story continues from part six Chapter 7 Why did he have to talk in military time? I used my fingers to count up from noon to finally figure out that he’d be home at 5:30. I bathed and dressed casually in my jeans and a tee shirt; nothing to brand me as “weird” to the locals. Then I had some hot tea and toast before taking the boys for a walk through the countryside. ...

story continues from part eight Chapter 9 Paul told me about his childhood and teenaged years. He spoke of the reason for his career choice. He talked about his former girlfriend, Sophie, and how she’d introduced him to love bondage. He discovered then that he really enjoyed being sexually with a bound woman. I listened quietly, drinking it all in. Then he asked me to share my life and experiences. I chatted about my childhood and painful teenaged years. I told him about how hard it had been to be the “smart girl” instead of the popular girl. We talked about my college classes and my early introduction to BDSM. ...

story continues from part seven Chapter 8 I raced Paul to the house, but let him win. It wouldn’t have looked right for the slave girl to beat her Master, but I probably could have done it if I’d tried. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Wet to the core, we sat in front of the aga to get warm. I untied Suzi’s arms, freeing her breasts in the process. She gently shook out her arms and breasts while I watched, mesmerized. ...

With her sentence passed and confirmed, they sent Elarra Onga’s-Daughter at once to the Chamber of the Barrel. Her only guard was a goblin, a scrawny fellow who even a flighty princess could have overcome – if she were a human or elven princess. But Elarra was a goblin woman herself. Green-skinned, with big purple eyes and long mobile ears, she stood even shorter than guard-goblin Glum. Furthermore, she had her wrists bound behind her, and was nude beneath her prisoner’s poncho of undyed cloth. And then there was Master Lutz. ...

Inspired by works by bvknotty: http://fav.me/dairtfj http://fav.me/dadjn0x The four female astronauts were being led through the corridors of the massive spaceship by guard robots. Their arms were bound behind their backs in handcuffs, and their blaster pistols had been confiscated. Only minutes before, the small exploratory ship they had traveled the galaxy in was caught in a powerful tractor beam by the larger, unidentified craft they assumed to be an old derelict. The tractor beam drew them into an empty hanger bay, where a squad of mechanical soldiers awaited to take them captive. They had only been allowed a brief glance back at their ship before being taken away. Arcs from plasma cutters could already be seen carving up the tiny craft like a roast, most likely for metal salvage and parts. ...

As a transwoman, I was constantly trying to find new ways of looking and feeling feminine. No matter what I tried, I kept looking in the mirror and seeing a man looking back at me. After a therapy session, in which my therapist still wanted to wait on hormones due to some medical red flags, I left to go meet a friend for lunch. The waiting period was driving me crazy, but I knew that I had to wait. I soon reached the restaurant where I was to have lunch with an old transgender friend of mine Bree. It was a lovely little place that we had been going to for years. After sitting down and talking for a bit, the conversation soon turned to hormones. Bree, “I just got approved for them, I’m so excited! What about you?” “I’m still waiting, I just wish there was a way to become a woman faster, even just look like one.” Bree got a look in her eye, “Ever heard of Fembot Inc.?” “A little bit” I recognized the name from a building I passed on my way to the record label I own each day. “Well they’ve actually created a Fembot suit specifically for transwomen that haven’t transitioned yet. It gives you all of the feelings of womanhood while making you look like a really hot Fembot as well. I should know, I bought one” “Sounds awesome, maybe I should order one then.” “You totally should! My partner got one also. Let me know when you do!” As we finished up, we separated and I walked to my downtown loft. The minute I got in the door I rushed up to my computer and typed it in. I was amazed at the features of the suit, and knew that ordering one would be the best idea ever. I went through the ordering process and soon had one shipped and on the way. A month later Bree and her partner were sitting in my living room with me enjoying a little tv. We knew that my package would be arriving today, and they had brought over their suits and would put them on in the bedroom while I put mine on. Soon the doorbell rang and I jumped up and opened the door. I signed for the delivery as Bree and Sarah carried it in. “Ok we will leave you to it, have fun!” With that Bree and Sarah left to go change as I opened up the box. As I laid out the pieces, I was amazed by how cool the metal felt. The insides were padded, and would form around the user’s body. After all of the pieces were laid out, I took off all of my clothing as the instructions said and sat down with my naked body facing what would become my new look. The heels on the boot were of an amazing height, and as I held the two pieces near each other the magnets connected and my foot and lower leg was sealed into the suit. The process repeated on the other leg and I got up to walk around. ...

I stepped off the metro and headed into town, intending to do a bit of shopping with the bonus I got from my promotion. I was giddy with excitement, just wanting to find that perfect item. As I cruised down the street, a few shops caught my attention but none of them had the items that I was searching for. Suddenly I came across a very futuristic looking shop, with what I presumed were naked mannequins in the window. Upon closer inspection however, I came to realize that these were Fembot, and beautiful ones at that. Already getting excited, I moved into the store. Inside were numerous models of Fembot suits, in all sorts of dazzling colors and uses. One of them came up to me and said, “Welcome to the first Fembot Inc. store, how can I assist you today? I looked her over, noting the perfectness of her red metallic body. She had the body any girl would dream of, and exactly the kind of thing I was looking for to spice up my life. I asked her, “Are you a robot, or someone wearing a suit?” She smiled and with a hiss, removed her faceplate. Her face was so perfect and you could see how much she loved being in the suit. She explained how the suit functioned, and how only the user could set the amount of control they had over it, with other various safety features included. She took my hand as we walked through the store. I could feel the coolness of her hand, and knew that this would be utterly perfect. We picked out the newest version of the suit, and a selection of latex clothing items as well as a special Fembot stand. We went up to the front checkout and I happily paid for my suit, ready to feel like a powerful metallic woman. She told me that my customized suit would be delivered in a number of days, and that if I had any problems to come back at any time. As I walked back to the metro, I marveled at the Fembot women I passed along the street, ready to become one of them. A few days later I was sitting at home, watching one of my favorite films when the doorbell rang. I opened it up and there stood a Fembot, holding out a form for me to sign. I eagerly signed it as she brought the boxes in and left in on the living room floor. With a quick smile and a kind gesture she left to go make more deliveries as I turned off the tv and turned my attention to the boxes in front of me. Grabbing a pair of scissors, I cut open the boxes and laid the different items on the ground. ...

For the most part, I typically ignore popup ads. Often they are scams trying to sell you something that you really don’t want. This one was different, however, as it showed what could only be described as a fembot with the words “Become One Today!” Intrigued at the possibility, I clicked on the link and was lead onto the website for Fembot Inc, a company specializing in making fembot dreams a reality. The testimonials dropped massive praise on it, with one saying, “Three of us all got suits and they were all perfect, I’ll never regret my purchase. Fembot Love forever”. By this point, I was beyond convinced and promptly ordered a suit for myself, including a selection of leather and latex clothing to go with it. I clicked rush delivery and waited for my order, excited to become a fembot at last. Two weeks later I stood on my front porch as the delivery van arrived. Having been custom made, it took a while but once it was done it was sent to me. I eagerly signed the form and brought the package into the living room. Opening the box with my keys, I took each component out and laid them on the couch, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Before me lay the pieces of my suit, metallic but also black in color as I had requested. As I held one of the pieces in my hand, I felt the coolness of the metal and the padded interior, making sure it would fit me perfectly. I read through the instructions carefully, noting how each piece went on. I then proceeded to close all of the shades and strip down, leaving my naked body ready to be transformed. I took one of the boots and carefully placed the two parts across from one other. These ran up to the knee and would form a seal, encasing my body within. It also had a wicked heel, one that could be adjusted even higher. The magnets connected and I groaned as I felt the boot encasing my leg in its metallic glory. I did the same for the other leg and found that I was limited in motion on account of the lack of power. The knee joints came on next, followed by the upper thigh pieces. I now had my legs encased in metal, and got very excited when I saw the next part coming. I lifted up the pelvis section and giggled when I saw the interior. The outside was clearly a mechanical version of my private parts but on the inside lay a rod that would penetrate my body. It was the same on the rear part, just a bit smaller. I held my breath as I slid the pieces in, hoping that the vibrations would be everything the company had promised. It felt a bit strange to have it in, but I quickly got used to it as the corset came on. While it did fit me, it didn’t provide the kind of waist I was hoping to get. However, the instructions said that it would come once the unit was done being assembled. ...

Sarah lay on her back, as the person fucking her came inside her, filling her pussy with cum, causing what was left of her mind to spark with pleasure. She would have reflected on how she came to be in this situation, but that was a bit beyond the brainless, latex, fuckdoll that she had become. It had all started a few weeks ago when her boyfriend had left to go work overseas with his collaborators in experimental research. Before he left, he had given her a small black and silver box, containing a pair of latex bra and panties. She was intrigued as she had previously expressed her desire to wear them, and this would mean she could get used to wearing them before he came home. Having gotten back from dropping him at the airport, she got home, showered, and slipped on the latex wear, taking a few pics to send to her boyfriend to tease him. She loved the ways they hugged her body, almost like a second skin. After spending the day in latex, with the occasional touching and stroking of herself, she changed for bed, wiping some moisture off her body from where the latex had sat. The following week she was busy with work, but was able to leave early on the Friday. Getting home, she showered and was about to get changed into comfy clothes, when she came across the latex undies. Slipping them on, she marvelled at just how well they fit her compared to the last time. Grabbing her phone, she began taking a few more pics for her boyfriend to add to the ones she’d already sent him. Half an hour later, phone forgotten, she was on her back, gasping as her fingers worked their way deeper and deeper into her slit, while her other hand pinched her nipples. As her orgasm rocked through her, she had a vision of herself coated in latex, before she passed out. Waking up later, she slipped out of the latex, and again was puzzled at the presence of liquid on her skin from the latex. Shrugging, she put the undies away, changed for bed and went back to bed. That night, her sleep was troubled by images and thoughts of latex coated bodies and her boyfriend fucking her as she lay motionless beneath him. The next morning she woke, showered, wrapped herself in her robe and sipped at her coffee. Walking back into her bedroom, she caught sight of her latex undies sitting on her bed, causing her to moan slightly and her sex to moisten at her dreams from the night before. Dropping her robe to the floor, she picked up her undies and was curious at the strange liquid on the inside. She shrugged, and slipped them on anyway, again surprised at just how well they fit her body. Checking herself in the mirror, she was a little surprised to see that apparently the undies had changed slightly, seeming to have covered more of her body. Making a mental note to ask her boyfriend about it when he called her next, she started doing some chores around the house. Around midday her boyfriend called, his deep voice immediately putting her at ease and making her wish that he was home and that she could hug and kiss him once more. As they talked, her hand slowly made its way down her body to slowly stroke herself through the latex. Her boyfriend was saying something to her, but she wasn’t really aware of what he was saying. Something about latex, and fuckdolls, and how she needed to relax and not think about things so much. As he talked, her responses became breathier and more akin to moans than words, her mind filling with the idea of herself being covered in latex and fucked for hours until she came loudly, moaning her boyfriends name. She came to later, stretching as her body complained about her passing out on the couch. Stripping off her latex undies revealed the same liquid on her skin from the last few times she’d worn them, which she began rubbing into her skin. She didn’t really know why. Something about it being important to do every so often. Slipping her undies back on, she went and collapsed into bed, falling asleep, her dreams were once more filled with vivid images of herself in latex being fucked by her boyfriend. She awoke the next morning, moaning and gasping as she fingered herself to an orgasm at the thought of being encased in latex. Catching her breath, she slipped her undies off, rubbing the liquid into her skin before she slipped her undies back on. Lying in bed, she stared at the ceiling, hand stroking her pussy through the latex as she imagined what it would be like to lay still as her boyfriend slid his cock into her and treated her like a fuckdoll. Monday rocked around, and she found herself out of habit waking up to her alarm, undressing, rubbing her skin, showering, dressing, and making breakfast which went uneaten. At work, she sat and stared at her computer. She knew she should be working, but for some reason she couldn’t work out what she was supposed to do, or why it was important. At lunchtime, she sat with her work mates as they ate. Her supervisor came to talk to her and after a conversation, she was sent home for the day. At home, she stripped down to her latex undies, unaware that she was even wearing them, and lay on her back in bed, hands touching her breasts and pussy through the latex, immediately feeling better as she lay there doing nothing. She was surprised when her boyfriend called her that night, completely unaware of just how much time had passed, but hearing him talk to her made her feel better as she lay there, touching herself while he spoke to her, telling her how much better she’d feel being mindless, and that she should call in sick to work for the week and stay home. The next morning, she called in sick to work, promising that she’d try to get back as soon as possible, but secretly thinking about staying in bed forever as a latex fuckdoll. That task done, she pulled out her laptop and checked her emails, finding one from her boyfriend, read it, then downloaded the attached file. Grabbing her headphones, she watched the video he had sent her, calmed by the sound of her boyfriends voice as it talked over a number of images, while her fingers stroked her pussy. As the day wore on her fingers began to press more and more against her pussy while her mind filled itself with images of being her latex vagina being filled with cock and cum, until she felt the latex seem to stretch under fingers, beginning to fill her pussy and making her cum harder than she’d ever remembered. When her boyfriend called her again that night. She had been waiting for his call since she had talked to him the night before. She was aware that he was talking to her, then that she was talking to him, but couldn’t make sense of the words either of them were saying. His words soothed her mind, and made her at ease, while her words seemed to impress him and that pleased her. As they talked, she felt a desire to feel herself being filled. She’d already managed to get two fingers into her new latex pussy, but his voice made her want to feel more inside of herself, and she began working a third, and then a fourth finger into her sex. By the time he hung up, she had her entire fist inside of herself and had sent him a picture of herself in this lewd position before she came not for the first time that day before finally succumbing to sleep. She awoke, yet again from dreams of being a latex fuckdoll, and her boyfriend fucking her, to an itch deep in her pussy that her fingers just couldn’t itch. Digging under her bed, she pulled out a box that she had completely forgotten about until something in her dreams had reminded her. Inside the box were a number of various toys that she and her boyfriend had collected over their months together, including one that had originally been a comically oversized dildo but now had her licking her lips with pleasure. Grabbing the dildo, she knelt on the bed and positioned the head at her moist latex pussy lips, moaning as she slid the dildo into her hungry sex, until she had taken the entirety of it. Rubbing her clit, she took a pic of herself reflected in the floor to ceiling mirror sitting opposite the bed for her boyfriend. Her skin was a shiny black latex that covered all but her head, and below her knees and elbows. As she rode the giant dildo, she felt a similar itch begin to form deep in her butt. Reaching behind herself, she began stroking her smooth latex behind, hand beginning to press firmer until the latex began to press into herself, like it had with her vagina. Her boyfriend called her again that night. He spoke to her, while she rode pair of dildos that she had stuffed into her pussy and ass. She didn’t know what he was saying, she had stopped caring anymore. She just wanted to hear him talk to her, hear his words numb her mind further, wanted him to be there so he could fuck his doll like he was supposed to. The next day she was wrapped in her robe as she answered the door for a delivery man. He gave her a black box, and it took a moment for her to remember what her name was, before signing as “Fuckdoll”. The delivery man bid her a good day, and left, while she took the box inside and stripped down to her black latex skin once more. Inside the box was a pair of long gloves and knee high heels, both made of black latex, which she immediately put on, enjoying the feel of being encased in shiny black skin. The next item was a black leather harness and a pair of vibrators that seemed to go together and hold them inside her pussy and ass. Working quickly, she attached the vibes and slid the harness up her legs, slipping the toys into her holes and cinching the belt tight. Moaning slightly at being filled, she removed the last items from the box. Holding the gag and hood in her hands, she bit her lip as she had a small orgasm. She seemed to remember texting her boyfriend, getting comfortable on the bed, and slipping the hood onto her head. The latex hood cut off all sight and sounds, leaving her in darkness, and the sweet scent of latex. Picking up the penis gag that sat in her lap, she put it in place between her lips, forced open by the hood itself, and buckled the soft leather behind her head, the head of the gag reaching the back of her throat.. Laying back, silent and immobile, she sighed in contentment before she felt the vibes in her holes slowly buzzed to life. Time became meaningless to her. Laying in her bed, covered in latex, she had originally been moaning into her gag as the toys in her pussy and ass vibrated on and off, causing her to cum and cum, until she could no longer cum anymore, while thoughts of a life of latex and being used flooded through her head until everything seemed to become blank and she could no longer move or think. She didn’t hear her boyfriend finally return, nor could she respond, even if she wanted to. Running his hands over her new form, he made a few notes, before removing the harness and exploring her latex holes. Seemingly satisfied, he removed his pants, knelt between her legs and inserted his hardness into her. Her body moaned at the intrusion, relaxed, and went still. Above her, her boyfriend thrust into her, grunted, and came. Satisfied, he went to have a shower, leaving his new latex fuckdoll, cum oozing from her pussy, in the middle of the bed that they had once shared, but that she would no longer be leaving.

(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. ...

(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. ...

My father in law was out of town and it was my job to go to his house and feed the cat. Lonesome cats need some personal attention so I figured I would hang around a while to give her some company. The bed in my father in law’s house is a fancy king size with smooth steel bars at the foot of the mattress and nice wooden posts at the head. This is such a great opportunity, I decided I can tie myself up for a while and keep the kitty company at the same time. I took my clothes off. Using some soft flat nylon rope, I tied my feet to the bars at the foot of the mattress. Then tied rope to each wrist. I could almost reach the corner posts at the head; but not quite. I threw the rope over the posts so my arms were now stretched out to the corners. ...

James had known he liked bondage from a very early age, when he used to play pirates with his friends and enjoyed being kept prisoner. Little did he know, it would make up a huge part of his adult life. When he reached his teens he saw one of his friends mums wearing pvc trousers and he knew he wanted to wear them too. **18 years later** James had just finished work for the week, he worked in an office block and had recently been given a new job. This meant harder work but more pay. He had just had his first pay slip so had gone straight onto the Regulation website and ordered latex trousers and a latex jacket. The jacket looked like a biker jacket and at first glance could almost be taken for “normal” clothes - until the light hit it. The trousers, well more like leggings were also biker style and so tight they hid nothing. ...

Judy had been working the site alone since she had uncovered it a year ago. She had originally not wanted to say anything in case it turned into just another old farmhouse. When she found the remnants of what appeared to be a medieval dungeon she kept it quiet not wanting to share the discovery. Judy had already uncovered many torture devices cleaning each making them like new becoming more fascinated by the restraints and evil devices each day. Judy had applied the heavy collar and the ankle manacles to herself after finding them buried with their keys and restoring them. The feel of the heavy steel around her neck and the limitations the manacles put on her while she moved around the site excited her in a way she had never felt before. ...

Paul sat looking at the heavily boned brace the doctor had placed on his wrist, the multiple metal stays and Velcro straps hooked to the laces made him think the design would be good for a bondage wrap of some sort. During the next few weeks while he was unable to work he had searched the internet and found the materials he thought he would need and ordered them and now sat in front of the rarely used sewing machine slowly stitching the three layers of material together. ...

I feel this story needs a quick intro. This was inspired by one of the first pieces of erotic fiction I ever read, The Factory by Tr_Veller. It’s a similar story, but its with a genetic girl and not as much sex, still it was an amazing piece. I tried reaching out for permission to basically borrow the idea and take a trans spin on it, but haven’t heard back. So, if anyone knows Tr_Veller, I’d love to connect again. So, on to the story… ...

Lindsey Stirling had woken up that morning in a lovely little beach cabin she had rented. From the bedroom window she could see the wonderful waters of the Mediterranean Sea. As she gazed at the waves from the soft plush bed she was laying in she suddenly felt the inspiration to go and play a song of hers on her violin. She quickly hopped out of bed slipping into a simple black one piece swimsuit that was modest and showed very little skin. What it lacked in the showing skin department it made up for by enhancing and glorifying her every curve. ...

Part 1: A Visit to a Charity Shop The damned train drivers were on strike again. Another interminable dispute over pay and conditions. For the third time in a month their industrial action had forced me to seek alternative transport. The buses were a lot slower than the train and the route stopped a frustratingly long distance away from my flat. Fortunately it was a pleasant enough early-spring evening for the remaining walk. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: The Mirror My mind was full of a million questions about the trunk, and the beautiful rubber panties within. Unsure whether I was even safe to be in the same room as the mysterious trunk, I dragged it into the spare bedroom and closed the door. Sleep proved elusive, restlessly listening for any sounds coming from outside my bedroom, every few minutes peeping to see if the eerie glow had returned. What played on my mind the most were the words which had appeared on the catalogue. “GET THE MIRROR!”. What did that mean, and what would be the ramifications if I acquired said mirror? ...

Author’s Note: I wrote this story for my previous Mistress as a birthday present to her. The main event in the story is actually based on an online conversation I had with another Mistress who claimed to have done this to her slave. I have elaborated with some of the details but the main gist remains the same as she told me. I have no way of knowing if she was telling me the truth, but if she was I can only say that I envy and pity her slave in almost equal measures. As ever, feedback is gratefully received. ...