Voodoo Domination

This was the fist erotic serial I ever wrote, and this shows. I had thought it lost until I stumbled upon it randomly on an old DeviantArt account. I've fixed a number of spelling mistakes and spruced up the lines but otherwise it's the same (for posterity's sake, y'know).

Naturally, I don't believe in any of the things I write and am in fact a staunch feminist in reality. This is just a fantasy and that's the realm in which it stays. In real life, keep everything cool, fun, respectful and consensual.

* * *

The drop of blood fell through the air and landed on the soft fabric.

It was almost anticlimactic.

All that research, all that time, all those sewing lessons (the textiles teacher was thrilled to find such an enthusiastic student, that is to say, one that even vaguely gave a damn).

“Finally,” he commented, watching with tangible excitement as the red ran deep into the heart of the doll, the red splodge vaporising between his very eyes.

‘And now, for one last ingredient,’ Danny thought to himself, holding a hair level with his eyes in a way a diabolical experimenter would, ‘a smidge of DNA.’

Because vague, largely inexplicable dark magic was a massive stickler to logical, biometric start-up sequences.

It was a black hair, belonging to Danny’s longest ever crush, Beth. Some bitch she turned out to be. He had asked her out once, still under the erroneously sentimental impression that she was indeed a nice person. But she turned him away. It wasn’t fair! How was he to know she had a boyfriend? How was he to know that grabbing onto a woman’s arm when she turned him away was not what you were supposed to do? How was he to know going for a quick few jabs at her boobs was also not what you were supposed to do? How was he to know that her boyfriend was that very tall, very muscular and very angry looking person next to her?

His GCSE prom was a fairly painful one.

But that didn’t matter anymore. He was in sixth-form now. He was a man now. And he had the perfect means of on her and everyone else that had caused him pain.

Tentatively, he laid the hair upon the blank doll’s chest and placed it onto the desk. The hair caught alight with a brilliant golden glow and sunk into the doll. The little rag figure began to change, becoming more like her, resizing each part of its anatomy to proportionally reflect her. Dark strands of black hair sprouted from its head and topped at its shoulders. Its face reshaped to show her visage and all her other features became more defined. He watched in amazement, and with no small amount of giddiness, as pubic hair sprouted from out its crotch. In fact… everything was there, in extensive detail. The books didn’t say anything about this but… well, he wasn’t going to complain. In fact, he saw it more as a sort of preview. It made sense too, it wasn’t like clothes were part of her biology.

He was a little dismayed however to see her breasts shrink from what he originally designed them to look like. Admittedly, he might have taken some liberties in the effort of helping his imagination and motivation along, but it was still a little disappointing. He guessed it just showed how much of a shallow, fake bitch she really was.

He picked the doll and inspected it thoroughly, spreading its legs and staring for an exorbitant amount of time. It was about the size of a barbie doll and had the visual authenticity of a real human, but still felt like fabric.

A devious smile spread itself across his lips as he laid the doll back onto his desk. Pulling out a drawer, he picked up a bulldog clip and brought it over to Beth-Doll’ tits, clamping it tight over the both of them.

He looked up out of the window and cackled deviously to see her silhouette scramble out of bed from the house opposite.

Tomorrow was going to be a fantastic day.