Vleight on Gromet's Plaza Archive

The Sex Dolly Factory

Wed, 06 Mar 2019 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory 5)

Part 6: Karma

Ten years ago… All businesses have their ebbs and flows. One day you’re selling things like there’s no tomorrow, then, suddenly, tomorrow comes and you don’t sell a thing. Any one who tells you that a business can be predicted to run a profitable way is either trying to make you buy from them or is a paid consultant. No business can constantly preform at a top, profitable level for an infinite amount of time because time is the enemy. Times change, fads change, demand changes, and many businesses are left in the dust of history. The ability to change with the times isn’t the answer. The answer is to make the times change in your favor. Abigail Gillen is one of the most capable businesswomen around, but even she couldn’t save the local family owned toy factory from going under. She was hired as a turnaround expert after she saved an auto parts chain from drowning in debt, and started to make it into one of the largest retail chains in the country. She was unceremoniously released from her contract and replaced by her male assistant, and soon to be ex-husband, right before the big expansion simply because she was a woman and he felt he deseved the job. When a few compromising private photos of her were leaked to the board by her husband, who, incidently, took them himself, she was let go without any mention of a severance package. He replaced her at the helm, and she took everything from him in the subsuquent divorce. The first job she took after the divorce was with ‘Funnystuff Toys,’ a small toy manufacturer in the midwest United States. The owner, Phil Owens, was a shareholder with the auto parts chain she worked at before, so he was acutely aware of what she did for them, despite what her ex had done to her. He gave Abigail free reign in her contract to do whatever she wanted if she could turn the factory around. Also included were several thousand shares of stock as an added incentive to do good. Abigail wasted no time when she got to town, immediately going to the factory from the airport, wanting to see what she had got herself into. The factory was in a fairly large undescript building in the back of an industrial complex. This factory was built over 20 years ago, replacing the old factory that stood for almost 100 years across town. It became more cost effective to build a new factory than completing necessary upgrades and vital repairs on the old building. The building looked like a big concrete box with only two glass doors showing the way in. To the right was a fifteen car parking lot for management and visitors separated from the general employees parking lot by a road leading back behind the building. There were no discernable windows that she could see, but there were a few large ventilation pumps on the roof. She pulled her car into the first vacant spot in the smaller parking lot and the first thing she noticed when she got out of her car was the lack of any noise. You’d figure a factory would have some machines grinding away and echoing around the building, but there wasn’t a sound. A few birds singing and a light breeze flowing through some bushes by the road let her know that she hadn’t lost her hearing. Abigail opened the trunk on her stupid rented car and picked up her briefcase. (She couldn’t wait until the delivery service showed up with her Mercedes!) She closed the trunk and headed for the front doors without hesitation. It was almost 3 PM local time, and she wanted to see firsthand how the factory was being run before everyone left for the day. When she walked through the doors, she couldn’t believe what she saw. The doors opened into what looked like a large toy store, with the entire center of the room filled with boxed toys stacked like it was Santa’s workshop. There was no front desk to greet visitors or vendors. Instead, the exterior walls were lined with desks, and each desk had a person at it feverishly talking on their phones to someone. There weren’t any partitions between the desks, so everyone’s conversations congealed into one continuous squeal. Abigail walked around, oblivious to everyone else there, and tried to listen to what each person was doing. Of the seventeen people there, it sounded as if only three were making calls related to work. “Hey, you!” Abigail heard someone yell from behind her. She turned around to see a tall, well built man with dark brown hair standing at a desk against the wall pointing at her. Once he got her attention, she started walking towards her. “Is there something I can do for you?” he asked when he got close enough to her. Abigail wasn’t a short woman by no means, but the man was still about six inches taller than her, and about ten years younger. He had broad shoulders and a thin waist, with the build of a linebacker. “I’m Abigail Gillen,” Abigail said as she reached out her hand to the man, “I’m here to see Phil Owens. I wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow, but I wanted to get a jump on things if I’m going to help this company.” The man almost stood at attention once she said her name. He took her hand gently and gave it a comforting shake. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Gillen,” the man replied, “I’m sorry for the gruff attitude there. I’m Eric Biggs, sales agent. I just left a long stint the Army, and I’m still not used to civilian life. I’m used to giving orders, not taking them. I’m also used to being protective of my surroundings. I tend to question the appearance of new people wandering around here.” He gave Abigail a warm smile as he released her hand. The cute smile from the man candy warmed Abigail’s heart, among other things, and she gave a blushing smile back. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” she replied, “At least someone here noticed the change in the scenery. Is Phil here?” “No, he isn’t.” Eric said with some dismay, “He had to do some running around, getting things ready for you tomorrow. Is there anything I can do for you instead?” “Well, I was hoping to take a tour of the place and see what I have to work with. I also wanted to take a look over the corporate financials, give me something to do tonight over dinner. I guess it will have to wait.” “Not necessarily,” Eric replied with a smile, “Mr. Owens keeps all of that info in his office. I have the key to let you in. He told us that you are allowed to do whatever you need to get this place running again, so I can’t see any harm with opening a door.” “And you have a key to his office because…?” Abigail asked suspiciously. “Oh!” Eric chuckled, “In the Army, I worked in intelligence and security. My first week here was updating their security system and alarms. I have the keys to almost everything here. During the day, I sell toys. At night, I fight crime!” Both Abigail and Eric laughed. No one else in the room laughed; no one else knew that there were two people having a conversation in the middle of the floor. “May I suggest you do the office thing first? It might be better if you take the tour with Mr. Owens tomorrow, in case you have any questions.” “Good idea, Eric,” Abigail replied, “May I call you Eric?” “Sure, Abigail, as long as you don’t mind. This way, please.” Eric directed Abigail towards an open hallway on the right side of the room. As they walked towards it, Abigail was finally hearing sounds of machinery moving. Eric led the way down the hall to a door on the left. A set of double doors were at the end of the hallway, the same direction the machine noises were coming from. Stopping at the single door, Eric unlocked it. Eric opened it wide so Abigail could enter alone. This room was a rather large and opulent office, complete with a small bar, refrigerator, sink, oak table with eight chairs, large oak desk, and several expensive figurines and paintings all over the shelves and walls. There were three filing cabinets against the wall behind the desk. On the desk was the only computer she had seen so far in the place. To the right was what looked like a full bathroom. After Abigail fully entered the room, Eric pulled it closed behind her. “I’ll be at my desk if you need anything,” he said before shutting the door. Abigail walked over to the desk and put her briefcase on the floor to one side. She sat down to a stack of disarrayed scattered across its top. She skimmed over each paper as she arranged them, and she already was getting a bad picture of everything. Most of the papers were overdue bills and past date invoices. Others were from law offices, requesting information about one thing or another. One was a safety warning from the Better Business Bureau, requesting an immediate recall on one of the company’s toys. All of this information was distressing enough, but she was more upset with what she didn’t see: There was no papers showing any form of income or employee wages. She turned around and started opening the file cabinets. All of the drawers were half empty. The only files she was able to find were about how much money the company owed and to whom. There were no files on any of the company’s sales at all. No files on the company’s federal, state, or local taxes. She did find the files on all of the current employees, however all of the pages pertaining to their salaries was missing. Also missing was any information of a pension plan or unemployment taxes. Abigail slammed the last drawer of the filing cabinet she looked into in anger. She had been in business for a long time, and she knew what was going on. Phil Owens was stealing from his own company, and he took all of the files on the company’s income and employee salaries to doctor them before Abigail could see them. He brought her in to either try to save the place, make it look like a sound idea to close up, or, worse yet, use her as a scapegoat to hide his embezzling. Without the missing paperwork, she couldn’t figure out exactly what he had planned, but no matter what, it didn’t look good for her. She was wracking her brain on what to do, but then she saw the computer. Since it was the only computer in the place, she figured he would have all of his sensitive information stored there. She sat back down at the desk and turned it on. It was an older one, only 156 gigabyte with a 750k processor, and it took a little time to boot up. While it did that, she started looking through the desk for either computer disks or any other information about the businesses income. She found a few, but their labels didn’t point to financial information. One of the drawers was locked. She thought about breaking it open, but when she saw the request for a passcode as the first image on the computer screen, she had a better idea. She went and fetched Eric. “Eric, can I see you for a minute?” Abigail asked as she poked her head out of the hallway, “I need your help back here.” Eric looked up from his phone and motioned his hand to her, signaling the give him a moment, then he went back to his phone call. “Jim, can I call you back?” he said into the phone, “I have another fire to put out…. Yeah…Yeah… Tomorrow, about ten…Thanks… Give my love to Sue and the kids.” He hung up the phone and joined Abigail in the hallway. “How can I help?” he asked. Abigail quickly but quietly took him by the arm and almost dragged him back to Phil’s office. Eric put up little resistance, although he did have a confused look on his face. She turned around and pushed him into the office, then looked down both ways in the hall to see if anyone was looking, then entered the office as well. She quickly closed the door and locked it. “Did you put any security cameras in the hallway or this office?” Abigail asked in a stern voice, “Any microphones or silent alarms on any of the drawers in here?” “What? Well, no,” Eric stammered, “What’s this all about?” “How about this: Did Mr. Owens carry out any boxes from this office yesterday or today?” Eric didn’t even have to think about this. “He had some of the guys from the dock carry out about twelve boxes from in here and put them into a truck earlier today,” he replied, even more confused than a few minutes ago, “He said he was moving some of his art collection back home.” “Take a look around this room,” Abigail ordered, “Tell me what is missing that was here yesterday evening.” Still confused, Eric did what he was told. After about a minute, the confused look disappeared and was replaced with enlightenenment. “He didn’t take anything from here,” he said, “He took something else. He was hiding something. From you. He removed files of some kind. He’s stealing, isn’t he?” “Gold star, Eric,” Abigail enthusiastically said as she pulled him to behind the desk, “I have to know what files he took, and they might be on this computer. Also, one of the desk drawers are locked. Do you think you can help me with both of these?” “With pleasure,” he replied as he stooped down to the locked drawer. It was mere seconds and he had the drawer open. “Wow, I’m impressed,” Abigail said, “I’m surprised you didn’t go into the CIA instead of working here.” “They tried recruiting me,” Eric replied as he sat down in front of the computer, “But I was tired of traveling the world, fighting ‘The Good Fight.’ Besides, some of the CIA’s clandestine operations weren’t too appealing to me, so I figured it was best to just walk away. Give me a minute and I’ll have this silicone cracked in two.” He started typing furiously on the computer’s keyboard as Abigail started looking through the now opened drawer. What she found sickened her to her core. She pulled out three bank statements, all drawn on different banks. One was the business account, which barely had enough money in it to cover an ice cream truck’s weekly expenses. The next one was Phil Owens personal account, which had almost thirty million dollars deposited. The third was Abigail Gillen, with fifteen million dollars deposited. There was also a receipt from a bank that held the employees pension, showing that the account was closed and that a cashier’s check for thirty-five million was made payable to Abigail Gillen, CFO of ‘Funnystuff Toys, Inc.’ She now knew that she was going to be the scapegoat. “I was afraid of this,” Abigail said out loud, not realising it. “What?” Eric asked as he was still typing. He leaned over to her to see what made her make that remark. “What did you find?” “Here,” she replied, holding out the bank statements and the receipt, “Take a look.” He stopped typing and studied the documents. “That’s one hell of a signing bonus,” he commented as he glanced them over. “I just got into town this afternoon,” Abigail replied as she stood up, “All of these bank accounts were set up three days ago, and those are not my signatures. I’m being set up to take the fall, while he skips away to an extradition-free country.” Eric went back to his typing, and, suddenly, he stopped when the computer made an audible ‘Boop.’ “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Eric coldly replied as the screen started filling up with various files and internet shortcuts. He rose from the chair so Abigail could sit down. Breaking into locked things was his forte, but he had a feeling that computer programs was her arena. And he was right. Within five minutes, she had found all of the information she needed, and she was pissed about everything she read. “Wow,” She gasped, “He’s been embezzling for decades. Only one third of the net sales went back into the business. Everything else went to an offshore account. He has almost eighty million dollars sitting in Panama, and a pending transaction for the funds from this account.” She waved the bank statement in his name over her head. “My God,” Eric whispered angrily, “We have to stop him. What can we do?” “Technically nothing but go to the police,” Abigail replied as she sat and thought for a few moments, “But I hate technicalities. Give me a few minutes.” She started typing feverishly herself, like a woman possessed. Eric tried watching the monitor as she zipped from one screen to another over her shoulder, but soon got dizzy. He had to take a step back and regain his senses. This was the second time in little over a year that a man was trying to screw her over, and, this time, she was going to fight back hard. She wasn’t about to be abused in a business setting again, and Phil Owens was going to feel the brunt of her anger. “There, that will fix him,” Abigail exclaimed after her thirty minute typing marathon. She sat back in the chair and crossed her arms triumphantly. “What did you do?” Eric asked as he leaned back over to look at the screen. All he saw was a Panamanian bank main menu screen. “I took all of the money he hid in Panama, all the money he had in the business account, and all of the money he had in this personal account and hid it somewhere safe. Just for fun, I also tracked down any other bank accounts he or his immediate family had and emptied them as well. Then I deleted all of the accounts at their banks. Right now, there is $120 million hidden in various banks around the world, and I’m the only one who knows where.” “Awesome!” Eric cheered as he gave Abigail a congratulatory slap on the back, “Now, to get rid of the evidence here. Here’s my lighter. Take this bank information into the bathroom and burn it. I’ll erase the computer’s hard drive. I have a friend who can follow up on erasing the internet traffic coming and going to this computer for the last seven days, just to be safe. Now, not trying to sound self concerned, but what about the employees and payday? Will they still have a job?” “Most likely not,” Abigail said as she walked to the bathroom with the papers, “But I’ll make sure that they’ll still get paid, reinstate their pensions, and give them a terriffic severance package. Just by seeing the accounts payable I know that this business is dead.” She lit the papers on fire and dropped them into the bathroom sink. She looked in the cabinet under the sink for a towel to clean up the ashes, but instead she found a pile of skin colored latex rubber. Thinking that it was an odd colored raincoat, she pulled it out, wondering who stuffed it down there. It seemed like it was a long overcoat from the amount of pulling she did. It wasn’t until she grabbed a handful of blonde wig that she realized it wasn’t a raincoat at all. “Eeek!” Abigail squealed in revulsion. Eric ran to the bathroom, thinking she had burned herself. He hurriedly looked into the bathroom and saw Abigail standing over a woman’s skin, sprawled out on the bathroom floor. He was speechless, so was Abigail, and he knelt down to take a better look and possibly identify the victim. He took hold of the pile’s ankle, gave it a squeeze, then laughed. “What’s so funny?” she asked angrily. “This is one of those blow up sex dolls!” he laughed, throwing the piece of latexback to the floor. “A what?” “An inflatable girl sex doll. You know, for when a loser is horny but can’t get a date? They buy one of these, blow them up, and have sex with the three holes in it. They come in all styles, sizes, races, and skin tones. I think they’re disgusting, but they’re a very big business. High quality dolls run into the five thousand dollar range.” “Really?” Abigail wondered aloud. She figured this might require some research, but if this perversion is big business, then why don’t she get into it? She has always worked for other people and almost every time it didn’t work out. Thanks to this Phil Owens jerk, she now had some serious starting capital and enough leverage to force him to sign over his factory for a bargain price. She couldn’t retain all of the employees, and she really thought that she shouldn’t considering their preformance when she first walked in, but she could go through what remained in their files to pick out the possible ‘Diamonds in the rough.’ There is one thing she had to do before she did anything else. “Eric, come tomorrow, no one here will have a job. You’ve helped me out here and gave me a lead on a possibly lucriative business opportunity. How would you like to work for me as the head of my security department? You will not have to answer to anyone but me, and I can guarantee your salary will be at least three times as high as it is right now, possibly more. Interested?” ********************************* This year, Saturday afternoon… Becky and her love dolly Keisha were driving over to Abigail’s house for dinner and to watch their online auctions end. Two weeks ago, Abigail put up some of the grade 2 sex dolls that were not selling, just to move the older stock out. She also listed Charlene, the hermaphrodite doll that she and Becky made from the one thief that they had caught almost a month ago. She originally thought about keeping it, but the novelty wore off quickly, and she wanted to see how much a doll like that would sell for. If it sells well enough, they would definitely make more. They arrived at Abigail’s just after 3 PM. Becky pulled up to the garage, intending to pull her car inside. It was still daylight, and she didn’t want any of her friend’s neighbors seeing the latex shine of her lover. It may cause some ‘issues’ with the neighborhood block commission. She honked her horn when she pulled up to the garage door, and, after a minute or so, the garage door rolled up. She pulled her car inside and parked next to her friend’s Mercedes. The garage door was already lowering when the two of them climbed out of her car. “Can you get the wine, please?” Becky asked Keisha as she pushed the button to release the trunk, “I’ll get the paperwork.” Without waiting for a reply, she walked back and opened the trunk. Inside, there was a ratty atashay case. “Yes, massuh, I’se live to serve,” Keisha sarcastically remarked. It has been transformed into an automotronic plastic doll for four weeks now, but it still resents the fact that it has to do everything Becky says, albeit she asks politely. It reached into the back seat to retrieve the bottle. Getting out of the car and now standing, it turned to see Becky looking at it frustrated. “Please, baby, stop acting like that,” Becky half begged as she removed the atashay case and closed the trunk, “You’re not my black slave maid. It’s starting to offend me when you talk like that. Besides dressing you in that maid costume the first time, have I honestly made you do something you didn’t want to do?” “Oh, let’s see,” Keisha replied, mockingly putting it’s finger to it’s chin and looking skyward, “Making me suck off one of my closest friends, and now making me sit while you sell him off in front of me?” “You didn’t suck him off,” Becky said as she came around the car to hug her dolly, “I stopped you before those luscious lips even got close to his dick. As for selling him off, well, you didn’t complain when we sold off your Asian friend, right?” “I hated Chang anyway. I was getting ready to put two bullets into his skull right before your knockout gas hit us. Good riddance to him, but me and Charlie, we’ve been through a lot. He was the closest thing I had to a best friend.” “He wasn’t a friend,” Becky whispered into Keisha’s ear, “He wouldn’t have got you into trouble if he was. Besides, you got me now. I’m going to be the bestest friend you’ve ever had. C’mon. Abigail’s waiting.” She gave her dolly lover a warm, passionate kiss on the cheek, then led her by the hand towards the house. Abigail met them as Becky opened the door into the kitchen. “It’s about time!” Abigail exclaimed when she saw them, “I thought the garage door got stuck or something.” “Nah, we just had a little discussion,” Becky replied as she put her atashay case on the cabinet inside the door. Keisha walked around her and handed the bottle of wine to Abigail. “Yeah. We were talking about how slaves have to be sold,” It said callously. “KEISHA!!!” Becky shouted in an embarrassed voice. Keisha turned and instead of seeing frustration in Becky’s eyes, this time her eyes were staring daggers. “Calm down, you two,” Abigail said calmly as she walked between the two of them. This argument was going on too long, and she had to do something civil before Becky did something she would regret. “Becky, are those the results of the AAD-623 test?” Becky was obviously seething, but she did comport herself before answering. “Yes, they are,” she replied while gritting her teeth, still staring at her attitude spewing dolly. “Please take them into the living room and prepare to give me a status on the results,” Abigail said in a soothing tone, trying not to talk down to her friend, as she put her arm around her shoulder and herded her toward the hallway leading to living room, “I need to talk with Keisha for a minute.” Becky picked up the atashay and angrily walked down the hall. Once she was out of earshot, Abigail turned to the latex animotronic. “I’ve been friends with her for a very long time,” Abigail began as she looked Keisha in the eyes, “And this is the first time I’ve ever seen her truly care for someone. She is in love with you.” Keisha crossed its arms in a defensive stance and tried to stare the taller woman down. “Oh, yeah?” Keisha replied in a demanding voice, “How can you tell? I’m the only one she’s ever forced a sex change on? Or turned into an appliance? Or electronically made to do her every whim, like a plantation slave? If she was really in love with me, she would be sucking my cock right now, instead of making me into a life-sized black Barbie doll!” “Yes, you have been forced into this change,” Abigail continued, “But you did break into our factory and you have seen too much. We couldn’t send you or your compatriots to jail and have the police look into our business. This is a just punishment for all three of you, as we see it. However, she is a lesbian. She didn’t become attracted to you until you were made into a female. She fell in lust with you, and had to have you. She wouldn’t be satisfied with having you as a normal sex dolly like the others, so she used her genius to make you as you are now: A walking dolly with full body motion and your own thoughts and opinions. She could’ve easily wiped away all of your free will and made you a virtual bimbo, but she didn’t. She wanted someone to love, and she hoped that that someone would love her back.” “Yeah, right,” Keisha argued, “She treats me like a doll. She buys me what she wants me to wear, makes me help her clean her house, makes me help around your factory, and most of the time tells me what to do in bed. When she goes out, she always takes me with her. I barely have any time to myself! Is that what love is supposed to be?!?” “Well, in a sense, yes.” “Okay, I’m confused,” Keisha said while shaking it’s head while taking a seat on a kitchen chair, “Explain this to me.” “Simple,” Abigail explained as she pulled another kitchen chair next to Keisha, “She buys you clothes that she likes because you probably never told you what you like. I heard you complain about the clothes you did wear before, but I never heard you ask for anything specific to wear, have I? She can’t get you what you want if you will not share the information with her. “House chores are something that every member in the family share doing. You most likely are thinking like a man, but the dirty dishes aren’t cleaned by elves who sneak into the house at night. Clean floors require a wet mop or a vaccuum on occasion. Clothing should only be worn one time in a week then be washed, not worn until they stand up by themselves. I can almost guarantee that she asks you to do chores, and doesn’t order you to do them. “She takes you with her everywhere she goes because she wants to spend time with you. Since most of her time is at the factory, that is where she takes you. She asks you to help while you’re there is for two reasons. One, she doesn’t want you to be bored. Two, she likes talking with you. She wants to get to know you, and the fastest way to form a friendship is by chatting with a co-worker. “As for your bedroom antics, have you tried taking control yet? I’m not saying you should tie her down to the bed and get out the candle wax or anything, but I am saying that you should try seducing her instead of waiting for her to tell you what to do. I’m not sure if this is a racial stereotype, and I apologize in advance if you feel like it is, but aren’t black men usually looking for white women to take control over and screw their brains out?” Throughout all of Abigail’s speech, Keisha sat there like a petulent child that was forced to listen to a Preacher’s lecture on evil. However, the last sentence she spoke caused the dolly to erupt with laughter. Abigail reacted with a smile of her own. “Okay,” Keisha giggled, “I’ll give you that one.” Abigail slid forward on her seat to put her hands on both of Keisha’s shoulders, making sure to have the doll’s attention. “Now I don’t expect you to fall head over heels with her the next time your eyes meet,” Abigail said with a soothing voice, “I would just like for you to give her a chance. She really is a sweet, loving girl. Talk to her as if she was your friend, not as if she was the warden of a jail. You might find out that you like her too.” “What about when she orders me to do something?” “I’ve only seen her order you to do two things over the past month, and one of those things she stopped you before you even started.” “Twice?” Keisha asked, “I only remember the blowjob. What was the other time?” “Shortly after that. You were so shaken up about the ‘almost’ oral sex you were being ordered to do, she ordered you to fall asleep to calm you down.” Keisha just sat there silenly, with a perplexed look on it’s face. “I don’t remember that,” Keisha responded, as it racked it’s brain for the memory, “She really did that?” “Yes, she did,” Abigail replied, “See? She cared for you back then, and she cares even more for you now. Do you think you can give her some slack for a little bit?” “Uh…Yeah…I guess so,” Keisha replied in a somber yet thoughtful tone. Abigail smiled widely then gave it a warm hug. “Thank you,” She whispered into the doll’s ear, “Let’s get into the living room before the little maniac sets something on fire.” Keisha giggled, then both made their way to the living room. Upon arriving, they saw Becky sitting on the sofa behind Abigail’s laptop with an incredibly stunned look on her face. She was staring at the screen wide eyed and mouth opened. She was gripping the screen tight enough to squeeze milk from a coconut. “Becky, what’s wrong?” Abigail asked when she noticed the shocked look on her friends face, and rushed over to her side. Keisha, surprisingly, also hurried to her with concern, and sat down on Becky’s right side. As Abigail sat down next to her, Becky turned towards her slowly as she handed her the laptop. Abigail, with a puzzled look on her face, wrestled the laptop from Becky’s death grip. She settled it onto the coffee table and opened the hinge wider so she could see the screen better. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the soft colors emanating from the screen, but, once she did, she too was shocked at what was showing. It was the online auction they listed their surplus dolls and the Charlene doll on. The other dolls sold at what they were expected to, but the Charlene, the sexy talking female doll with the built-in penis, sold for $900,000. “We gotta make more hermaphrodites,” Becky calmly whispered.

The Sex Dolly Factory

Wed, 06 Mar 2019 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory 4)

Part 5: Punishment

Becky and her new automatronic sex dolly Keisha were cleaning up her lab from the incident that happened last Friday night, as well as Abigail’s weekend tryst with the new hermaphrodite sex dolly. She couldn’t believe that prim and proper Abigail would spend two whole days locked in a room boffing a sex toy. She had a hard time wrapping her head around the thought that Abigail even went to the bathroom on a regular basis! The boss must’ve really liked what she had seen, considering that the Becky’s small nap bed was completely desheveled and smelled of female sex. And the sex dolly smelled like dead fish. Becky had Keisha carry the dolly, Charlene, over to the showers at the other end of the lab and clean it up. Keisha vehemently objected at first, but, now being only a self-aware automated latex dolly that had to obey it’s owner’s orders, begrudgingly set about the task. Keisha picked up Charlene by it’s left arm and, while holding it out at arm’s length, carried it over to the showers. Becky, meanwhile set about to change the sheets. She thought that she should wait for Abigail to come back and make her do this. Really. This is Abigail’s mess, and she should take some responsibility. “Mistress?” Charlene asked as she was carried to the showers, “Can my cock cum now? It’s so hard it hurts… Please, let me cum.” “Charlie, knock it off!” Keisha yelled. Before last Friday, The sex dolly Keisha used to be Reggie Jefferson, and the sex dolly Charlene used to be his best friend, Charlie Hauptmann. The two of them, and a third person, broke in last Friday night in hopes of finding a lot of money in the lab. All they were their own fates as sex toys. Reggie, now responding to Keisha, got the best deal of the three of them. It still retained it’s former memories of when it was human. “Stop talking like that, man! I’m not your mistress!” Keisha dropped Charlene onto the shower’s floor with a thud. It was obviously disgusted with it’s task, thinking that it had to bathe another man, particularly one with an enormous erection. “This sucks,” Keisha exclaimed as it took a step back. It turned to it’s owner and asked the most poignant question of our times, “Do I use soap to clean this freak?” “Well, duh,” Becky replied, still making the bed, “And clean all of it’s holes, too. There’s a wash rag on the bench behind you.” With a disgusted looking frown, Keisha set to work. The only clothes it had were the sexy french maid costume it had on, and it tried hard not to get any part of it wet. It washed Charlene all over in the same manner as an eight year old would if you asked the child to clean a toilet. Keisha gave a little groan as it started cleaning out Charlene’s lower two holes, finding some kind of lubricant in both of them. Charlene let out some sexy moans, as well as begging to be used again. Things really got strange when Keisha started cleaning Charlene’s penis. “Oh, yes, that feels soooo good,” Charlene cooed as Keisha ran the wash rag up and down Charlene’s penis. As it’s fingers, through the rag, felt the girth and pulsing of Charlene’s penis, Keisha slowed down and became fixated with the erect member. Charlene strted moaning louder, “Yesss, please make me cum!” “See something you like?” Becky asked. She had heard Charlene’s moaning and walked down behind Keisha to see what was going on. “I didn’t think that you were ready for dildoes, but I have a few strapons at home we can try.” Startled, Keisha snapped back to reality. “NO! NO WAY!!! NEVER!!!” Keisha replied as it threw the wash rag at the shower’s wall. “Methinks thou doth protest too much,” Becky chided with a Shakespearean quote, “C’mon, let’s get finished. I have a lot of work to do today, so the sooner I get it done, the sooner we can go buy you new clothes. Dry off the dolly and take it back upstairs to the factory. I didn’t lock the door, so just set it on the bench inside, then immediately come back down, and don’t molest it any further. Got it?” “Yes, ma’am.” *************** Abigail returned to the factory at 11 AM, before the regular employees arrived for their shifts. She went home to take a shower and put on clean clothes. She spent the weekend in Becky’s lab having marathon sex with the shemale sex dolly she asked her friend Becky to make, and it was the best decision she ever made. The dolly turned out perfectly! Now, she had a decision to make: keep it, or sell it for a huge profit. She decided that she needed more time with the dolly before making a decision, so she intended to have Eric bring it to her home later that evening. Right now, she had to make preparations to get rid of a sudden thorn in her side. Juanita Montanez has been working at thhe factory for over seven years, and she was a model employee. Always on time, always cheerful, and never said anything bad about anyone else. She seemed extremely loyal to the company, but she did divulge company secrets to an outsider, despite having signed a confidentially agreement. She didn’t give away company manufacturing techniques or information about their exclusive clientele, but she did make it possible for three losers to attempt a robbery. This was unforgivable, and firing her would only lead to further leaks of information. Disgruntled ex-employees will gladly spill their guts for money, as well as getting revenge on their former employers. This was a drastic situation, and it called for a drastic solution. Abigail had a plan in mind, but she needed Eric’s expertise to help pull it off. Making sex dollys or mannequins out of targeted women for wealthy patrons was one thing, but making one of her own employees disappear would draw too much unwanted attention from the autorities. This had to be worked out in minute detail, making it look like she left town on her own accord. There was no room for loose ends. She ‘guesstimated’ that her plan would take seven days to come into fruition, but allowed two days give or take as a leeway. Her target for completion was next Monday morning. She pulled into the parking lot and stopped in her regular parking space. Without hesitation she immediately went inside to her office. She closed the door behind her and locked it. She knew that Raul, the warehouse foreman, would be in soon for the shipping orders that came in over the weekend, so she had to work fast. She called her lawyer, Brian Vickers, to enlist his help. She knew that he would be on board, considering that she transformed his cheating wife into a sex dolly four years ago. To keep him on retainer, she waived the regular cost in making a grade 4 dolly and charged him only the cost of materials. After four rings, the phone was finally answered. “The law offices of Schneider, Vickers, Cohn, and Miller, how may I direct your call?” the voice of a young woman asked. “Brian Vickers, please,” Abigail asked politely, “Tell him it’s Abigail Gillen.” “I’m sorry, Ms. Gillen, but Mr. Vickers will be in court all day. Would you care to leave a message?” “Yes,” she replied, with a little agitation in her voice, “Please ask him to meet me at my house tonight around 8 PM, and have him bring a copy of the confidentiality agreement he drafted for me. I need to go over the specifics of it, and I may need to add a new clause or two.” She hated leaving messages for people, especially answering machines and voicemails. It’s one of her little pet peeves, but talking to Brian is a dire necessity right now for her plan to work. The secretary took the message, as well as Abigail’s other contact information, said a closing pleasantry, then hung up the phone. As soon as the handset hit the receiver, there was a knock at the door. It startled her, and she gave a little jump in her chair. She walked over and opened the door to see Raul standing there with a smile. “Buenos Dias, Boss!” Raul beamed, “And how are you on this lovely day?” “Oh, a bit frazzled, Raul,” Abigail replied, “I haven’t printed up the orders yet. Sorry. It was a wild weekend. I’ll send them directly to your printer in the warehouse in about ten minutes or so.” Raul’s smile quickly went away upon hearing this. “Did something happen?” He asked with some concern in his voice. He really liked working for Abigail, and he treats all of the employees like family. He honestly cares when something goes wrong in their lives. “We had an attempted break in Friday night. Nothing was taken, but whomever did it left a big mess on the second floor. Dr. Evers should be finishing up the cleaning by now.” “Dios mio! Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve been here in like two minutes! What did the police have to say? Are there any leads?” “We didn’t call the police,” Abigail said as she returned to her desk and start up her computer, “Nothing was taken, and nothing expensive was damaged, so we figured calling the police would be a waste of time, and all it would accomplish would be a raise in our insurance premiums. Mr. Biggs has found how they got in and is in the process of fixing that gap, as well as updating our whole security system. You’ll have to think up a new code for the alarm panel as soon as it’s installed. Now, if you don’t have any more questions, and I’m not trying to be rude here, but we both have a lot of work to do. It appears that we have almost 300 orders to go out today, with twelve grade twos going to one address in Alabama. Three grade 3 dollys also have to be shipped out. It’s going to be a long day for both of us.” “There’s also a large shipment coming in,” Raul added, “I schedeuled it for 2 o’clock. I’ll have six people set aside to unload it rapido so it won’t interfere with the outgoing stock. Oh, and there’s more ‘Paula’ dolls in this shipment, so we won’t run out for at least another week. Those suckers are really popular!” And with that, Raul left the office. Abigail turned back to her computer to send the pull list and shipping orders out to the printer in the warehouse. She didn’t like not having everything ready in time for the employees to start work right away. It goes against her meticulous nature, as well as not being professional. Plus it makes her employees stand around and do nothing while on the clock. She finalized the orders and sent them to the other printer in fifteen minutes or so, give or take a minute, then set back to the other task at hand: Plotting her revenge against Juanita in a way that would not lead back to her or her company. She pulled up Nita’s employment record that she had on file and e-mailed it to an address that Eric had given her. She was told that the URL for the address cycled every five minutes, so a trace to or from it would be impossible as long as she cleared the ‘sent’ file after it went through. She was also told to not to look for a confirmation or a response. The next part of her plan had to wait until later that night, when she would meet up with Brian Vickers, so she printed up a copy of the records to take home. The rest of the day went pretty fast for everyone else but Abigail. Raul had the warehouse running like a Swiss watch, getting all of the orders ready to ship before the truck from the shipping company arrived and, at the same time, unloaded and restocked the shelves with the new product that arrived at 1:40 PM. Becky had her lab cleaned in record time, and had already started on the creme to make the new mannequin. She said it would be ready Thursday morning. Abigail’s plan called for it’s use on Monday, so it would be in storage until then. Around 3 PM she and her dolly Keisha left the warehouse to buy it some new clothes. She promised to be back at work the next morning to continue with all of the other projects that were already lined up, and, with her new ’lab assistant,’ she should be able to get things prepared faster. The reason why the day dragged for Abigail was because of Juanita. She was furious about what she had done and was afraid for what else she might do, but she couldn’t do anything about it-yet. She tried to keep an eye on her without looking suspicious. Well, having the boss sticking around one employee the whole day for no reason would seem suspicious, right? The day finally ended and Abigail went home. Becky was probably diddling her sex dolly right about now, and Eric hopefully was working on the little task she sent him on, so this was the first night in a long time that she was home all alone. She made herself a light dinner, then waited for Brian to show up. Brian Vickers arrived at 7:30 PM, driving his white Porsche. He pulled into Abigail’s driveway all the way up to her front door. He stepped out of his car wearing a tailor-made three piece suit, striped shirt and silk tie. He was carrying a typical lawyer’s briefcase. Abigail heard him pull up, and she met him at the door before he could ring the doorbell. “Hello, Brian,” She said as she took a step to the right, “Thanks for coming. Please, come on in.” Brian smiled as he walked past her and into the living room. “Hi, Abigail,” He calmly replied, “How are you? There must be something wrong to call me out here at this hour.” “There is. I have an employee who leaked information about my building to someone who tried to rob the warehouse over the weekend…” “Do I want to know what happened to him?” “Well, it was a ’them,’ and no, you don’t. I just want to know what my legal options are before I take any actions.” Brian went over to the sofa and placed his briefcase down on the coffee table. Abigail walked around to the other side of the sofa and sat down herself. Brian opened his case, rifled through some papers in a folder, then pulled out the one he was looking for. He read it dilligently, even though it was a document he composed for Abigail’s hire packet. “Did the employee divulge any information about your business practices?” “No.” “Did the employee release any trademarked formulas?” “No.” “Did the employee attempt to sell any materials used for production or technical data that would help your competiton reproduce any of your products?” “No.” “Then legally all you can do is fire the employee. You can’t sue them because what they did did not fall into the parameters of the confidentiality agreement. Not much I can do about that.” “Shit,” Abigail sighed. Luckily, she had a backup plan. “Look, Juanita Montanez, the employee, told her lover that there would be $750,000 in the factory’s locked lab. She also told him and his accomplices how to get in, the code for the alarm system, and what kind of lock was on the lab’s door. I don’t want the police involved, but I do want to take care of her. What I need is for her to come to me, desperately needing help.” Brian leaned back into the sofa. “Well, there’s really not much I can do.” “I think there is,” Abigail replied as she got up and walked over to her own briefcase by the front door. She pulled out the employment records of Juanita and handed them to Brian. He looked over them as she took her previous seat on the sofa. “As you can see, she’s an immigrant from Brazil. She is legal, been here for almost ten years, and is applying for citizenship. Thanks to the Republican party, it’s been extremely difficult for Hispanics to become United States citizens, so I was hoping that you could fudge some paperwork to make the INS label her an ‘Undesirable’ and schedeule her for deportation. And I need it done by this Friday.” Brian went off into deep thought. He rubbed his chin and the side of his face while contemplating what he just heard. “That wouldn’t be too hard,” he finally replied, “I have some connections inside the INS, but why? She would just go back to the lawyer handling her citizenship application.” “I have someone else taking care of that,” Abigail replied, “The less you know, the better off you’ll be. As a thank you, I can give you a $25,000 donation to the ‘Brian Vickers for Mayor’ campaign war chest. I know you want to run next year.” “Deal,” Brian said as he put the employment records in and closed up his briefcase then stood up, “I’ll make some phone calls tonight and file some documents tomorrow. I’ll call you Wednesday morning with an update. However, there is something else I do need from you. Last week, I had Maryann posed bent over at the waist with her hands stretched out on a table and legs spread. I got drunk and decided to beat her ass. I was swinging away on her, but, in my drunken state, I lost my balance and fell on her. Her left leg is loose at the hip and just stays straight out when laying flat. When I pick her up, her leg hangs limp. It won’t pull back up into her natural position anymore.” “It sounds like your dolly has a dislocated leg,” Abigail replied as she too got up from the sofa, “Give me a time that I can send Mr. Biggs over to pick her up. He’ll bring her back to the factory and Dr. Evers can repair it. I can’t guarantee how long it would take, but we will make it a top priority. Just let me know when.” Both Abigail and Brian started towards the door. “Also, can you program her with different sayings? Her current comments are getting boring.” They reached the door and Abigail opened it for her lawyer. “Sure. Write down what you want it to say and send them along with the dolly. That I know only takes about a half hour.” “You are a godsend,” Brian said as he leaned over and kissed Abigail on the cheek, “Thanks so much for everything.” “No, thank you! You’ve been a very big help with this, Mr. Mayor! Good night!” Abigail closed the door after Brian’s Porsche left the driveway. Feeling content that her plan was about to proceed, she went to bed with a slight grin on her face. *************************** Juanita Montanez was having the worst week of her life. First, the police raided her apartment for a suspected cocaine stash on Tuesday. On Wednesday, her electricity and phone were shut off for some reason. On Thursday, she was informed that her application for citizenship was denied and that she was to be deported in thirty days. Later that night, she returned to her apartment to find the locks were changed and that an eviction notice was on her front door. The reason printed on the notice stated that there was illegal activity being conducted by the tenant, specifically the use and sale of illegal narcotics. Her landlord wouldn’t even talk with her, let alone go inside the apartment to get some of her things. She tried calling her boyfriend Charlie, but he hasn’t been answering his phone all week. It was all rolling over to voicemail. She decided to get a motel room for the night and try to straighten out everything in the morning, but her credit cards were all declined and her debit card had no money in her bank account. She was royally screwed. She spent the night sleeping in her car, which she had parked in an ‘Open all night’ supermarket parking lot. She was awoken Friday morning by the sunlight creeping through the windshield. She went inside the supermarket’s women’s room to get cleaned up as best she could, under the circumstances. She also used the little money she had in her pockets to buy herself a modest breakfast, consisting of a pack of junk food cakes and a soda. She took a look at her cell phone and noticed that it was a little after 7 in the morning. She decided to drive over to her lawyer’s office to see if anything could be done to straighten out her life. Juanita’s lawyer, Anna Flores, specializes in immigration law. She has helped over a hundred immigrants become citizens in her brief legal career, and had helped a lot more with their visa and passport problems. Being a daughter of immigrants herself, she did her best to help those who had an American dream but were having difficulty achieving it. She was very attractive, and has had many suitors, but has always been married to her job. Most men can’t take being second fiddle to a stranger who can barely speak his language. Juanita knew that Anna didn’t get into the office until 8 AM, but she was there waiting. Although she cleaned herself up as best as she could in that public bathroom, she still looked desheveled, and Anna immediately picked up on this. “Dios Mio! Nita, what happened?!?” Anna asked as Juanita approached her outside the office building’s doors. “Everything!” replied Juanita, “Can we please go inside? I really need some help!” Anna silently nodded her head ‘yes’, and ushered the woman inside the office building. They walked past the security desk, where Juanita still had to sign in, then went straight to the elevators. They got off on the third floor, and Anna helped Juanita down the corridor to her office. The door was already unlocked, and Anna’s secretary, and older woman named Rosa, was waiting with a full cup of fresh coffee. “Buenos Dias, Senora Flores,” Rosa said cheerfully. Her demeanor quickly turned sullen once she got a look at Juanita. “Gracias, Rosa,” Anna replied, not stopping for the coffee but headed straight for her office with Juanita in tow, “Please, hold all my calls, and bring in some coffee for Senora Montanez. I’ll check my messages later.” In the office, Juanita plopped wearily down into the nearest chair. Anna put down the briefcase she was carrying and took off her coat. Rosa quickly came in with two cups of coffee, sat them down in front of their intended drinkers, then whisked back out of the office. She shut the door behind her. That’s when the full tale of woe began. Juanita told her everything that had happened over the past three days. Anna listened with disbelief that this could have happened at all. Anna asked if she had any proof that these things could have been done in error, like cancelled checks showing the bills being paid, the search warrant from the police, or a copy of her tenant’s lease. Juanita explained that her landlord won’t let her back into her apartment to retrieve anything, let alone a change of clothes. “I see,” Anna finally said. “I’ll call INS and find out what’s going on there. All of your paperwork with them is correct and filed properly. What you have good going for you right now is that you have a stable job that you have had for more than five years. See if your employer will give you a letter of recommendation on your behalf with a brief work history with them. That would help with INS. As for your other problems, I’m really not equipped to handle those, but I do have a colleague who might be able to. Let me make some phone calls. We’ll get this fixed. Keep your cell phone on and I’ll call you later today. This will be my top priority. Try to relax, and don’t worry. You’ll be back in your apartment by nightfall.” “Oh, gracias, Anna!” Juanita exclaimed as she stood up, “Thank you very much!” “My pleasure. Do you have someplace to stay in the meantime?” “I have to be at work at noon. I can walk around a mall and window shop until then.” “Do you have any money on you?” Anna asked as she reached for her wallet, “Here, take this.” She reached out with two twenty dollar bills in her hand. “Gracias, no,” the proud woman replied, “I can’t take your money. Besides, today’s payday. Luckily, I never signed up for direct deposit. I’ll have my paycheck at the end of the day.” “Okay, if you’re sure,” Anna put the money back into her wallet, “So, go, take it easy for a while, then go to work like normal. I’ll call you as soon as I get results.” Juanita gave a weak smile, then left the lawyer’s office. It was 9:30 AM when she walked back out into the sunlight. She felt a little better, or, more accurately, she felt less depressed, as she walked back to her car. She decided that instead of going to the mall, she would enjoy this beautiful day at Lakeside Park, and watch the ducks swim around until she had to go to work. She took position on a park bench that overlooked most of the park. She let her mind go blank as she watched the world slowly drift by her in such a serene setting. All of her worries melted away as she watched the children play on the swings and jungle gym. The ducks on the lake did their daily dance through life, without a care in the world. She was completely relaxed and was now strong enough to face whatever else the day might throw at her, until she noticed her cell phone was shut off. She suddenly shifted into a mild panic mode! What if the lawyer was trying to call her? How will she get in contact with anyone? Wait…what time is it? She jumped up and stopped the closest person to her, an elderly man with a cane, feeding the pidgeons. “Excuse me, sir,” Juanita politely asked, despite going a mile a minute inside, “But my cell phone died, and I don’t have a watch. Can you please tell me the time?” The elderly man rolled up his sleeve to show an extremely old watch on his wrist. “Why, it’s quarter to noon.” Mild panic was now pole vaulted over. She was now in full panic mode, and was already running towards her car as she yelled ‘Thank you’ over her shoulder to the elderly man. She was going to be late for work! She fumbled with getting her keys out of her pocket, fumbled with getting them into the lock, and fumbled with getting them into the ignition. Once she got the engine started, a little voice in the back of her head told her to drive carefully with no speeding. She definitely didn’t need to be pulled over by the police right now! She arrived at the factory about twenty minutes late, thanks to the lunch time traffic. She hurried through the front doors, but was immeditely met by Eric. “Ah, so nice of you to join us,” He sarcastically said. “I know, I’m very late,” Juanita replied apologetically, “I’m sorry, and it will not happen again.” “Come with me, please.” Eric held the inside door open so she could go through. Once past it, he directed her to Ms. Gillen’s office. Ms. Gillen was sitting behind her desk, going through some papers as Juanita entered. After Eric entered, he closed the door behind him. “Please, sit,” Ms. Gillen said as she motioned to a chair opposite from her. Juanita slowly walked over and sat down. “I know I’m late, Ms. Gillen, and I’m sorry, but…” “Stop,” Ms. Gilled tersely said as she held up her hand in as stopping motion, “I have a report from my lawyer that you were dealing narcotics, and that your work visa has been revoked.” “I can explain!! It’s all a big mistake!! I don’t…” Ms. Gillen held out her hand again to stop her from talking. “Nita, you’ve been here for several years with an impeccable record. I wish I had more employees like you. I feel like I can trust you with any task I give you, and it would be done quickly and correctly. I do not believe this narcotics charge levied against you, and I agree that it is a mistake. However, the work visa is a problem. This company’s policy is to only hire legal workers. You are presently labelled as an ‘Undesirable’ by INS. Hopefully, this is a mistake as well, and that you can get it rectified in short order. Until such time, I can’t allow you to work here. You’re fired.” “WHAT?!?!” Juanita yelled as she slid to the edge of her seat. This can’t be happening!!! “You can’t do this!!! I’ve done nothing wrong!! Someone’s doing this to me!! I was hoping you could help me with this!!” She started crying uncontrollably. “I’m sorry,” Ms. Gillen said with genuine sympathy in her voice, “But I must do what my lawyer suggests. When you get this straightened out, I’ll gladly hire you back, and I’ll even give you a dollar an hour raise because of the inconvenience. Please try to see it from my point of view.” She got up from behind her desk, walked around to Juanita, stooped down, and hugged the weeping girl. “I’m so sorry I have to do this,” Ms. Gillen consoled the girl, “But it’s something beyond my control. The lawyers rule the world now. I know everything will turn out all right.” She pulled away from Juanita and looked into her eyes. “I have your paycheck for last week, as well as your pay for this week. I hope it can hold you over for right now, until you get this taken care of. Also, I wrote my home phone number and address on the back of a business card I attached to the checks. If there’s anything you need, do not hesitate to contact me.” “Can… can… can you…can you give me a… a..letter of recommendation?” Juanita sobbed, choking back her tears. “Sorry,” Ms. Gillen replied as she held the girl again, “But I can’t give a letter to someone who is technically illegal. I’m so sorry.” Juanita continued to cry, even as Ms. Gillen let her go. She felt Eric’s hand on her shoulder. She looked up between the tears to see him motioning towards the door. She cried harder as she stood up, and Ms. Gillen handed her two paper checks. She took them both, and Eric led her out the doors slowly, as if leading a prisoner to the gallows. Outside again, she slowly wandered over to her car, and cried for almost a half hour behind the steering wheel. She finally summoned up the energy to go and cash her last paychecks. The bank that they were drawn on did not have a branch in the county, let alone the state, so she decided to take them to a check cashing store. She knew that she would have to pay 15% of each check’s value, but she didn’t want to take the chance that her bank might confiscate them if she went there. When she arrived, she put Ms. Gillen’s business card in her pocket as she took out her driver’s license and social security card. To her surprise, the store only charged 12% to cash them, so at least one thing was going right this week. She left the store and, with cash in hand, went to get some drive through burgers for lunch. After eating, she headed back to her lawyer’s office for hopefully more good news. Instead, she saw a few different law enforcement cars parked in front of the office building, and one had markings of the INS on it’s doors. She cautiously drove past them all, trying not to draw any attention to herself. After driving for an additional mile, she felt safe enough to pull over and find a payphone. You’d be surprised how few of those things are still around! She finally found one after almost an hour of searching, and it was inside a seedy bar over by the railroad tracks. She had to buy a beer to get some change. She left the drink on the bar as she went to call her lawyer. “Law offices of Anna Flores,” Rosa said cheerfully when she picked it up, “How may I help you?” “My name is Juanita Montanez,” Juanita whispered into the reciever, “I have to talk to Senora Flores immediately!” “Si! Si! Yes, Senora Montanez! We have been trying to get hold of you! Uno Minuto, por favor!” Juanita was put on hold briefly, and suddenly Anna Flores exploded into the phone. “Nita! Nita! If you can hear me, don’t talk,” Anna said in a low whisper, “The police found out you were here earlier. Someone saw your name on the sign in sheet. Dialing your phone number says that your phone is disconnected. You can not come to my office right now. Do not tell me where you are for any reason!” Juanita stood with the phone to her ear in stunned silence. ‘Why is this happening to me?,’ she thought. “I got fired today…,” she said, still in a bit of a daze, “I’m undesirable…” “The police are still here. Go find a place to hide. Contact me again in about five days or so. Hopefully we can talk then. For now, please stay out of sight!” With that, Anna hung up the phone, leaving Juanita so stunned that she couldn’t even move. When she did finally move, she walked slowly over to the bar, gulped down the beer still sitting there, then walked back out into the early afternoon sun. She half staggered back to where her car was parked, only to find it gone. A pile of broken window was in it’s place. ********************* Abigail Gillen was sitting in her living room late Sunday afternoon, watching an old romantic comedy on TV. Comfortably curled up in loose sweat pants and t-shirt, drinking a glass of red wine, and munching on some cheddar crackers was all she wanted from the day. Total relaxation from all of the hard work she had put in for the week was what the doctor ordered, and she always listened to the doctor. Her bliss was interrupted by the doorbell. It wasn’t an unexpected incursion on her day, but it was one she was expecting to come earlier. She walked over to the door with a slight spring in her step. If it was who she hoped it was, it meant her plan was working perfectly. She pushed aside the curtains that hung over the window to the left of the door to see who it was. It was an unkempt Juanita Montanez, still wearing the same clothes she was had on last Friday. She looked dirty, and her clothes had a few rips in them. When Juanita saw he looking, she gave a weak and demoralized smile. Abigail let the curtain go and giggled to herself a little. She quickly composed herself, and opened the door. “Juanita!” Abigail gasped in surprise, “What happened to you?” “Por favor, I need help…,” Juanita pleaded, “I lost my apartment, my car, my money, my citizenship, and the police are looking for me… I have no family here… all of my so-called ‘friends’ turned their backs on me… I didn’t do anything wrong… I’m so hungry… I have no where else to go…Please help me…” “Yes, anything,” Abigail replied, “Wait here.” She turned and headed back inside the house, leaving the door open. She was amazed how bad Juanita had sunk so quickly. She looked and smelled like a bum! Abigail went over and took some money out of her purse and grabbed the box of cheddar crackers. She returned to Juanita, holding out everything in her hands for the girl to take. “I can give you this for right now,” She handed over sixty dollars in cash plus the crackers, “But the police have been around here several times. They even questioned me about you. You can’t stay here too long.” “Do you have anyplace I can stay until next week?” Juanita begged, “I have no place to go… any place at all…” Abigail took her time and made it look like she was in deep thought. Finally, she made it appear like she came up with an answer. “The factory!” she blurted out, “The lab has a bed and a shower in it. No one would think of looking for you there!” “Really? Can I stay there?” “Yes, for a little while. Can you make it there by yourself?” “I think so, but… can’t you take me?” “No. If the police find us together, it would be prison for the two of us. Try and get there as fast as you can, and avoid any surveillance and traffic cameras. Hide around the back in the bushes by the dock entrance. I’ll let you in back there shortly after sundown. Now, go, and be careful!” Abigail literally spun Juanita around and gave her a light shove back down the walkway. The girl looked back at her old boss before she started walking. She took two steps then shoved some crackers into her face. After the girl was far enough away, Abigail closed the door and started to laugh. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Becky. “It’s me… Yes, she just left… Like a charm!…Yes… Is everything ready?… Fruit punch? I thought she liked grape… Okay! Okay! I’m not trying to argue!… Tonight, so we’ll be doing it tomorrow morning, if your synthetic alchohol works… Right… See you around 3 AM then… Okay…Bye.” Abigail pulled into the factory’s parking lot shortly after 8 in the evening. She quickly went inside and disabled the alarms. She made sure that she had locked the front doors after she came in before heading to the receiving dock. She opened the emergency door and peeked her head outside. “Juanita!” she loudly whispered, “Are you there?” She looked all around the area in the darkness, trying to detect movement. It didn’t take long to get a response. “Yo soy,” Juanita replied before coming out from behind a bush, “I’m here.” She ran to the back door and rushed past Abigail, who quickly closed and locked the door behind her. “Thank you, Ms. Gillen,” Juanita said as she caught her breath, “I don’t know how to repay you.” “We’ll find a way,” Abigail replied, “And enough of that ‘Ms. Gillen’ stuff. Please call me Abigail. Now, let’s go get you something to eat and drink. Dr. Evers keeps a stash up in the lab.” She started walking back to the stairs, and she put her arm around Juanita to help her along. As they walked, Juanita would not stop thanking her. “I know how much trouble you could be in for helping me, and I’ll never forget it to my dying day. Not many people would take this kind of chance for another person.” “Well, I know that you are innocent of the charges against you, and I’m hoping you will clear them up quickly. I need you back at work.” “Thank you so much, Ms. Gil-er Abigail. I really appreciate that.” This continued the entire walk to the lab. She didn’t stop talking until they got to the big metal lab door with the retinal lock. Abigail quickly opened it and ushered the girl inside. She followed behind her and closed the door. She locked it, and turned around to Juanita already sprawled out on the small twin bed. “Eat first, then sleep,” Abigail said as she picked Juanita up off the bed, “Come now, the fridge is over here.” She walked the girl towards the back of the lab across from the showers. There was a large industrial fridge against the back wall, and it was loaded with fruits and other snacks, as well as an ample supply of fruit punch drinks. Juanita immediately reached out and started manhandling a bottle of fruit punch. Once she got it opened, she drank half the bottle in a single swig. She then launched herself at an apple, followed by a banana, then a peach. In a short amount of time, she downed seven different fruits and two bottles of fruit punch. She started to stagger a little when she finished off the second bottle. “Mio Dios, este jugo es bueno!” she exclaimed as she reached for a third bottle. She had a little trouble removing the cap, but that was understandable, considering every bottle of fruit punch in there was spiked with synthetic alchohol and nanites keyed to her DNA. “English, please,” Abigail said, trying not to sound insulting, “My Spanish is extremely limited.” “Lo siento…uh, I’m sorry,” Juanita replied, “I just said that this juice is good. You should have some.” “Fruit punch does not agree with me. I’ll stick with the cherry.” Abigail took a bottle of cherry water and started drinking. She knew that the cherry drinks were safe, and she had to try and match Juanita drink for drink to get the desired effect. The girl had to be very drunk for what was to happen next. So the night went on, and Juanita had about eight bottles of fruit punch and Abigail had about six cherry waters. Aside for a few staggering trips down to the women’s room, everything was going according to plan. Juanita was very drunk, and, luckily, she was a happy drunk. “Abigail! Abigail! Did I ever tell you that I think you should sell more men sex dolls?!? You know, guys with big cocks?!? Big, fat, long, donkey jealous, Tarzan swinging boners?!? They’d sell great! I’d even buy one! It’d be better than my boyfriend! The perro ain’t called me in a week! Well, fuck him…his loss…,” Juanita drunkenly stammered while hardly taking a breath. She was so drunk, she could barely stand. She was stretched out on the bed with her head propped up by her elbow. “What a coincidence!” Abigail replied, “We’re testing a new dolly right now! Stay right here… I’ll be right back!” She went out the door, and returned a few minutes later carrying Charlene. When Juanita got a good look at the oversized Barbie doll with the huge penis, her eyes got as big as saucers. “Oh, Dios mio!!! Oh, my God!!!” She exclaimed as she sat up, “You’re going to start selling those?!? That dong is huge!!!” “We’re thinking of selling them. Would you like to try it out?” “Oooh, I’d like to, but I don’t think so…” “Please, Mistress,” The dolly said with it’s typical recorded sounding voice, “Please play with my cock… Let me make you cum.” “Wow! It talks!” Juanita said as she stood up. She walked over and grabbed it’s penis. “Oooohhhh, yes… Please, fuck me…” the dolly begged. “Go ahead,” Abigail said as she directed both Juanita nad the dolly over to the bed, “You know you want to. I know you want to. You need this right now. You just said that you wanted one, and the only difference is that this is a woman instead of a man with a huge cock. Drink some more fruit punch and I’ll leave the room. Just knock on the door when you’re done.” Abigail left the room to give Juanita some privacy. In about five minutes, she was hearing moans from both the girl and the dolly. An hour after that, things went quiet and there was a knock at the lab door. Abigail went back in to see Juanita wearing nothing but her panties and an unbuttoned blouse, sitting on the edge of a stool, drinking another fresh bottle of fruit punch. “You were right,” she said in an extremely drunken voice, “I did need that. Charlie can go fuck himself. I want one of these. Did you know that if you put your tit in its mouth, it’ll start sucking?” “Charlene,” The dolly retorted. “Yes, it was designed to do that,” Abigail replied as she went over to silence the doll with a wadded up piece of clothing, “This particular model will sell for $250,000 dollars once passes the safety tests.” She picked up the remaining clothes and handed them back to Juanita. That’s when the time for the chemical shower came to mind. “Phwew!” Abigail remarked when she got close to Juanita, “I think it’s time for you to take a shower! You smell like a wharf at low tide during an oil spill!” She again took the girl by the arm and led her down to the showers. The bottle of mannequin creme was already sitting on a small plastic table in where the showers were. “I do smell a bit funky,” Juanita stammered, “But I don’t have anything else to wear.” “There’s a bathrobe and slippers here you can wear until we get you clean clothes,” She replied, trying to get her inside the shower before Becky and Renee arrive, “There’s also a bathing cap so your hair doesn’t get wet. We also have this wax that makes your eyebrows look fantastic.” She quickly spread the wax on her eyebrows before she could complain. “I never had this done before,” Juanita said as Abigail appied the wax, “If I had known, I wouldn’t have shaved my bush Friday morning!” With some difficulty, Abigail finally got the drunken Juanita into the shower with all of the precautions in place. She used rubber gloves to apply the creme to every part of the girl’s body, despite the staggering and tilting common with drunken people. Once it was fully applied, and the proper amount of time for it to take effect went by, the water was turned on to rinse it all off. Abigail then helped towel the drunk girl off to reveal the plastic sheen of her skin. The next part was tricky. The transformation into a mannequin had begun, and it would cause her drunkeness to clear up very fast. She had to work faster. She slipped on the bathrobe and slippers, then led her to the door to the lab. “Hey, you want to see something cool?” Abigail asked. “Sure, Abby, always!.” Juanita replied. Being called ‘Abby’ caused Abigail to cringe. She hated being called that with a passion, but she was on a tight schedeule here. Her anger can be addressed later. “I’ll show you where we make the mannequins.” “Cool, with a capital ‘C’!” Abigail led Juanita out of the lab. They turned immediately to the right, and staggered the short distance to the mannequin room. The door was unlocked, and they had some difficulty getting in. It was hard to open a door while still holding up a drunk. Luckily, this is when both Becky and Renee arrived. “Dr. Evers! So glad to see you!” Juanita blurted out when she saw them, “Who’s your friend? Hi! I’m Nita! That Charlene dolly is incredible!” “I take it that this is her?” Renee asked as she helped hold Juanita up by her left arm. “Yep, that’s her,” Becky replied as she took Juanita’s right arm, “What do you think?” “Let’s finish, and then I’ll decide.” They finally made it inside the mannequin room. As of right now, there were only five mannequins left in storage. All of the others have been sold to lakeside resorts that sold bikinis and other swimwear, so they had to rebuild their backstock soon. But that is for another day. Right now, they had to finish making the one they started on. The three women dragged the staggering girl over to the metal support rods. Becky had set them last Friday morning in accordance with the height listed in Juanita’s employment file. They decided to make her a jointed mannequin, so the supports were placed accordingly. As they headed over to them, Juanita looked around the room at the remaining nude mannequins. “Wow, they’re so lifelike…,” She commented as she was whisked past them. “Would you like to pretend to be one?” Abigail asked as they reached the supports, “It’ll be fun.” “I dunno…,” Juanita replied, “Can I play with Charlene again?” “Sure, but later. First, I need you to take off your slippers and stand on these slanted blocks. Also, take off your bathrobe and place your elbows in these brackets with your neck against this brace.” “My bathrobe…?” Juanita was starting to sober up. “Yes, you have to be naked to play mannequin. If you don’t then you will not get to play with Charlene again. Besides, it’s just us girls here. You don’t have anything we don’t have ourselves.” In reality, the terrycloth in the barthrobe will make cloth pattern marks in the mannequin’s plastic skin as it forms, thus ruining the mannequin. After some thought, Juanita slowly removed her bathrobe. There was something about Charlene that she was attracted to, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She gave the robe to Abigail, who in turn gave it to Becky. As she handed it over to her, she leaned over and whispered something into her ear. Becky smiled, then left the room. Abigail and Renee proceeded in placing Juanita into the braces. It was difficult trying to keep the girl’s head up as she was drunk, but the nanites started working overtime making her jounts stiffen. Finally, her head stayed inside the neck brace. As it did, Juanita became more sober by the minute. “Abby? Abby…I can’t move,” Juanita said through a closed mouth, “What’s happening to me?” “We decided instead of letting you play mannequin, we chose to make you one instead,” Abigail replied, “Your whole body is being turned into thick hollow plastic. Once it finishes, we’re going to cut you into pieces and glue joints into you so you can be posed.” “Wh-wh-what?!? Why?” Juanita asked, “Why do this to me?” “Because you betrayed me. You told your boyfriend Charlie all about my building and it’s alarm system. He and two of his friends tried to rob us Friday of two weeks ago, and he said that you were his source of information. He said that you gave him the alarm code, directions on how to get in, described the retinal lock on the lab door, even that there would be over $750,000 dollars in cash here. He mentioned you by name. You even said your bofriend’s name was Charlie, and you haven’t heard from him in over a week, right?” “C-C-Ch-Char-lee?” Juanita sruggled to say out loud. As she said that, Becky returned pushing her computer cart. Behind her followed Keisha, and it was carrying Charlene. Keisha was no longer wearing the French maid costume, but was instead in red skin tight hot pants, a pink tube top, high heeled sneakers and pink socks. This was the first time Abigail saw the dolly dressed like this, and it made her laugh. This was the first time Renee had seen a moving dolly, and was fascinated. Keisha immediately had a comment for the laughter. “Don’t blame me for this,” Keisha said as it put the Charlene dolly on the floor, “I didn’t want to dress like a 1970’s Manhattan hooker.” “Oh, you look great!” Becky replied as she pushed the cart in front of Juanita. “I look like I should be trolling the men’s room at ‘Studio 54’.” “Renee,” Abigail asked between giggles, “Is this acceptable the way it is, or do you prefer changes?” Renee was still entranced by the walking, talking dolly, but the question snapped her out of it. “Give her two cup sizes bigger and soft, and make her have a bright and welcoming smile,” Renee replied, “Then let’s see what we have.” She then returned her attention to Keisha.

The Sex Dolly Factory

Thu, 20 Dec 2018 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory 3)

Part 4a: The Criminals Part 1

The town was becoming more populated as the decades went by, with more people entering and being born than leaving or dying. In a few more years, the town could be reclassified as an actual city, which is what the local politicians want more than anything. There were now more than 200,000 people living within the town’s borders. New building construction inside the center of town has begun on buildings that were over ten stories tall. Public transportation now included over 60 busses. The new city hall is schedeuled to open next year with over fifty offices, not including the mayor’s office, ten criminal courtrooms, holding cells, a bail bondsman on site, a fully stocked cafeteria, and a daycare center for the town’s employees who can’t afford a sitter. The only problem with this growth spurt is the inherent rise in crime that goes along with it.

The Sex Dolly Factory

Wed, 14 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory 2)

Part 3: The Model Mannequins

Mary was both excited and nervous about her first modelling job. She couldn’t sit still and she also felt like she was going to throw up. She wasn’t exactly plain, nor was she cover girl material, but she was offered the gig nonetheless. She chalked it up to her best friend, Paula, the raven haired second generation Italian beauty who has been her best friend since the second grade. Paula was the super model while she was ‘The girl next door that you have a chance with.’ It was Paula’s idea to move to the city and become models. Mary wanted to go onto college, but without a scholarship there was no way that her family could pay for it. Paula argued that she would have plenty of cash within two years to pay for any college she wanted. All they had to do was walk around in frilly dresses or skimpy bikinis, and people would literally throw money at them. Seemed like a sweet deal at the time, but that was three months ago, and now a job at a fast food restaurant sounded appealing. Neither girl knew anything about the modelling world, and the lack of knowledge caused them to run through all of their savings really fast. Without a reputable agent behind them, they weren’t getting any offers. Disreputable agents were everywhere, and they wanted the two nineteen year olds to do porn. They both agreed to each other, “Shit shovelers before porn stars.” It was 4:30 in the morning, and Mary kept looking out the window of their small, one bedroom fourth floor apartment, looking for the car that was coming to pick them up. They had been hired to pose for mannequin molds for Flozell’s department store. The gig started at 5 AM and was going to take all day to do. Some type of body casting so they could make several mannequins based on their bodies. They even took hair samples to make sure they got the wigs to match as well. She heard of body molds of actors being made for movies, but never of a whole body. She did some research on the internet and found out that NASA did something similar to their early astronauts to make their suits and seats inside the modules. She found this interesting, whereas Paula simply asked, “Will it cause my skin to break out?” Paula was sitting on the worn out, third-hand sofa, watching her friend pace back and forth like a panther in the zoo. Of the two of them, she was the calm one. Not that there was anything wrong with her mentally, it was just that she was so attractive that she never had to wait on anything or anyone. She was more dismissive, yet dominant in her demeanor, which was an extreme contrast to Mary’s excitable yet submissive outlook. Confident to Mary’s uneasiness. That’s probably why they’ve been friends for so long. They just complimented each other so well. “Will you please stop pacing?” Paula asked as she got up from the sofa, “You’re gonna walk a hole through the floor.” “I’m sorry,” Mary replied as she looked at her cellphone, “But it’s 4:35 and no one’s here, and no one’s called. They must’ve cancelled. They cancelled and they didn’t call. They think we’re not worth calling.” Her pacing picked up speed, and her face took up a very worried look. Paula let out a little giggle. She reached out and grabbed her friend on her next pass and pulled her close into a big hug. “Oh, what am I gonna do with you? Calm down. They show up when they show up. If they don’t show up, well, that’s their loss. Worrying only leads to early facial wrinkles. Take a few deep breaths and relax, will you?” She held Mary until she finally calmed down enough to stand still on her own. She then pulled her away to arm’s length and looked into her eyes. “There. That’s better. I was afraid that I was gonna hafta slap you, Plain Jane.” Mary giggled a little herself. “You may be bigger than me, but I will defend myself, Topheavy.” Both girls started laughing. As is with all good friends, tensions are easily diffused with some good-natured ribbing. Mary was nicknamed by Paula “Plain Jane” in high school for her plain body build and Paula was nicknamed by Mary “Topheavy” since the sixth grade when she quickly developed breasts almost overnight. Heaven help the soul that ever tried to use these nicknames on them because both girls defended each other like sisters. No one picked on Mary while Paula was around, and no one picked on Paula while Mary was around. Suddenly a car horn sounded outside the window. Paula looked this time to see a large black luxury car double parked outside. It looked like a Cadillac, or maybe a Lincoln. It didn’t really matter what kind it was, it was here to take them into their dreams. The money was about to start flowing in like a river, and the fifty thousand each were getting for this job was like opening up the dam. Paula turned to Mary and gave an incredibly huge smile. Mary smiled back, and then both started for the door. Mary shut off her cellphone and placed it on the table next to the sofa. “Hey,” she called to Paula, who was halfway out the door. “Remember? No cellphones. Leave it here.” “No way. I don’t go anywhere without my phone.” “Remember what we were told? No phones, cameras, or recording stuff at the factory, or we don’t get the job.” “Stupid rule,” Paula said with a huff, as she came back into the room. She removed her cellphone from her purse and put it down next to Mary’s. “I don’t see why we can’t have it. It’s not like we’re gonna call in an air strike or something.” “Fifty thousand dollars,” was Mary’s only reply. Paula stared at Mary for a few seconds. “Great argument. I’ll concede that fact. Now let’s go. Our chariot awaits!” The girls gave each other a giddy hug, then rushed out the door. They went down the four flights of steps as fast as their high heels could take them. Mary was so excited, she thought she was floating down the stairs. Paula had to go more carefully because too much bouncing made her heavy breasts hurt after a while, but she made it down in good time. Once at the bottom of the stairs, they quickly composed themselves as they went for the front door. They both checked their clothes for wrinkles or imperfections, and Paula had to retuck her blouse back into her skirt. Mary had to push her long brown hair back behind her ears so she could see again. With a simple nod to each other, they flung the front door open. ************** Renee Flozell has been the merchandising manager for the department store chain her grandfather started since graduating college. You could say that it was nepotism that made her a vice president, but she liked to think that it was her hard work and determination. A twenty-seven year old woman sitting on the board of directors is almost unheard of anywhere, unless that woman got there on her back. This was not her case, and she has the diplomas and track record to prove it. Ever since she took over the merchandising and displays of the stores, sales had risen at least 30% across the board, with a 50% rise in women’s clothing. Most of her success had come from simply making the products more appealing to the target customers through attractive and innovative displays. This was especially true with the new mannequins she made the stores buy. The previous mannequins were simple generic faceless white plastic statues with no real features to accentuate the clothing they were wearing. She thought it was like tacking the clothes to a wall. No one could really tell how well they would hang on a real human body. She fought with her father, the current owner and CEO of the chain, to get more realistic clothing displays. Throwing down the gauntlet, he told her that he would buy three of them as a trial. She bought three female mannequins four days later from a friend that she went to college with, and all three had different body types, sizes, and heights, as well as lifelike hair and faces. She used them for the summer bathing suit roll-out, and they were a big success. Within a month, sales of bathing suits in the store the mannequins were placed in jumped 70%. Suddenly, Renee had a blank check and was a vice president. The first thing she did was to sign a contract with Exclusive Products Co. for all of their current and future mannequin needs. Her friend, Dr. Rebecca Evers, was the lead scientist with this company, and was the major contributor to both sides of the contract. Flozell’s would come to Exclusive Products for all of their mannequin needs, and Exclusive Products would give steep discounts. Also, Flozell’s would recommend Exclusive Products ‘in stock’ mannequins to other companies and stores. All in all, it was very beneficial to both parties. Renee did know about how they made the mannequins, and that they made deluxe sex dollies almost the same way, but this didn’t bother her. She had her fill of stuck-up prissy little beauty queens since boarding school. She was a beauty herself, and a nice body with a luxurious head of light brown hair, but she had a very bad case of acne as an early teen, which left her face with several pock-marked scars across both cheeks, her nose, and her forehead. She was picked on mercilessly by the other girls because of this superficial deformity, and she never forgot or forgave. Some of the deepest scars can’t be seen. There were only two things that helped her keep her sanity when she made it to college: A kid genius lesbian, Rebecca, who was a kindred spirit from also being picked on, and an incredibly sensitive nerd boy, Tommy, who saw the real woman inside. She had remained a good friend with Becky, even though one time Becky got drunk and made an aggressive pass at her while they were sophomores (Becky apologized profusely later, then they both had a good laugh). Tommy had proposed to Renee last Christmas, and their wedding is planned for two weeks after he earns his Phd, which is hopefully this fall. Right now, Renee is waiting for two inexperienced models to come down to the car she was sitting in. The driver, Eric, works security for Exclusive Products Co., and he helps procure the new talent. He has been doing this for a long time, and he knows how to do his job. After they leave here, no one will ever see this car again, especially not the real owner, who will probably report it stolen when he wakes up in a few hours. He was also nice enough to bring her a coffee before he picked her up this morning. He honked the horn as they pulled up, and they didn’t have to wait very long. It was only about a minute when he said, “Here they come.” The front door on the apartment building swung open and Renee watched the two girls emerge. Both she and Eric stepped out of the car and waved to them. Both girls had on wide smiles as they quickly approached, and Eric turned around to open up the back seat door of the car. The girls made a beeline directly for it without any invitation. After all, doesn’t the chauffeur always open the car door for the models? “Good morning!” both girls said almost in tandem as they climbed into the back seat. Mary slid in first, then scooted over for Paula. Once both were in, Eric closed the door and climbed back in behind the wheel. Renee slid back into the front passenger’s seat all the while never taking her eyes off of the girls. “Morning ladies,” Renee said cordially, “Are we ready to make some magic?” With a rousing chorus of “You Bet!”, “Can’t wait!”, and “I’m so excited!” escaping the girls lips in no discernable order, they prepared to take girls to the factory. “Girls, this is Eric,” Renee said as she nodded to the man behind the wheel. “He’s going to drive us to the people who will make the mannequins and then bring us home. He’s an excellent driver, and he’ll have us there in no time. The sooner we get there the sooner we can get done. This will be a long day, not including the paperwork you need to fill out. But first, I’ll need your giddy butts to put on your seat belts! We can’t have you bouncing around back there like a couple of four year olds, especially while we’re moving!” Everyone had a laugh as the girls did what they were told. Once secured, Eric started driving. The two girls kept on chattering away with both small talk and aspirations of grandeur the entire car ride. Renee tried to be pleasant and answered their silly comments as they went, but inside she wished that they would just shut their vapid little holes. Eric had a look of contempt as the girls just droned on and on and on… The ride took a little over fifteen minutes to get to the industrial complex where the factory was. It was barely noticeable in the early morning darkness, mostly because of the lack of street lights in the area. There was only one light in the small parking lot they pulled into. Their car parked next to the only other car in the lot, a black Mercedes. There was a small sidewalk path that led from the cars to a set of darkened glass double doors. There were small rays of light coming out from the gap between the doors, proving that someone was in there. Eric got out of the car and opened the back door again. Both girls slid out of that side and looked around. Renee climbed out of the passenger’s seat and started towards the door to the factory. Eric closed the back door and stood behind the girls as they tried to figure out what they were doing here in this run down area. “This is it?” Paula asked as she tried to catch up with Renee. Mary wasn’t far behind. “Yes, this is the place,” Renee replied without stopping her stride. She reached out and pulled on the door’s handle, but it was locked. “Were you expecting a factory that uses toxic materials like polypropylene to be built smack dab in city center?” She released the handle and turned to Eric, who was still standing next to the car. “Eric, the door’s locked. Can you buzz them or something?” “Oh, they’re probably upstairs getting things ready,” he replied as he started over to where the three girls were standing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of about twenty keys. He found the one he was looking for and opened the door. He held it open so the women could enter into the lobby. Once everyone was in, he turned and locked the door again. He then searched the ring for another key and walked over to the door on the opposite side of the room. “I’ll go find them, let them know you’re here. All of the contracts are on the two clipboards on the coffee table if you want to get them started. I put your company’s paperwork on top, and ours underneath. Be right back.” He quickly unlocked the door and disappeared through it like a ghost. The two girls both had confused looks on their faces. Renee didn’t appear to notice. She simply went over and picked up the two clipboards. “Hunky guy aside,” Mary said, “This seems a little strange.” “Yep, the guy’s a sploosh,” Paula added, “But sometimes you gotta deal with some strange to get where you wanna be. I can deal with a little strange if he’s willing to scratch my itch later.” “Paula, you would do just about anything humanoid with a penis!” “You say that like it’s bad or something.” “Can we please dispense with the girl’s high school bathroom talk for the time being?” Renee asked, with obvious frustration in her voice. “Not trying to be rude, but this is costing my company a lot of money for this, and we need to get started. Or would you two rather I have Eric take you home?” Both girls were taken aback by the sudden change of attitude in Renee. “Chill out, lady. This is who I am, and I don’t change for anybody,” Paula exclaimed. Mary let out a loud gasp upon hearing her friend’s retort. “PAULA!!!” Mary shouted with anger in her voice. “I’m sorry for my friend’s out burst, Ms. Flozell. It’s early, she hasn’t had any coffee yet, and she doesn’t have her cellphone on her. She didn’t really mean that, did you?” She gave Paula a mild but firm slap on the arm. “No. I’m sorry,” Paula said with humility in her apology. She really didn’t mean it, but it was enough to fool Renee, or so she thought. They really needed this job, and mouthing off is not something she should be doing right now. “It’s okay,” Renee replied, almost nonchalantly. “Early morning modelling sessions can be tough, even for experienced models. So, let’s get you started filling out your paperwork. The papers on top are basically the modelling contract, your W4 form, a release saying that Flozell’s has permission to use your likeness in our stores, and a direct deposit release. The other papers are from Exclusive Products, Inc. They have a disclosure agreement, a liability waiver, another likeness release form, and I believe what they call a ‘Dolly’ form.” She handed each girl a clipboard. A pen was attached to the top of each one. “Excuse me,” Mary asked as she took the clipboard, “A ‘Dolly’ form?” “Exclusive products makes other products than just mannequins. They also make inflatable and solid rubber sex dolls, what they call ‘Dollys,’ and that agreement lets this company use your likeness to make a sex doll based on your looks. Since they will already have the mold of your bodies, it isn’t too difficult for them to make a dolly of you. I’ve seen some of the finished products and they do excellent work with them. It’s really quite flattering.” “EWWWWW!!!!” Mary exclaimed while in full disgust mode. Paula instead formed an evil grin. “Sounds kinky,” she said, “They can do it, as long as they give me one for myself. And give me a life sized one of Eric, too.” “Lady, sometimes you make me sick!” Mary said to her friend. “Hey, do you know how many people told me to go fuck myself in my lifetime?” Paula asked rhetorically as she took the other clipboard, “I’d just be giving into popular demand.” Renee just shook her head as the two girls took seats in the chairs against the one wall and started writing. She was grateful for the momentary peace and quiet. The paperwork was pretty easy to follow, so neither one of these idiots should have problems with them, as if it matters. She had to keep stringing them along until they were upstairs. As they were finishing up, Mary asked how to fill out the ‘Dolly’ form to NOT letting them have permission, that’s when the interior door opened again. Out walked Eric, Abigail Griffin, and her friend, Dr. Rebecca Evers. Eric was pushing what looked like a large box that could’ve held an old 32 inch tube television with a hand truck. Renee didn’t notice that. She noticed the black eye and cast on her friend’s wrist. “Oh, my God! Becky!” she exclaimed as she rushed over to hug her friend. She threw her arms around her and, because of their slight height difference, she almost knocked her glasses off her face. “What happened? Who did this? Why didn’t you tell me?!?” “I was attacked by someone I met at a bar,” Becky told her friend as she hugged her back. “I didn’t want to worry you. You’re a worry wart, and you would’ve never let me get back to my work until the cast came off. I love you to death, but sometimes you’re a pain in the ass when it comes to illnesses.” “Yes, yes, you’re right,” Renee replied as she let her friend go. “Did the police catch who did this to you?” “No, they are still looking,” Abigail answered with a slight smile. Once Renee made eye contact with her, Abigail gave a slight nod towards Eric. “Don’t think they ever will,” Eric added as he pushed the box towards the glass double doors. “Can someone help me with the doors?” Becky started towards the doors. “Yeah, I will,” she said, “It’s nice to feel useful around here.” Abigail turned to the two girls sitting in the lobby chairs. “Are these two your new discoveries, Renee?” Both girls stood up as to introduce themselves, but Renee took charge. “Yes, they are,” Renee replied. “This is Paula Miletti,” she said as she moved her hand towards the black haired beauty, “And this is Mary Lind,” moving her hand towards the average brunette. “Hello!” Mary said warmly as she put her hand out in greeting. Abigail took it and gave a polite shake. “Mornin’,” Paula simply stated as she gave a little wave. “Nice place you got here.” Abigail gave both of them a polite smile. “I’m Abigail Gillen, the owner of this establishment. Over there is our lead scientist, Dr. Rebecca Evers.” Becky looked up and waved her free, non-broken hand. “As you can see, she is injured, so this process may take a little longer than normal. If we do run into a longer time than you have been quoted, I will personally pay for your overtime. Does that sound fair?” “More than fair!” Mary blurted out without thinking. Paula rubbed her hands together greedily and smiled. “Good! After Eric finally gets through the door, we’ll get started.” Abigail motioned for the clipboards. Both girls handed them to her, and she handed one to Renee while she looked over the other. “Everything seems to be in order, Mary, but you do not want a dolly made from your mold?” Abigail asked. “No way!,” Mary said strongly, “Those things are disgusting! Anyone who buys one is a slimy pervert!” “Well, Paula is acceptable to the idea as long as she can have one for herself,” Renee said as she showed the paper to Abigail, “Her reasons for it are… well… colorful, to say the least.” As this was going on, Eric was finally out the door and Becky closed and locked it. “That’s one less problem I’m going to lose sleep over,” she mumbled out loud to herself as she walked over to the other girls. “Are we ready to get going?” “Not yet,” Abigail said as she gave her clipboard to Renee. “Ladies, before we continue, I need you to empty your pockets and purses here on the table. Also I need you to remove your shoes. Before you ask, we need to see if you‘re carrying any recording devices or cameras. I will also be frisking you to make sure there‘s none concealed in your clothing.” Mary did what she was told without questioning. Paula thought about it for a moment, then also complied. Abigail frisked both women quickly as Renee stood in an authoritative pose before them, as if to give the impression that she was protecting the girls from any improprieties. Satisfied that both of them were ‘clean’, she told them to gather their things back into their purses. It was time to go to work! ****************** The walk through the warehouse floor over to the freight elevator was somewhat uneventful. Paula made a few jokes about the inflatable dolls in the boxes on the shelves, while Mary kept silent and just averted her eyes. Abigail, Renee and Becky were catching up with what was going on with their lives as they walked. They got into the elevator and took it to the second floor. The door opened and the first sight the novice models saw were rows of pews with what looked like women wrapped in plastic sitting on them. The scene made Mary give out a shrill scream. “Hey! Hey! It’s okay! They’re only life size dolls!” Becky consoled in a loud voice towards the shaken up girl. She reached out with her good hand and pulled Mary towards them. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” As they got closer, Mary started to see the differences between living and latex tissue. She reached out with her other hand and touched one through the plastic bag. It felt like a thick balloon filled with corn syrup. She quickly calmed down and apologized for her outburst. “Sorry about that,” she meekly said, “But it looked too much like ‘Night of the Living Dead’ for a second there.” “You’re such a pussy,” Paula snidely said. “It’s understandable,” Abigail replied, “But those aren’t the top of the line models we have. We have others that look like they could have a conversation with you. But we’ll save that for another time. Let’s get to the mannequin room, then we’ll go over what’s going to happen today.” The five headed over to the hallway that was between a row of shelving and a wall that had two doors on it. The closer one was a heavy metal door and the farther one was like a normal door. This was the one they walked towards and went through. The room they entered had about twenty mannequins lined up four deep against the left wall. They were all naked and extremely detailed. Some even had pubic hairs! Paula and Mary had seen the mannequins in Flozell’s when they were there for the interviews, so they weren’t really shocked in seeing these. Mary was a little unnerved, especially after the scene she did a few minutes earlier, but she quickly regained her composure. Both girls walked further into the room and noticed a bunch of what looked like microphone stands and large round metal bases at the far end of the room. Next to them were eight tall thin light towers, covered with a whole lot of red LED lights on one side. “Okay,” Abigail announced to get the girls attention, “Mary, Paula, this is where we’re going to make the mannequins. To explain the procedure, I’ll let Dr. Evers have the floor. If you have any questions, please wait until after she goes over everything.” Both girls nodded, and came closer to Becky. “The procedure is pretty simple,” Becky started, “But it is time consuming. What we’re going to do first is have you strip down to your underwear so we can take some measurements. After that, we’ll have you get into the poses Ms. Flozell has in mind for each of you, and we’ll set up the supports to help you keep those poses. The supports are those thin metal rods with the bases over there. There are also some triangle blocks to place under your feet in case the mannequins will be wearing heels. Next you’ll be taking a shower with my special formula crème that has three functions: Softens your skin, removes all unnecessary hair, and leaves a thin waxy film on your skin. The wax is there for the next step. You’ll be brought back in here and reset into the poses again. While you’re in position, we’re going to be using a new 3d printer scanner to capture every nook and cranny on you. The wax helps reflect the scanner’s laser. This is what’ll take the most time, so you will not be able to move until the scan is completed. There will be a chance to use the bathroom before the shower stage, and after the shower you will both be given a bottle of flavored water. This water was also developed by me, and it is designed to keep a person from dehydrating over a 24 hour period. It also has a lot of potassium in it to keep your muscles from cramping while in your pose. When the scan is completed, you’ll take another shower to remove the wax. After that, it’s home to bed, or to whatever you might wanna do. Now, any questions?” Paula Shook her head. “Nope, just tell me where to put my clothes.” Mary was hesitant. “No one told me about any nudity,” she stammered. “And what about this ‘hair removal’?” “We have to make your skin as smooth as possible,” Abigail said. “The human body has hair follicles on almost every part of their body except the soles of their feet. Even the smallest hair on your body can cause havoc with the scan. We do have a thicker wax for your eyebrows, and pubic hair if you want to keep it. The crème will not be used close around your eyes themselves, so your eyelashes will be safe. The hair on your heads will be covered with a shower cap throughout the showers and scanning process. The top of your heads will be covered with a wig anyway, so the little bumps and valleys will be hidden up there. “The nudity part should be self explanatory. We make lifelike mannequins. You had already known that Flozell’s wanted lifelike mannequins. We cannot make them lifelike if you do not want a complete mold of your body created.” Mary didn’t seem convinced, as she clutched the top of her blouse tightly. “Will you get over it?” Paula complained as she was already down to her stockings, “It’s no big deal. I’ve seen you wearing bikinis smaller than the underwear you have on right now. Stop being a baby and become a professional model!” The cajoling of her friend was enough to spur Mary on. She started to slowly remove her clothing. Renee was already gathering up Paula’s things as Abigail took Mary’s blouse. Becky headed over to the supports and started moving them around the floor. “Are either one of the mannequins going to need joints, or are these solid ones?” Becky asked Renee. “One and one,” Renee replied as she picked up the last of Paula’s clothes. “Paula is going to be solid pose and Mary will have ten joints. Both will be in four inch heels.” “Gotcha. Paula, come over here, please, and stand on this display stand. Careful, the metal is a little cold.” Becky motioned with her hand to the metal disc on the floor to the right. She walked over to the far corner and picked up four metal triangles. These were the feet supports for the future use of the shoes. She came back and put two of the triangles on the disc Paula was tiptoeing across and the other two on the disc next to it. The two triangles slid into small slots in the bottom of the disc about 8 inches apart. Paula was directed to turn around and rest her feet on them like they were shoes. “Now describe the pose you want,” Becky asked, “And try to be a little more specific than last time, will you?” She walked over to get one of the supports to balance Paula on the stand by placing it against the small of her back. “She gave you a hard time?” Paula asked, “She seems like the type to do that.” “No I didn’t!” Renee retorted, defending her honor, “You didn’t hear very well! “Whatever,” Becky replied, “So how do you want her?” Becky walked over and lifted Paula’s right arm at the wrist up to slightly above her right shoulder with her elbow fully bent, her palm facing her shoulder. She took the girl’s left hand and put it in front of her, like she was carrying a beach bag in front of her legs, but held her hand right above the level of her crotch. She then turned the girl’s head slightly to the left then took a step back to take a look. Not satisfied, she stepped closer again and turned the girl’s hips slightly to the right. “Can we take her right leg back a bit? Make it look like she’s walking?” “Sure,” Becky replied. She bent down and moved the triangle under Paula’s right foot back three slots. Paula repositioned her weight as best she could without losing the pose. Renee stepped back again and liked what she saw. “That’s perfect. Hold it right there. Would you like my help to set the supports?” Renee offered. Becky nodded yes, and they set to work. They used two supports for the left arm and one support with a cup on the end for the right elbow. Another with what looked like half of a halo on the end of it was adjusted to fit right behind her neck, in order to keep her back straight. Becky now realized that she would’ve taken forever setting this up by herself with only one good hand. Once they were finished, Paula was free to step off of the stand. Now it was Mary’s turn. Because Mary’s was going to be jointed, the pose was simple. She just had to stand on the base with her legs eight inches apart but parallel, her arms out from her side on a thirty degree angle with her palms facing forward, and a slight bend in her elbows. After they set the stands for Mary, both girls had their measurements taken. Mary was five foot four inches tall, 108 lbs, 34 inch chest C cup, 26 inch waist, and 36 inch hips. Paula was five foot eight inches tall, 115 lbs, 36 inch chest D cup, 26 inch waist, 34 inch hips. From there, they went to take a shower. The shower was in the lab, which was the next room over. Mary wasn’t too happy about walking through a warehouse in her underwear, but her friend shamed her again into doing something that she wouldn’t normally do. Because Becky’s eye had not healed enough from her incident, Abigail had to open the retinal scanner lock. The door opened and everyone filed inside, with Mary being the fastest. Becky led them all past the tables with the scientific equipment to the row of showers on the far right wall. “Here we are,” she said triumphantly. She opened a box on the table closest to the showers and pulled out two bathing caps, two bath robes, and two pairs of slippers, all still in their original packaging. Renee placed the clothes from both girls inside the now empty box. “First thing we have to do is protect your hair. These caps should fit tight enough so they won’t move on your heads. They have little drawstrings in the back to get them tight, like surgical gowns. Abigail, Renee, please help them with these.” While they fumbled with the shower caps, Becky went over to a cabinet under another table and collected two white tins and a dark plastic bag. One tin had a black lid and the other had a brown lid. She carried all three items over to the girls. The shower caps were firmly in place by the time she got back to them. “In this bag,” she explained while holding it up for all to see, “Is beeswax. This is what’s going onto your eyebrows to protect them. It’ll also be used for your pubics, if you still have them and wanna keep them.” “There’s a bald beaver over here,” Paula announced while raising her hand. “I have a bikini wax,” Mary squeaked with a hint of shame. “I don’t need to keep it, unless if it hurts to remove it.” “The hair removal is painless,” Becky said, “There’s lidocaine inside the crème, so you won’t feel a thing.” Mary meekly nodded her approval. The beeswax was applied to both girls eyebrows and they were directed towards the showers. First, they cleaned themselves with regular soap to remove all of the loose dirt and oils. The water was turned off and they dried themselves. Abigail and Renee put on rubber gloves and started applying the crème to both girls. The black lid tin was used on Paula and the brown lid tin was used on Mary. It was applied liberally to every part of their bodies, including the soles of their feet. Both girls were instructed to apply it to their own nether regions and breasts, but to not place it inside themselves. Once completely covered, they had to wait five minutes before washing it off. The crème washed off rather quickly, and it seemed to Mary that less went down the drain than went on her body. Both girls did have a waxy appearance to their skin now, and their skin was the smoothest it has ever been. “Wow!” Paula exclaimed, “This stuff’s incredible! I wanna buy a gallon of it from you!” “I have to admit,” Mary added, “My skin has never felt this soft or creamy before in my life. You should sell it in your stores, Ms. Flozell.” “That’s a discussion for another time,” Renee replied. “I agree,” Becky added, “But let’s get finished here. Who needs a potty break? As soon as we start the scanning, we can’t stop for a couple of hours.” “I’ll take them both down, just to be safe,” Abigail said. “We’ll be right back.” She gave each girl a bath robe and slippers. They put them on and all three headed for the door. “Bring them back to the mannequin room,” Becky said as they started walking. “What flavor of water do you two want? Cherry, grape, fruit punch, lemonade, or watermelon?” “I’ll have the fruit punch,” Mary answered on her way out the door. Paula followed closely behind, but stopped at the door and looked back. “I’ll take vodka,” she replied. “If you don’t have that, I’ll take grape.” **************** Paula and Mary both drank down their flavored waters fairly quickly, probably now eager to get this job done. Mary definitely was no longer comfortable with doing this any more, and was going to tell Paula later that evening that she wasn’t going to continue to pursue the modelling career. This experience was not what she expected, nor wanted, and didn’t want to go through it again. Paula simply had an uneasy feeling about that scientist. She could’ve sworn that little nerdling was ogling her while she was in the shower. The faster they got out of there with their big payday, the better. As soon as the last drop was out of their respective bottles, they were directed to their stands and told to take their previous poses without the bath robes or slippers. The shower caps were to remain on. While they were down in the bathroom on the first floor, Becky and Renee had set up the scanning light towers, with four scanners to each girl. They took to their poses, then Renee took one final inspection of each girl. Satisfied, the girls were given final instructions. Now is the hardest part of all,” Becky said. “Neither one of you can move at all. Smile as long as you can and keep the blinking to a minimum. Do not speak to each other because that makes the front of your neck and most of your face move. Any movement at all will make us have to start all over again. We’re gonna leave the room to keep from distracting you, but we will be monitoring you from the lab. Good luck!” And, with that, the three women left, and closed the door behind them. A few seconds later, the red lights on the scanner towers came alive. ‘Good, almost done,’ Mary thought to herself, ‘I can do this. Fifty thousand dollars and then I’m done.’ ‘After I get my money and blow up doll,’ Paula thought to herself, ‘I’m gonna break that little dyke’s other hand. Who does she think she is? What does she think I am? What a freak!’ About ten minutes went by without either girl moving. To Mary it seemed like six months. She was starting to get antsy, as well as a little lightheaded. Her eyes were also feeling dried out, and, for some odd reason, she couldn’t shut them. ‘That’s it, I’ve had enough,’ Mary thought, ‘No amount of money is worth this hassle.’ ‘Stay put and stop talking!’ ‘Who said that?’ Mary asked in her head. She immediately believed that standing still like this had made her insane. Normal sane people don’t hear other people’s voices in their heads! ‘Who the hell do you think?!? It’s me! Paula! Now shut up before they hear you! I don’t wanna start this over!’ ‘Paula? I’m not talking out loud. This is in my head. I am officially going insane. Doing this is making me insane. Paula, if this really is you, I’m getting off this stand and going home.” Mary tried to take a step forward, but nothing happened. She tried to swing her arms forward for the momentum. Again, nothing happened. Her fear of insanity suddenly gave way to panic. ‘Stay where you are, Plain Jane! You can do this!’ ‘Paula! I can’t move at all! My body won’t move! I can’t even close my eyes! Help me! Please, help me!’ Mary went from panic to full-fledged terror. ‘AAAAHHHHH!!!! HELP ME!!!!’ ‘Mary, I can’t move or shut my own eyes too! I’m not talking! Can you hear me?!? What the fuck is going on?!?’ ‘You’re now mannequins, dip shits.’ ‘Who said that?!?’ Mary cried, ‘Please help me!!!’ ‘Yeah, help us!!!’ ‘There’s no help coming, so give it up. Quit shouting, you’re gonna give us all headaches.’ ‘Who the fuck are you?!?’ Paula demanded, ‘Why the fuck don’t you get off your ass and help us!!’ ‘I can’t help because I’m the blonde mannequin close to your friend there.’ ‘I can’t see no one! Stop fucking with me!’ ‘Wait,’ Mary whimpered, ‘The corner of my eye… shoulder length blonde hair, large breasts?’ ‘Yep, that’s me. In all of my now plastic glory.’ ‘What’s happening to us?!?’ Mary pleaded, ‘How can we talk but not move?!?’ ‘My name’s Taylor, by the way, thanks for asking. You are being turned into lifelike mannequins. The evil cunts who work here turn real live people into lifeless store window dummies for profit. They made me like this at the request of my boyfriend. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. He never came to get me. Now I’m hoping someone comes along and buys me. I’d love to be wearing something silky against my skin. Something sexy. ‘When they change you, they let you keep your mind intact. I don’t know if it’s intentional to be cruel, or if it’s just a side effect of the transition. We do however have the ability to talk to each other through telepathy. We can’t communicate with living things, but we can keep our sanity through chatting. You two are only half transformed, so the range of your telepathy will get larger. Some of these other mannequins are okay, and you’ll get to like them if you stay here long enough. ‘Another thing you’ll find is that all of your physical sensations will be increased dramatically, and I do mean dramatically. Did you ever have an orgasm from someone simply brushing by your nipple? Soon you will. Flip side is that you’ll get the same results from pain. Nothing can kill you, aside for fire or shredding, but you can feel like you were shot in the skull just by falling over. By the way, what’s the weather like outside?’ ‘Help me, God! Please Help!!!’ Mary screamed. ‘Oh, we are so fucked,’ Paula said. A little time later, the door opened and in walked Abigail, Renee, and Becky. Becky was pushing her computer table in and headed over towards Paula. “Abigail, can you please unplug these lights before I have a seizure?” Becky asked as she pushed the cart in front of the Paula mannequin. Abigail walked behind the new mannequins and the light towers went dark shortly afterwards. Becky took two electrode pads out of the drawer of the table and placed each one under both of the mannequin’s nipples. “So, Eric carried her out this morning in that box you helped him move?” Renee asked, obviously continuing a conversation from earlier. “Yep,” she replied as she continued to work on the electrodes, and now the leads from them to the computer, “I beat on her for almost a week, but didn’t penetrate her. I left her a virgin for his crew. It was great therapy for me. Now, how big did you want these?” ‘What are they doing to me now?’ Paula asked. “How about two more cup sizes? Bigger but not humongous,” Renee replied. “Leave them soft as well. The rest of the body can stay hard, but it would work out great if its tits had some bounce.” “Big and bouncy. Check.” Becky typed on her keyboard for about thirty seconds, then Paula felt a burning pressure build across her chest. It was a mix of pleasure and pain, but mostly pleasure. It gave her the greatest orgasm of her life, and she never wanted it to stop. Sadly it did, as soon as Becky pulled off the electrodes. “How’s that?” “Excellent,” Renee said quietly. She then reached out and grabbed a handful of the newly expanded tit flesh, sending another orgasm through the mannequin. “Yes, this will do nicely.” ‘Oh my God, Paula, did you just cum?!?’ Mary scolded. ‘Twice, and not by choice, but I loved every second of it. I hope someone grabs my tits again! I’ll even settle for the dyke!’ “We won’t be able to put the joints on the other one for another hour, so you up for some gin rummy?” asked Becky to Renee. “Sure,” she replied, “But first, tell me about that black mannequin back there. Do you have any more? I would like to put more ethnic looking ones in our stores. It should increase our sales in our northern stores.” “That’s the only one we have right now,” Abigail replied. “African American material is hard to come by in this town. We have to search farther away to get viable molds. If you can get your own molds, and some new molds for us, we can possibly rework our contract. I can let you have that one for five thousand.” “Deal. I’ll also take this blonde with the big tits here. It’ll look good in our automotive department, selling windshield wipers from the gap between her tits.” “Good. Let’s go do some paperwork. Becky, do you need help putting the computer away?” “Nah, I’m good. I’ll meet you in your office in a few minutes.” With that being said, all three women left the room. ‘Adding joints?’ Mary asked, ‘What do they mean by adding joints?’ ‘I don’t care,’ replied Paula, ‘I need someone to grab my tits! Please! Anybody!’ ‘So much for your friend there,’ Taylor said, ‘She’s gone now. Sucked up into the big O. I’ll be there soon, too. All those men pulling and putting things between my tits…ah I can’t wait! You, on the other hand, should be scared shitless. In order to add joints, they have to cut your body up. See these gaps between our body parts? They didn’t grow there. The cunts used a large hacksaw and cut us up. They then use plastic glue to add the pivots and hinges to the open holes that used to be our bodies so we can be posed the way they want us. They have to wait until you turn totally to hollow plastic, then they’ll begin dissecting you. It will take a few hours, and you’ll feel every tooth in the blade. First, the hole in your back for your support rod. Then the cuts begin. Three cuts in each arm, one cut in each hip, one cut across your waist, and finally the hardest cut: across your neck. Even after all of that, the worst thing that can happen is that you can’t die from it, no matter how much you wish for it. Try and be brave kiddo, and hopefully we’ll be set up in the same store.’ ‘Why me?’ Mary sobbed, ‘I never wanted to be a model to begin with!!!’

Fujiko's New Reality

Thu, 19 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Fujiko woke up early this morning in an incredibly happy mood, not because it’s Friday, but because she and her friends were going out this evening after classes to celebrate her birthday! She really turned 21 last Tuesday, but her parents, who were paying her college tuition and letting her still live at home, made it abundantly apparent that there will be no shenanigans during the school week. Her friends understood her situation, and there wasn’t any way they were going to make waves between Fujiko and her family, so they gleefully postponed the party until that Friday. It worked out better in the long run for the girls, because they could now drink to excess and hopefully find a guy without missing any classes the next morning. Fujiko just wanted the opportunity to escape her family for a few hours and have some fun! It’s not that Fujiko had a problem with her family, it’s just that they’re pressuring her to go into the family business, like her brother, Andrea. Andrea’s bachelor’s degree in business management was beginning to pay dividens on their little ‘Mom and Pop’ business in less than two years after his graduation, and the business was about to have a major expansion. To be honest, Fujiko wasn’t interested in joining the family in their work, mostly because of the ridicule she had to endure as she grew up, knowing that her family sold sex toys and erotic clothing. Her father tried on several occasions to explain to her that what they were really selling were ‘Marital Aids,’ but her uncouth schoolmates called her parents ‘Perverts,’ ‘Smut Peddlers,’ or ‘Immoral Sinners.’ Fujiko took it all in stride, and even made a few friends as she grew up. Now, here it was, Friday afternoon, and she was eager to get home. She wanted to wear her new latex cat suit she ordered online, and it was supposed to be delivered at home while she was in her morning classes. Fujiko loved the feel of latex on her skin, the tightness, the smooth texture, and even the light rubbery smell. She had worn latex jackets before, but this would be the first time wearing a complete suit, and she couldn’t wait to try it on. She had been given a ride home by one of her friends, and she rushed home to get her new outfit. The sooner she slipped it on, the sooner they could go out and party. It was already after six in the evening, and it was getting that much closer to the bar’s closing time. Only six more hours to drink, and to meet a well hung guy! Her friend parked her car by her home’s front door and then they both ran into her house. Fujiko’s family were all gathered around the dinner table and eating their supper. They knew Fujiko had late classes on Friday, so they always began without her. Also, they already knew of her plans to go out tonight, so they didn’t even bother setting a place for her. Her mother, already knowing this, couldn’t figure out why both girls rushed in like gang busters, with Fujiko tearing through the house as if she was looking for something. “Mama, did I get a package today?” Fujiko asked as she started to look under the living room furniture. “Why, yes, dear,” her mother replied, “The postman delivered it to the store today, thinking it was new merchandise. I forgot to bring it home with me. Was it important?” This reply infuriated Fujiko. It was addressed to her, so why would it be sent to the store? “Mama! That was my new outfit! I wanted to wear it tonight!” Fujiko whined like a seven year old. Her father, who couldn’t stand to see his little girl cry, simply took the store keys out of his pocket and tossed them to her. “Here, la mia piccola colomba,” her father said to her in Italian, “Get your outfit. Go, have fun with your friends, just don’t forget to reset the alarm, si?” Fujiko grabbed the keys out of the air, hugged her dad, and then ran back out the door with her friend. Then it was just a quick ride back to the family store. Fujiko quickly unlocked the door and turned off the security alarm, and then she and her friend entered the darkened store. The two of them cautiously walked down the aisles, through the darkness, towards the back where the light switches were. Normally, the sun offered enough light to open and close the store, but it was already past sundown, and it was almost pitch black in there. Fujiko was a little thankful for that because she thought the place was creepy to begin with, with all of the fake penises and inflatable dolls all over the place. She joked that the place was like Dr. Frankenstein’s lab if it was designed by Lego. The two made their way to the back room and Fujiko turned on a nearby table lamp, just inside her father’s office doorway. It illuminated the office, as well as half of the stockroom, and her brother’s work table. Her brother, aside from being an excellent accountant, was also an amateur chemist. He wanted to concoct a softer plastic to mimic human flesh to make their sex toys from, and, in the process, make a fortune on the international patent. On her brother’s table sat her package, and she ripped into it like an insane person. She tore off the wrappings and opened the box in less than ten seconds. Inside the box was a pair of shiny black latex pants with a zipper up the right thigh, a shiny seafoam green latex long sleeve turtleneck shirt with the zipper halfway up the back, a pair of shiny black palmed gloves with seafoam green fingers, and a pair of shiny black and seafoam green high heeled women’s biker boots. She immediately placed her new outfit on the table and began removing her clothes. “Y’know, these clothes are going to make you look like Shego from ‘Kim Possible,’” her friend quipped, “You better make sure you have your I.D. on you if you want to be served!” Fujiko ignored her as she stood there, fully nude, and prepared to slip into the pants. Just then, she thought of something. She dropped the pants and began to rifle through the box again. “Did Dr. Drakken forget to send you something?” her friend quipped again as Fujiko frantically searched through the box. Fujiko threw the box across the room in frustration. “Damn!” she said as she tossed the box, “They forgot the baby oil! How am I supposed to get into these tight clothes without some kind of lubricant?!?” She turned and dropped her head on the desk with a light thud in despair. “Well, you can either put your regular clothes back on, or you can go naked,” her friend said slyly, “Either way is fine with me. I always thought you had a great ass!” Her friend reached out and gave her tush a light slap, which caused Fujiko to raise her head. That’s when she saw it. On the shelf above her brother’s table was a clear glass jar filled with some white cream, almost like coconut butter. It looked like about two pints worth, and, if it was slippery, it would be just enough to cover her body so she could slip into her latex cat suit! She grabbed the jar without hesitation and stuck two fingers into the goo. It didn’t smell like coconut, nor did it have any scent, but it was viscous enough to do the job. She began to slather it onto her legs as fast as she could, going all the way up her thighs, every inch of her ass, and even into her netherregions. It went on a little cold, with a little bit of a tingle, but she didn’t mind. She picked up her new latex pants again, and, with a little help from her friend, she was able to get into the skin tight clothing. She then repeated the process for her chest and arms, going all the way up to her neck. Her friend swabbed her back by using her discarded cotton panties as a loofah, so’s not to get any of the oil on herself, and soon Fujiko was slipping into the shirt. They had a little difficulty with both zippers, but they eventually pulled them closed. Fujiko found that the pants had little hooks along the waistline that locked into the hemline of the shirt, making an almost water tight seal between them. Fujiko walked around the stockroom, trying to get a feel of the latex suit. It was tighter than her own skin, yet it felt right. It was confining, yet so freeing. She made a light sqeaking noise as she walked as her thighs rubbed together, and the sound turned her on for some reason. She walked around for about five minutes, until most of her joints worked out the stiffness of the new latex, and then she walked over closer to the light source. “How do I look?” Fujiko asked her friend as she did a little pirouette. Her friend put her hand to her chin and thought before answering. “It looks like it was painted on,” her friend replied, “I mean, it leaves little to the imagination. You might even herniate yourself if your nipples get hard, but, besides that, you look hot enough to melt glass.” Fujiko giggled in delight, and then ran over to put on her boots. She had to grease up her feet with the end of the white goo to get them on as well, but they fit her perfectly. Her hands were already greasy from applying the stuff to the rest of her body, so the gloves slipped on without any effort. She then threw the empty jar into the trash, picked up her old clothes, and then she and her friend went out to have a whole lot of fun! They went to the local night club and had the time of their lives. Every guy in the place stared breathlessly at Fujiko’s outfit, eyeing up every curve on her body, but only the bravest among them summoned up the courage to talk to her. They drank, they danced, and they even smoked a little weed. Sadly, as the night wound down, neither she or her friend found a guy worthy enough to take home. Ah, well. Sometimes you catch the fish, sometimes you don’t. Anyway, both girls bade their goodnights to their many admirers and left the club a half hour before it closed. Her friend dropped off Fujiko off at her darkened house at two thirty in the morning, and then she sped off into the night. Fujiko staggered through her front door, trying hard not to wake anyone. The store was closed on the weekends, and her family preferred to sleep in on Saturday, and she wanted to be courteous. She crept up the stairs to her room, quiet as possible despite her squeaking thighs, and closed her bedroom door behind her with a heavy, beer scented sigh. She wanted to just plop down on her bed and go to sleep, but she wanted to take her latex cat suit off before the white greasy stuff she used as lubricant dried up. If it did, she’d then have to scrape the clothes off with putty knives and spatulas. She reached over and clicked on the lamp on her vanity and then sat in the matching chair. She undid the buckles on the right boot and, with a little effort, worked her foot out of it. Her foot felt great getting out of the tight confines of the boot, and she wiggled her toes around to let the blood flow through them again. She looked at her foot and found that her skin had a bit of a shine to it, and was a minor shade darker than her normal skin. It perplexed her for a moment, but she decided to chalk it up to a mix of being drunk, having the grease still on, and the restrictive nature of her new clothes. Her skin will return to normal in the morning, after a shower and the return of normal circulation. She removed her other boot and her gloves, and those parts of skin were also the same as her foot. With her hands now free, she found that her skin was now incredibly smooth as well. She also found that there weren’t any kinds of wrinkles on her hands, and she could almost swear that her fingerprints were gone, but that’s impossible. Another thing to chalk up to being drunk. It took her several minutes to peel the shirt off of her buxomous torso. It was a lot less difficult to put the shirt on, but it was like her breasts didn’t want to let the latex go. Her nipples even felt a little funny when they hit the night air, complaining that they were no longer covered, so she did a quick inspection of herself in the mirror. Her breasts were swelling a bit, and her nipples were engorged with enough blood to make them as hard as diamonds. The skin on her chest matched her hands and feet, but it stopped where the turtleneck ended, and her face still had her normal color. She couldn’t wait until her circulation returned! She wanted to go to the beach tomorrow, and she would not look good in a bikini with her skin like this! She was able to shimmy out of her pants fairly easily, and, lo and behold, her legs matched the rest of her body. While she still sat in front of her vanity, she gathered up her new latex outfit and threw it on top of her hamper, with the intention to clean it in a few days, but she was way too tired to do it right now. All she wanted to do is to go to bed, get some sleep, and allow her body to regain its look from this morning. She stood up, in all of her nude glory, and felt like she was going to float away. She lost her balance and fell forward, but not because she was dizzy, but she felt too light for her body. It was a strange sensation, feeling like an inflated balloon, but, again, she figured it was the alcohol. She ‘Floated’ to her bed, climbed underneath the covers, and immediately fell asleep. She woke up the next day, feeling stiff all over. It took a little effort to turn her head to the clock, and found the day had slipped to a little past noon. Looking past her clock, she noticed the sun illuminating through the window around the mirror of her vanity, and the fact that she left her desk lamp on all night. She felt incredibly stupid in doing such a thing, and forced her stiff body out of bed to turn it off. She slid to the edge of the bed, threw her legs over the edge with a lot of effort, and tried to sit up. Her back and neck felt like they locked together, and that her shoulders were stuck in the resting position. She did finally sit up and, with even more effort, made it to her feet. Her hips also felt like they were locked, slightly apart to boot, and she felt like John Wayne as she strutted to her vanity. She felt like she was floating with each step, her feet barely touching the ground. She reached out to turn off the light, but her fingers seemed to be stuck together, and they wouldn’t move independently. She took a peek at her hand and found a flesh colored plastic mitten instead. Fujiko was confused at first, thinking that she was still drunk from last night. She rotated her wrist, but her whole arm turned instead, and she found what looked like a seam running up the bottom of her arm. She lifted her stiff arm to follow the seam up to her armpit, and that’s when she glanced at the mirror. The shiny, plastic looking, slightly darker skin that the rest of her body had from her clothes last nigh had somehow spread up into her face, making her lips the gaudiest ruby red she had ever seen. Her eyes looked like vacant glass eyeballs with lifeless brown irises, and her eyebrows looked like they were now fake hair. There was another seam, one that ran from her hairline at her left temple, down her cheek, under her chin, up her other cheek, up to her right temple, and disappear back behind her hairline, perfectly framing her face. The hair on her head was the same length and color as normal, but now it looked like an artificial wig. Fujiko tried to scream, but no sound came out and her lips barely moved. Her face didn’t change expression either, it still had the same peaceful look she woke up with. She began to panic as she looked down at her body. She found seams running down both sides of her ribs going down to her thighs, as well as two continuous seams surrounding both of her now enormous breasts. Her nipples were now permanently erect and made of dark pink plastic. Her legs looked like they were spreading apart slowly, and she seemed to be beginning to stand on her toes, although her toes had looked like they merged into extensions of her feet. She quickly realized that she had to do something, and do it fast. One quick look into the mirror again and she saw her mouth was beginning to open into a strange position. Fujiko hobbled as fast as she could out of her room, still completely naked, and heard her parents downstairs. She did her best to navigate the stairs, but ended up sliding down the railing. Her joints were locking up fast, and she was running out of time. She reached the first floor and tried screaming for help, but, again, she made no sound. She hobbled into the living room where her parents were sitting, watching a soccer match on the TV. Her mother saw her as she entered the room. “Oh, my God, Fujiko, what happened to you?!?” her mother screamed as she sprang from her seat in horror. Fujiko’s legs had finally locked into their new permanent position, and she could no longer maintain her balance. Her mother grabbed her around her waist, and Fujiko made an airy, squeaky noise like a dog’s chew toy. Her father got up to help his wife and daughter. “Fujiko, what’s wrong?” her father asked as her mother tried to sit her down in a nearby chair. Her stiffened body was pliable, like an inflatable pool toy, but it sprung back into it’s original shape when the pressure was released, so she rested on the very top of the chair and the very edge of the seat. The entire time, Fujiko kept on waving her plastic hands all over the parts of the body her stiffening frame could still reach. “Piccola colomba, we don’t understand!” her father said as he took her hand, making her give off another plastic like squeak. While this was going on, her mouth kept on contorting, and it was soon in the shape of a large O. “What’s going on?” Andrea asked as he entered the room, carrying a large bowl of nachos and cheese. Fujiko heard him come in, and she immediately began to pointing a plastic mitten at him. Andrea froze in surprise and dropped his bowl, letting it crash to the floor all over his shoes. He then rushed over to his sister and grabbed her other hand, just in time for her arms to stop moving. He immediately surmized what had happened. “Fuji,” Andrea asked his sister, “Did you dump that jar of white gel above my desk at the store onto yourself?” His question wasn’t what happened, but it was close enough for Fujiko to answer yes. So, with her last ounce of free movement, she nodded her plastic head in agreement. Andrea closed his eyes tight in despair, and then lowered his head. “What? What happened?!?” their father demanded. Andrea stood up, stepped back, and took a full look at his sister. She now looked like an inflatable sex doll, complete with open vagina, anus, and mouth, waiting for a willing penis. Her legs were spread open for easy access, and her arms were slightly bent up to give her patron a loose hug. “My artificial skin,” Andrea said under his breath, “She found my artificial skin formula.” Both of their parents looked confused. “I was working on a new kind of latex skin, one that felt more like human skin,” Andrea continued, “I was going to use it first on a new type of sex doll, but then offer it as a medical replacement for burn patients, after I worked out all of the bugs. It’s a mix of chemicals and nanites right now, and it was supposed to harden into latex when it was spread two centimeters thick, but it wouldn’t harden. I was going to work on it some more next week, but she must’ve dumped it onto herself!” Their father immediately grabbed his daughter with another loud squeak and carried her towards the front door. “Come!” he yelled to the rest of the family, “To the store!” The family climbed into the car and sped off to the store. Their father reasoned that if Andrea did this, even if inadvertently by accident. then he can undo it, so they needed to be where Andrea did his work. Their mother asked why Fujiko was so light, and Andrea explained that the nanites were programmed to be used to make inflatable sex toys, so they had to have converted Fujiko’s internal organs into either oxygen or some other natural gas. Their father and mother really didn’t care about any of that, they only wanted their daughter back to normal. They reached the store, and they all hurried inside, with Andrea carrying his sister. They rushed into the back so fast, they forgot to lock the door behind them. Andrea, knowing his limited space to work, placed Fujiko on the counter near the register, and then rushed into the back himself to begin working. Fujiko was now alone, laying on top of the counter, resting right against a pyramid display of factory made sex dolls neatly folded in their display boxes. She was looking out across the store, having a stuck line of vision, and saw all of the depraved things the perverts of the world would buy. She was a little envious of the size of the dildoes on the shelf across on the other wall. She would love to find a guy with a cock that big! Just looking of it made her plastic pussy ache for some attention. She stayed there, by herself, listening to her family move around in the back room, occasionally arguing about what they should do next. Fujiko was wondering if she would ever be normal again, in spite of the Three Stooges that were her family, and she began to think that what happened to her really wasn’t all that bad. As long as they change her back in time for her college finals, she could stay like this for a while. Ding Ding!! Fujiko was interrupted by the entrance bell on the door. She couldn’t see who came in, but she did hear three different male voices. “I thought they were closed on the weekend,” one voice said. “Maybe they changed them,” Another voice added. “Who cares?” a third voice argued, “If we can find one good enough, this’ll be the best rush party ever!” Fujiko heard what all three of them, and immediately understood what they were talking about. A ‘Rush Party’ is a college fraternity razing party, where they make this years pledges perform humiliating and disgusting stunts to prove their loyalty to the fraternity. The question is, what were they in here for? “Look at that one, over there on the counter!” the second voice exclaimed, and then Fujiko heard hurried footsteps rush over to her. Suddenly, three well built men in their early twenties sprang into her view. They all had blue blazers on, with three familiar greek letters embroidered over their hearts. Fujiko recognized the fraternity letters, and she shuddered. The frat they’re from is known to be full of sexual predators, the kind of guys that won’t take ‘No’ for an answer. One of the three reached up and grabbed one of Fujiko’s tits and gave it a nice, firm squeeze. She gave out another little squeak, but despite the coldness of someone nonchalantly grabbing her boob, she loved how his hand felt. It surprised her more than anyone that the sensation turned her on to no end! “Hey, you gotta feel this!” the guy who felt her up exclaimed, “It don’t feel like plastic!” He gave her tit another squeeze, and Fujiko shuddered in sexual excitement. One of the other men grabbed her other tit, while the third one slid two fingers into her open vagina. Their touches drove Fujiko up the wall in ecstacy, and she suddenly had an intense orgasm. Unfortunately, her inflated body had no outward reaction. “May I help you three?” Fujiko heard her father sternly ask as she heard two sets of footsteps approach along the rear of the counters, “Please take your hands off of the merchandise,” she heard her mother say from the same direction as her father. All three men quickly retracted their hands from her body, to her heartfelt dismay, and took two steps back. “Yes, how much for this inflatable doll?” The man who had his fingers in Fujiko’s pussy asked as he pointed at her. She felt slightly aghast at his question, but strangely excited when he asked. “That one is not for sale,” she heard her father, who was still behind her by the cash register, “But we do have a wide selection of other inflatable sexual companions available…” “No,” one of the other frat boys interrupted, “We want that one, the Asian looking one with the lifelike plastic skin and huge tits.” Fujiko had another mixed burst of disgust and excitement. “Gentlemen, I’m sorry, but this particular one is not for sale,” Fujiko’s mother insisted. “Five hundred Euros for it, cash money,” the first frat boy exclaimed as he reached for his wallet. Fujiko’s heart jumped. She knew that the most expensive sex doll they sell in the store is almost one third of the five hundred Euros the guy just offered. She would be blushing with erotic pride if she could. “No!” her father reiterated. “Seven hundred,” the frat boy upped his price. “You boys don’t understand, we can’t sell you this one!” her mother immediately replied sternly. “One thousand Euros,” the frat boy exclaimed as he pulled five two hundred Euro bills from his wallet. Fujiko was waiting for her father to throw all three men from his store, but all she heard was silence. After an incredibly long brief moment, her father spoke up. “Will you three give us a moment, please?” he said, and then Fujiko heard some scuffling feet followed by muffled whispers. Apparently, her parents had backed away to talk privately. Are they actually thinking of selling their daughter as a sex toy? The thought infuriated Fujiko, but the thought of it excited her into another orgasm. She felt a little lucky that her new plastic body doesn’t show any signs of her cumming because the embarrasment of her parents watching her undulate while in the throes of orgasm on their store counter would make her want to die! As the waves of pleasure slowly faded from her plastic body, she heard her parents return to the counter behind her. “Gentlemen,” Fujiko heard her mother start in a professional manner, “Sadly, we still can not sell this particular doll. However, we can let you rent it for one thousand Euros a day, or fifteen hundred for the remainder of the weekend.” The three guys faces all lit up with joy, and they started to high five each other. Fujiko’s parents and the three men agreed to terms on the rental, to both her dismay and horny excitement. What they worked out was that the three men would sign a hastily written contract that Andrea typed up, agreeing to take extreme care of the Fujiko sex toy, but use it in any sexual way they wished. They were forbidden to write, burn, mark, scuff, or mar it any way shape or form. They were also forbidden to release its air or to add any more. They were to use it only as it is intended, and they were to clean it up before they return it, which was to be before ten AM Monday morning. They had to leave their student IDs, drivers licenses, and the one guy had to leave the registration for his car as a deposit, which they would get back once the sex doll was returned. If, by chance, any damage is done to the sex doll, specified or not specified in the contract, each of the three would be liable for two hundred and fifty thousand Euros, totaling seven hundred and fifty thousand, owed to the sex doll’s shop of origin. All three horny college frat boys read the contract and willingly signed it. An hour later, Fujiko was being carried into the frat house where the party had already started. The house was full of college kids, some who Fujiko knew. All of the frat members were there with their girlfriends on their arms, drinking down cheap beer and liquor, mulling about the place and laughing or belittling the frat’s pledges. The eight pledges were ordered to stand in the center of the main hall, wearing nothing but their underwear and socks. To add to their humiliation, they were also wearing women’s sun bonnets. “Hey, Everyone! The guest of honor is here!” the one frat guy who paid for Fujiko yelled as he entered the room, and he held her naked, plastic body up for all to see. Everyone there cheered as if they had met a long lost friend, and held up their glasses up as a toast to her. Fujiko was a little scared about what was going to happen next, but deep down she hoped that someone would just fuck her. “Attention, Pledges!” the man holding Fujiko announced, “In order to prove that you’re worthy to carry on our frat’s high standards as men, you are all going to show all of us that you know how to satisfy a woman! So, in order to do that, you are all going to please our beautiful guest here, with all of us watching, and you’re going to do it three times! If you can’t fire three loads into our volunteer here, then pack up your shit and leave! Understand?” Everyone there cheered again over the announcement. Fujiko was held out in front of the eight underwear clad men, and she saw fear in their eyes. She also saw boners in some of their drawers, and, if her pussy could become wet again, her legs would have little streams of fluid down to her knees. One of the pledges reached out and cautiously took Fujiko around the waist. He lifted her up slowly, and then gently began to suck on one of her plastic nipples. The sensation was exquisite, more intense than any other time her nipple had been sucked before. She didn’t know if it was because she now had a plastic nipple or if she was that incredibly turned on, but Fujiko almost passed out from the pleasure. Suddenly, she felt another hand on her ass, and it slowly worked its way to her gaping plastic asshole. Her fixed vision wouldn’t let her see who it was, but she did notice it was someone with experience handling asses. She felt three fingers dive into her ass, and then slowly retreat, and then plunge back in again, and Fujiko loved every minute of it. The room went silent as everyone watched two of the pledges begin to molest Fujiko. One was sucking on her nipple while another was playing with her ass. She felt another hand slip around from behind her, probably the second guy’s other hand, and it slowly made its way to her clit. It began tapping out a gibberish morse code message to her brain, and she instantly had another, yet more intense, orgasm. This one lasted quite a while, and she reveled every second of it. As the pleasure slowly rolled away, the boy sucking her nipple took a big bite on her tit, and it caused her to squeak like a mouse on helium. The silence of the moment broke, and everyone started laughing! The faux pas was not noticed by the two pledges, however. The first one was now turned on enough to want to fuck, so he lowered his underwear with one hand. The second guy noticed what the first one was doing, so he released his grip on Fujiko’s clit and lowered his own underwear. With two quick, simultaneous thrusts, both pledges shoved their hard cocks into both of Fujiko’s pussy and asshole, respectively. They weren’t the biggest dicks she ever had, but they both made her cum again instantly. The boys began thrusting, first together, but slowly reverting to a tandem piston thrusting motion. Fujiko didn’t care what pace they took. She was still cumming from when they first put their cocks into her. She wished to God that she could contract either one of her holes to make them tighter, enhancing the pleasure for the boys that were fucking her brains out. The two men stopped, to Fujiko’s disappointment, but this was only a brief respite. She found that the guy fucking her ass had laid down on the floor and was already pulling her back to fuck her ass some more. The guy pounding her pussy got down on his knees and re-entered her once the guy on the ground had already started thrusting again. She was now laying on top of one guy with the other on top of her, and they were both going like adrenaline jacked up rabbits. Fujiko had resumed her constant state of orgasm as they pounded her lower holes, but now their hands were free to play with her tits. Each grab elicited another little squeak, and the absolute pleasure was driving her insane. She never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined anyone could feel this blissful! However, she didn’t expect what was going to happen next. Fujiko’s vision was now spinning from the ultimate amount of pleasure no other human could ever endure. She was in a Moebius orgasm, a continuous state of cumming, no respite in sight let alone requested. Through her climaxed induced drunken sight, she was able to hallucinate another huge cock headed straight for her nose. She giggled at the thought of it, but then she felt the warm, fleshy knob of another cock against her O shaped lips, and then a sudden thrust of a dick down her throat. She felt a set of balls hit her chin, and throbbing veins of a hot, hard shaft driving in and out of her mouth. Another pledge had decided to get in on the action, and chose to get a blowjob from Fujiko. Her pleasure senses were in overdrive before, but now they were into hyperdrive! It was at this point that Fujiko lost all her senses of reality. Wave upon wave of pleasure assaulted her body, and it got to the point where she was in ecstacy overload. The best way to describe it is when a hard narcotics addict does enough of their chosen drug past the point of normal use but below the point of overdose. This is basically happened to Fujiko’s mind. She was joyfully led into a state of pure bliss, and the rest of the real world melted away. She did have an occasional flash of what was happening to her, like when one of the other pledges wrapped her inflated hand around his cock for an impromptu hand job. She vaguely remembers one pledge using her hair like reins as he plowed her from behind. She has a hazy vision of one of the girls at the party pulled up her shirt in front of the sex doll and stuffed her tit into Fujiko’s open mouth. Stranger still, she thinks someone was licking her well fucked plastic pussy for some time, but she didn’t know if it was a boy or girl. Fujiko didn’t regain her senses until the next day, when she awoke to find herself on someone’s bed in a dorm room. Although her mouth couldn’t move, she was still able to taste and her mouth tasted like a mix of beer, salty semen, and rubbing alcohol. She was propped up, but all she could see was a door, the bottom half of the bed she was on, and part of a dresser. She had no idea what the time was, but the sun was a little dim through the window. She wasn’t entirely sure what had happened yesterday, aside from miniscule bits and pieces she remembered, but she did feel the most sexually satisfied she had ever felt before. She was basking in her afterglow when the door in front of her opened, and in walked the frat boy who fingered her pussy in her parent’s store. “Well, baby, I guess it’s you and me until tomorrow!” he said as he closed the door behind him and immediately began to remove his clothes. Fujiko’s heart skipped a beat in anticipation, knowing that she was going to be fucked unmercilessly in a few seconds. Her heart almost stopped completely when the guy removed his trousers, and she saw one of the largest human cocks she had ever seen. It was already fully erect, and it must have been eleven inches long and almost three inches in circumfrence! The guy put his knee on the bed, grabbed Fujiko by her foot, and pulled her closer to him, and so she was now flat on her back. The man pounced on top of her and shoved his cock inside her pussy. Fujiko went into another instant orgasm, but they guy wasn’t finished. He snaked his arms around her sides, ran his hands up her back, and grabbed hold of the top of her shoulders. And, with a fast, open mouth face dive to her tits, he began to fuck away on the plastic sex doll with all of his might. It was incredible, and Fujiko loved every minute of it, but it wasn’t the same as last night. She was having several back to back orgasms, yes, however it wasn’t like when she had all three of her holes plugged at once. She rode each of her orgasms with reckless abandon, savoring every millimeter of the guy’s cock as he went to town in her. She never wanted it to end, but, without any warning, the guy suddenly shot his semen inside her plastic pussy. She didn’t have the chance to feel any of her admirers cum inside her yesterday, and she wished she did. Feeling his hot baby batter paint her interior womb was another incredibly orgasmic sensation for her, and she almost passed out again. As most women will attest, once a man reaches orgasm, he usually has no longer need for the woman. This guy is no exception, especially the fact that his current woman is a piece of plastic. He shot his load, pistoned out the rest of the erection, and then unceremoneously rolled off of Fujiko. She didn’t have the chance to finish off her own last, most intense orgasm of the afternoon, and this limp dick was done. It wasn’t long before he was snoring, and she was laying there, frustrated, and no way for her to take matters into her own hands. Fujiko was eventually able to fall asleep, although having permanently open eyes and an insensitive jerk snoring next to her. She was awoken the next morning by cold water splashing all over her body, snapping her out of her slumber in the most vile way. She was able to focus enough to find herself in some kind of communal shower, and she was surrounded by a bunch of guys that looked like the frat pledges from earlier. They were all naked and wet around her, and they were all armed with toothbrushes. The eight boys were scrubbing her body clean with the toothbrushes, and they covered every inch of her. They even scrubbed out her three orifices, which unexpectedly gave her yet another orgasm, and one of the guys even shampooed her wiglike hair. Once the frat brother supervising them was satisfied that Fujiko was clean, he ordered the pledges to dry her off and put a white tericloth robe on her, and then put her back in the main hall. The pledges did what they were told, and they leaned Fujiko up against a sofa in the same room she was literally screwed senseless a short time ago. Seeing the room made her a bit wistful and teary-eyed, knowing how much physical pleasure she had here, and wondered if she would ever hit that height of sexual bliss again. This made her pussy tingle, and now she wanted to be fucked again by anybody with a hard cock. Sadly, the three frat boys who ‘Rented’ her in the first place came into the room, picked her up, and carried her back out to a waiting car. After a short ride, they were all back at Fujiko’s parent’s store. The store was open for business like any other Monday morning, and the three men carried her in. The door’s entry bell dinged, and her parents came to the register from the back room. The guys removed the white robe from her and put her naked form on the counter. She was in the same position she was in when she was first rented, facing away from her family and looking out across the store. “Welcome back, gentlemen,” Fujiko’s mother greeted the three boys, “How was your weekend?” All three of them chuckled out loud. “Ma’am, that was the best fifteen hundred Euros I’ve ever spent!” the first frat boy gleefully cheered, “We had a ball with this doll! Everyone used her, and no one complained! In fact, some of our brothers used her more than twice!” Fujiko was astounded when she heard that! Did she really get fucked by the whole frat house, and some more than two times? It wasn’t so much the quantity of cocks that were inside her that bothered her, it was the fact that it felt sooo good that she couldn’t remember most of it! Fujiko let her mind drift, resavoring the weekend of sexual submission and multiorgasmic induced amnesia, completely ignoring the rest of her family’s transaction with the other three men. She laid there on the counter, trying as hard as she can to remember how many cocks fucked her, aside from the eight pledges obviously, and how each one added to her blissful state. Then one of the frat boys said something that brought her back to the here and now. “How much for me to rent her for Wednesday night?” Fujiko’s life has never been the same since that one Friday that she wanted to celebrate her birthday. Being transformed into a latex plastic sex doll had become both a blessing and a curse for her. Her family had found it incredibly lucriative to rent her out, and there were hundreds of horny perverts that gladly handed over the Euros to fuck her for the night, or over several nights. Fujiko loved being fucked by every cock that entered any of her three holes, and she loved being banged into blissful oblivion on a near daily basis. The downside was that she couldn’t complain, refuse someone, laugh at a small cock, or request which hole of hers would be fucked first. And, worse of all, she couldn’t move. Her family became blinded by the money they made off of Fujiko almost overnight. Andrea, who had spent the first weekend of her transformation tirelessly searching for a way to reverse the process, instead found ways to upgrade her. He put a hole where her belly button used to be and installed an inflation valve. This way, she could be completely deflated and cleaned more easily, mostly by her mother throwing her into the washing machine. He also reinforced her seams, making sure they could hold more air pressure, ensuring that her holes would seem tighter. Her father began a tasteful advertising campaign, having a photographer taking pictures of her in various states of dressed and undressed poses, specifying to the public that she was a sex doll, the most realistic ever created, and it was one of a kind. The ad specified that the doll was for rent only, and that all interested had to sign an extremely stringent contract to rent her. The ad campaign became an overnight sensation, and perverted men came from all over the country and the continent to spend the night with her. Soon, Fujiko was booked nearly every day, in more demand than most pop musicians. Her family even stopped calling her by name, referring to her as ‘It.’ Thanks to her, however, the family decided not to expand, and to keep only their humble little sex shop. She has made the family into millionaires, so they no longer had to think about the hassle of more stores. Fujiko now gets blissfully fucked on average every twelve hours, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Her family loves the money their prize fuck doll brings in. And everybody is happy.

The Sex Dolly Factory

Thu, 01 Feb 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1: The Special Order

Sylvia was excited for the first time in almost six months. She has been unemployed for that whole time, but it really wasn’t her fault. She was working as a secretary for a stock broker for two years, and she loved doing it, but the man took early retirement and she was transferred to a senior vice president for the company. He was married and in his mid-fifties, and a complete pig. From the first day she started, he was making advances toward her. She had to keep telling him no in a very polite manner, but he persisted nonetheless. As the days went by, he began making lewder and more crude comments, going so far as to offering her a raise for a blowjob on a regular basis. Besides the fact that she believes blowjobs are degrading to women and refuses to do them for any of the boyfriends she’s had in the past, there’s no way she was going to be treated as a whore. After three weeks of putting up with his advances, she quit and got a lawyer the next day. It’s the $15 million dollar lawsuit that is pending against the pig is what’s preventing her from getting another job. This leads her to today. She had placed her resume all over the internet, on every job searching website, and any place else that would take it. Finally, she received a phone call yesterday afternoon from an Abigail Gillen, owner of the Exclusive Products Company, a factory that made custom dolls and mannequins. Ms. Gillen asked her if she would like to come in for an interview as a customer service representative and personal assistant. Sylvia didn’t hesitate and jumped at the offer! She was told to be at the offices the next morning at 9 AM, and not to bring any cell phones or recording equipment. The explanation was that all of Exclusive Products items and manufacturing processes were proprietary, and there would be no interview if she even had one of them with her. The directions to the offices weren’t that hard to follow. It was a simple but long bus ride to the end of the line at an industrial complex, then a 20 minute walk to the correct building. She didn’t mind the travel, or the walk, because it was such a beautiful day. Besides, the exercise will be her reason not to go to the gym tomorrow. She did miscalculate the travel time however and still arrived almost 30 minutes early. The building looked about 30 years old, and had what looked like four floors. There were no windows anywhere to be seen with the exception of the glass front double doors, and even those were heavily tinted. She strained her eyes trying to look through the tint, but she couldn‘t make out anything inside. ‘Exclusive Products Co.’ was written in white block letters on the left door. The parking lot was rather small, with about 15 spaces available plus one that was reserved for the owner. A sign to the right of the doors read ‘Deliveries & Pickups’ with an arrow pointing around the right side of the building. She didn’t have to wait long though. About 10 minutes later, an older model Mercedes in near sale floor condition rolled up and parked in the ‘Reserved For Ms. Gillen’ spot by the door where she was standing. The engine stopped, and out climbed an attractive slender woman who looked in her mid-forties. She stood around five foot eight inches, had shapely hips, thin waist, and about a 34DD breast size. She was wearing a blue business suit, white blouse, and shoes with low heels. Her light brown hair was wrapped up in a bun on the top of her head. She reached into the back seat and pulled out a briefcase. She hit the fob alarm for her car then turned to Sylvia. Sylvia was thinking that her own looks might intimidate this older woman, for she was five foot six inches tall, long natural blonde hair, 38DD breast size, a soft but athletic build, flawless skin, and was wearing 4 inch heels to accentuate her build, but that made her appear taller. She really needed this job, and she decided to be as humble as possible, as well as some very minor self degrading for effect. She also quickly turned away and tried to button her own blouse all the way up to cover her cleavage. “Hello!,” Ms. Gillen said warmly as Sylvia turned back around to face her. She extended her hand in friendship and asked, “I’m guessing you’re Sylvia Farrel, am I correct?” “Um, yes, hi!,” Sylvia meekly replied, “I hope you don’t mind that I’m early do you? I like to be at all of my appointments a little early.” She reached out and took the other woman’s hand and weakly shook it. It gave the appearance that she was nervous, although she wasn’t in the least. Another ‘humble’ tactic. “No, not at all. I don’t see another car here. Did you get a ride?,” Ms. Gillen asked, as she simultaneously looked around the parking lot while she walked towards the front doors with the key extended. Sylvia turned to follow her and replied, “I took the bus. I had to sell my car a month ago to pay the rent on my apartment, and I didn’t have enough time to set up a ride for today.” “I’m sorry to hear that, dear,” Ms. Gillen said as she unlocked the right door. “Hopefully we can remedy that in short order.” She opened the door only wide enough for herself to squeeze through. “Would you mind waiting out here for a minute, Ms. Farrel, while I turn off the alarm?” “Sure. Like I said, I’m the one who’s here early.” Ms. Gillen smiled then slipped pass the door, quickly closed and locked it behind herself. It took five minutes for her to return and let Sylvia in. “My apologies, Ms. Farrel” Ms. Gillen said as she let Sylvia in. “The sensor on the factory floor keeps going bonkers, and it makes it difficult to disarm the alarm. The alarm company is supposed to be here on Monday to fix it.” “That’s okay, and please call me Sylvie.” Another tactic. Allowing a supervisor to call you by your childhood nickname gives them a false sense of authority. “All right, Sylvie it is! Please, call me Abigail,” Ms. Gillen replied. She held the glass door open wide so Sylvia could enter. She did a quick-step past her soon to be boss before she could change her mind. Beyond the door was a small white painted waiting room with four chairs and a coffee table. The carpet was dark black and was wall to wall. On the opposite side of the room was another door made of metal with a heavy deadbolt lock on it. Next to that door was a buzzer on the wall with a sign reading ‘Ring For Assistance.’ There was a clipboard with some papers attached to it and a pen sitting on the coffee table. “Now, Sylvie,” Abigail said as she locked the front door and walked around Sylvia, “I’m going to have you sign these confidentiality papers and liability forms. This is both a warehouse and a factory, so I need temporary medical coverage in case anything should happen to you here today during the interview. Also, there’s the agreement that you will not divulge anything you see here today to any outside party. Strictly legal documents to protect my company. Also, I’ll need you to empty out your purse and all of your pockets onto the table.” “Why?” “To see if you have any cell phones or cameras on you.” “Oh, yeah, right. You did say that.” Sylvia proceeded to empty her purse. None of her clothes had any pockets. She picked up the clip board and filled them all out as Abigail searched her belongings. She handed over the clipboard with the completed forms and started to refill her purse. “One moment, please,” Abigail said in an authoritative tone. “I need to frisk you.” “Excuse me?” Sylvia looked at her with surprise. “Part of the confidentiality agreement you just signed. I need to check to see if you have any hidden cameras or microphones on you. Please lift your arms out parallel and spread your legs.” With a puzzled look on her face, Sylvia slowly did what she was told. She understood what the older woman meant, but why didn’t she just use a metal detector? It could only mean one of two things: Either their current metal detector is not working or this lady is a lesbian. Either way, she needed a job, any job, no matter how humiliating the interview is, and that this isn’t done on a regular basis. Abigail swiftly touched every inch of Sylvia’s body through her clothes, including her groin, butt crack and breasts. She used a gentle but firm hand, and didn’t seem to enjoy doing it at all. While down around her ankles, she asked Sylvia to step out of her shoes so she could inspect them as well. She didn’t stop at any particular body part for too long, and was complete in under a minute. “Thank you, Sylvie,” Abigail said as she stood back up. She took her keys out of her pocket and headed towards the metal door across the room. “Once you get your things together, we’ll go to my office.” Sylvia eagerly scooped all of her things back into her purse without any order. She headed over to where Abigail was, and, as she unlocked the door and held it open, the young blonde walked in with a spring in her step and smile on her face. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind both of them. ********* The two women walked down a short but wide hallway that had two single doors on the left side and one set of plastic swinging doors at the other end. The hallway was also white with black carpet. A light humming noise could be heard coming from the fluorescent lights. Abigail led Sylvia to the first door on the left. “In here, please,” she asked as she opened the door to let Sylvia in. The room was roughly 12 feet wide and 15 feet long. There was a desk with a computer monitor on the far wall. A large backed chair sat behind it and two upholstered chairs in front of it. The wall across from the door had a row of filing cabinets. In the middle of the room was a small wooden table with four matching chairs. A couple of binders were on the table, all labeled ‘Product Line’ with various years on them. All around the rooms were plastic floor plants, and on the walls hung framed prints of kittens. “Have a seat,” Abigail motioned to one of the upholstered chairs. Sylvia took to the chair in rapid fashion, trying to exude eagerness. She sat upright with her knees together and her purse on her lap across her legs, trying to hide her breasts and hips. She tried to keep a smile on her face that wasn’t over the top but not looking forced. Abigail went around the desk and sat down. She opened up a folder and started skimming the papers inside. Peeking up, Sylvia noticed that it was a copy of her resume that she uploaded on one of the job sites. Abigail picked up a pen and jotted down some notes on the various pages as she went along. After a few minutes, she looked up at Sylvia. “Why did you leave your last job?” “Oh, boy,” Sylvia replied as the smile disappeared from her face. “I’m going to tell you the truth. My previous employer kept making unwanted sexual advances at me. He wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer.” “Oh, My!” “When he demanded oral sex from me, I left and hired a lawyer.” “Really?!?” “Yes. And a good thing too. The lawyer found another secretary that he did the same thing to, and if we can get her to testify, we’ll have an open and shut case. The thing is, until the lawsuit is settled, I have no income to live on.” “I’m sorry to hear that, Sylvie,” Abigail said with a sigh as she slumped back in her chair with disgust. “Between you and me, I hope you nail his tush to the wall.” She flashed the younger woman a devilish smile. Sylvia gave a light chuckle “I will!” “Well, your resume looks great. You have everything I’m looking for as a personal assistant. You have a pleasantly lilting voice, so that will be an advantage when talking with clients on the phone.” Abigail took a small notepad from the top drawer of her desk and pulled off a sheet of paper. She wrote something down on it, folded it in half, and slid it over to Sylvia across the desk. “Here’s what I can offer you in the form of a salary,” She said, but she didn’t remove her hand from the slip of paper. “However, before you look at this, I have to let you know something. Here at Exclusive Products, our main source of income is the manufacturing and selling of sexual devices. More specifically, sex dolls. We import them from overseas as well as having our own factory. The ones we make here are considered some of the best in the world, and they fetch incredibly high prices. Our methods in making them are a well guarded secret. We also make mannequins, but there are more horny perverts in the world than there are stores. I have to ask you right now: Would selling such items make you uncomfortable?” Sylvia sat there with a blank look on her face. Could she really sell sex toys? She wouldn’t even be here if she was able handle one old perverted pig, so how would she manage with them on a daily basis? Then she thought for a moment. Her body could work to her advantage this way. She could wear the most revealing business attire she could find. The perverts would be so turned on by just looking at her, they’ll have to buy a doll just to get their rocks off! An extremely wide grin ran across her face. “Yes, I think I can do that.” “Good!” Abigail let go of the paper and Sylvia opened it. The number written down there shocked her. Her eyes got as big as saucers and her mouth hung agape. “Seventy Five Thousand Dollars?!?,” she exclaimed. “Just to help you sell sex toys?!?” “Yes,” Abigail replied as she sat back down in her chair. “Plus a percentage commission when you help close a sale. Interested?” “When Can I Start?!?” “Tomorrow, but first I’ll give you a tour of our operation. Do you have time for that today?” Sylvia jumped out of the chair like she was sitting on a spring. She was smiling so hard that her cheeks turned red and started hurting a little. “I would be delighted! The more I learn today, the easier the transition is tomorrow!” “That’s the spirit!,” Abigail replied with a grin of her own as she stood up. She reached out her hand again as she walked around the desk to Sylvia, who was literally bouncing with excitement. They shook hands again, but this time Sylvia lost her composure and shook Abigail’s hand vigorously. She winced a little as her wrist was wrenched in more ways than it was supposed to, and, upon noticing the discomfort, Sylvia let go abruptly. “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!,” She quickly said in succession, “Please excuse my excitement! Oh, wow! This is triple my last job paid me! I feel a little light headed!” “That’s understandable, dear,” Abigail said as she shook the pain from her wrist. “You jumped up a little too fast. Breathe a little bit and compose yourself. I’ll take you to the break room. I keep the fridge stocked with assorted flavored waters for the employees.” Sylvia came to her senses in short order and, with a little help with balance from Abigail, walked out of her office. They turned left and went to the next door over. Inside was a well lit room with three round tables, about two dozen chairs, a table with two microwaves, and an industrial size refrigerator. “Here we go,” Abigail said as she helped Sylvia to a chair. “By the way, I can’t help noticing your blouse. It’s beautiful. ‘Vera Wang‘?” “Versace. Real silk. I made my last boyfriend get it for me two years ago. I think he’s still paying for it.” Abigail nodded, smiled, then walked over to the fridge. She opened both doors wide so all of the contents were displayed. There were a few brown bags, clear containers of liquid, and thermal lunch boxes on the left side and the right side was stocked with sealed 20 ounce plastic bottles of flavored water. “What flavor would you like?” “ Cherry, if you don’t mind.” Abigail pulled out a cherry, closed up the fridge, then walked it over to Sylvia. She made short order of the bottle’s seal and gulped down one quarter of it’s contents. She lowered the bottle from her lips with a gasp of air. “Mmmm,’ She said, “This stuff is good. If I can have this every day, I’ll consider it a major perk!” She lifted the bottle up again and took another swig. “Now, if you’re ready, we can star the tour. You can bring your drink if you want. The warehouse can get hot during the day.” “I’m ready when you are!,” Sylvia replied without hesitating. She stood up and walked over to Abigail. Both women then walked out of the break room, turned left, and went through the plastic double doors. **********

The Sex Dolly Factory

Thu, 01 Feb 2018 00:00:00 +0000

story continues from part one

Part 2: Care and Maintenance

The Sex Dolly Factory

Thu, 01 Feb 2018 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory)

Part 2: Care and Maintenance

It’s only 10:30 in the morning and Abigail Gillen, owner and operator of “Exclusive Products Company”, has had an extremely profitable day. She had just sold off a grade 4 sex dolly that she literally made earlier that day for five hundred thousand dollars. The owner didn’t want the dolly’s voice modulator programmed or anything; he started testing it right there on the warehouse floor. The man was so excited to have the doll made out of the greedy little whore who was suing him, and the company he works for, for $15 million dollars just because he was complimenting her on her appearance, that he couldn’t wait to take it home. As he was having his dolly perform oral sex, Abigail was in her office attending some paperwork. The man gave her a briefcase full of money, and she quickly but diligently counted it and made sure all of the bills were real. Upon finding everything satisfactory, she closed the briefcase and took it over to the rows of filing cabinets on the other side of her office. She placed a key in the lock at the top of the middle file cabinet, turned it, then pulled on the second drawer down. The whole cabinet slid away from the wall on metal runners, far enough to gain access to the floor safe underneath it. She opened the safe and placed the briefcase inside, closed it, then slid the filing cabinet back into place. The key was removed and then she side-stepped to the next cabinet over on the right. She opened up the top drawer of this cabinet and pulled out a sealed manila envelope with the words “Care & Maintenance of Deluxe Dolls.” The packet was only about ¼ inch thick. She carried it back to her desk and started up her desktop computer. She went over to the break room, the next room over, and poured herself a cup of coffee while her computer warmed up. She returned, sat down, entered her password, then started to print a combination invoice and receipt for the man’s purchase. The printer was in the bottom drawer of her desk. It printed up in a standard, easy to read format, and she gathered it and the envelope together then started back for the warehouse floor. This whole time in her office took a little over 20 minutes. As soon as she opened the doors to the warehouse she was hearing the man grunting loudly. He was over by the packaging tables with his dolly still on the floor, its head pinned against the edge of the table as he was thrusting his penis violently inside its oral cavity. ‘Sylvia was right,’ Abigail thought to herself, ‘This man is a pig.’ She walked towards the man, making several “Ahem” noises as she got closer, but he was not acknowledging her. He was on a mission, obviously attempting to reach his goal. She was able to see that the man had both hands on the dolly’s head for balance, and heard the proper sucking sounds coming from the oral cavity. She was relieved with this because the man showed up too early and she didn’t have enough time to finish the procedure with the doll. The doll didn’t have any moisture added to it before its first use, only the moisture that was still there from the completion of the transformation process. After she took three more steps closer she realized why it didn’t matter. The man had a small penis, probably only five inches long erect. She had to stifle a giggle. Suddenly, the man gave out a loud groan and stiffened up his spine. He unloaded his orgasm into his dolly’s mouth, and kept his penis inside until every last drop was sucked out. Gasping, and with a wide grin, the fifty-ish year old man finally took a step back and zipped up his pants. “I take it that you’re satisfied with your purchase?” Abigail asked, still trying not to giggle. “All I can say is ’Wow’,” the man replied, still trying to catch his breath. “If its other holes are as good as that was, I may be dead soon, but, by God, what a way to go!” “Please, kill me,” The doll whispered loudly in a recorded sounding voice, “Don’t make me live like this…” The man crouched down to look into his doll’s eyes. He put his left hand behind the doll’s neck and pulled it forward, away from the table, and closer to his own face. With his other hand, he started kneading one of the doll’s breasts while fingering the nipple. The doll let a whispering, recorded sounding sexual moan. “Why?” he asked as he looked into its eyes, “You seem to like it. You’re moaning like a hooker in heat. I’m going to enjoy sticking my cock in you any time I want, any way I want, and I’ll savor every second of it. Because of you, my wife left me and is talking divorce. She and my stepdaughter are planning on taking everything I own because of your silly lawsuit. Now, since you’re no longer around, the lawsuit will go away and she’ll come to her senses and stop this divorce talk. I’ll have her back, and I’ll have you any time I want you.” “Oh, God, please…,” the doll begged. If it had some water inside it, it would be crying. “There are still a few things we have to go over,” Abigail said over the man’s shoulder. “And we must go over them quickly before my employees start showing up for their shifts.” “Sure,” the man replied as he stood back up. He turned to face Abigail. “What else do I need to know?” “First off, here’s your receipt for the doll,” Abigail said as she handed over the piece of paper and the envelope. “Also, here’s a packet for the care and maintenance of your new dolly. Please read everything inside the envelope and keep them with your important documents. If and when you pass your dolly on, via as a gift or in your will, the new owner will need to know these things as well.” “Like what?” “Well, the dolly’s exterior is made of latex. Some people have allergic reactions to physical contact with latex, and anyone who uses it should be aware of this. “Second, at least twice a week the owner must pour two cups of tap water with a tablespoon of vegetable oil down the dolly’s throat. This is used as fuel for the dolly as well as keeping its orifices moist and lubricated during use. It can also cry, especially when it’s hurt, if you wish to punish it, but any hits will not leave any marks. Keep it away from sharp objects, but the latex can be repaired, however it will leave a scar. The minerals added to the tap water helps with the upkeep of the internal machines, like the vibrations and sucking motions. Also, the oil helps keep the latex from drying out. We suggest using the routine of every Monday and Friday, and making a habit of it. Once a month you should crush up a multivitamin in with the water. Preferably, something heavy in zinc and iron. “Third, prolonged exposure to the sun or extreme cold can irreversibly damage the latex. Do not take it outside if the temperature goes below 45 degrees Fahrenheit unless it is packed inside an insulated carrying case. It will float in a pool, but the use of sunscreen or water resistant oil is recommended first. Chlorine can dry out the exterior faster than UV rays. “Third, this dolly, if taken care of properly, can survive for an estimate of 20 thousand years. It will not age. Since no one will live that long, you MUST make preparations for when you’re gone. This is why I strongly suggest that you select a programming routine for its voice modulator. You don’t want it saying the wrong thing to the wrong person, do we?” “I understand,” the man said as he looked at his receipt. He then turned towards his doll again. “Hear that? I made you almost immortal. You’re going to be someone’s fucktoy for the next few thousand years. You should be thanking me.” The dolly replied with muffled whimpering noises. “I want her to keep speaking her own mind. It excites me more than you know. I’ll look into making some provisions on what to do with it after I’m gone, but, for now, I’m gonna have a lot of fun. If there isn’t anything else, I’ll get out of your hair.” “No, that covers about everything,” Abigail said, as she headed over towards the docking bay door. The man lifted his dolly up by its waist and threw it over his shoulder, then started to follow her. The dolly was sobbing uncontrollably as he walked, not able to move or change the blank expression on its face. “If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to call.” “Thank you, Ms. Gillen. A pleasure doing business with you. You do excellent work. If things don’t work out with my wife, I may have two new candidates for your services. Would you mind if I recommend you to a few of my friends?” Abigail hit the button that raised the dock door. “We prefer that you give us the names of your friends so we can do our own background checks before we say yes or no to potential clients. You never know what some people have hidden in their closets. When Mr. Ogontz told you about us, we had already investigated you for five weeks before giving him the okay to let him talk to you. What we do here isn’t exactly legal, so we have to be careful.” “Oh, yeah, I can see that,” the man replied as he started through the docking bay and towards his car. “I’ll call you later on with my friends’ names, probably next week, depending on how much vitamin E I can handle.” He stopped at the back of his car, placed his dolly on the ground, turned back and waved goodbye to Abigail, then opened his trunk. He then picked up his dolly and proceeded to put it inside. “Please,! Oh, God! No! Stop!” The trunk closed, and that was the end of Sylvia Farrell ************

The Sex Dolly Factory

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1: The Special Order