House of Dolls 5

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House of Dolls 5 Page 6

by Harmon Cooper


  His smile started to crack when a length of fabric unfurled from the ceiling, the swaths of cloth growing thicker by the second and wrapping together until they formed a man.

  “Who will it be?” the teleporter asked.

  Roman nodded his dolls over. Once Celia and Coma had joined him, he felt a strange sensation spread through his body as it started to stretch toward the ceiling.

  He reformed with his dolls at a designated teleportation zone near a diner that was being renovated.

  “Bye,” Celia told the teleporter, the man nodding before leaving.

  Roman looked at the nearest street sign and saw he was near the center of Centralia, which was actually not very far from his apartment, no more than a couple of kilometers.

  So he walked.

  His dolls with him, Roman kept his hands in the pocket of his jacket as he made his way to the west.

  The streets were very busy, and aside from a light wind, it was a pretty day in a city that was often gray.

  The clouds had shifted again, and the sun was reflecting off some of the buildings, casting arcs of light onto the streets and providing shade that was instantly five degrees cooler than the places where the sun reached.

  “Why don’t you animate Casper?” Coma asked. “She likes this sort of thing.”

  “Sure, but she’s your responsibility if she gets out of hand,” Roman said as he waved his hand over his pocket, Casper poking her head out.

  “Hey, you’re taking me on a walk!” she said in a cheery voice.

  “You can thank Coma for that. It was her idea.”

  “Do I have to?” Casper asked. “And what’d I miss? Did we save the world yet?”

  “Hardly,” Roman said.

  “We met with Nadine,” Celia chimed in. “She looks like she’s lost a pound or two. Don’t you think so?”

  “I didn’t notice,” Coma said.

  “Ugh, Nadine,” Casper groaned. “Are we heading to the East or what? How did you convince her? Did you promise her a little cunnilingus?”

  “Not exactly,” Roman said, unable to prevent a grin from shaping on his face.

  Every time Casper was vulgar, Roman had to remind himself that her personality was part of him, although there were times he didn’t know which part of him she was replicating.

  He had forgiven her for how she’d thrown him under the trolley in the West when she had blabbed to Ava and the other exemplars about what Roman had done during his first trip to the Eastern Province.

  Casper’s assistance had turned out to be in his favor in the end, if killing his former coworker could be considered ‘saving the day.’

  “And tonight?” Casper asked.

  She had been talking nonstop for a few minutes now while Roman focused on something else, his thoughts running a bit rampant inside his skull.

  “I have other plans for tonight. We leave in the morning.”

  Roman didn’t say much more as the three of them walked. Casper eventually transferred from his jacket pocket to the pocket on the front of Coma’s Gothic Loli dress, the tiny doll commenting on people who passed them.

  Once they arrived back at Roman’s home, he asked Celia to make a light meal, noticing that the pantry was fully stocked and there were several bottles of wine in it as well.

  It wasn’t long before he got a message from Miranda, asking him if it was okay if she came over a little earlier and reminding him to put his dolls up.

  “Everyone in the closet,” Roman said, Casper lighting into Roman for making such a strange demand.

  “And another thing…” the tiny doll started to say as he lifted her by the shoulder and she almost wiggled her way out of his grip. “Let me go!”

  “This has to happen,” Roman told her, and in that instant Casper was deactivated. Celia and Coma got into the closet, Roman deactivating Celia first.

  “I’m going to keep you active, but I need you to stay here,” Roman told Coma.

  “I understand.”

  “I can’t tell you everything that’s going on right now. I hope you understand that.”

  “I understand.”

  “It’s going to get a little stranger before it gets better.”

  “Assuredly so.”

  Roman placed his hand on her waist, looking Coma deep in her red eyes. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “I’ll stay here. If my services are needed, I’ll be ready.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to be anything like that. It’s just best to have someone else around, just in case.”

  Roman messaged Miranda, letting her know to come now.

  After a quick trip to the restroom to make sure he was presentable, Roman returned to the kitchen just as an orb made of smoke began to form in the center of the room. It floated around for a moment before finding a suitable place, where Miranda appeared alongside an authorized female teleporter.

  The teleporter was gone before Roman could tell Miranda how great she looked.

  Her blue hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a red dress and a short black jacket, ballet flats that were strung up to her knees and a black belt made of shiny leather.

  “Flattery will get you nowhere. Why am I here, Roman?”

  “I made food,” Roman said, motioning toward the table.

  “You made it, or one of your dolls did?”

  “Eat, I’ll pour us some wine.”

  “Again, why am I here?” Miranda said, and Roman started to feel that telepathic creep at the back of the skull.

  “I felt some tension between us. I figured we could relieve it with a nice dinner and some wine.”

  “Is that all?” With Miranda standing just a few inches away from him now, Roman could feel the energy passing between them.

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  For a moment Roman thought that she was going to kiss him, but she walked right past him instead, brushing her shoulder against him, her faint lavender scent meeting his nostrils.

  She sat and the two of them ate, Roman discussing what had happened with Nadine. He could feel her prowling freely in his head now, confirming everything he’d said.

  He knew that eventually, even if she did have some self-control, she would figure out why he had invited her over.

  And Roman let her.

  It wasn’t long after they’d finished eating until they were on the couch finishing their first bottle of wine and she made a sound with her throat.

  “You…” She turned to Roman, a curious look on her face.

  “You weren’t supposed to check in that box,” Roman said, tapping on his temple.

  She smiled, her cheeks red from the alcohol. “You’re letting me look around freely.”

  “It’s the wine,” Roman assured her. “I don’t normally let telepaths pry.”

  The stage was set.

  Roman knew it, and Miranda had come to accept it.

  Neither of them waited any longer.

  She moved on top of him, Roman bracing himself for what it was about to be like to have sex with a telepath.

  Chapter Seven: Telepathic Scenes

  Roman was falling.

  It took him a moment to realize what was happening, that Miranda was fully in his mind now, both of them spiraling in the air as she fucked the living shit out of him.

  His realization became a spark on the horizon that spread toward him, engulfing both of them in a matter of seconds, the two now rolling through a sea of embroidered cushions as the canopy above swelled into myriad images.

  And for a moment, Roman was under the telepath’s spell again.

  He gazed up at the images, watching as they swirled together, faces appearing, mouths opening, tongues falling out of the mouths with spit dripping off their tips.

  There’s more, a voice said at the back of his head.

  No, Roman replied, again coming to grips with what was happening.

  In a flash he was back in his living room, lying on the floor, Miranda on top of him, the te
lepath’s hands on his chest, her tits perkier than ever as she pressed them together.

  And Roman let it happen, simply watching.

  He let her take full control, to the point that Miranda was now in charge of his body, Roman fucking her the way she wanted to be fucked. He was merely a hard prick by this point, Miranda not at all concerned if he orgasmed or not. Her only concern was to keep him as erect as humanly possible.

  And it went on like this for much longer than it should have, the telepath switching positions and at one point sitting on Roman’s face, Roman entirely under her spell.

  He did finally orgasm in the end, but only at her command, and even then she left Roman with the mess on his belly, a reason to move to the bathroom to clean up.

  Roman’s own thoughts came to him once he was in the shower alone.

  He canceled them all out.

  Roman knew what he was doing.

  After cleaning himself off, he returned to the living room to find Miranda on the couch, the woman now in a crimson robe she’d found in one of the linen closets.

  “Thank you,” the telepath said with a purr as Roman sat down next to her. Miranda lightly ran her fingers through her hair. “How did you know I needed that?”

  “I aim to please,” Roman said, waiting for her to check and see if he actually meant it.

  She didn’t.

  Roman couldn’t help but smile. The telepath now somewhat trusted him, which was exactly what he wanted.

  “Was it good for you?” he asked. “I hope it was.”

  “That was…” Miranda bit her lip, looking away from him.

  “What?” he asked her in a soft, teasing voice.

  “It was absolutely amazing. I’m guessing you know I’ve done something similar to that before…”

  “Take over someone’s mind and then use them to fuck you the way you want to be fucked?”

  “Yes, but yours was different. It was just so…” She let out a deep breath. “Let’s not analyze what has transpired here.”

  There was a knock at the door, startling both of them.

  Roman went to the door and looked through the peephole, unable to hide his gasp.

  “Shit,” he said to himself, glad as hell that the woman standing outside the door hadn’t just teleported inside his apartment.

  I’m aware, Miranda thought to Roman. Make her go away. I don’t feel like leaving tonight.

  She’s hard to persuade.

  So am I. You don’t want her seeing me here, do you?

  Shit. I’ll see what I can do, Roman thought back.

  It’s your ass, not mine.

  After making sure he was presentable, Roman casually opened the door, noticing the smell of alcohol almost instantly. “Brought you your paperwork…” Ava said, trying to cover a hiccup.

  “I was sleeping,” Roman told her, feigning annoyance in his voice.

  The redhead looked at him curiously for a moment. “Care if I come in?”

  “It’s been a long day, Ava. I decided to walk back from the briefing, and then Casper wanted to go to the park. So much walking. I just need to get some sleep.”

  His former teacher’s eyes narrowed on Roman’s hair, which was slightly wet. “You look like you’ve just got out of the shower.”

  “No, it was just warm in my room. I should probably open a window, but I was enjoying it. Can we postpone this?” he asked, trying to be both firm and kind at the same time. “You really mean a lot to me.”

  “Yes,” Ava said suddenly, shoving the paperwork into Roman’s hands. “You sure have a way of making it seem like I matter to you. Whatever. You know what? Maybe you’re right. I’m sorry, I’m saying too much. Roman?”

  “Yes?”

  “Good luck in the East. I know you can just forge this paperwork, but we wanted it to look as legitimate as possible. I’ll be in contact when you get back, as mental messaging won’t work there.”

  “Right.”

  “Maybe we can grab dinner once you’re back. And discuss the next part of this, you know.”

  “I know.”

  Roman could tell that Ava still wanted to come in, that she wanted him to embrace her. But he merely smiled at the woman, trying not to think in that moment of what he was attempting to do here by steering their relationship.

  He had to watch his thoughts.

  Ava begrudgingly said goodbye, and Roman shut the door, setting the paperwork on a table off to the left.

  “I’m glad she didn’t blow the door down,” Miranda said, her blue hair now pulled back into a tight ponytail. “I didn’t know you two were…”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I don’t care, personally,” Miranda said. “You aren’t the only…”

  “Only what?” Roman asked her with a grin.

  “Never mind. Let’s go to bed. Unless you want me to sleep on the couch or something,” she said with a yawn.

  “No, let’s. My bed is definitely big enough for two people.”

  “I figured as much.”

  Once they made it to his bedroom, Roman slept better than he’d slept in a week, likely because of the telepath.

  No dreams, which gave him a little anxiety when he woke up in the morning considering he’d been hoping to meet with Abby the dreamwalker again.

  After Roman was up, he turned to see Miranda on his bed, a bit inconsiderate in the way that she slept with her arms sprawled out. And well aware that it would add tension between them, Roman quietly slipped out of the room and got dressed in the hallway, where he met Coma.

  “How did it go?”

  “It went well. Let’s get to the station.”

  His masked doll nodded. “Will we be riding in the cargo hold again?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Roman said. “I really wish this weren’t the case, but…”

  “That’s fine. I’ll tell Celia.”

  Once Roman was ready, he animated his second doll and the three joined in the living room, Casper still in his pocket without life.

  Roman ordered a teleporter, and after a short pause, the faint smell of cinnamon reached his nostrils.

  He inhaled deeply and a woman took shape, seemingly coming from Roman’s own exhale.

  “Breathe with me,” the teleporter said. Roman took a deep breath in.

  It felt like he was sucked into the teleporter’s mouth, everything spiraling in the direction of the woman’s face.

  He appeared at the Eastern Mane train station, a sense of alarm rising in his chest and then settling as his surroundings became clear.

  There was a porter helping to load items under the back of the train, and Roman spotted the two caskets Celia and Coma would be riding in near the man.

  “I really wish they had made passports for us,” Celia said. “It’s never great riding like that.”

  “I suppose I could have whipped something up…” Roman started to say.

  “But maybe it’s better for you to bring less attention to yourself, at least until we get into the country,” Coma said.

  “Exactly.”

  Roman had the dolls sit on a bench before taking their lives from them. He carried Celia over to one of the caskets and the porter opened it, allowing Roman to gently place her inside.

  “I’ve heard of these things,” the porter said with a sly grin. He wore a striped outfit with green trim around the collar, his nametag reading M. Jacques. “Are they yours?”

  “Nope, delivery for a client,” Roman told him.

  “Man, do they look real,” the man said, licking his lips as he gazed down at Celia’s breasts.

  And for just a moment, Roman thought about animating Celia, allowing her to blink once or twice before taking her life away again, just to spook the man.

  But he didn’t.

  He returned to the bench and brought Coma over, also putting her in a casket. The only difference was that once Coma was sealed up, Roman returned life to her just in case she was needed.

  He was glad she wasn’t a
human in this regard, not one to be easily frightened by being stuck in such a small, confined place for an extended period of time.

  After they were finished packing up his dolls, Roman turned to the platform to see a woman seated at one of the benches.

  She wore a trench coat and a green scarf, her hair in a bun and a leather overnight bag on her lap.

  He couldn’t help but smile as Nadine waved to him.

  Once he reached her, Roman caught a flash of another teleporter at the end of the platform. He looked to see Miranda and Naomi, both wearing normal clothing, Miranda’s purse the same blond color as Jess’s hair.

  We’re here, Miranda thought to him. Also, what the hell? Not even some breakfast for me?

  Roman ignored her as he greeted Nadine.

  You’re serious right now? Okay, be a dick about it. See if I care.

  Another message came from her about a minute later as Roman and Nadine were taking their cabin.

  You can’t just ignore me.

  Sorry, Roman thought back to her. I didn’t think you were hungry and I was running late.

  Chapter Eight: Rebels without a Cause

  The train was five cars long, with Roman and Nadine taking the first car and Miranda letting Roman know she and her companions had moved to the second.

  It was one of the express trains, so there wasn’t going to be an overnight scenario, but Nadine had still arranged for herself and Roman to have one of the executive cabins, which had a bed and a little writing table in front of a small porthole of a window. The decor of the executive cabin was a bit antiquated, especially with its polished wood paneling that had been popular when Roman was a child. Yet it was quaint and comfortable, which counted for something.

  Roman sat on the bed, then lay back with his hands behind his head as Nadine spoke to the conductor.

  “Funny enough,” she said once the conductor left, “the person I used to work with was a close friend of his family.”

  “How did you make that connection?”

  “Because I went to that person’s birthday party, and he was there. I remember him.”

  “You really can remember faces well, can’t you?” Roman asked as he sat up.

  Nadine took a seat on the chair across from them, kicking her legs up. Roman took them into his hands and rested them on his lap. “It’s one of my many known traits.”

 

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