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Short Story

Voodoo Me

The doll rested safely and, dare Jessica believe…contentedly…against her heart for the rest of the afternoon.

Brigit Delaney
Jun 9 · 10 min read

Her skin was like coal, dark black and ashy in places, so dry she looked as if a stiff wind would blow her away like a mound of sand in a hot desert. She spoke in a whisper as Jessica passed.

“Miss?”

She might have missed it any other day, walked by in her usual haste, but it seemed as if all other sounds had paused momentarily for this woman’s message to travel to Jessica’s ear.

“Miss…ssss…?”

Like the lulling hiss of a snake, the word hit its mark, soft and swaying; Jessica turned briefly to meet the woman’s deep, black eyes.

“Excuse me? Did you say something to me?” Jessica walked a few steps toward the woman, who was sitting on the steps of a large, crumbling brownstone. Two cats sat beside her, a gray and a black — and a mongrel of indiscernible breed lay at her feet, baring its left canine in uncommitted warning. She was a large woman, buried in several layers of multi-colored skirts and sweaters. And her hair, wiry, mottled black and white, stuck out from underneath a lavender knitted beret in reaching spreads like shadowed coral.

“Would you like to buy a doll? I make it specially for you.” She pulled a small cloth doll from a plastic grocery sack that appeared to hold several more like it in varying shades of tan, brown, black, and white. The one she held out to Jessica was white with a bright head of orange yarn wound into tight curls. The doll had no clothes, but it did have freckles, a tiny dot nose, and two painted-on blue eyes.

“You can pick a dress for her if you like? Just two dollars more.”

Jessica didn’t know why she stopped…why she was drawn to this woman’s childish, hand-made wares. But, she walked closer, and found herself asking about dress colors.

“Do you have red? It’s my favorite color.”

“No red. But, green…and green is better for your complexion anyhow, miss.”

“How much for the doll?”

“Ten.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll buy the doll.”

“And the dress?”

“Yes…the dress, too.”

The woman held out the doll and the dress as Jessica dug in her bag for the money to pay her. When she looked up and reached forward with her payment, the woman took her hand, with the money, between both of hers and held them.

“Miss? Be sure to to be careful with her. She’s a sensitive girl, but she’ll do right by you, if you take care of her.”

The woman smiled, several teeth missing, and looked deep into Jessica’s eyes, holding them hostage for several seconds.

Jessica took the doll and put it in her bag. She thanked the woman and turned back toward the busy sidewalk, finding her place among the hundreds of other people walking to work that morning.

It wasn’t until lunch time that Jessica remembered the doll. She pulled it out of her bag and took a long look at it. It was a simple doll. Maybe ten inches long, hand-stitched from two pieces of fabric. Something a child could make. The face was painted on and the hair nothing but glued-on bits of yarn. But, its likeness was disarming. Jessica put the dress on the doll and held it in her hands, looking at it.

It made her a little uncomfortable, but she set it next to her computer and began typing an email to her team.

About an hour later, immersed in various paperwork, Jessica realized she was overheating a bit. She grabbed an empty file folder, sat back in her chair, and began to fan herself with it. The doll caught her eye. She reached for it, and realized it had become warm between her monitor and computer tower.

She set it up against the window, and went back to work.

Within in half an hour, she found herself feeling rather cool, and reached into her bag for a sweater. As she buttoned it, the doll once again caught her eye. Behind it, out the window, she could see the first snowflakes beginning to fall. She reached for the doll. It was cold.

Suddenly, Jessica’s eyes widened with understanding.

She squeezed the doll, and within seconds, she felt pressure in her mid-section…her stomach ached.

She tickled the doll’s feet. In an instant, her toes began to curl and the soles of her feet began to itch. She held back a giggle.

She kissed the doll’s cheek, and a subtle warmth spread across her own.

Jessica looked around her, turned in her chair and glanced over her shoulder as if the whole world were watching. But, no one noticed.

The woman’s words echoed in her ear…”Miss? Be sure to to be careful with her. She’s a sensitive girl, but she’ll do right by you, if you take care of her.”

Jessica put the doll carefully in her bag and looked back at her computer screen. It was truly impossible for her to focus on her work. She glanced out the window to her right and lost herself briefly in the soft white flakes falling, coating the sidewalks and streets below. The snow made everything quiet, like a blanket shutting out the din of the world beyond. It made things seem smaller, as if life existed in a globe that someone could pick up and shake and stare at, losing themselves in contemplation of the falling flakes.

Her thoughts kept folding in on themselves, and she couldn’t keep work central…not with that doll lying the darkness of her bag. She could feel the press of its need to be held.

She pulled it back out of her bag and stuck it down the front of her v-neck sweater, situating it between her breasts, against her heart. Instantly, she felt softer, less lonely, more content.

I need a cup of tea to clear my head, Jessica thought, so she pushed her rolling chair away from her desk and walked down the hallway toward the break room. Thankfully, the doll was small, and her sweater was rather bulky, so it was easy enough to hide the lump between her breasts and not draw attention from her co-workers. She poured herself some hot water from the water tower and headed back to her desk. Rummaging in her bag, she found an earl grey tea bag, ripped the top from its package and pulled the bag by its tag from the remaining paper shell. She dipped the bag into the hot water a few times before she let it sit to steep. The doll rested safely and, dare Jessica believe…contentedly…against her heart for the rest of the afternoon. A sense of well-being remained with her as she continued her work.

At 5 o’clock, Jessica switched her computer off, tidied her desk, donned her coat, hat, gloves, and scarf, and swung her bag over her right shoulder. She bid several of her co-workers good night as she made her way down the hall toward the elevator.

She walked down the snowy sidewalk, rode the subway to her stop, and continued her journey home, as the snow continued to fall, keeping the world close and small. Jessica felt as if she were a fish in a bowl being watched. It was an odd feeling, but not a scary one. She dismissed it as she headed up the stairs to her door, dug for her keys in her pocket, and let herself in. Her cat, Sabrina, was a solid black, short-haired female with a penchant for loud greetings and she met Jessica at the door with an inquisitive yowl.

Jessica placed her bag on the floor, removed her boots, and scratched the kitty between her ears and under her chin. She put her coat on the rack and her gloves, scarf, and hat on the shelf beside it. She glanced in the mirror to straighten her hair and take stock of her appearance. She could barely see the lump the doll made under her sweater. Reaching in, she removed it and walked out to the living room where her husband, John, was sitting, sock feet on the coffee table, face drawn into a scowl as he watched the evening news.

“Looks like the snow is going to continue all week. Likely it’ll shut things down all over town tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Jessica responded, absently. She fumbled with the doll in her hands.

“What’s that?” John asked.

“Ummm….it’s a doll…I bought it this morning. It was the strangest thing. There was a woman on the side of the street, and for some reason I just felt drawn to her. She was selling these dolls. I don’t know why I bought one. It seems silly. I just felt that I had to. And John…the oddest feelings have been coming over me since I bought it. It’s as if I can feel what the doll does. When I put it by the window, I felt cold. When I put it by the computer, I felt warm. When I put it in my bag, I felt lonely. And when I finally put it (I know this is weird, John, but bear with me, here) in my shirt, against my heart, I felt content and safe, and able to work.”

John looked at her as if she’d just told him she were making octopus stew for dinner with lamb hearts in cream sauce for an appetizer.

“Are you completely mad, Jessica? It’s a doll, for cripes sake. Let me see it.”

Jessica paused. She hesitated to give it to him, but she handed it over.

John took the doll in his hands. He flipped it over and sideways and looked at Jessica with a raised eyebrow and roll of the eye that noted he was sure she must have begun losing her mind.

Sighing and pursing his lips, he handed the doll back to her.

“John…I was…I was sort of wondering if we could try something…just to see if it’s me or if the doll is actually somehow…oh…I don’t know…tied to me in some way.” Jessica let her eyes drop and felt like an embarrassed child telling her father something stupid she did at school today. She felt silly, but her curiosity was stronger than her need to look sane right now.

“What might that be?” John inquired.

“Well….I thought that maybe you could touch the doll in some way…without me looking…so I’m not influenced subconsciously to feel something I don’t really feel.”

John sighed again and gave her a rather exasperated look.

“Okay, fine, crazy lady. Turn around, and I’ll touch the silly doll.”

Jessica turned to face the kitchen doorway, and John touched the doll’s hair.

“Just do something…anything…and I’ll tell you where I feel something.”

“I am. I’m touching the doll right now.”

“Just keep doing it…in the same place…until I tell you to stop.”

Slowly, like warm water pouring over already warm skin, she began to feel a soft sensation at the back of her head.

“You’re touching its head,” she said.

He moved his hand down its back.

Jessica felt a tingle down her spine. Her breath caught in her throat when it reached her lower back, as she was quite ticklish there. She twitched a bit and sat up straighter.

“Keep going,” she said, a little quieter this time, breathier.

She closed her eyes, and felt her backside clench, the backs of her thighs tighten, and suddenly, her nipples harden.

“Johnathan, I think it’s really working. You’ve traced down the backside of the doll and now you are working on the front. If can feel it, my nipples are hard.”

She turned around and looked at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wide with confusion and excitement. John looked at her in a similar fashion and told her to lay back on the couch.

“Let me try something,” he said.

He set the doll on the coffee table. He got down on his knees and reached his hands up under her wool skirt, grabbing hold of her tights and pulling them off of her. He dropped them in a pile by the couch and turned to place Jessica’s feet on the couch. Sitting back on the couch, he pushed her skirt up around her hips and gently spread her knees to expose her carefully trimmed pussy.

“Keep your hands at your sides, and close your eyes,” he directed.

Jessica did as she was told. And John picked the doll back up, lifted its dress, and placed his thumb between its legs. He pressed gently and began rubbing back and forth slowly. Jessica’s back arched, and she breathed in sharply, letting it back out with a soft moan.

“Oh, goodness, John…that is the most unearthly, pleasurable feeling.”

“How do I know you aren’t faking, though?”

“I guess you’ll just have to keep going and see where it leads us.”

So John did just that. He rubbed his thumb against the doll, and pinched the places where its breasts would be. Jessica squirmed and squealed with each new touch. He pressed a bit harder, a bit more quickly between its legs, and Jessica’s knees splayed wide. She began to buck forward and back, begging for more.

“Push harder, John! Harder!”

He did. And a fine creamy white trickle slid down the inside crease of her scarlet cunt. She was swollen with desire, her thighs blushing, her throat and cheeks pink with need. Her knees fell together as her chest rose and fell deeply.

“Well, I can’t imagine you faking that…” John said, his facial expression a mix of incredulity and awe.

Jessica looked at John, pushed her skirt back down around her thighs, sat up on the couch next to John and stared at the coffee table in stunned wonder as she basked in the strange afterglow of an orgasm caused by a distant touch.

The woman’s words echoed in her ear once again…”Miss? Be sure to to be careful with her. She’s a sensitive girl, but she’ll do right by you, if you take care of her.”

Oh my fucking hell, Jessica thought to herself. The possibilities….the possibilities…

Tantalizing Tales

Tantalizing Tales and Titbits to Stimulate the Senses

Brigit Delaney

Written by

Blogger, educator, writer, lover of dogs, yoga pants, and a fine Irish whiskey.

Tantalizing Tales

Creating fiction to arouse and awaken your imagination — 18+ literature — Curated by May More. Edited by Posy Churchgate —Contact us via talestantalizing@gmail.com or @TaleTantalizing on Twitter.

Brigit Delaney

Written by

Blogger, educator, writer, lover of dogs, yoga pants, and a fine Irish whiskey.

Tantalizing Tales

Creating fiction to arouse and awaken your imagination — 18+ literature — Curated by May More. Edited by Posy Churchgate —Contact us via talestantalizing@gmail.com or @TaleTantalizing on Twitter.

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