The Scatterbrain Invocation Club

The Scatterbrain Invocation Club

Dedicated to my fellow scatterbrains, animals, robots, and anyone who feels overcome by patterns, impulses, and dreams.

-IT

"You, are such a slut," Dorey said, laughing.

Her friend laughed too. It was hard not to. Her makeup was smeared, she had a big, sleepy smile, and there was a trace of something pearly on her chest and the backs of her hands that Dorey supposed could pass for skin cream, until you noticed the glob above her eyebrow.

"And your rack, woman," she said, realizing her friend was far too fucked out to contribute to the conversation. Last time they'd seen each other, she'd been no bigger than Dorey. Now, they swelled up and out and through, stretching the v-neck of what could only be described as a shiny spandex sex romper into a "u."

"You must be getting so much cock," she added.

"So much cock," the friend agreed.

* * *

Earlier

"She's doing it again," said Amica, pulling her shoulders back, fresh stirrup piercings dangling a row of little silver chimes in the shape of bamboo, dangling from her puffy, newly pierced nipples. They tugged, rattled quietly while she walked.

She turned towards the mirror,"She's always starting fights with me, because she doesn't like these," she shook her tits back and forth at her reflection, blowing a kiss. "Maybe she's right. They're a little overwhelming. They'll look so much better tomorrow, when I pfff!" She blew out her lips comically, her hands miming her small, pointy breasts expanding rapidly.

"And there are other treats coming too!" she said, reaching her hand down to her freshly waxed cunt. "Might as well redecorate while you're out."

Suddenly, she stumbled a step, her head sagging momentarily to the side.

"Oh, that caught your attention," she said, pressing her fingers between her lips. "Well, here's a little something to-"

* * *

There was something Dorey needed to remember. Her mind had wandered, and she'd heard her own voice, and that usually meant there was something she needed to remember.

Dorey was a distractable dreamer, often lost in her own mind, so she'd taught herself little tricks to help her navigate. They were strange, ad hoc tricks, based around the rhythms and locations of her life. She'd taught herself to think of her calendar every time she got up to go to the bathroom or make tea, because those were things she did when it was time to put away whatever she was working on and get ready for an event. She'd learned to recognize the sensation she got, like hearing a voice in the background, when there was something just below consciousness that she needed to remember. And she'd sing little songs to keep track of what she was doing, and how she felt about it.

At first, the tricks had made her feel like an animal or a robot: all structures, patterns, and impulses. But as the tricks proved themselves, they became a source of pride. After nearly 30 years, she'd managed to get her career, social life, health, and various obligations balanced, and she'd managed to do it while working from home with clients who appreciated her and enough money to enjoy herself a little. Not a world shaking achievement, maybe, but not bad for the girl who once couldn't sit still long enough to fill out a worksheet.

"Holy shit," Dorey said to herself, "what the fuck?"

She shook her chest gently from side to side to make sure she was seeing this right. The soft jingling informed her that she most definitely was. This wasn't an ill-advised haircut or a small tattoo, these were fucking nipple piercings. And not just a small stud, but showy, jangly piercings meant to draw attention. They looked like pasties mounted permanently through her flesh.

Why was that thought so arousing? She could feel them throbbing painfully, and she felt a little shaky. Wounded. Wounded and hungry and horny. She'd probably done it only hours ago. At least the hunger made sense -- her body needed to heal, and wanted fuel.

But she'd had all these thoughts before, she realized, and las time she'd been angrier and more frightened. And something whispered in the back of her mind that there had been other changes, changes which she hadn't noticed yet, and changes which were coming, whether she wanted them or not.

* * *

It had all been going so well until she'd met Kell down at her local. At first, she'd ignored him, assuming it was a lame pickup line, but he'd repeated it.

"You do it to, don't you?"

"Do what?" she'd asked, in a tone of voice that should not have encouraged him.

"I saw you, walking up to the bar singing to yourself, 'tab, ta-tab, tab, gotta pay the taaaab.'"

"That's, uh...." she paused, suddenly not wanting to say it was creepy or disturbing, or any of the other words she might normally say to a man watching her too closely in a bar. "That's not the melody," she finished with a reluctant smile.

"I've got this whole system I've worked out to keep my mind on track," he said, sliding his shoulder up to hers. "Little songs, little invocations, tricks to keep track of what all the parts are doing; It's too bizarre to explain to most people, and I thought I was the only one."

"Yeah, it's weird," she said. "They're a bit like voices, but they're all me. It's not like they're different people or personalities. But they're still, I don't know, fragments, I guess?"

"Yeah. Or like spores blowing in the wind," Kell said with a smile.

"Sure. Uh, spores works." Dorey said, accepting the check from the bartender.

"Did you say Coors?" he asked. "You want one more, now?"

"Oh, no, I'm good," she said, a little horrified at the idea of following her shot of Elijah Craig with Coors.

"Actually, since you just cashed out, why don't you let me buy you a round?"

Dorey looked at her empty tumbler. "Yeah, sure. Okay."

"So, have you ever tried adding one in?" Kell asked, grinning excitedly.

"Adding what?" she asked, feeling both relieved and a tiny bit disappointed that he was continuing on about the "spores," rather than chatting her up. He wasn't exactly her type, but he wasn't not her type. And he was so excited about the strange thing they shared that she couldn't help but be a little charmed.

"Adding a voice."

"It doesn't work that way," she said. "All I'm really doing is listening to myself. They're not even voices, exactly."

"It's easier than you think," he said. "I can show you."

"I didn't say it was hard," she said, "I said it doesn't work that way."

"Come on, I'll show you. Tell me somewhere the voices have... I mean, where you've let yourself down. Maybe something you've been forgetting lately."

She shrugged. "Well, I could be better about workout and nutrition, for one."

"I can't believe that," Kell said, looking her up and down. "You look gorgeous."

"Well, thank you, but, it's a constant struggle. I get involved in a project, miss a day, and the next thing I know, I've been sitting on my ass for a week, eating Doritos."

"Okay," he said, reaching into his shoulder bag. "I'm going to introduce you to my friend, Amica."

He pulled out a dark wooden box, and opened it, showing a set of silver jewelry. "Amica is in here," he said, pointing to a pair of piercings. They were small and sort of cute for the moment or two she thought they were earrings. "You can see, they have personality. What you're going to do is put them on-"

"Uh, aren't those nipple piercings?"

"Oh yeah, right," Kell said, looking embarrassed. "Alright, well you're going to hold them in your hands, and say, 'Amica, remind me how to care for my body.'"

"And then what? What do I do next?"

"Well, you engage with her through the piercings. I assume you're not-" he gestured to her chest.

She shook her head.

"Well, anyway, you can look at them, keep them in your pocket, or maybe put them on a cord. And when you think of it, say, 'Amica, remind me how to care for my body.' And the thing is, over time, she'll start to answer."

"What will she say?" Dorey asked.

"I don't know. Whatever you need her to. It's your head."

"Well, alright," she said, picking them up. "Amica, remind me how to care for my body."

She felt a shiver, as though someone were chuckling very quietly, very close to her ear.

"It's working already," Kell smiled.

"Uh, listen. I can't-" she started, about to turn them down. But she found she didn't want to. She wanted to hear what Amica said. "I mean, can I give you anything for these? They're, uh, beautiful."

"Don't worry about it. There are a few others like us, and I always give something away when I meet a new one. Just take my number so you can tell me how it works. Or, you know, if you'd like to do this again."

She smiled at his bashful expression. "Yeah, that sounds.... Didn't you say you thought you were the only one?"

"What?"

"When you came up to me, you said you thought you were the only one."

"Ha! Well, I mean, I used to, and then I met the others," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

Dorey looked at him curiously. "Right. Well, I might give you a call sometime to tell you how it went," she said.

Dorey liked Kell, almost immediately. He was charming, generous, kind of cute. He even gave her a little black cord to keep the jewelry around her neck. But there was still something about the whole situation that set off an alarm in some corner of her mind.

At first, she thought it was just the idea of getting involved with a man who she'd bonded with over his crackpot idea. She pictured having to humor him, or having him try to work on her to get her into his little scatterbrain invocation club. But when Amica made her presence known, the alarm bells only got louder.

The first time Amica appeared was that very night. Dorey was lying in bed, trying to sleep with her thoughts racing, when the phrase passed through her head: "Amica, remind me how to care for my body."

Immediately, the most irritatingly peppy voice she'd ever heard chimed in: "Try getting your heart rate up for a while!" It sounded so loud and immediate that she sat up in bed, looking around the room for the intruder in near panic. There was no one there.

"Fuck, I need more sleep," she muttered to herself, rubbing her eyes.

"Heart rate, silly. Cardio is great for insomnia!" The voice was a little quieter this time, and less alarming, but her tone was still a little uncanny. Dorey's inner voice always sounded like her, but this one was nothing like her. The voice was cartoonish -- high and breathy, with every other word accented, like some cheerleader bimbo character from an eighties farce.

"Go away. I'm not getting out of bed," she mumbled to herself. There was no response. She closed her eyes, but now she was even more awake than before. It was a quiet night, but her mind was racing; even the soothing sound of the the air blowing through the vents seemed turbulent and grating.

So she reached into her dresser door for a toy. For Dorey, masturbation was mostly a way to take care of business. She had several toys, but she'd fallen into a routine with one in particular: a wand vibe she used in more or less the same way every time. First, she'd finger herself for a few minutes to warm up, then she'd press the vibe against her clit, have a quick cum, and pass out.

But somehow, it didn't seem like enough this time. She reached back in and grabbed a second toy: a long, gently curved dildo she used to like so much that one of her exes referred to it as " your other boyfriend." Slowly, she worked herself up to the edge, thrusting deeper and faster every time. Then finally, she pressed the vibe against her clit, grinding it hard.

The climax was intense. Normally, she'd have a short, percussive climax like a flash of light, then come down and go to sleep. But this one rolled through her, strobing and twinkling, with little glowing aftershocks as she came down again. She could feel her heart racing when it was over. She'd gotten her heart rate up, just like Amica said. And she drifted off to sleep, wondering what the peppy little nag would remind her about tomorrow.

* * *

"-great!"

Dorey sat up with a start. She'd slept in. Her clock showed 9:15, and bright sunshine filled the room, as if trying to rub it in. It made her think of-

"I said that was great! It felt so good to get your heart pumping, we should do it again!"

"Fuck," Dorey said, rubbing her eyes. "Not now."

She braced to hear the chirpy voice again, but the room was silent. She sighed, getting up. She'd planned to get up an hour earlier. With a 10:00 meeting with her client, she barely had time to scarf down a couple pieces of buttered toast, as she put the final touches on her presentation. She felt weirdly guilty about that. Her cholesterol was high, and she'd had trouble breaking her habit of slathering the butter on. She finished proofreading and clutched the little piercings hanging on the cord absentmindedly. Done, with an extra 10 minutes before the meeting.

"We should do it again; gotta work off that butter!"

"Fuck no, we shouldn't." she mumbled to herself. But her zipper was down, her fingers absently tugging at her pubic hair. It felt good. She slipped her hand a little lower, shivering at the sensation.

"No!" She stood up and went to the kitchen. Eight minutes left. She munched on a handful of chips as she went over the presentation one more time in her head, nervously pulling at the cord. She shouldn't be snacking this soon after breakfast. She'd need a reminder to skip her afternoon snack. But it kept her hands busy, and distracted her from the way her body seemed to want to follow Amica's advice.

The meeting didn't exactly go well, but it went well enough. She stumbled over her presentation more than usual, but she coped by staying upbeat. It half worked. She caught Hana, the social media girl, rolling her eyes at one point, but Jim, the SEO guy, was completely won over by her presentation.

"Great energy, Dorey. Loved it!"

"Thanks," she'd said, with an uncharacteristic giggle. "We should do it again!"

"Uh, sure Dorey," he chuckled, looking a little perplexed as Hana silently turned off her camera and left.

As soon as the other two were gone, Dorey stripped off her pants and thrust her finger deep inside of herself, already flushed with arousal and embarrassment. And she came, and came, and came. At some point, she thought to get up and go to her bedroom, but she only managed to lie on her back on the floor of her home office before spreading her legs wide and plunging in again. By the time she looked at the time again, it was 1:45. Fuck. She'd spent almost three hours diddling herself on the ground. She'd be up half the night, or she wouldn't finish her work.

As soon as she stopped shaking, she dialed Kell.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Kell. This is Dorey from last night."

"Oh, hey Dorey. It's great to hear from you! "

"Yeah, Thanks. So, hey, has anyone had any trouble with Amica?"

"Uh, what sort of trouble?"

"Well, she's...." Dorey stopped. "She's very persistent."

"I see. And that's bad?"

"Yeah, it's bad. I don't mind a suggestion but, uh, it feels like she sort of doesn't know when to stop."

There was a pause.

"Could you tell me more?"

"Well... she's very perky, like a cheerleader I guess? And she's very, very persistent and kind of... single-minded."

"About what?"

"She always wants me to... uh, get my heart rate up. With cardio, you know?" Dorey said.

"Ah," Kell said. "So like someone to cheer you on to be your best?"

"I guess, but she almost made me miss a meeting today, and-"

"Dorey, are you holding the jewelry right now?"

"Why?" she asked, a little defensively, looking at the cord, wrapped in her finger.

"I think you're giving Amica mixed messages. You call on her for help, and then when she tries to help you, you tell her that she's not welcome."

She took a deep breath. "Are you saying that.... Kell, this is crazy. She's not real."

"If she's not real, what are you calling about?"

"So you think I should apologize to these nipple piercings and make them a home-cooked meal?"

"Actually," he said, in his nerd expounding on his obsession voice, "offerings of food can really help to-"

"Jesus, I was being sarcastic Kell!"

He sighed. "Look, Dorey, maybe she's not real in the same way you and I are, but she's real to me and she's clearly real to you. And she's there to help you, right? Try being clearer about when you want help, and following the advice you get from her."

"Thanks, Kell," she said, flatly. "That's great."

"Call me back to let me know when you've worked things out," he said.

"Right. Bye, Kell."

She rubbed her temples. "When you've worked things out," he'd said, like she had a new roommate hanging around her neck. This was getting silly. Nothing was really wrong, she told herself. She'd taken some unscheduled personal time that she'd deeply enjoyed, and then psyched herself up over nothing. She decided to clear her head with a hot shower, and then figure out her plans for the afternoon.

"We got off on the wrong foot, roomie," Dorey said, looking in the mirror. "I think I need to figure out what I want from you before we start." In fact, Dorey wasn't sure she needed any help at all. She didn't look bad. A little soft, but she liked soft, and so had her boyfriends -- especially her round ass. If she had a little more up top, and maybe a more consistent routine to keep her in shape, she'd be pretty happy about it.

Dorey knew she'd come far from the awkward late bloomer, who had watched all the girls around her develop curves while she stayed the gangly girl with the small pot belly. At the time She'd consoled herself that nature was just taking its time preparing for something spectacular. Her mother had been chesty and so had several aunts and cousins. Big boobs were practically a family birthright. She'd been deeply disappointed when her b-cups finally came in, knowing this was really it. But she'd worked on her self image, and accepted who she was. She didn't need help changing, because she didn't need to change.

She held the piercings up to her nipples, posing in the mirror. Still, Amica had seemed very real to her, and she could apparently turn Dorey's libido to overdrive. Why not see if the spirit -- or whatever she was -- could fill her out a little up top? She'd have to think about how to put it first. But what if she'd unwittingly given Amica instructions already? Amica seemed to view any passing thought as an invitation to comment, and yet she was supposed to follow Amica's advice.

She took the cord off and got in the shower. With the jewelry gone, she felt freer, no longer worried about the chipper, irritating little imp overhearing her thoughts. As she scrubbed her body, she wonder about Kell. She'd been so curious about Amica, that she'd never thought about the implications of a man carrying around a case of enchanted body piercings to hand out to strange women in a bar.

He must expect her to wear them at some point -- perhaps he even thought he could compel her to. The idea was frightening, but also strangely erotic. She'd never really considered piercing her nipples before. The piercings would look cute stuck to a stud and made into earrings, but as nipple jewelry, they seemed so big and attention-seeking. They really wouldn't work without big tits to draw attention to.

She pictured herself with round, fake tits. She'd be excited to show him how she'd gotten the perfect big tits to show off his big piercings. Maybe they'd go on a date, and she'd pull them out after dinner, chirping like Amica. Something about getting their heart rates pumping. Then she'd kneel in front of him, and....