The Hands That Lead

A hands on kind of leader…

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Sunday May 07, 2017

Antoinette stretched her body up as high as it could go as she looked in the mirror.  The man sitting in the comfortable chair had one arm extended over the one side and in it held the marionette controls of the doll that she matched motion for motion.

He spun it around and she twirled as well, he dropped it to the floor and her body collapsed as well, he danced it one way then the other and she mimicked it move for move.

She’d asked for this of course, well sort of at least.  She’d been just another ballerina at school, a nameless, faceless dancer in the crowded room filled with them.  She had wanted to be a prima, the star, the center of attention and she’d been desperate to do whatever it took to get it.

She had sough him out, or looking back now, maybe he’d guided her to him, either way, in the end she’d approached the master instructor privately and come on strong.

He’d brushed her off the first time.  And the second.  And many more times until she had finally managed to convince him she would not stop until he listened to her.

He’d agreed to do so and when she’d finished, he’d told her to go away.  The dreams, wants and desires or a child did not matter to him, he was far to busy for such foolishness.

But that had not stopped her, it had only made her more determined.  She’d waited until she could find some way to convince him and when she’d found out about his affair, she knew she had what she’d needed.

She’d confronted him with the evidence, threatened to go to his wife and in the end he’d relented.  He’d take her under his wing, training her, mould her, make her what she wanted to be.  All she had to do was do exactly as he said.

She’d agreed immediately and that very day he’d started training her.  Weeks turned in to months until finally he told her the truth.  She wasn’t good enough, was never going to be good enough.  The others had all surpassed her even with the extra time and effort she was putting in.

She exploded at him, screamed and threatened him but there was no response, he had done all he could.  Then just as she was about to leave, he held out a box, a shoe box.

“These should not be put on.  They are dark, terrible things.  But, if you are still determined, they can help you achieve what you want.”

She’d pulled them from his hands and inspected them, they looked like normal ballet shoes, but as her fingers brushed against them a tingle went up her arm.

“What do you mean ‘dark, terrible things’?”

“They will let me teach your body to move the way it should.  But you will have no control while you wear them.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, let’s do this.”

She pulled them out of the box and swapped them for her normal shoes.  They felt amazing on her feet, they sent shivers up her legs and when she stood in them, it was like walking on feathers.

“So now what?” she asked.

He smiled and walked over to another box and pulled out the marionette, then with a skilled hand brought it to attention.  Her body did the same.

He “walked” the doll and her over to the mirrored wall of his private studio and then he sat down and started to puppet her around.  Her body moved in ways she had never been able to achieve before, she watched herself gracefully perform routines that would have put the best ballerinas to shame.

And she knew, deep down, her body had really learned the routines.  She would be able to perform them any time, with or without the shoes.

“So, I have taught you want you wanted to know?”

“Yes! Thank you!” she replied, a broad smile on her face.

“Good, our deal is now done.  Now this way.” he said and jerked the marionette to the side and she followed along, he walked around the room to the furthest corner and stopped her in front of a tall vertical pole.

He sat down in another chair and smiled, “Now, dance.” he commanded and moved the doll, her body moved with it to the poll and took a hold of it.  Soon she was spinning around the pole, her body gyrating and grinding against it in a lewd display.  It only got worst when he worked the clothing off of the doll and she stripped herself naked as well.

She thought it had become as bad as it could when she was hanging upside down from the poll, spinning her body around it as she slide down to the ground, but she was wrong.  Once he was satisfied she had learned all there was to learn about pole dancing, he started teaching her about lap dancing.

Finally, he placed her on his lap and smiled, “A good lesson, yes?”

“No! Why did you… do that?”

“I have seen many girls like you.  Eager to get ahead by any means necessary.  No regard to the lives you leave in your wake, I do not wish to be part of the wreckage you leave behind.”

“But… we had a deal.”

“Yes we did.  And I have taught you how to be the best ballerina in the world, but you shall never get a chance to use it.”

“But that wasn’t the deal!”

“Ah yes, I know, you wished to be the prima, the star, the center of attention correct?”

“Yes!”

“And so you shall.” he replied and carefully picked up the marionette in one hand.  He took a marker from his shirt pocket and carefully wrote on the dolls smooth head “Prima Starr.  Stripper, bimbo, slut.”

She watched the words fade from the dolls head and a sudden dizziness come over her as she fell against his chest and lost consciousness.

* * *

Prima woke up and looked around, “Like, what happened?”

“Are you ok?” the older man asked and extended his hand.

“Uhmmm… I think so.”

“Good, you took a nasty fall there, I’m glad your all right.”

“*giggle* Like, I did?”

“Yea, I’d suggest sticking to the pole instead of trying those fancy moves without one.”

“That’s like, totally a cool idea!  Thanks.”

“Anyway, I’m sorry we don’t have any spots at the school open, but I don’t think it would be a good fit anyway.”

“I like totally understand.  Sometimes I get these funny idea’s pop in to my head and like just do stupid stuff!”

“No problem, well I assume you can find your own way out?”

“Totally!  Like thanks!”

Prima straitened herself out, smoothing out her short skirt and tight top that matched her towering heels before heading out of the school.

‘Like, whatever was I thinking?  I’m totally not cut out to be in a rad place like this!  And oh my gawd, how would I ever get enough cock in a stuffy place like this!  Back to the strip club for you Prima, right where you belong!’

Prima smiled and giggled as she walked out of the school and down the street, after all, where else could a bimbo like her be the center of attention *and* a slut at the same time other than the strip club?

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