by Rose St. Andrews
Molly Ringer was definitely tiny, nowhere near five-feet tall, but she was no weakling. At twenty-three, she was one of the best seamstresses around, and she had just gotten a truly plum job as assistant to Ryan Stone, a brilliant and renowned puppeteer. She'd been enjoying his shows for years and knew that an internship with him could be her big break. It could lead to a major job with Disney, Universal, or any of the other big studios.
There was also the matter of his secret. He had all manner of puppets, some were even life-sized, which explained why he was so strong. His arms looked beefy enough to lift her over his head with ease - and with one arm at that. The big thing was this: no one knew how his largest and most intricate puppets worked! They were so articulate and expressive, and always amazed audiences. For years, people had tried to learn how Ryan Stone made them.
They always failed. Now it was Molly's turn. If she could learn that secret, screw getting a job as a seamstress; she'd sell that knowledge for a fortune. So, she planned to keep her eyes and ears open and look for any chance to get into his private workshop.
After four months, she was still kept away from it. Yet she kept her cool and didn't press the issue. She merely turned on the charm and sex appeal. Meaning she wore snug little bike shorts and tight t-shirts with plunging necklines. One day, she brought Ryan his favorite lunch - a nice Italian sub - and they sat down at his main workbench to eat.
"So, Ryan, I was looking at the calendar, and I see where you have a show tonight. Do you need help operating the puppets?"
"That's good of you, Molly, but it's okay. I've got a full team lined up already. Oh, by the way, I love the costumes you've made for Katherine and Petruchio. Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous."
"It would be a lot easier if you'd let me work on them as they hang on their cords," she said, bending over ever so slightly so as to show off her 'upper assets'. Turning away from him, she bent lower, thus giving him a nice look at her lower mounds, and then turned to resume her seat, napkin in hand. "I always seem to drop these, silly me."
Ryan rose to his feet and wiped his mouth. "Ah, yeah. Anyway, all in good time, my dear, all in good time. Thank you for lunch, but now I need to get back to work."
He turned and marched over to the door of his workshop. Pressing his thumb onto the scanner, it hummed, clicked, and the door swung open. Ryan darted inside, pulling the door after him quickly.
Molly ground her teeth. Shit, he's still keeping me at bay!
She tried to get her mind off of her frustration by working. She failed. The thought of what was going on a scant few feet away drove her crazy.
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.