Pantomime Doll

Judging by the general appearance of such a building I was about to enter, the insides would not have been very pleasant. Not that I had been expecting them to be so in the first place, since for this day alone I would forget who I was, the woman I know to be my own. I was here on a mission, and I couldn't let anything else slip into my mind, and this I knew as I took long and faraway glances at the building before me. Taking in every little detail, it could offer; a few broken windows of stained glass similar to the ones found in churches, neo-gothic stylicism mixed in with a feel of Italian creepiness. The overall gloom the dim incandescent lighting within produced didn't help much, either.

I couldn't help but notice the feeling of being watched, as if someone inside this building was expecting me, and the very thought of such brought such terrible thoughts to my head that I shivered within that heavy coat of mine. But I couldn't, I wouldn't. I would not let myself fall back, now that I was so close to what I'd been searching for the past year, no, I couldn't fail him now, even if I was so close to giving up all hopes. It was probably through sheer luck or divine intervention that I caught word downwind that this person may help me in this desperate search. I stroked at my engagement ring and sighed, that always seemed to calm me down when I was stressed.

Maybe it was the biting cold, or the thoughts that coursed through my mind because of that building, or maybe a combination of both that caused me to shiver continuously as I waited just outside that doorway. I could feel the cold air through the layers of my clothing, the very sensation of something akin to creeping death was something that was not very pleasant at all, and not something I'd like to partake of again soon.

In the dreary night my apprehensions about this whole thing were made worse, and everything else around of where I stood did not help much at all; a few dead rustling trees, a new moon already peaked in the night sky and the soft hymns sung by crickets frogs. Outside the gates was slightly business as usual, a few looters breaking windows, drive by shootings and muggings.

I spared nary a thought about the dangers our rotten society had produced ever since the Great Decline; a state in which no morals or righteousness existed now hung about my city, my home and I very well knew the dangers I could lure just by standing alone, out here in this dark area. Oh, how I longed for him, and I clung to fleeting hopes that this may be it, the person who may help me find him.

I may have been waiting for well over an hour outside before I saw the signal that it was my turn finally to come inside; the window above that ornately gothic-ish designed door flickered slightly with the quick on and off of a light inside. And with that I turned on a tall heel before heading t'wards of that heavy door.

My eyes fixated on that door and the pathway I was taking, and my thoughts tumbled asking what was to be found inside, only to be consumed by a flashback to one year before, to a time when he was still there so close to me.

Before that incident, there was only me and him, and nothing else that could stand between our strong loves so fair. The seasons came and went like the leaves of a maple tree, and yet time didn't seem to matter when I had him by my side each time we awoke in each other's arms. I'd see either his loving and angelic smile or his slumbering form each morning, and with that I was happy and content. We made love like no other, with him starting with a tiny nibble along my jaw line and earlobe before moving down to an evidently erect nipple and giving light suckles 'pon that hardened and sensitive nub. My hands reacted without a pinch of hesitation as they drew his head in closer and tighter against my breast, and with this he suckled on, even giving so much as a tiny tease of a flickering tongue or light kisses around my nipple. It made me want him even more.

I tilted my head back against the downy pillows; lips parting to let out a soft and sensual mix of what were a moan and gasp as the divine pleasures coursed through my yearning bod. I could already feel the wetness growing at my loins, and every infallible effort I made through grinding only kept my yearning strong. The sounds of wet lips smacking at each other caught his attention, and with not so much as a second wasted a strong hand slipped down between of my aching legs to sensually tease at my Mons, and even more so at my budding pearl. I quivered as I raised my hips in a vain attempt at getting his hand to stroke me there just right, and even went so far as to try and guide his hand with my own but to no avail. He was bent on teasing me. And he knew I loved every moment of it.

The heat of the moment was so intense, and the dreariness from my eyes was washed off by his skillful handling of my petals. My hands clutched and scraped at the broad of his back as soft gasps of imminent orgasm emanated from my lips full lips. I felt it, the growing heat between of my loins, only to be so cruelly cut short by the sudden halt in his tweaking. I let out a soft gasp and moan out of sheer frustration and severe longing, and I clutched inexorably at his hands for him to continue whilst my thighs began grinding at each other in a futile attempt to subdue the lion, so to speak.

My eyes lidded ever so softly, only for a brief moment, but that was more than enough for my lover to clamber atop of me with his strong manhood between of my legs, all ready prepared to take what was his. Our eyes met for a long moment, and instantly our minds were one. I could see the love in those deep, brown pools, and the lusting that drove me wild for all this. What followed all happened in the blink of an eye, and he was inside of me with one swift thrust of those powerful hips. No effort was spared, no thrust too weak as our lovemaking finally started with his heavy manhood stretching me wide with his sheer skill in this craft. I cried out in pure passion and the sheer pleasure this love endowed us with.

His hands, the very hands that clasped my own so many times, settled solidly on the space either side of my head to steady our beat. I could feel his manhood sliding in and out my wet channel, the very girth of the former spread my tight petals apart to a point near pain, but that itself was just a bonus. His heavy thrusts caused the bed to creak and yaw with the robot-like movements his strong body brought unto mine, and very soon, everything else but the pleasures he brought disappeared. I could hear his rough grunts, feel the heat and sweat our bodies produced, and the imminent rise of my orgasm once more. I could not help but notice the wet slapping sounds of flesh between our loins, and take note of how wet my thighs felt against his. Surely he felt it too, and I knew he loved having me as wet as this. I felt a spasm and tightened around of his cock as my first orgasm began creeping on me, which with enough thrusting on his part finally pushed me off the edge. My hands, which were locked around of his strong shoulders, tightened and scraped lightly at his skin as I felt a soft scream tear through my throat caused by the dam finally bursting.

Shortly after, I felt him shudder and come inside of me, his orgasm punctuated by the entrance of his seed into my soaked channel.

I shuddered, as well, soon after him sliding off me with a kiss to my lips to lay down by my side. It was perfect, just beautiful, and I sighed softly as I laid my head down atop of his muscular chest. His arm wrapped around of my shoulder and held me tight up against of himself before landing another kiss, only this time an affectionate one on my forehead.

I was stunned, suddenly finding myself face to face with a shriveled gypsy man silently glowering at me from the crack between the door and the doorway. I was so immersed in my reminiscing that I failed to notice myself knocking at the door only a few moments before, which needless to say, attracted the gypsy man to open the door for me. I was a bit embarrassed to find myself in such a predicament, and promptly straightened myself up to, at least, be presentable to strangers.

"You are looking for someone," said he with the broken posture.

"Yes... yes, I am," I said dimly, hoping again that this man may be the only hope I have left.

With that, the man slowly drew back, and with a groan of protest from the door, let me in.

The weak incandescent lighting seemed to flicker, causing the multitude of shadows inside to sway and dance as if on their own volition. This I took notice of as I walked past the door with the intent of facing the gypsy man, but was too late as he'd already motion for me to follow him further inside.

"Follow me...," said the crooked figure heading down the hall. And all I could do was follow what was said.

Up ahead was long and dark hallway, with only a few torches lighting the direction in which we were headed. The general ambience seemed to be that of some old castle, with pointed arches and spires rising from walls every so often. However, that in itself didn't strike me so much as what lined ridges and shelves along the walls, it was the myriad of pleasant-looking dolls that were seated in groups in random order near the ceiling.

They weren't there for long, or at least I could tell best under what limited lighting those torches and scarce lighting could offer. Maybe a few months at best, but I was not in any position to say anything as of the moment. I stared at the stooped figure up ahead of me, and I caught fleeting thoughts of what was probably once a tall and proud human being wasted to what remained by time and illness. We probably walked a few meters until I noticed he was draped in a black vest over a white, collared shirt, a belt with an obvious buckle, black pants and boots. The solid clicking of which made echoes throughout that dark hallway we passed through.

It didn't take long before I noticed up ahead at the end of the tunnel a faint light, the frail lights produced by either candles or that type of incandescent lighting old bulbs produced. However, I couldn't do much of anything else except seeing my mind off in another flashback to days much better than this.

I was back in my house, and the early morning sunlight was just beginning to shine in through the cracks between our curtains. As much as I wanted to, I simply could not throw open those curtains for fear that something unfortunate from the outside might befall us. What with the recent bombings, the terrorist threats, riots and rebellions becoming ever more common, anyone was a potential target, and an addition to the statistics. Nowadays merely standing at your window could get you shot, and that was something I dare not risk. I merely contented myself with preparing for the rough day ahead, a struggle in itself.

I tiptoed through my apartment and into my kitchen and grabbed a carton of milk from inside, whilst at the same time plucking out a tall glass from an adjacent holder, and poured myself some cold milk. To my dismay, I found that as I shook the carton there little remained any milk left after my drink, and that meant another 10 minutes of struggling and anxiety to get to the store itself. However, I left that matter to later on when I was coming home from my obscure job as a clerk in a bank.

It was a sad state of affairs, and to think that it wasn't only in this part of the world that this was happening. It was all over the world as well, it was like a disease that spread throughout the human race, a disease that ate through the morals and logical reasoning of perfectly normal people and turned them into something akin to chaotic evil. They didn't become insane or something akin to a brain-eating zombie. In fact, they looked like normal people, and for the most part, behaved like normal people until there came a time when they would suddenly change. This is called the Great Decline, a decline in the morals and goodness of people the world over, leaving only a few thousand honestly good people left. Why this happened, though, nobody knows for sure. At least, at the time, it was only me and him struggling in a world where we only had each other for comfort. It felt like each day, our world was getting smaller and smaller with the steady disappearances of the few good people left that we knew.

Flashback to another memory where it all fell to pieces. I find myself seeing him off for the day to get to his risky port job, and I go about my daily routine of getting ready for work, leaving with great care and before the night comes, get back home and at which point I prepare for him and myself dinner. This day was different, however, and I was constantly stalked by the thoughts and feelings that this may be the last time we saw each other for a very long time. I tried to ignore that feeling, knowing that the troubles today were almost a norm already and that he'd come back like any other day if he took good care of himself.

I stood there in the kitchen, thinking about this while peeling carrots, only to accidentally cut myself on the finger once. The shallow cut bled quite a lot, probably more than what should be normal, and I knew in that instant that something was not right. I stared at the drop of blood collecting on the cut, and at the tiny reflection on its surface. I thought I saw him sitting on his favorite spot on our couch and I instantly snapped back to look behind of me only to find the softly illuminated living room and an empty couch. My heart sank and I grew anxious as the minutes ticked by, but to no avail.

It was getting late and I resigned myself to sinking into the couch to wait for his arrival, pondering as well if I should go out and look for him myself. My heart wanted it, yearned for it. However, my better judgment and the memory of him dissuading me from going out alone at night kept me inside of our apartment. Outside, I heard a numb explosion, and I figured that it was probably just another war between rival gangs. I brushed it off as I hugged my knees to my chest and felt like drifting off to sleep while in wait.

This was a decision I would regard with mixed feelings later on as I began searching for him desperately.

I was surprised to find myself standing at the doorway at the end of the hallway, with the gypsy man standing inside and holding the string beads aside to let me in. He was giving me an exasperated look, as if cursing me for being so absent-minded and wasting his time like that. But even through the steely gaze of his hazel eyes I obliged to walk in, only to find myself confounded by the myriad of dolls similar to the ones in the hallway lining... no, completely covering up the walls of the rather large and dimly-lit room. The dolls all had smiles on their faces, rather pleasant and angelic smiles, as if hiding a message within. The eerie glow of the shelves of candles only made the dolls look more possessed, and I shuddered at the thought.

The room was richly decorated, a mix of Oriental, Mid-Eastern and European adornments scattered all about. Thick bearskin rugs, hand-woven wall banners, couches of all shapes and sizes, decorative plates and vases and other artifacts that probably stretch thousands of years back. Religious items, ones that trace back from Christianity, Islam, Judaism, and many more were all arranged in a pattern I couldn't distinguish in an altar at the clearest corner.

The man was already holding a chair ready for me, tilting it forward in my direction before uttering the word "Sit," with a firm tone.

I nodded and slowly settled on the wicker chair just as he lowered it firmly on the floor. It was a rather small chair, uncomfortable and Spartan-like in its appearance, but it did its purpose well in settling my rump. The man, on the other hand, settled into a big and comfortable chair similar to what you would see in old mansions where the Master would while his time away smoking a pipe near the fireplace. I felt rather apprehensive, and it felt like an interrogation of some sort with the man seated about 10 feet away from me to my front, across a snarling bearskin rug.

"I can give him back to you...," the man said, after a few long moments of tense air on my side.

"Where, where is he... how can you give him back to me, how?" I pleaded, now on the verge of desperation after taking in every word of his statement. A part of me full of joy and relief that I was finally going to be united with him after all this time, the other side full of dread of the unknown.

"I will tell you, on one condition," the man said out through the shadow the big chair cast on him.

"W-what... would that be...?" I choked in response, knowing that I would ill be able to pay this man in currency or material matters. After he disappeared, I let my life fall into ruins, not caring much for the state of my life nor the upkeep of my home for that matter. Just letting my daily impulses do what I felt, and through sheer luck and for the determination of finding him pulled through to this day.

"You must bear me a child," the man said coolly, but starkly through the shadows.

I must have gagged or nearly fainted in surprise at what this man wanted, for my world was as much in a blur the moment what he wanted sank in. I could not comprehend, much more really understand what his plan was, but in that instant I felt a hardened hand lightly glide along my shoulder, my bare skin and that hand being separated only by a thin layer of cloth from my blouse and a thermal undershirt.

"Are you insane?! That would be out of the question, and even if I did agree the wait would be too long for me, and even I suspect for you, as well," I blurted out in frustrated retort, thinking that this was some kind of game the perverted old man was playing.

But still, I could not help but feel somewhat relaxed, even agreeable to what this man was proposing. If only forhim.

"Leave that part to me," the man somewhat mumbled under his breath at the same time as standing up, walking towards me and before picking my right hand in a firm, but gentle grasp to lead me off the chair I was seated upon. I tensed and hesitated, but felt convinced somehow that I was in safe hands.

He lead me ever so slowly around the room, along the shelves where the dolls were collected, their eyes seeming to watch me with great intent and anticipation whilst the man walked with greater and speed and grace than what was expected. It seemed we were both in a dance of sort for he was soon spinning me around, dipping me backwards, both bodies swaying to a slowly growing tune in the background.

It must have been magic of some sort, for I even began to enjoy it and allowed myself to sink further into this sort of euphoria as we both danced in the middle of the room, our audience those fathomless dolls. Little by little, though I would not notice until later on, my clothing began to disappear, starting from my blouse that was unbuttoned one by one before it totally disappeared, then my shoes, my pants until I was left only in my underwear. How this happened while we danced, I do not know. But what was left on the old man was his surprisingly toned and muscled body.

We continued out swirling dance, his bony hands skillfully coursing up and down my waist and hips before snaking up his right hand to undo my bra from the front. Quickly and easily, they were dispatched, leaving my supple mounds bouncing to our graceful steps. I've never danced like this before, and how I was doing this I know not until now. It was addicting, and every sway, every step and every dip got me more, and more into this whole dance. I thought that maybe a spell had been cast on me, and my mind's eye flashed back to where the old man touched me on the shoulder earlier. That must have been it.