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Manikin: Channeling Morpheus 3

Manikin: Channeling Morpheus 3

Manikin by Jordan Castillo Price

Series: Channeling Morpheus 3
Second Electronic Edition
Length: Novelette - 57 page PDF
Cover artist: Jordan Castillo Price - see larger cover
ISBN: 978-1-935540-27-4

Find Manikin at the following places:

Amazon - Smashwords (many file types) - iTunes


Marushka loves pretty things: lace and velvet, porcelain and pearls. She sews elaborate costumes for all of her dolls, and she spends hours arranging their hair just so. Her collection is growing; she’s added a very pretty trinket, and his name is Michael. She can’t wait to dress him up.

Michael always suspected mentally ill vampires grew worse and worse as the years went by. He’d never realized how unhinged they could get.

Now Michael is in way over his head. Will Wild Bill save him? Or was it only wishful thinking on Michael’s part that their connection ran deeper than sex… or blood?

First edition was published as Channeling Morpheus: Manikin in 2008. Appears in the print collection Channeling Morpheus for Scary Mary.



The straight razor slid along the tops of the toes on my right foot. “Shoosh, shoosh, darlink. If you tremble, I might nick you. We mustn’t ruin your skin.”

I rolled my eyes down in my head, which I couldn’t move even a fragment of an inch, and told myself not to freak out. The vampire would keel over any minute. I’d slipped her three tablets of Rohypnol, and I knew from experience that three was more than enough.

Part of her, the edge of her hair, was visible in the dim streetlight that threaded through a window high in the bathroom wall. Her hair was flame red, in long, smooth curls like Shirley Temple. It was so dim in the bathroom that the red looked brown, or even black.

I swallowed. The metal apparatus that she’d clamped around my head and neck put so much pressure on my Adam’s apple, even that small motion was painful.

The razor slid up my calf. The steel was cold. The tub was cold, the water was cold, too—and I couldn’t stop shivering. “Marushka? Can we take a break? I’m freezing.” If she let me warm up for a second, I’d probably still be shaking from the realization that the Rohypnol was taking its sweet time in knocking her out. But I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.

“I know.” Her voice oozed sympathy, and she was probably even sincere. “But this is better for your pores. Once the gooseflesh smoothes out, your body will be like silk.” She wielded the razor around the curve of my knee with such delicacy that it was only the merest whisper of cold metal.

I ached to shove her away—she hadn’t strapped down my arms, even though the ancient leather restraints were in plain view, because I’d managed to convince her that I was just as crazy as she was. That I was into it. Whatever it was she was doing.

It wouldn’t have mattered if my hands were free or not. She was so much stronger than me that I’d never be able to fend her off, even if she didn’t have a length of freshly-honed steel in her tiny white hand.

I gritted my teeth, and I waited for the Rohypnol to do its job.

The razor skimmed my thigh. Now both my legs were completely hairless. “Such lovely skin. Your hair—why do you dye it black? What color was it before?”

“Just brown.”

“Yes, brown. Brown is better. I will make you a fine wig, long, with curls. Brown. It will suit you. What color are your eyes?”

I’d thought she could see in the near-dark. Maybe not in full color. I filed that thought away with everything else I knew about vampires which, at the moment, didn’t seem nearly enough. “Grayish.”

She snorted. “I will give you a pair of emerald green eyes that you will adore.”

I’d seen Marushka’s bell-jar collection of eyes—glass, dozens of them, staring every which way—when she’d led me through the old fabric store and the apartment above. They were tucked behind the dress forms and sheet-draped furniture, and the bolts of dusty fabric, the shelves of patterns and rickrack. I was fairly confident that I liked my own eyes much, much better. But I wasn’t about to contradict her—she had my balls in her hand. Her fingers were as cold as the razor.

“Open your legs.”

I wasn’t sure if I could, but in the spirit of going along with her vision of me, transformed and perfect, I did my best to oblige. I forced my knees against the walls of the cold porcelain tub, and I told myself she wasn’t interested in my ass. The other vampires I’d taken up with? Sure. But not Marushka. She was in her very own league.

The blade swept along the crease of my thigh and I had to force myself not to slam my legs shut. There were ankle restraints within reach of the tub, too.

“Shoosh, Michael. My hand is steady.”

No kidding. At the rate she was going, I’d be slippery smooth all over in about ten minutes. “Will I get to keep my own clothes?”

She stroked away the fine hairs behind my balls and flicked them into the five inches of frigid water with a practiced snap of her wrist. “Of course not. Your clothing is filthy. I will dress you in something fine.”

I reminded myself to act fascinated. “Like what?”

Marushka sat back on her heels and planted her elbows on the rim of the bath. If I rolled my eyes down and to the side, I could see her, barely. Her carefully painted face looked like a kewpie doll mask.

“It would be a shame to cover you up too much. Perhaps a silk shirt, open at the front. And a vest of embroidered velvet.” She reached into the tub, grabbed on to a single chest hair, and yanked. I flinched. “Too bad I didn’t meet you before you grew all this…fur.”

“’Sokay. My teeth looked like they were too big for my face until I was eighteen, at least.”

She plucked another chest hair and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger, directly in front of her face. Her eyes crossed slightly. I noticed that her eyebrows weren’t actually eyebrows at all, just a pair of thin, curved lines she’d drawn on—perpetually surprised.

“So, uh, tell me about the vest. What color is it?”

“I don’t have it yet. I must make it. Especially for you.”

Unfortunately, my question about the vest seemed to galvanize her back into action, which was the opposite of what I’d been hoping for. She cupped her frigid hand over my cock and swept the razor over my pubic hair. For the first time that night, I wondered whether I really did want the drugs I’d slipped her to take effect. I might survive the vampire encounter, but find myself a eunuch in the process.

“Black.” My teeth chattered as I spoke. “The shirt, too.”

“Black, black, always black.” Marushka gestured like she was sending back an overcooked steak at Ponderosa. “You have no vision.”

I certainly wouldn’t, if I took her up on the offer of those green glass eyes she had in mind. “Okay, what color then? Tell me.”

There was a flick, and a splash, and when she took her hand from me, the cold air felt even sharper against my naked groin. “Purple. Very dark. Like the skin of grape.” She pressed her chin into her forearm and leaned heavily into the tub. “And embroidered in…in gold, with….”

The straight razor splashed into the tub. Marushka slumped to the floor. “Michael?” Her voice sounded very innocent and small.

I almost felt bad for her. I groped my hands up the side of the metal brace and felt for the latch. I couldn’t imagine what the thing must have been, originally. Something a dentist might use while he was boring through a patient’s molars with a hand drill? Maybe a piece of medical equipment that heralded the dawn of brain surgery. I shuddered.

I found some screws and springs and knobs. I wished I’d gotten a better look when Marushka had lowered me down, placed a kiss on my forehead, and snapped the cold metal around my neck.

Water sloshed against the side of the bath as I pushed at the tub wall with my bare foot and tried to extend my reach. She’d even shaved my toes. It had never occurred to me that there was hair on my toes.

I stretched, and I felt something that protruded a good inch out of the mess of metal. A key. It was tightly seated. From my which-way’s-up position, I couldn’t tell clockwise from counterclockwise. My fingers were numb on the key and I couldn’t stop shaking.

Concentrate, I told myself. Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey. A couple of turns and I’d be out of there. I grabbed the key, and I twisted it.

It fell out of the brace and clattered to the floor.




Channeling Morpheus Ebook Novelettes


Channeling Morpheus Shorts
Heaven Sent - takes place after Manikin
Jackpot - takes place after Elixir
Canine - takes place after Elixir

Channeling Morpheus Paperbacks

Channeling Morpheus for Scary Mary (Channeling Morpheus Series 1) featuring novelettes 1-5
A Bitter Taste of Sweet Oblivion (Channeling Morpheus Series 2) featuring novelettes 6-10

Channeling Morpheus for Scary Mary Paperback A Bitter Taste of Sweet Oblivion Paperback

NEW Channeling Morpheus Box Sets

Channeling Morpheus for Scary Mary Ebook Box Set

Series: Channeling Morpheus 1-5
Combined Length: Novel - 71,000 words
Cover artist: Jordan Castillo Price - see larger cover
ISBN: 978-1-935540-74-8


 Amazon - Amazon UK - BN - iTunes - Smashwords - Kobo


A Bitter Taste of Sweet Oblivion Ebook Box Set
Series: Channeling Morpheus6-10
Combined Length: 101,000 words
Cover Artist: Jordan Castillo Price
ISBN: 978-1-935540- 75-5


Purchase at: Amazon, Amazon UK, iTunes, Kobo

Brand new Channeling Morpheus short


Canine: Channeling Morpheus Short
Series: Channeling Morpheus 10.2
Length: 9000 words
Cover Artist: Jordan Castillo Price
ISBN: 978-1-935540-76-2


Purchase at:, Amazon UK, Kobo, iTunes, BN

Channeling Morpheus for Scary Mary Audio

Read by Gomez Pugh

Available now at iTunes - Audible - Amazon


Channeling Morpheus: Manikin is a read that takes us into Michael’s mind and also gives an eye-opening view into Michael’s stuttering relationship with Wild Bill and how he thinks of vampires in general.  This time Michael is revolted by what he does, yet believes that he is on a mission that must be completed – but how does Wild Bill fit into it, being a vampire himself. - Joyfully Reviewed

This was the spookiest story in the series so far and I found Marushka to be creepy and unhinged and like most of us who are mad (as in crazy), she sounds perfectly normal and reasonable as she tells Michael that he will become part of her collection of humans, except he will be dead, but she will dress him up and paint him in pretty colours. - Reviews by Jessewave


A sweet, sad story of hope

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