The Magic Dolls

(If you're an impatient reader, you can skip the story setup by jumping to Chapter 4.)

As Troy walked through the bustling market, he spotted her. His alluring siren. His blonde vixen. His destiny. Her presence seemed to fill the air with an invisible energy, causing his heart rate to quicken and his cock to stir in his pants. The closer he got, the more captivating she became. Her body was adorned in loose-fitting attire that somehow still accentuated every curve and contour.

She looked to be in her early twenties, with shoulder length blonde hair and a slender build. With each step, her generous breasts bounced gently under her top, taunting Troy with their perfection. His gaze traveled further south, taking in the curves of her hips and thighs before reaching the edge of her skirt. He swore he could almost see the bottom of her ass cheeks poking out beneath the fabric.

Without thinking, Troy followed her through the crowds, his mind consumed by thoughts of lust and desire. Troy felt himself pulled along the market like a rare earth magnet. Every time she turned a corner or ducked into a shop, he worried he'd never see her perfect body again. But just when he thought he'd lost her forever, fate intervened.

There she was again, sorting through the old vinyl records in some music stall. Troy positioned himself on the stall opposite, feigning interest in the mismatched oddities on display in order to get a better angle on her. He quickly scanned the rest of the stall, searching for anything else that might give him an excuse to approach her, but nothing caught his eye.

As Troy watched intently, she leaned forward and rifled through the whole shelf full of albums, offering him a glimpse of her cleavage. His mouth went dry at the sight of her firm breasts held back only by the seams of her top. As if in slow motion, they began to jiggle ever so slightly with her movements. As the moments passed, Troy became increasingly lost in the erotic display before him. He felt as though he was witnessing a private performance for him alone. But then, suddenly, it all came crashing down around him when the movement stopped. Confused, he brought his gaze up to look at the woman, and their eyes met. The woman's look was a mixture of irritation and pity, and it struck Troy like a cold shower. He had been caught red-handed ogling her breasts!

Troy was mortified! What did he do now?! He knew that he shouldn't have followed her into the stall, but he couldn't seem to stop thinking about her. Should he apologise, or just- shit, he'd already taken too long. He frantically grabbed the item sitting in front of him - a box of some kind - and bolted towards the checkout counter, hoping against hope that no one else had noticed his indiscretion. His cheeks burning with embarrassment, he tried his best to focus on anything but the current situation, but his mind kept coming back to the memory of those lovely breasts swaying temptingly before him. Just pretend it didn't happen, he told himself. Practically in a trance, it took him a moment to even register which stall he was standing in.

Troy had been to the market a few times in the last six months, but he had never seen a stall setup this elaborate. Labels and warning signs were placed in different sections, alerting customers to the dangers of some seemingly harmless objects, like a stopwatch or a pair of glasses. Chains held down mundane things like books, while an ink pot and quill sat on a pedestal, or a TV remote behind a glass case. It was an imposing display, but Troy supposed it was the perfect set up to sell an ordinary comb or a toy ray-gun for a vastly inflated price. Funnily, the stall also had a 'One Item Per Customer' sign, but with objects this disparate, Troy wondered whether one person would even be able to find two separate items they wanted.

Troy looked down at the hot pink packaging in his hands and internally cringed. Between everything that had happened, he hadn't even paid attention to what he was about to buy. Aside from the title, Similitudo, the vibrant box wasn't forthcoming with a lot of information. A plastic window on the front revealed its base contents - three featureless mannequin dolls, along with vague call-outs on the packaging like Recreate Your Friends and Influence Others. He looked around the box for a price tag, then back to where he thought he had taken it from, but the space was no longer there. He hoped it wasn't too expensive, it would be awkward to take it back now.

The wiry old lady manning the booth raised her eyebrow as Troy approached; a hefty bearded man purchasing some dolls in an effeminate pink box must stand out a little, even among the other oddities around the booth.

'I see another object has found its owner.' she mumbled. 'Strange, I was sure these were going to get snatched up by a young girl next week.'

Troy smiled politely, unsure how to respond. 'I, uh, couldn't find a tag for this. How much?'

'Let's see, three dolls, hmm...' With a sigh, the crone reached into a hidden pocket of her tattered dress and produced a grubby piece of paper. Unfurling it, she revealed a single line scribbled in faded black ink, and read it aloud: "$120 for three, or a vessel for a vessel."

Troy blanched at the price, 120 for three dolls? Yet there was something about the old woman's words and demeanor that made him feel compelled to pay. He quickly searched through his wallet, the Velcro tearing as he peeled it open, and sorted out his notes. He guessed he wasn't picking up the new Dragonscape DLC this month.

As he handed over the money, the crone slid a small worn booklet into a shopping bag, where she'd already bagged the dolls. 'The instruction manual,' she whispered, her lips barely moving, 'for luck.' She held it out for Troy to grab.

'Thanks.' Troy nodded as he softly took the bag, and then left, wondering why dolls would need an instruction book anyway.

With a final nod, she dismissed him, and he left, embarrassed.

Once he was out of earshot, the old lady looked around her stall and sighed. 'Shame, he seemed like a nice boy.'