached room 314, Alan's room, and knocked. "Come on in, guys. You're right on time", came their friend's voice from within.

Andrew and Nathan stepped into Alan's dorm room single, and as soon as they were inside, took up their preferred stance beside each other with their arms on each other's shoulders. The two smiled broadly at Alan as he reached for a sizeable notebook he kept beside his bed. The boys had been smiling a lot lately. In fact, whenever they were together, it was nearly impossible to find them not smiling.

"How you fellas doing today?", Alan asked.

"Real good", Andrew beamed. "Great."

"Better than great", added Nathan. "I'd say better than we've felt in a long time."

The two turned their heads to look at each other and Andrew mouthed silently, "I love you, man."

Nathan returned the silent phrase, "I love you, too." And they kissed each other, right there in front of their friend and apparently not caring one way or the other. Alan scribbled furiously in his notebook.

Then, Alan looked back up after taking a moment to inspect what he'd written, and remarked with stressed clarity. "My two favorite guys--Pinocchio Tather and Howdy Doody Woden."

The two boys broke contact with each other instantly and struck pantomime marionette poses. Their eyes had suddenly gone blank and appeared glazed over. Their mouths hung slightly open, their faces devoid of all expression, their minds seemingly empty.

Alan calmly sharpened his pencil. The boys stood there before him, hanging on invisible strings, knees bent inward, their arms straight out at their sides, bent at the elbow with forearms swaying ever-so-slightly back and forth.

Alan spoke to the boys, keeping his eyes on his writings. "Identify yourselves, please", he said flatly.

"We are puppets, sir.", Andrew and Nathan answered in unison, without a trace of emotion.

"Mm-hmm", Alan mumbled, still writing. "And I am--?"

"You are our puppet master, sir.", came the reply.

"Good, good. Fine." Alan wrote for a moment longer, then looked up at his subjects. He looked at them for a few seconds, brow furrowed in scrutiny, then returned to his pad. Speaking into his pages, he asked, "And do puppets wear clothing like that which you have on?"

Again, in unison, the boys replied, "No sir, master, they do not."

"You might want to do something about that, then, gentlemen." Alan continued to make notes while the two puppetboys stripped off their outer clothing. Beneath their street clothes were lightweight plastic puppet forms encasing their bodies. These were very much like their previous puppet suits, but were far slimmer, less exaggerated and much more form fitting. Except for the neck, heads, and hands, the marionette casts covered their entire bodies, and were easily concealed beneath their baggy sweatshirts and loose-fitting trousers. With their heavy shoes cast aside, trim toeless puppet feet were also visible.

Alan cast a quick glance at the puppetboys, now stripped of their student disguises. "That's better", he remarked. Jerking his head toward a small case at the head of his bed, he said, "Puppets, please don your traditional puppet garb." And returned to his writing.

Andrew and Nathan plodded mechanically over to the case and withdrew two outfits appropriated from the drama department's costume wardrobe. In moments, the two boys had dressed themselves in old-fashioned European travel wear over their segmented puppet bodies. High-collared short-sleeved shirts, lederhosen, short pants, fanciful tall boots, and feathered caps completed their look as puppets. Once so attired, they stood at attention, backs slightly bent, eyes glazed and appearing lifeless.

Alan looked up from his notes and then quickly glanced at his watch. "No...", he mumbled to himself, "no time today for the puppet cheeks and jaw hinge makeup. Got a lecture inside of an hour." He scribbled a few more notes and flipped to the next page.

Tossing his notebook onto his bed, Alan brought out a video camera. Training it on the boys, he clicked it on and its little red light flared to life. "Puppetboys", Alan said, "go through your poses and tell me what you did today."

Andrew and Nathan began dancing and swaying about, their bodies jerking here and there as if they were still trussed up by the formidable suspension rigs in the theater. They looked puzzled and surprised as they jerked about, unaware which way they would be made to turn next, not realizing their every movement was dictated by their own subconscious.

They danced on stiffly, awkwardly, as puppets, pausing regularly in frozen poses for Alan to snap with his still camera in addition to his video record. The puppetboys told of their day thus far, of their new open displays of affection for one another. They spoke of holding hands, walking arm in arm, and even allowing themselves to be caught kissing each other.

Alan raised one eyebrow. "Who saw you kissing?"

The puppetboys said that it was one of the college's star athletes. His reaction had been one of disgust when he rounded a corner and caught them, but even then he lingered there a moment watching in fascination before moving quickly away.

"Interesting, interesting", Alan remarked, advancing the film and then reaching for his notebook to jot down a few more thoughts. After making his notations, he allowed the boys to halt their puppet display and stand still once again. "Puppetboys", Alan said, "your bodies remain at my command, but your voices are temporarily your own. You can speak freely of your experiences."

Andrew and Nathan's bodies remained stiff and motionless, but their faces suddenly came to life. Andrew spoke first. "Dude, you can't keep doing this. You gotta let us go. Don't make us keep this up, I'm serious."

Alan scribbled again. "Uh-huh, uh-huh, and why is that?"

Nathan jumped in. "Alan, we're friends. So you know we're gay. You know we were into puppets and mind control. God, isn't that enough? You got us by the balls, Alan." Then, softer, he added, "We're begging you, let us go."

Alan never looked up from his notes. "You did admit you wanted to be puppets."

"Each other's puppets, man!!", Andrew yelled. "You are gonna get us fucking killed, man! Hangin' all over each other in front of jocks! You can't just out us outta nowhere and parade us around like a couple of overeager fags--"

Nathan began yelling simultaneously. "We don't want to be puppets anymore! We don't want to, I swear to God, Alan, just let us go--"

Alan remained stoic, scribbling faster to keep up. "Ventriloquist puppets", Alan said calmly. "You have no voices but what I give you."

Instantly, the duo fell silent. Their faces were caught in freeze-frame, Nathan's mouth closed, Andrew's still open, having been stopped in mid-sentence. Alan kept his eyes on his notebook. "You know", he said aloud to no one. "I'm debating having the two of you sing a romantic duet together during one of your theater classes. That could provide some interesting responses all around." He tapped his chin with the end of his pencil. "Of course, I'd have to skip a Humanities class to attend. Just hearing the account wouldn't be the same as witnessing it firsthand."

Alan flipped open a date book and checked off a few listings. "But", he said, "I think it would be wise to have you both come out to your parents first."

The boys still stood frozen, but their hearts began to race and a wave of helpless fear flooded their bodies. A single tear rolled down Nathan's face as he imagined the shocked response of his mother when his puppet self was forced to act out the dictates of his new master. Alan looked up just in time to see the tear upon Nathan's cheek. It took the psych major a moment to fully register the truth of what he was seeing, of what this helpless boy was experiencing. Without another moment's hesitation, Alan returned to his notes to archive Nathan's response, saying, "Fascinating. I almost missed that."

Alan set down his notebook and stood before his subjects. "Truthful puppets", he said. "You cannot lie to me. How do you feel about each other, puppets?"

"I love him", said Andrew softly, looking at the floor. "I love Nathan."

Alan looked at Nathan. Nathan choked back more tears. "I love Andrew. I love him so much."

"And what are you in relation to me?", Alan asked.

Together, the puppet lovers said, "We are only puppets. You are our puppet master and we are yours to command. We can do only as you bid us." By now, both the boys were gently weeping.

"Goooood", Alan said, checking off one last item on his agenda for the day. "Now get that whole crying thing out of your system and return your puppet uniforms to the case and get dressed. And remember that your standing orders remain. You may tell no one about me controlling you, you may never speak or your true identities as puppets. And the most important command stays intact--" Alan let his sentence trail off for the puppetboys to finish. They did.

"We now behave toward each other in public as we've privately always wished we could behave.", they intoned.

Within a few moments, the two puppetboys stood attired in their normal clothing with their arms around each other. The physical contact alone sent a shiver of pleasure through each of them, taking a little of the edge off the fact that they were now both nothing more than human marionettes. With dry eyes and smiling faces, the two exited Alan's room and returned to their life in the outside world. Forever performing, forever feeling helpless to cut their strings and move free of their puppeteer.

Alan gathered his things for his next class, idly toying with what was to come of his new role as puppet master. His two subjects, formerly his childhood friends, were going to make a fascinating study. Here he was, only a freshman, and already a spectacularly successful grad school thesis was assured. In his mind's eye, he saw the paper's conclusion, with the two boys in full puppet ensembles, painted faces and all, dancing their way joyously through the next nationally televised Pride rally parade.

He had taken his friends and made them mere playthings, but in the end it would be for a worthy cause. His study, and possibly his future career was tied to the strings of two gay puppetboys. Alan paused for a moment, considering what future "control" tests awaited the boys. He grinned, wondering if they would ever realize that all their previous hypnotic suggestions had been removed, and not a single command had been laid down in their place. The two boyfriends Nathan and Andrew had prepped themselves extensively for that one last hurrah in the form of their grand puppet stage show, with absolutely no binding commands to follow it. But it didn't matter. They had both sunk so far into their roles as puppets, and had kept their affections for each other repressed for so long, that the mere implication that they had been hypnotized was enough to make them believe it utterly. Alan was convinced that even with them prevented from viewing their final videotaped message, all either Andrew or Nathan needed to do to break their strings was to consciously choose to do so.

And so far, they didn't. Or they believed they couldn't, which in the end amounts to the same thing.

Slinging a backpack over his shoulder, Alan sauntered off to his next class, cheerfully whistling "I've Got No Strings".