I watched my little sister sit on the singular step at the front door, slipping on her loafers and picking up her coat, almost ready for the school day ahead. But, before allowing her to leave, I needed something from her. I walked a bit closer, and reached my hand out towards her soft, short hair. She jumped in surprise as I plucked a single hair.

"Ow!" she cried, looking back up at me, with a pouty expression. She rubbed her head where I had touched. "Why'd you do that?"

I pocketed the hair, smiling at her. "I need it."

"For what?" She still seemed mad, but now a bit more curious.

I turned away towards the stairs, beginning my ascent back into my room. "You'll see soon enough, Fumi!" I called. She shrugged, heading out the door. While I knew this usually would have led into a full on investigation by my intrusive little sister, she couldn't just ditch school. I arrived at the end of the hall on the second floor, where my own room stood out like a sore thumb in the cheery home. As a proud member of the occult club, I've dedicated my decorations to a dark and gloomy theme. I liked keeping the lights off, instead lighting my room with scented candles that gave off a strange, smoky scent. The only window was covered with blackout curtains, so that no light could escape past it. The bed was adorned with black satin sheets that looked like they belonged in a coffin. I went into my pockets and produced the single strand of hair from Fumi, twisting it around my fingers and rubbing them together. It smelled faintly of her shampoo.

I placed it on a table and began to gather ingredients for the ritual. As I gathered things from drawers and shelves, the table slowly populated with various objects: A jar of salt, a white candle, a bowl of water tinted green from floating herbs. I dropped to the floor and reached my arm under my bed, fishing out my onahole. It was fleshy and pink as it lay in my hand, but this time it would serve a different purpose as a key ingredient. I brought it over and set it down on the table, then knelt back down on the floor, opening a black tome that read "Forbidden Rites". The pages were tinged yellow from age, some with a few taped-over tears, and the cover was worn at the edges from many hands. The title was embossed with gold leaf, and the author was scratched out.

I flipped open the book to a bookmarked page. At the top, in a gothic font, read, "To Create A Voodoo Onahole", then followed it by the steps necessary to make one. I was careful to follow the recipe, glittering the salt in patterns perfectly replicating the instructions, letting my pink onahole dangle into the bowl of water while it infused the liquid. Other preparations were completed too, of course, this operation being quite complex; but it was finally done. All I had to do was to take the poached strand of Fumi's hair, and place it into the water with the onahole while I chanted the words to the spell.

As I finished the last line, "I transmutate thee! O toy of pleasure, become a living vessel, to fulfill my wishes!", the water turned a deep purple and opaque, hair dissolving and onahole morphing rapidly. It was reshaping into a large, dark shape in the bowl, becoming longer and thicker with each passing moment. It took up the full size of the bowl and flopped out, now looking more like a torso. And just like that, the ritual was over, and I was left with a... new kind of onahole. It resembled a little girl's torso that I instantly recognized as a replication of Fumi: a prepubescent and petite chest, little bud-like breasts with light brown nipples, small waist and hips. It was only a torso though; it was missing its legs and arms. At the bottom of the Fumi-onahole was a puffy, round pussy with a slit and a clitoris that were both completely lifelike.

My cock throbbed at the sight. I hadn't felt this excited in weeks. The old pink toy was nothing compared to this beauty. And what's better, what made my dick throb even harder? With any touch I made to her, I knew somewhere in the world wherever the actual Fumi was, she would feel it! The thought made my cock throb again, and I leaned forward, lightly rubbing my fingers along the outside of her pussy lips, squishing, rubbing and circling them all over her pussy, hoping that she would feel it. After all, I did tell her she would find out what I needed her hair for soon enough!

***

Fumi sat in class, bored out of her mind. The teacher droned on about something lame, Fumi keeping her head down and scribbling notes into her notebook. The class wasn't interesting, and she was having a hard time concentrating on her work. That was, until she felt a light tingle on her crotch. It started off slow and then increased. She looked around, seeing her fellow middle schoolers focusing on their work, or just as bored as she was moments before. Fumi blushed and looked back down at her work, trying to figure out why it felt like a finger was rubbing her... private parts? She tried to ignore the feeling, but it only got more intense. It switched techniques frequently. First she felt her lips jiggled around, then she felt her clit lightly brushed... Then her whole mound was tickled...

She was embarrassed, but she didn't dare say anything to anyone around her. She crossed her legs under her desk, hoping nobody would notice her red face. Finally, after a few more moments of toying and tickling her private parts, the sensations stopped. She waited a few seconds, wondering if it was a product of puberty or maybe something else. Nothing. The teacher called on Fumi and in a monotone voice, asked, "Fumi, could you please come up to the board and solve this equation?"

She got up and speed-walked to the board, still worried that her face was a bit more red than usual, and that students would notice. She grabbed a white piece of chalk and started solving the math problem. A quarter of the way through, the sensations returned, this time in her budding breasts and nipples. It felt as if some lecherous tongue was lapping at them. They tingled in excitement, then began to throb as if they were being sucked on! She blushed more heavily than before, hurrying her work in order to get it over with as fast as possible.

The teacher was watching her closely and when she noticed Fumi's unusual behavior, she decided to speak up. "Fumi, is there something wrong? Your face is flushed."

"No," she lied quickly. "It's nothing. Just a little headache."

The teacher nodded, satisfied at her answer and allowed her to continue. She tried to hold her breath as the phantom assailment went to work on her little tits. What little mass her small tits did have was kneaded rigorously and her nipples were pulled between thumb and forefinger until they were pinched and hardened into stiff peaks.