Factory

Disclaimer: This is a work of dark speculative fiction. It contains horror themes and physical transformations which may be uncomfortable for some. Reader discretion is advised. “This isn’t going to end the way you’re hoping.” Her captain’s warning echoed in her mind. Detective Heather Aila sat in her car, parked on the edge of the city’s old industrial district, reviewing the case files she’d pulled up on a small display. Three women had gone missing without a trace, the only clue being the mobile tower pings that put each one of them within a few blocks of a strange unmarked factory that had caught her eye. Her captain was rarely so hesitant and even less frequently rattled. The department wanted her on something else, but she wasn’t ready to walk away. ...

Joy had always wanted to try being a sexdoll, she had fantasized about this for many years, either while playing with herself whilst alone in her bed, or during sex with a partner, she fantasized that in her mind that she was just a sex doll, she would lay there on the bed and drift away lost in her fantasy of being nothing more than a sexual object, being used and then discarded afterwards. She had also found that her own sexual experience was heightened when she ran this fantasy through her mind when engaged in any form of sexual activity, and her orgasms when they came were more mind-blowing than when she wasn’t fantasizing about being a sex doll. ...

High school honor roll. College Valedictorian. MIT graduate. All before the age of 24. Athena was a scientist, and a brilliant one at that. She’d worked in the defense sector as a robotics engineer for her early career, however her larger ambitions had recently forced her to leave the lucrative position and brought her to a new field; Dolls. Athena now spent her days as a top scientist for a sex-doll manufacturing company, as much as it hurt her pride to say aloud. She detested everything that the industry stood for, but the access to advanced synthetics when combined with her own experience developing military-grade robots and prosthetics made this career choice the logical next step for her to achieve her goals. Athena had grand ambitions, and she pursued them as if her life depended on them, because they did. You see, Athena had been diagnosed at a young age with a life-threatening medical condition, and modern medicine told her she’d never make it past 35 years old. Unless she’d found a way out, that is. Athena dedicated her life striving to design a perfect body to replace the one she’d been born with; to become her best self. In her 30th year now, her plan was finally coming to fruition. ...

Natalie was fresh out of college, and her job prospects were looking a little rough. Despite having studied at a prestigious university, there just weren’t a lot of positions available in her area right now for someone with a Women’s Studies degree. Natalie had rent bills coming and was determined to find something, anything, that would pay more than minimum wage. She scoured every job listing website she could find for the tri-county area and after nearly three weeks of job hunting, she finally found a listing with decent pay. ...

Catherine was doing her usual rounds patrolling the main factory floor of the Love-A-Lot doll factory. The factory was a fairly expansive building, lined with many snaking conveyor belts, overhead tracks and huge mechanical machines. Whilst the company specialised in manufacturing sex dolls and the ever more popular sex androids, shipping them world-wide, but they’re main target market being Asia. The factory also dealt with repairs for the more complex androids, being much more cost effective than to simply send a brand new one out every time someone fucked the daylights out of one before the warranty was up. ...

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 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. ...

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… ...

Here it is: the twisted, dark ending to the Sophia Maidbot stories. This should be the last “official” commission for Sophia from TFMonkey This is definitely not something I normally write, but since so many of you wanted it, here it is. Hopefully you enjoy how it turned out.. Story continued from Sophia Maid to be a Maidbot So many things in life happen, and we never really ask “what if,” especially if the situation turned out well. For those that do, let’s backtrack on our story of Sophia. We know she has Evan and a look-alike maidbot, and of course, a wedding coming up. Let me take you back to a seemingly innocent afternoon at her house. While planning the wedding, her and her soon-to-be sister-in-law were out doing errands. Well, actually, her maidbot-as-her was out with Sophia’s soon-to-be sister-in-law. Sophia was home and had activated her administrative privileges to be herself while the maidbot was away. She could not wait to try on the dress, and she had just finished when the others came home and the house system forced Sophia into maidbot mode. Life went on and the wedding was gorgeous! But, what if the house system had malfunctioned and not placed her in maidbot mode. She would have had to pretend to be a maidbot, which is nothing new, yet her sister-in-law had a secret that was not brought to light in our first story’s ending, and if questioned about it, she would not admit it. You know how you can keep a secret from yourself, stealing away that it is not real. Now that Sophia is pretending instead, she does something that opens the door for a devious plan to unfold, and while it was mostly accidental, lives can be altered forever, even by a seemingly innocent betrayal. And this plan…well, perhaps maybe you should read it for yourself. ...

Ashley had been working for the doll factory for a couple of years. Nothing fancy about her position, she was just the secretary for the president of the company. He was young and extremely rich having founded one of the most profitable sex doll factories in the country. Ashley had joined the company fresh out of college with her business degree and handled most of the finances for her boss. Despite founding the company he wasn’t actually all that good with the numbers and behind the scenes work that was required to run a company which is why he paid Ashley well to take care of a majority of the business aspects. Ashley found her boss extremely attractive, not just because of the nice cars and heaps of money he seemed to have but he was a looker. His name was Mack and his chiseled chin, tall stature, dark hair and eyes and always well dressed nature probably had every girl swooning over him. She considered him out of her league, he probably only dated models and other people of the upper echelon. Ashley herself was not half bad, platinum blonde hair that she would often curl, 5’9” of curvy body and a flat stomach, she was often told she judged herself a little too harshly and had a tendency to settle. This all really started when Ashley started dating a new guy. He was quirky but handsome and she found him fun but didn’t know how far she would take it with him. After a long night of heavy drinking they both started to confess their darkest secrets. Ashley confessed that she may be in love with her boss which only sparked a small conversation of it never being possible in her eyes. Her new boyfriend, John, beat around the bush when it came to his turn to reveal a secret. It was eventually revealed that he had first seen her leaving work, not in a stalker way as he was in the building to pick up a toy and just so happened to meet her again at the bar, recognizing her and striking up a conversation. She was intrigued and wanted to know which toy he was there to buy. He eventually revealed that he only had bought a simple flesh light like toy that was extremely popular from the company. He also revealed that he would love to try out one of the custom order dolls but he was too broke to actually afford one of the upper tiered models. This is what sparked Ashley’s imagination. She knew exactly how the system worked in the manufacturing plant and if he wanted to give a toy a test run… why not let it be her. At this point Ashley crashed with a big grin on her face, her drunken state giving her an idea. When she woke up she started sorting out some of the details, going into work to start setting her plan in motion. She first requested a few days off , just a Friday and Monday to extend her weekend. Next she logged into the company website and prepared her custom order, setting up clothes, extra toy packages, and making sure that the machine would have every exact detail about her personal body, making sure it would choose a 5’9” platinum blonde with a DD chest and nice hips. When the machine would go to “build” this custom doll it would choose her for the blank doll to start from before adding clothes and what not before packaging her and sending her out. She chose a simple outfit, a crop top to show her stomach, stockings and a plaid skirt, she was essentially going for a school girl look and added twin ponytails. The website also allowed for “pleasure” packages, the more you paid, the more options you could essentially fuck. Ashley didn’t see a need to set up more than just her pussy since she wasn’t huge on oral or anal and didn’t want the machine to mess with her too much. She quickly saved all of her settings and logged out, now she just had to wait till Thursday night to begin her plan. Thursday night finally rolled around, it had been a long and impatient week for Ashley. She made the excuse of finishing some work before taking a vacation to stay later than everyone in the factory, watching the last few employees leave. Her boss popped his head into her office door briefly and told her to have a fun weekend, giving her an almost evil grin she hadn’t seen before. She brushed it off and watched as he drove off in his Porsche. “Time for operation Dolly” Ashley said to herself as she stood up and went to the factory floor. ...

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory 3) Part 4a: The Criminals Part 1 The town was becoming more populated as the decades went by, with more people entering and being born than leaving or dying. In a few more years, the town could be reclassified as an actual city, which is what the local politicians want more than anything. There were now more than 200,000 people living within the town’s borders. New building construction inside the center of town has begun on buildings that were over ten stories tall. Public transportation now included over 60 busses. The new city hall is schedeuled to open next year with over fifty offices, not including the mayor’s office, ten criminal courtrooms, holding cells, a bail bondsman on site, a fully stocked cafeteria, and a daycare center for the town’s employees who can’t afford a sitter. The only problem with this growth spurt is the inherent rise in crime that goes along with it. ...

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory 2) Part 3: The Model Mannequins Mary was both excited and nervous about her first modelling job. She couldn’t sit still and she also felt like she was going to throw up. She wasn’t exactly plain, nor was she cover girl material, but she was offered the gig nonetheless. She chalked it up to her best friend, Paula, the raven haired second generation Italian beauty who has been her best friend since the second grade. Paula was the super model while she was ‘The girl next door that you have a chance with.’ It was Paula’s idea to move to the city and become models. Mary wanted to go onto college, but without a scholarship there was no way that her family could pay for it. Paula argued that she would have plenty of cash within two years to pay for any college she wanted. All they had to do was walk around in frilly dresses or skimpy bikinis, and people would literally throw money at them. Seemed like a sweet deal at the time, but that was three months ago, and now a job at a fast food restaurant sounded appealing. Neither girl knew anything about the modelling world, and the lack of knowledge caused them to run through all of their savings really fast. Without a reputable agent behind them, they weren’t getting any offers. Disreputable agents were everywhere, and they wanted the two nineteen year olds to do porn. They both agreed to each other, “Shit shovelers before porn stars.” It was 4:30 in the morning, and Mary kept looking out the window of their small, one bedroom fourth floor apartment, looking for the car that was coming to pick them up. They had been hired to pose for mannequin molds for Flozell’s department store. The gig started at 5 AM and was going to take all day to do. Some type of body casting so they could make several mannequins based on their bodies. They even took hair samples to make sure they got the wigs to match as well. She heard of body molds of actors being made for movies, but never of a whole body. She did some research on the internet and found out that NASA did something similar to their early astronauts to make their suits and seats inside the modules. She found this interesting, whereas Paula simply asked, “Will it cause my skin to break out?” Paula was sitting on the worn out, third-hand sofa, watching her friend pace back and forth like a panther in the zoo. Of the two of them, she was the calm one. Not that there was anything wrong with her mentally, it was just that she was so attractive that she never had to wait on anything or anyone. She was more dismissive, yet dominant in her demeanor, which was an extreme contrast to Mary’s excitable yet submissive outlook. Confident to Mary’s uneasiness. That’s probably why they’ve been friends for so long. They just complimented each other so well. “Will you please stop pacing?” Paula asked as she got up from the sofa, “You’re gonna walk a hole through the floor.” “I’m sorry,” Mary replied as she looked at her cellphone, “But it’s 4:35 and no one’s here, and no one’s called. They must’ve cancelled. They cancelled and they didn’t call. They think we’re not worth calling.” Her pacing picked up speed, and her face took up a very worried look. Paula let out a little giggle. She reached out and grabbed her friend on her next pass and pulled her close into a big hug. “Oh, what am I gonna do with you? Calm down. They show up when they show up. If they don’t show up, well, that’s their loss. Worrying only leads to early facial wrinkles. Take a few deep breaths and relax, will you?” She held Mary until she finally calmed down enough to stand still on her own. She then pulled her away to arm’s length and looked into her eyes. “There. That’s better. I was afraid that I was gonna hafta slap you, Plain Jane.” Mary giggled a little herself. “You may be bigger than me, but I will defend myself, Topheavy.” Both girls started laughing. As is with all good friends, tensions are easily diffused with some good-natured ribbing. Mary was nicknamed by Paula “Plain Jane” in high school for her plain body build and Paula was nicknamed by Mary “Topheavy” since the sixth grade when she quickly developed breasts almost overnight. Heaven help the soul that ever tried to use these nicknames on them because both girls defended each other like sisters. No one picked on Mary while Paula was around, and no one picked on Paula while Mary was around. Suddenly a car horn sounded outside the window. Paula looked this time to see a large black luxury car double parked outside. It looked like a Cadillac, or maybe a Lincoln. It didn’t really matter what kind it was, it was here to take them into their dreams. The money was about to start flowing in like a river, and the fifty thousand each were getting for this job was like opening up the dam. Paula turned to Mary and gave an incredibly huge smile. Mary smiled back, and then both started for the door. Mary shut off her cellphone and placed it on the table next to the sofa. “Hey,” she called to Paula, who was halfway out the door. “Remember? No cellphones. Leave it here.” “No way. I don’t go anywhere without my phone.” “Remember what we were told? No phones, cameras, or recording stuff at the factory, or we don’t get the job.” “Stupid rule,” Paula said with a huff, as she came back into the room. She removed her cellphone from her purse and put it down next to Mary’s. “I don’t see why we can’t have it. It’s not like we’re gonna call in an air strike or something.” “Fifty thousand dollars,” was Mary’s only reply. Paula stared at Mary for a few seconds. “Great argument. I’ll concede that fact. Now let’s go. Our chariot awaits!” The girls gave each other a giddy hug, then rushed out the door. They went down the four flights of steps as fast as their high heels could take them. Mary was so excited, she thought she was floating down the stairs. Paula had to go more carefully because too much bouncing made her heavy breasts hurt after a while, but she made it down in good time. Once at the bottom of the stairs, they quickly composed themselves as they went for the front door. They both checked their clothes for wrinkles or imperfections, and Paula had to retuck her blouse back into her skirt. Mary had to push her long brown hair back behind her ears so she could see again. With a simple nod to each other, they flung the front door open. ************** Renee Flozell has been the merchandising manager for the department store chain her grandfather started since graduating college. You could say that it was nepotism that made her a vice president, but she liked to think that it was her hard work and determination. A twenty-seven year old woman sitting on the board of directors is almost unheard of anywhere, unless that woman got there on her back. This was not her case, and she has the diplomas and track record to prove it. Ever since she took over the merchandising and displays of the stores, sales had risen at least 30% across the board, with a 50% rise in women’s clothing. Most of her success had come from simply making the products more appealing to the target customers through attractive and innovative displays. This was especially true with the new mannequins she made the stores buy. The previous mannequins were simple generic faceless white plastic statues with no real features to accentuate the clothing they were wearing. She thought it was like tacking the clothes to a wall. No one could really tell how well they would hang on a real human body. She fought with her father, the current owner and CEO of the chain, to get more realistic clothing displays. Throwing down the gauntlet, he told her that he would buy three of them as a trial. She bought three female mannequins four days later from a friend that she went to college with, and all three had different body types, sizes, and heights, as well as lifelike hair and faces. She used them for the summer bathing suit roll-out, and they were a big success. Within a month, sales of bathing suits in the store the mannequins were placed in jumped 70%. Suddenly, Renee had a blank check and was a vice president. The first thing she did was to sign a contract with Exclusive Products Co. for all of their current and future mannequin needs. Her friend, Dr. Rebecca Evers, was the lead scientist with this company, and was the major contributor to both sides of the contract. Flozell’s would come to Exclusive Products for all of their mannequin needs, and Exclusive Products would give steep discounts. Also, Flozell’s would recommend Exclusive Products ‘in stock’ mannequins to other companies and stores. All in all, it was very beneficial to both parties. Renee did know about how they made the mannequins, and that they made deluxe sex dollies almost the same way, but this didn’t bother her. She had her fill of stuck-up prissy little beauty queens since boarding school. She was a beauty herself, and a nice body with a luxurious head of light brown hair, but she had a very bad case of acne as an early teen, which left her face with several pock-marked scars across both cheeks, her nose, and her forehead. She was picked on mercilessly by the other girls because of this superficial deformity, and she never forgot or forgave. Some of the deepest scars can’t be seen. There were only two things that helped her keep her sanity when she made it to college: A kid genius lesbian, Rebecca, who was a kindred spirit from also being picked on, and an incredibly sensitive nerd boy, Tommy, who saw the real woman inside. She had remained a good friend with Becky, even though one time Becky got drunk and made an aggressive pass at her while they were sophomores (Becky apologized profusely later, then they both had a good laugh). Tommy had proposed to Renee last Christmas, and their wedding is planned for two weeks after he earns his Phd, which is hopefully this fall. Right now, Renee is waiting for two inexperienced models to come down to the car she was sitting in. The driver, Eric, works security for Exclusive Products Co., and he helps procure the new talent. He has been doing this for a long time, and he knows how to do his job. After they leave here, no one will ever see this car again, especially not the real owner, who will probably report it stolen when he wakes up in a few hours. He was also nice enough to bring her a coffee before he picked her up this morning. He honked the horn as they pulled up, and they didn’t have to wait very long. It was only about a minute when he said, “Here they come.” The front door on the apartment building swung open and Renee watched the two girls emerge. Both she and Eric stepped out of the car and waved to them. Both girls had on wide smiles as they quickly approached, and Eric turned around to open up the back seat door of the car. The girls made a beeline directly for it without any invitation. After all, doesn’t the chauffeur always open the car door for the models? “Good morning!” both girls said almost in tandem as they climbed into the back seat. Mary slid in first, then scooted over for Paula. Once both were in, Eric closed the door and climbed back in behind the wheel. Renee slid back into the front passenger’s seat all the while never taking her eyes off of the girls. “Morning ladies,” Renee said cordially, “Are we ready to make some magic?” With a rousing chorus of “You Bet!”, “Can’t wait!”, and “I’m so excited!” escaping the girls lips in no discernable order, they prepared to take girls to the factory. “Girls, this is Eric,” Renee said as she nodded to the man behind the wheel. “He’s going to drive us to the people who will make the mannequins and then bring us home. He’s an excellent driver, and he’ll have us there in no time. The sooner we get there the sooner we can get done. This will be a long day, not including the paperwork you need to fill out. But first, I’ll need your giddy butts to put on your seat belts! We can’t have you bouncing around back there like a couple of four year olds, especially while we’re moving!” Everyone had a laugh as the girls did what they were told. Once secured, Eric started driving. The two girls kept on chattering away with both small talk and aspirations of grandeur the entire car ride. Renee tried to be pleasant and answered their silly comments as they went, but inside she wished that they would just shut their vapid little holes. Eric had a look of contempt as the girls just droned on and on and on… The ride took a little over fifteen minutes to get to the industrial complex where the factory was. It was barely noticeable in the early morning darkness, mostly because of the lack of street lights in the area. There was only one light in the small parking lot they pulled into. Their car parked next to the only other car in the lot, a black Mercedes. There was a small sidewalk path that led from the cars to a set of darkened glass double doors. There were small rays of light coming out from the gap between the doors, proving that someone was in there. Eric got out of the car and opened the back door again. Both girls slid out of that side and looked around. Renee climbed out of the passenger’s seat and started towards the door to the factory. Eric closed the back door and stood behind the girls as they tried to figure out what they were doing here in this run down area. “This is it?” Paula asked as she tried to catch up with Renee. Mary wasn’t far behind. “Yes, this is the place,” Renee replied without stopping her stride. She reached out and pulled on the door’s handle, but it was locked. “Were you expecting a factory that uses toxic materials like polypropylene to be built smack dab in city center?” She released the handle and turned to Eric, who was still standing next to the car. “Eric, the door’s locked. Can you buzz them or something?” “Oh, they’re probably upstairs getting things ready,” he replied as he started over to where the three girls were standing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of about twenty keys. He found the one he was looking for and opened the door. He held it open so the women could enter into the lobby. Once everyone was in, he turned and locked the door again. He then searched the ring for another key and walked over to the door on the opposite side of the room. “I’ll go find them, let them know you’re here. All of the contracts are on the two clipboards on the coffee table if you want to get them started. I put your company’s paperwork on top, and ours underneath. Be right back.” He quickly unlocked the door and disappeared through it like a ghost. The two girls both had confused looks on their faces. Renee didn’t appear to notice. She simply went over and picked up the two clipboards. “Hunky guy aside,” Mary said, “This seems a little strange.” “Yep, the guy’s a sploosh,” Paula added, “But sometimes you gotta deal with some strange to get where you wanna be. I can deal with a little strange if he’s willing to scratch my itch later.” “Paula, you would do just about anything humanoid with a penis!” “You say that like it’s bad or something.” “Can we please dispense with the girl’s high school bathroom talk for the time being?” Renee asked, with obvious frustration in her voice. “Not trying to be rude, but this is costing my company a lot of money for this, and we need to get started. Or would you two rather I have Eric take you home?” Both girls were taken aback by the sudden change of attitude in Renee. “Chill out, lady. This is who I am, and I don’t change for anybody,” Paula exclaimed. Mary let out a loud gasp upon hearing her friend’s retort. “PAULA!!!” Mary shouted with anger in her voice. “I’m sorry for my friend’s out burst, Ms. Flozell. It’s early, she hasn’t had any coffee yet, and she doesn’t have her cellphone on her. She didn’t really mean that, did you?” She gave Paula a mild but firm slap on the arm. “No. I’m sorry,” Paula said with humility in her apology. She really didn’t mean it, but it was enough to fool Renee, or so she thought. They really needed this job, and mouthing off is not something she should be doing right now. “It’s okay,” Renee replied, almost nonchalantly. “Early morning modelling sessions can be tough, even for experienced models. So, let’s get you started filling out your paperwork. The papers on top are basically the modelling contract, your W4 form, a release saying that Flozell’s has permission to use your likeness in our stores, and a direct deposit release. The other papers are from Exclusive Products, Inc. They have a disclosure agreement, a liability waiver, another likeness release form, and I believe what they call a ‘Dolly’ form.” She handed each girl a clipboard. A pen was attached to the top of each one. “Excuse me,” Mary asked as she took the clipboard, “A ‘Dolly’ form?” “Exclusive products makes other products than just mannequins. They also make inflatable and solid rubber sex dolls, what they call ‘Dollys,’ and that agreement lets this company use your likeness to make a sex doll based on your looks. Since they will already have the mold of your bodies, it isn’t too difficult for them to make a dolly of you. I’ve seen some of the finished products and they do excellent work with them. It’s really quite flattering.” “EWWWWW!!!!” Mary exclaimed while in full disgust mode. Paula instead formed an evil grin. “Sounds kinky,” she said, “They can do it, as long as they give me one for myself. And give me a life sized one of Eric, too.” “Lady, sometimes you make me sick!” Mary said to her friend. “Hey, do you know how many people told me to go fuck myself in my lifetime?” Paula asked rhetorically as she took the other clipboard, “I’d just be giving into popular demand.” Renee just shook her head as the two girls took seats in the chairs against the one wall and started writing. She was grateful for the momentary peace and quiet. The paperwork was pretty easy to follow, so neither one of these idiots should have problems with them, as if it matters. She had to keep stringing them along until they were upstairs. As they were finishing up, Mary asked how to fill out the ‘Dolly’ form to NOT letting them have permission, that’s when the interior door opened again. Out walked Eric, Abigail Griffin, and her friend, Dr. Rebecca Evers. Eric was pushing what looked like a large box that could’ve held an old 32 inch tube television with a hand truck. Renee didn’t notice that. She noticed the black eye and cast on her friend’s wrist. “Oh, my God! Becky!” she exclaimed as she rushed over to hug her friend. She threw her arms around her and, because of their slight height difference, she almost knocked her glasses off her face. “What happened? Who did this? Why didn’t you tell me?!?” “I was attacked by someone I met at a bar,” Becky told her friend as she hugged her back. “I didn’t want to worry you. You’re a worry wart, and you would’ve never let me get back to my work until the cast came off. I love you to death, but sometimes you’re a pain in the ass when it comes to illnesses.” “Yes, yes, you’re right,” Renee replied as she let her friend go. “Did the police catch who did this to you?” “No, they are still looking,” Abigail answered with a slight smile. Once Renee made eye contact with her, Abigail gave a slight nod towards Eric. “Don’t think they ever will,” Eric added as he pushed the box towards the glass double doors. “Can someone help me with the doors?” Becky started towards the doors. “Yeah, I will,” she said, “It’s nice to feel useful around here.” Abigail turned to the two girls sitting in the lobby chairs. “Are these two your new discoveries, Renee?” Both girls stood up as to introduce themselves, but Renee took charge. “Yes, they are,” Renee replied. “This is Paula Miletti,” she said as she moved her hand towards the black haired beauty, “And this is Mary Lind,” moving her hand towards the average brunette. “Hello!” Mary said warmly as she put her hand out in greeting. Abigail took it and gave a polite shake. “Mornin’,” Paula simply stated as she gave a little wave. “Nice place you got here.” Abigail gave both of them a polite smile. “I’m Abigail Gillen, the owner of this establishment. Over there is our lead scientist, Dr. Rebecca Evers.” Becky looked up and waved her free, non-broken hand. “As you can see, she is injured, so this process may take a little longer than normal. If we do run into a longer time than you have been quoted, I will personally pay for your overtime. Does that sound fair?” “More than fair!” Mary blurted out without thinking. Paula rubbed her hands together greedily and smiled. “Good! After Eric finally gets through the door, we’ll get started.” Abigail motioned for the clipboards. Both girls handed them to her, and she handed one to Renee while she looked over the other. “Everything seems to be in order, Mary, but you do not want a dolly made from your mold?” Abigail asked. “No way!,” Mary said strongly, “Those things are disgusting! Anyone who buys one is a slimy pervert!” “Well, Paula is acceptable to the idea as long as she can have one for herself,” Renee said as she showed the paper to Abigail, “Her reasons for it are… well… colorful, to say the least.” As this was going on, Eric was finally out the door and Becky closed and locked it. “That’s one less problem I’m going to lose sleep over,” she mumbled out loud to herself as she walked over to the other girls. “Are we ready to get going?” “Not yet,” Abigail said as she gave her clipboard to Renee. “Ladies, before we continue, I need you to empty your pockets and purses here on the table. Also I need you to remove your shoes. Before you ask, we need to see if you‘re carrying any recording devices or cameras. I will also be frisking you to make sure there‘s none concealed in your clothing.” Mary did what she was told without questioning. Paula thought about it for a moment, then also complied. Abigail frisked both women quickly as Renee stood in an authoritative pose before them, as if to give the impression that she was protecting the girls from any improprieties. Satisfied that both of them were ‘clean’, she told them to gather their things back into their purses. It was time to go to work! ****************** The walk through the warehouse floor over to the freight elevator was somewhat uneventful. Paula made a few jokes about the inflatable dolls in the boxes on the shelves, while Mary kept silent and just averted her eyes. Abigail, Renee and Becky were catching up with what was going on with their lives as they walked. They got into the elevator and took it to the second floor. The door opened and the first sight the novice models saw were rows of pews with what looked like women wrapped in plastic sitting on them. The scene made Mary give out a shrill scream. “Hey! Hey! It’s okay! They’re only life size dolls!” Becky consoled in a loud voice towards the shaken up girl. She reached out with her good hand and pulled Mary towards them. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” As they got closer, Mary started to see the differences between living and latex tissue. She reached out with her other hand and touched one through the plastic bag. It felt like a thick balloon filled with corn syrup. She quickly calmed down and apologized for her outburst. “Sorry about that,” she meekly said, “But it looked too much like ‘Night of the Living Dead’ for a second there.” “You’re such a pussy,” Paula snidely said. “It’s understandable,” Abigail replied, “But those aren’t the top of the line models we have. We have others that look like they could have a conversation with you. But we’ll save that for another time. Let’s get to the mannequin room, then we’ll go over what’s going to happen today.” The five headed over to the hallway that was between a row of shelving and a wall that had two doors on it. The closer one was a heavy metal door and the farther one was like a normal door. This was the one they walked towards and went through. The room they entered had about twenty mannequins lined up four deep against the left wall. They were all naked and extremely detailed. Some even had pubic hairs! Paula and Mary had seen the mannequins in Flozell’s when they were there for the interviews, so they weren’t really shocked in seeing these. Mary was a little unnerved, especially after the scene she did a few minutes earlier, but she quickly regained her composure. Both girls walked further into the room and noticed a bunch of what looked like microphone stands and large round metal bases at the far end of the room. Next to them were eight tall thin light towers, covered with a whole lot of red LED lights on one side. “Okay,” Abigail announced to get the girls attention, “Mary, Paula, this is where we’re going to make the mannequins. To explain the procedure, I’ll let Dr. Evers have the floor. If you have any questions, please wait until after she goes over everything.” Both girls nodded, and came closer to Becky. “The procedure is pretty simple,” Becky started, “But it is time consuming. What we’re going to do first is have you strip down to your underwear so we can take some measurements. After that, we’ll have you get into the poses Ms. Flozell has in mind for each of you, and we’ll set up the supports to help you keep those poses. The supports are those thin metal rods with the bases over there. There are also some triangle blocks to place under your feet in case the mannequins will be wearing heels. Next you’ll be taking a shower with my special formula crème that has three functions: Softens your skin, removes all unnecessary hair, and leaves a thin waxy film on your skin. The wax is there for the next step. You’ll be brought back in here and reset into the poses again. While you’re in position, we’re going to be using a new 3d printer scanner to capture every nook and cranny on you. The wax helps reflect the scanner’s laser. This is what’ll take the most time, so you will not be able to move until the scan is completed. There will be a chance to use the bathroom before the shower stage, and after the shower you will both be given a bottle of flavored water. This water was also developed by me, and it is designed to keep a person from dehydrating over a 24 hour period. It also has a lot of potassium in it to keep your muscles from cramping while in your pose. When the scan is completed, you’ll take another shower to remove the wax. After that, it’s home to bed, or to whatever you might wanna do. Now, any questions?” Paula Shook her head. “Nope, just tell me where to put my clothes.” Mary was hesitant. “No one told me about any nudity,” she stammered. “And what about this ‘hair removal’?” “We have to make your skin as smooth as possible,” Abigail said. “The human body has hair follicles on almost every part of their body except the soles of their feet. Even the smallest hair on your body can cause havoc with the scan. We do have a thicker wax for your eyebrows, and pubic hair if you want to keep it. The crème will not be used close around your eyes themselves, so your eyelashes will be safe. The hair on your heads will be covered with a shower cap throughout the showers and scanning process. The top of your heads will be covered with a wig anyway, so the little bumps and valleys will be hidden up there. “The nudity part should be self explanatory. We make lifelike mannequins. You had already known that Flozell’s wanted lifelike mannequins. We cannot make them lifelike if you do not want a complete mold of your body created.” Mary didn’t seem convinced, as she clutched the top of her blouse tightly. “Will you get over it?” Paula complained as she was already down to her stockings, “It’s no big deal. I’ve seen you wearing bikinis smaller than the underwear you have on right now. Stop being a baby and become a professional model!” The cajoling of her friend was enough to spur Mary on. She started to slowly remove her clothing. Renee was already gathering up Paula’s things as Abigail took Mary’s blouse. Becky headed over to the supports and started moving them around the floor. “Are either one of the mannequins going to need joints, or are these solid ones?” Becky asked Renee. “One and one,” Renee replied as she picked up the last of Paula’s clothes. “Paula is going to be solid pose and Mary will have ten joints. Both will be in four inch heels.” “Gotcha. Paula, come over here, please, and stand on this display stand. Careful, the metal is a little cold.” Becky motioned with her hand to the metal disc on the floor to the right. She walked over to the far corner and picked up four metal triangles. These were the feet supports for the future use of the shoes. She came back and put two of the triangles on the disc Paula was tiptoeing across and the other two on the disc next to it. The two triangles slid into small slots in the bottom of the disc about 8 inches apart. Paula was directed to turn around and rest her feet on them like they were shoes. “Now describe the pose you want,” Becky asked, “And try to be a little more specific than last time, will you?” She walked over to get one of the supports to balance Paula on the stand by placing it against the small of her back. “She gave you a hard time?” Paula asked, “She seems like the type to do that.” “No I didn’t!” Renee retorted, defending her honor, “You didn’t hear very well! “Whatever,” Becky replied, “So how do you want her?” Becky walked over and lifted Paula’s right arm at the wrist up to slightly above her right shoulder with her elbow fully bent, her palm facing her shoulder. She took the girl’s left hand and put it in front of her, like she was carrying a beach bag in front of her legs, but held her hand right above the level of her crotch. She then turned the girl’s head slightly to the left then took a step back to take a look. Not satisfied, she stepped closer again and turned the girl’s hips slightly to the right. “Can we take her right leg back a bit? Make it look like she’s walking?” “Sure,” Becky replied. She bent down and moved the triangle under Paula’s right foot back three slots. Paula repositioned her weight as best she could without losing the pose. Renee stepped back again and liked what she saw. “That’s perfect. Hold it right there. Would you like my help to set the supports?” Renee offered. Becky nodded yes, and they set to work. They used two supports for the left arm and one support with a cup on the end for the right elbow. Another with what looked like half of a halo on the end of it was adjusted to fit right behind her neck, in order to keep her back straight. Becky now realized that she would’ve taken forever setting this up by herself with only one good hand. Once they were finished, Paula was free to step off of the stand. Now it was Mary’s turn. Because Mary’s was going to be jointed, the pose was simple. She just had to stand on the base with her legs eight inches apart but parallel, her arms out from her side on a thirty degree angle with her palms facing forward, and a slight bend in her elbows. After they set the stands for Mary, both girls had their measurements taken. Mary was five foot four inches tall, 108 lbs, 34 inch chest C cup, 26 inch waist, and 36 inch hips. Paula was five foot eight inches tall, 115 lbs, 36 inch chest D cup, 26 inch waist, 34 inch hips. From there, they went to take a shower. The shower was in the lab, which was the next room over. Mary wasn’t too happy about walking through a warehouse in her underwear, but her friend shamed her again into doing something that she wouldn’t normally do. Because Becky’s eye had not healed enough from her incident, Abigail had to open the retinal scanner lock. The door opened and everyone filed inside, with Mary being the fastest. Becky led them all past the tables with the scientific equipment to the row of showers on the far right wall. “Here we are,” she said triumphantly. She opened a box on the table closest to the showers and pulled out two bathing caps, two bath robes, and two pairs of slippers, all still in their original packaging. Renee placed the clothes from both girls inside the now empty box. “First thing we have to do is protect your hair. These caps should fit tight enough so they won’t move on your heads. They have little drawstrings in the back to get them tight, like surgical gowns. Abigail, Renee, please help them with these.” While they fumbled with the shower caps, Becky went over to a cabinet under another table and collected two white tins and a dark plastic bag. One tin had a black lid and the other had a brown lid. She carried all three items over to the girls. The shower caps were firmly in place by the time she got back to them. “In this bag,” she explained while holding it up for all to see, “Is beeswax. This is what’s going onto your eyebrows to protect them. It’ll also be used for your pubics, if you still have them and wanna keep them.” “There’s a bald beaver over here,” Paula announced while raising her hand. “I have a bikini wax,” Mary squeaked with a hint of shame. “I don’t need to keep it, unless if it hurts to remove it.” “The hair removal is painless,” Becky said, “There’s lidocaine inside the crème, so you won’t feel a thing.” Mary meekly nodded her approval. The beeswax was applied to both girls eyebrows and they were directed towards the showers. First, they cleaned themselves with regular soap to remove all of the loose dirt and oils. The water was turned off and they dried themselves. Abigail and Renee put on rubber gloves and started applying the crème to both girls. The black lid tin was used on Paula and the brown lid tin was used on Mary. It was applied liberally to every part of their bodies, including the soles of their feet. Both girls were instructed to apply it to their own nether regions and breasts, but to not place it inside themselves. Once completely covered, they had to wait five minutes before washing it off. The crème washed off rather quickly, and it seemed to Mary that less went down the drain than went on her body. Both girls did have a waxy appearance to their skin now, and their skin was the smoothest it has ever been. “Wow!” Paula exclaimed, “This stuff’s incredible! I wanna buy a gallon of it from you!” “I have to admit,” Mary added, “My skin has never felt this soft or creamy before in my life. You should sell it in your stores, Ms. Flozell.” “That’s a discussion for another time,” Renee replied. “I agree,” Becky added, “But let’s get finished here. Who needs a potty break? As soon as we start the scanning, we can’t stop for a couple of hours.” “I’ll take them both down, just to be safe,” Abigail said. “We’ll be right back.” She gave each girl a bath robe and slippers. They put them on and all three headed for the door. “Bring them back to the mannequin room,” Becky said as they started walking. “What flavor of water do you two want? Cherry, grape, fruit punch, lemonade, or watermelon?” “I’ll have the fruit punch,” Mary answered on her way out the door. Paula followed closely behind, but stopped at the door and looked back. “I’ll take vodka,” she replied. “If you don’t have that, I’ll take grape.” **************** Paula and Mary both drank down their flavored waters fairly quickly, probably now eager to get this job done. Mary definitely was no longer comfortable with doing this any more, and was going to tell Paula later that evening that she wasn’t going to continue to pursue the modelling career. This experience was not what she expected, nor wanted, and didn’t want to go through it again. Paula simply had an uneasy feeling about that scientist. She could’ve sworn that little nerdling was ogling her while she was in the shower. The faster they got out of there with their big payday, the better. As soon as the last drop was out of their respective bottles, they were directed to their stands and told to take their previous poses without the bath robes or slippers. The shower caps were to remain on. While they were down in the bathroom on the first floor, Becky and Renee had set up the scanning light towers, with four scanners to each girl. They took to their poses, then Renee took one final inspection of each girl. Satisfied, the girls were given final instructions. Now is the hardest part of all,” Becky said. “Neither one of you can move at all. Smile as long as you can and keep the blinking to a minimum. Do not speak to each other because that makes the front of your neck and most of your face move. Any movement at all will make us have to start all over again. We’re gonna leave the room to keep from distracting you, but we will be monitoring you from the lab. Good luck!” And, with that, the three women left, and closed the door behind them. A few seconds later, the red lights on the scanner towers came alive. ‘Good, almost done,’ Mary thought to herself, ‘I can do this. Fifty thousand dollars and then I’m done.’ ‘After I get my money and blow up doll,’ Paula thought to herself, ‘I’m gonna break that little dyke’s other hand. Who does she think she is? What does she think I am? What a freak!’ About ten minutes went by without either girl moving. To Mary it seemed like six months. She was starting to get antsy, as well as a little lightheaded. Her eyes were also feeling dried out, and, for some odd reason, she couldn’t shut them. ‘That’s it, I’ve had enough,’ Mary thought, ‘No amount of money is worth this hassle.’ ‘Stay put and stop talking!’ ‘Who said that?’ Mary asked in her head. She immediately believed that standing still like this had made her insane. Normal sane people don’t hear other people’s voices in their heads! ‘Who the hell do you think?!? It’s me! Paula! Now shut up before they hear you! I don’t wanna start this over!’ ‘Paula? I’m not talking out loud. This is in my head. I am officially going insane. Doing this is making me insane. Paula, if this really is you, I’m getting off this stand and going home.” Mary tried to take a step forward, but nothing happened. She tried to swing her arms forward for the momentum. Again, nothing happened. Her fear of insanity suddenly gave way to panic. ‘Stay where you are, Plain Jane! You can do this!’ ‘Paula! I can’t move at all! My body won’t move! I can’t even close my eyes! Help me! Please, help me!’ Mary went from panic to full-fledged terror. ‘AAAAHHHHH!!!! HELP ME!!!!’ ‘Mary, I can’t move or shut my own eyes too! I’m not talking! Can you hear me?!? What the fuck is going on?!?’ ‘You’re now mannequins, dip shits.’ ‘Who said that?!?’ Mary cried, ‘Please help me!!!’ ‘Yeah, help us!!!’ ‘There’s no help coming, so give it up. Quit shouting, you’re gonna give us all headaches.’ ‘Who the fuck are you?!?’ Paula demanded, ‘Why the fuck don’t you get off your ass and help us!!’ ‘I can’t help because I’m the blonde mannequin close to your friend there.’ ‘I can’t see no one! Stop fucking with me!’ ‘Wait,’ Mary whimpered, ‘The corner of my eye… shoulder length blonde hair, large breasts?’ ‘Yep, that’s me. In all of my now plastic glory.’ ‘What’s happening to us?!?’ Mary pleaded, ‘How can we talk but not move?!?’ ‘My name’s Taylor, by the way, thanks for asking. You are being turned into lifelike mannequins. The evil cunts who work here turn real live people into lifeless store window dummies for profit. They made me like this at the request of my boyfriend. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. He never came to get me. Now I’m hoping someone comes along and buys me. I’d love to be wearing something silky against my skin. Something sexy. ‘When they change you, they let you keep your mind intact. I don’t know if it’s intentional to be cruel, or if it’s just a side effect of the transition. We do however have the ability to talk to each other through telepathy. We can’t communicate with living things, but we can keep our sanity through chatting. You two are only half transformed, so the range of your telepathy will get larger. Some of these other mannequins are okay, and you’ll get to like them if you stay here long enough. ‘Another thing you’ll find is that all of your physical sensations will be increased dramatically, and I do mean dramatically. Did you ever have an orgasm from someone simply brushing by your nipple? Soon you will. Flip side is that you’ll get the same results from pain. Nothing can kill you, aside for fire or shredding, but you can feel like you were shot in the skull just by falling over. By the way, what’s the weather like outside?’ ‘Help me, God! Please Help!!!’ Mary screamed. ‘Oh, we are so fucked,’ Paula said. A little time later, the door opened and in walked Abigail, Renee, and Becky. Becky was pushing her computer table in and headed over towards Paula. “Abigail, can you please unplug these lights before I have a seizure?” Becky asked as she pushed the cart in front of the Paula mannequin. Abigail walked behind the new mannequins and the light towers went dark shortly afterwards. Becky took two electrode pads out of the drawer of the table and placed each one under both of the mannequin’s nipples. “So, Eric carried her out this morning in that box you helped him move?” Renee asked, obviously continuing a conversation from earlier. “Yep,” she replied as she continued to work on the electrodes, and now the leads from them to the computer, “I beat on her for almost a week, but didn’t penetrate her. I left her a virgin for his crew. It was great therapy for me. Now, how big did you want these?” ‘What are they doing to me now?’ Paula asked. “How about two more cup sizes? Bigger but not humongous,” Renee replied. “Leave them soft as well. The rest of the body can stay hard, but it would work out great if its tits had some bounce.” “Big and bouncy. Check.” Becky typed on her keyboard for about thirty seconds, then Paula felt a burning pressure build across her chest. It was a mix of pleasure and pain, but mostly pleasure. It gave her the greatest orgasm of her life, and she never wanted it to stop. Sadly it did, as soon as Becky pulled off the electrodes. “How’s that?” “Excellent,” Renee said quietly. She then reached out and grabbed a handful of the newly expanded tit flesh, sending another orgasm through the mannequin. “Yes, this will do nicely.” ‘Oh my God, Paula, did you just cum?!?’ Mary scolded. ‘Twice, and not by choice, but I loved every second of it. I hope someone grabs my tits again! I’ll even settle for the dyke!’ “We won’t be able to put the joints on the other one for another hour, so you up for some gin rummy?” asked Becky to Renee. “Sure,” she replied, “But first, tell me about that black mannequin back there. Do you have any more? I would like to put more ethnic looking ones in our stores. It should increase our sales in our northern stores.” “That’s the only one we have right now,” Abigail replied. “African American material is hard to come by in this town. We have to search farther away to get viable molds. If you can get your own molds, and some new molds for us, we can possibly rework our contract. I can let you have that one for five thousand.” “Deal. I’ll also take this blonde with the big tits here. It’ll look good in our automotive department, selling windshield wipers from the gap between her tits.” “Good. Let’s go do some paperwork. Becky, do you need help putting the computer away?” “Nah, I’m good. I’ll meet you in your office in a few minutes.” With that being said, all three women left the room. ‘Adding joints?’ Mary asked, ‘What do they mean by adding joints?’ ‘I don’t care,’ replied Paula, ‘I need someone to grab my tits! Please! Anybody!’ ‘So much for your friend there,’ Taylor said, ‘She’s gone now. Sucked up into the big O. I’ll be there soon, too. All those men pulling and putting things between my tits…ah I can’t wait! You, on the other hand, should be scared shitless. In order to add joints, they have to cut your body up. See these gaps between our body parts? They didn’t grow there. The cunts used a large hacksaw and cut us up. They then use plastic glue to add the pivots and hinges to the open holes that used to be our bodies so we can be posed the way they want us. They have to wait until you turn totally to hollow plastic, then they’ll begin dissecting you. It will take a few hours, and you’ll feel every tooth in the blade. First, the hole in your back for your support rod. Then the cuts begin. Three cuts in each arm, one cut in each hip, one cut across your waist, and finally the hardest cut: across your neck. Even after all of that, the worst thing that can happen is that you can’t die from it, no matter how much you wish for it. Try and be brave kiddo, and hopefully we’ll be set up in the same store.’ ‘Why me?’ Mary sobbed, ‘I never wanted to be a model to begin with!!!’ ...

Well after much waiting in the lobby, the tour of the new android maid factory was now underway, as you and about 20 other people follow the tour guide through a set of big double doors out into a long glass tunnel overlooking the factory. Kara smiled as she fixed her bandana in her long brown hair. She had been looking forward to this tour for ages, Androids had become a big thing, from waitresses to personal maids, they were everywhere. Now she finally got to see how they were made. Being an engineering enthusiast, she couldn’t wait to see all the hidden technical stuff that went on here. She stayed to the back of the group so she could look as long as she wanted, she had to smirk at the fact the tour guide herself was an android following a program. As the tour group continued on you pass by loads of conveyor belts all whizzing various parts here there and everywhere and for the life of you, you couldn’t work out what was happening you try asking the robot tour guide but she just replied that it was a secret and you weren’t allowed to know what happened step by step as she continued talking about the history of the factory, a bit fed up of such a silly secret and the tour was boring you decide to find the answer yourself, you see a door to your right that read staff only and it led out onto a little catwalk. Kara grinned and glanced around, making sure none of the group was looking she quickly darted out through the door and onto the catwalk. Seeing the arms moving around and how close the conveyors were she grinned “now this is the tour I wanted” she said to herself walking along the catwalk. The cat walk was directly above one of the conveyor belts that was carrying the hollow shell’s of the maid androids and was carrying them into a box-like tunnel with plastic strips over the entrance, the conveyor also had 2 tall plastic walls that stopped any parts falling off, looking down at the conveyor you notice a clip-board with a map of the factory as you bend over to get it, an android worker starts walking down the cat walk and bumps into you, pushing you through the bars of the handrail and sending you tumbling down until you land on your rear end, spot on the centre of the belt, the map had also fallen down right on top of your face, the page had also turned showing a picture of a parts washing machine, with a brief description “the wonder washer MK 4 is the number one choose for washing mechanical pa…”. ...

story continues from Part-Time Prototype The evening was just what they both wanted. Ryan, having opened his wife from the company’s delivery, takes her into the bedroom. She pretends to be a lovedoll, even though she had all of the glossing material removed from her, as well as her mask, while he pretended to be a customer of his company. He enjoyed the ability to undress her and play with her, while she enjoyed being pampered by him (she literally never lifted a finger to help). He was careful in his foreplay and love making, trying to hold his climax for as long as possible so that she could have numerous climaxes herself. He was a little surprised she only finished once, but maybe she was not as turned on by this as he was. They cuddled throughout the evening, enjoying each other completely. It was a great night for both, and neither really wanted it to end. When the Sun was starting to come up, she awoke before him as she usually does. She showered and got herself cleaned up and stepped back into the bedroom. He had not stirred yet, but knew his alarm clock would wake him soon. She was off from work again today (mandatory “vacation” due to budget cutbacks), and figured she might could have a little more fun. Grabbing her “rental” outfit from the floor, she walks quietly back into the living room where the transport container sat. Loading her outfit into the side compartment for “accessories”, she lays down on the backerboard again. Maybe, she thinks, he will want another round before work. She hears his alarm go off, and him moving to get out of bed. Hoping he might look for her first, she is disappointed that he goes to the shower instead. Ah well, she thinks, it was worth a try. Before she can get up, their front door opens. Shocked by the noise and movement, she freezes in place. She hears foot steps and robot tires. Who could be barging into our home? she wonders. Before she can protest, she feels a series of zip ties slip behind her backerboard and around her wrists and ankles and waist. Within seconds, rubber bands are then attached around her as well, firmly locking her onto the board. “Ok, Z10, check the tag before we box it up,” a male voice says. She can hearing some beeps then slight pressue on her ear lobe. Another set of beeps, then he says, “Ok, love doll checked in. Box it up and let’s get out of here. Hate making small talk…” At this point, Emma is not sure what to do. She should say she is not a love doll, but then, would that get back to Saul and Ryan if she does? How embarrassing would it be to be found out by some stranger. I mean, surely I do not look that much like a love doll, but then, do I want to risk being found out? Unsure of what to do, she waits while the robot boxes her up, muffling all sounds thereafter. As she is wheeled out the door, she can hear her husband saying something. The man replies with something else, but she cannot make it out. Ryan knows I am in here, so maybe he is trying to get the delivery guy to leave me, or maybe he thinks this is part of my plan. Either way, she is pushed out to the waiting truck and loaded on a shelf with other rental love dolls. Well, she wonders, guess I’m headed back to the factory. Emma was right about it all: Ryan did think this was part of the plan, making him enjoy it even more, and she was on her way back to the factory. She was unloaded with the others and sent through processing. She was scanned and then removed from the backerboard. She was dumped into a shallow tray and then stretched out to fill it completely. Along with the other dolls, she is washed lightly, buffed gently, dried thoroughly, and sent to another part of the factory. Huh, Emma sniffs, I like the scent of this soap they used, maybe jasmine or lavender? With her sister love dolls, each tray is sent to the repurposing room. This conveyor belt starts and stops repeatedly. She eventually figures it out when her turn is up. A lady at a console is receiving orders to be filled. Each love doll tray pauses in front of her to be sent to a particular part of the factory for repurposing. When Emma’s tray stops in front of her, she bends over and cups her left breast. “Wow, the new realistic prototype getting her first test in the public.” She whistled softly and adds, “Well, better make it a good one but a short one. Prototypes have a smaller range for renting.” As she hums slightly, Emma waits, so desperately wanting to know what will happen to her. She is not scared, because as a prototype, she knows she will be treated gently. However, she is a little nervous, wondering where she might end up. Finally, her and the tray start up again, moving to another part of the factory. She passes through multiple tunnels on her conveyor, ending up in another larger room of the factory. A dark goo is added to her tray, where it is stirred by some type of ultrasonic device. She is then flipped over in the goo, giving her a good coat of the liquid. After this process repeats two more times, she is dumped onto a table. Robotic arms stretch her out and begin buffing her body with small rotating, soft brushes. Ooo, she giggles, that kinda tickles. Once they have buffed her, each of her finger and toe nails are painted black. Her lips and eye liner are also painted black. She is then fitted with another vagina cover, which is placed in her not as carefully as she had done the first time. A mouth cover is also placed in her mouth and partially down her throat. Her mouth is now stuck in a smile, but it seems bigger than the mask she wore before. Colored contacts are added then her eyes are sealed open, all moisture locked in. She tries to blink, but she can’t. Oh how strange this is, she thinks, I don’t have to blink anymore, but my body keeps trying to. Her heart, which was racing when the her eyes were first sealed, giving her quite a scare, has started to slow down as everything that has happened to her seems harmless. She is pulled into a standing position next to the table. The robotic arms release her, leaving her standing at attention. Ok, she wonders, what do I do next? As if her thoughts were heard, two young men walk in the room pushing a cart with a bin on it. “…so it is like he didn’t know. Crazy, right?” Pretending she is not real, she continues to hold her stance. The one man pulls out a device and scans her ear again. “Alright, the number matches…we can dress the prototype.” Pulling the clothes out of the bin, the two guys start dressing and groping her at the same time. It is clear they enjoy their job, maybe a little too much, Emma reasons. Within moments, they have put some type of leathery outfit on her. She cannot move her eyes to see what it is, but she recognizes the feel of it. I wonder what I will be? Once she is dressed, they lay her back on the table, which now has a backerboard on it. She recognizes that feeling as zipties and rubber bands are added to her, strapping her tightly to the board. They slide her in a box, where she started her day, with a clear window around her face. As they push her out of the room, she is still wondering who is she and where she is going? She travels on her back around many different hallways. She eventually is pushed into the garage (I have seen this ceiling before) and loaded onto a truck. Time has no real meaning when you are strapped tightly to a board, so she waits for the truck to start moving. Nearly an hour would pass, before the truck would be started up and driven out of the garage. She bounces with her “sisters” in the truck, until it finally stops and she is unloaded. The driver pushes her box on a cart into a store of some type. The driver says something to somebody, who answers, but she cannot really make anything out. She is tipped up, slid off the cart, then laid back down on the floor. She can hear the box being opened. Then finally, she is slid out of the box. Two older women wearing red polos and khakis look down at her and grin broadly. “This will definitely boost Thanksgiving sales.” Thanksgiving sales? Emma wonders. Picking her up, they lift her up onto a stand in the store. As Emma looks around, she feels something penetrate her. Oh my, she screams internally, that is cold. The ladies position her on the stand, even going so far as to brush and braid her long hair. As they step back, they say together and nod, “Pocahontas!” Ah, Emma finally says to herself, that explains the dark goo they rolled me around in back at the factory. For the rest of the day, one customer after another came into the department store. They bought many different things, but they all made positive comments about her, especially the men. It was another flattering day for her. As she stood there like an inanimate object, she began to feel that craving for more than just a pole in her. Ugh, she thinks with contempt, that medicine just works overtime. I wonder if I could rock myself up and down on this thing. Trying to look around, but her contact sealed eyes prevent any movement of them, she decides she should not risk it. At the end of the day, a different store worker comes by. The middle aged man looks like he might be the manager. “Well, Pocahontas,” he says in a way that Emma is not too happy about, “Time to get you home.” Uh oh, I think my day is not done yet. As if she was prophesying the future, Emma is lifted off her stand and loaded on a cart and put in the back of his SUV. Well, here we go again. She bounces loosely in the back for almost hour as he drives home. When he pulls her out, she can see that he lives on a small farm outside of town. He carries her under his arm into the large farmhouse. The inside looks cluttered with lots of furniture and knick-knacks. I wonder how long he has lived here, she wonders. Judging from the amount of junk, she reasons, he has lived here alone for quite some time. Taking her into the bedroom, he drops her on the bed and leaves. She can hear him making some food in the kitchen. Food? Mmm, that smells good, she thinks enviously, I could go for something like that. Within 30 minutes, he is back in he bedroom with a glass of water. Standing her up, he bends her over and puts her hands on the bed. Spreading her legs, he checks under her leather skirt, “Ah, good, no panties.” He goes into the bathroom and then returns. She cannot see him now, as she is facing away from him, but she can feel him come up from behind her. His limp unit begins to grind on her butt. Guess, this is the foreplay. After several minutes, she wonders when he is going to actually get hard. I mean, she thinks impatiently, I’m already ready. Finally, he cusses and reaches for the bedside table. “I was hoping you could get him up.” She wonders what he is saying, as she hears him gulp down some water. “well, guess we will do it as usual,” he says quietly to the room. He returns to get behind her, when she feels him grind her butt again. Uh, she thinks, still nothing, man. In a few minutes, he grunts and shakes. “Oh, finally,” he says softly. And with that, Emma feels his unit go from flabby to hard. She almost makes an audible sound as he penetrates her. “Yes, yes,” he say louder now, “That’s it, mmm.” Emma realizes he needs help getting hard, and he thought a love doll would work. She feels kinda sad for him, when he fills her with his load. Well, he still has plenty to share. He leaves her and goes back into the bathroom. In a few minutes, he returns and penetrates her again with his hard unit. He does this 3 more times. Mmm, Emma wonders, maybe I can get some of this stuff for Ryan, this guy is a machine. At some point in the middle of the night, he is empty. So, he pulls her into bed with him and sleeps with her until morning. Ah, this is actually kinda nice, Emma thinks as she drifts off to sleep. When the Sun starts to come up, Emma stretches and gets out of bed. She pads into the bathroom to relieve her personal pressure. As she finishes up, she hears noises from the other room. She curses silently, oh crap, I’m supposed to be a love doll and not a human. She tiptoes back into the bedroom, as the man is rolling over towards her. She quickly collapses onto the floor and lays still. She can see his face peak over the side of the bed, “Oh my, did I knock you off?” He apologizes and pulls her back into bed with him. She breathes a sigh of relief, whew, that was close. Pushing her below him, he pulls the covers over her. “Now, my dear,” he says while positioning her head to his limp unit, “Let’s see what you can do with this.” Her mouth can be easily openned by a hard unit, but his limp one does nothing but grind on her cheeks or under her chin. She feels sorry for him, as he has trouble “getting it up”. I wonder if I can help him, she thinks. As he continues to try to stimulate himself, she manages to open her mouth enough so that on one of his passes, her lips slide across him, making it tingle, so that it starts to stiffen. She knows this is new to him, as he gasps slightly when it happens, stopping momentarily. Continuing to open her mouth a bit wider, she manages to catch his stiffening unit in her mouth. He goes from semi-soft to hard almost immediately. She can hear his squeal, almost like a little girl. He starts pumping even faster now, trying to keep this going. Emma decides to rest her mouth muscles, so her natural shape closes around him tightly. For the next few minutes, he tries and tries to finish. He just cannot seem to climax. He is close, but not quite. Once again, Emma feels sorry for him, even though she is getting nothing out of this. Working her mouth is not easy with her special covering on the inside and out, but she is able to apply some added pressure on him. So she alternates pressure and no-pressure as he pumps her, much slower than he started. Her little bit of help is enough to reharden him, and then he starts to moan. She notices him jerk a bit in her covered mouth. Ah, she figures, he is about to fill me up. And just like that, he climaxes, his first in years without help from prescription medication. As her mouth quickly fills up, her ears are filled by his screams of joy and delight. “Yes, oh yes, yes. Yes! YES!!” He yells loudly as he collapses back on the bed, breathing heavy. Emma cannot help but feel some pride in helped this cute little man with something that seems so natural to others, but not to him. She continues to store his load in her mouth, as the covering does its job. In a few minutes, he pulls her up to a sitting position on the bed’s headboard. “Well, my dear,” he says to her breathlessly, “You are by far the best lover I have ever had.” As he looks into her eyes, he puts his hand on her jaw. “Now, if you will be so kind as to take care of the clean-up.” As he massages her jaw, Emma feels something happening to her mouth covering. What is going on…oh, it’s…gulp! I guess he knows how the new lovedolls work: each has a mouth covering to store the man’s deposit temporarily. The covering can be removed if the semen is needed for collecting, or it can be released to the lovedolls repository. Yuck, she grimaces on the inside, I could have done without that part. He kisses her on the cheek and goes to the bathroom. He showers, shaves, and dresses for the day. Once he is ready, he packages her back up and takes her to his car. Faster than she remembers, she is back at the department store. As is she leaned against the wall, she can hear him on the phone,"…another day… good… contract… thanks… but… please…" Is he trying to rent me for another day? As she wonders how that might work, she hears the front door open. Her box is pushed around, so that she can see a delivery man from her husband’s company. Too late, man, she says to herself as she watches him watch her with a sadden face, I’m off to the factory for clean-up. The trip back to the factory is uneventful, just like the clean-up process. She has been through it so often, she is used to it. Actually, she thinks with a giggle, I think I prefer it over my usual shower. Exiting the machine, she travels onto to another room and deposited onto a cart. Maintaining her neutral pose, she feels the cart begin to move as someone pushes it from behind. She travels down the hallway and into an elevator. She continues down another hallway, the noise of the office building surrounding her. Eventually, she is pushed into an office, the door closing swiftly. A well-known voice says, “We are alone, my love doll.” Sitting up quickly, she embraces her husband as he leans into her. A long kiss is followed by, “I missed you,” which was then followed by another long kiss. “Glad you missed me,” he adds, “You have provided another very happy customer, so I have a new job for you.” She pulls away and asks, “A new job? But I already have a job at the Amazon Distribution Center.” He nods as he walks over to his desk. “I know, I know, but this job would be more to your… liking.” She makes a confused face, asking for more information. Stepping back from her, he begins explaining, “Our company wants to start production of our newest realistic line of love dolls. You, of course, are our model, and they want you, uh I mean, the copies of you in production as soon as possible. So,” he pauses then continues, “You will be hired as the full-time prototype. You will be scanned in the Plotter then that data will be sent to the factory floor for production. You will be kept in Quality Control area to be used to check every finished model to make sure they match you.” Up to now, Emma had been nodding her head, figuring this would be still temporary, but as he continues, it seemed to be more permanent. “Uh,” she interrupts, “Do I get to come out? I mean, this is fun and all, but I don’t want to be stuck in your building forever.” He holds up his hands and replies, “Don’t worry, I got a plan. All prototypes can be purchased once the line has received a 98% compliance level rating.” Emma starts to say something, when he finishes with, “Usually takes a couple of days on that first run, so I will ‘buy’ you as soon as I can, getting you out of Quality Control. Then, you will be ‘hired’ through Saul’s department as a product tester. No one will know who you really are and what you really do but Saul and me, your owner.” He said the last part with a wink. Emma almost tears up with happiness, “You are going to buy me and give me a home and a job? First you say ‘I do’ then you come to my rescue and buy me.” Overcome with joy, she jumps into his arms. He holds her tightly, enjoying this special moment, but then he sets her down. “Before I do though, I need to ask you something.” She can tell he is being unusually serious now, and she steps back from him. “Uh, well, you see… after talking with Saul, but not to you, I just want to make sure that all this is just… I mean, you’re not so unhappy that…” It is her turn to interrupt him, “Oh, my love, I would never do anything to hurt you or break up our marriage. This is not because of you… it’s not!” Hearing it from her, he embraces her again. “I love you,” he says. She replies, “I love you, too.” As they begin to kiss, they hear the door open to his office. Stiffening on cue, Emma stands rigid, as Ryan turns to face the door. Jace barges in as usual without knocking. “Say, boss,” he asks while pointing at Emma, “They are ready for the love slut down in Plotting.” Ryan nods his head, cutting his eyes quickly at Emma. “Right, she… uh, it is ready. I was just making a final check.” Jace walks up to them both, “I know, right? I would be double checking her all the time,” giving Emma a playful slap on her naked butt cheek. “Well, you better get her… uh, it down there.” Ryan says quickly as he starts towards the door. Jace picks her up and lays her on the cart. With a rough push, Emma, Ryan, and Jace leave the office, turning the light off as they go. A new normal for their life has begun… Epilogue Emma spends nearly a week in Quality Control, as Ryan smuggles in food and water at night, giving her a chance to rest and go to the bathroom. Jace sneaks into Quality Control each morning to take the newest prototype for a quick “test ride.” Ryan buys the latest realistic love doll prototype for twice as much as usual, having her delivered to his (their) home. Saul gets a raise and promotion, just like Ryan. He continues to help keep the secret that Emma is actually a real person, as she is put into the regular rotation for rentals weekly, always ending up each time at her house after a thorough cleaning.

Woman to Sexdoll TF Natasha was a lot of things. Beautiful, smart, and fun are just a few of the traits she claims for herself when asked. But she knew she wasn’t as talented as other people. Here she was, a recent college graduate with a degree in programming and yet she was working a boring desk job instead of something exciting. Her name was Natasha Brown, a 5’5 woman at the age of 23. Short black hair sat atop her head and framed her pale face and green eyes perfectly. She always dressed in business casual with tighter tops to accentuate her large B-cup breasts more. Her hips and backside draw enough attention as is so she doesn’t tend to worry about showing off in that regard. She was tempted to just give up and go work for some random small time company until one day she received an email. “Dear Miss Brown, We here at the Shadytree Toy Company love what you could potentially bring to our company. We wish to offer you a full-time position with our team as the lead machine operator and programmer. If you accept our offer you can start one week from today at the factory in South San Francisco. Hope to see you there, Darryl Shadytree.” After reading the email she was over the moon. Finally, an opportunity to show what she could do and make a profession out of what she loves. She immediately packed up her things and handed in a rather rushed resignation letter. She wasn’t concerned with that though, she was ready to get home and prep for her new job. The week passed quickly and she could not be more excited to arrive at her new workplace. She hopped in her car wearing her usual attire and drove to the company. Upon arrival, she parked her car outside of a rather large building that had both an office section and what appeared to be a large factory. Grabbing her purse, she walked into the large double doors and came face-to-face with a gorgeous blonde-haired woman in a tight black business dress. “Um… hello ma’am. I am here for my first day on the job,” she said a little timidly pushing some hair behind her ear. The woman looked up and smiled at her. “Oh! You must be Natasha! My name is Kennedy and if you are ready to start I can show you to your office and then give you a tour!” the voluptuous blonde said happily as she bounced up and down and grabbed Natasha’s arm. She gave her a quiet “…yes” before she yanked her down the hall to a rather neat office space nearest the back of the office portion in the building. Quickly she opened the door and gave her the rundown of the room. After placing her bag on the desk, the secretary dragged her through a large metal door and into a large open floored factory. “Now I am sure you read the spreadsheet with all of the data on the machines we use here right?” she asked pointing around at the large machines that were starting to run for the first time that day. “Of course, I would be an awful worker if I didn’t study my craft before I started working on them.” Natasha said proudly. She smiled at her kindly. “That is a great start sweetie, but do you know what we make here?” Natasha just raised an eyebrow at the woman and nodded. “Of course, it was all in the name. I assume you make children’s toys and other things in that vein of business.” A beautiful, melodic laugh carried up to Natasha’s ears. Kennedy was laughing with a huge grin on her face. It took a moment but she composed herself and dragged her over to one of the now moving conveyor belts. “Oh honey. You are in for a shock. No we don’t make children’s toys… we make adult toys,” she said with a smirk as she reached down and pulled a large dildo off of the belt and held it out towards her. She dropped it into Natasha’s hands and giggled. Natasha at this point was blushing a raging red and had her jaw on the floor. Kennedy just kept laughing and led the blushing girl through the remainder of the factory. She showed her all of the machines that made things like dildos and anal beads. Laughing all the way as the new worker realized what she had signed up for. When Kennedy finally stopped near the front of the building, Natasha spoke up. “So is that it? I may not have known it was a sex shop, but that doesn’t change the fact I want to work here.” The buxom blonde shook her head. “I am glad you are taking this so well. However, there is still one more stop and this one will make or break your future here.” She said rather ominously as she stepped into the viewing area, expecting the black-haired girl to follow. After a brief moment of hesitation, she did so. Once inside her jaw hung loosely once more as she saw a machine moving multiple women down a belt and doing many things such as painting and penetrating them. She saw women of all races with open mouths being pounded by metal phalluses or metal arms squeezing their breasts in sequence. “This is our signature line of realistic sex dolls. Our company has been the leader in this department for over seven years and this plant alone ships dolls all over the world. This is our biggest money maker.” Kennedy said before pulling an African-American doll off the finished line and holding it to her. “Welcome to your new job Nat! I hope it becomes more fun than awkward for you over time!” Three months later and her assumption was correct. After getting past the initial awkwardness of working for the rough equivalent of a sex shop, Nat really began to enjoy herself. The machines were fun to learn about and work on. They were very complex and had so many intricate parts that the graduate just loved studying. Just three months in and she was already an expert on most of the things in the factory, and she was starting to experiment. At first it was unimportant things. A dildo made of different material here, or a doll that wouldn’t move out of doggy style there. Nothing serious that she would get in trouble for. But now she was again grasping at straws for something fun to play with. With her shift for the day done, she went home and dedicated the evening to research for ideas. It didn’t take her long to find some inspiration. She spent the entire afternoon browsing some very suggestive websites and reading stories of all sorts. Who knew so many people online were interested in becoming love dolls? Well she guessed there was a fetish for everything, but this one was more common then she thought it would be. After reading until the evening she couldn’t help but be excited. What better way to show her mastery of the doll machine then by making herself into one? There was no other option for the ambitious mechanic now, her mind was set. With a quick message to her boss she told him she would be working on an upgrade for the machine over the next few days so she would not be in. ...

story continued from part one The Misadventures of Kim*Part Two: Power Burns* I don’t even remember most of my time in the factory. It was a dark until someone would come and drop off another mannequin. I was actually very intrigued by the machine. Every time a mannequin was brought in it would be scanned and then the belt under the line of mannequin it was made to look like would move back, emptying a space for the new arrival. My intrigue was the only thing that kept me from panicking. I knew I had been here for at least a full day, probably more, and was starting to worry. I was also no longer at the front of the Wasp section either, I was now at least 10 mannequins back and approaching the back of the line where a beeping was heard every time a model was sent beyond it. I had seen a few people come through and inspect some of the models in front of me but other than that I had no interaction with the outside world. I was starting to think I would spend the remainder of my days as a mannequin. I must have dozed off for a while because I was abruptly awoken by the belt in my row moving backwards and a shadow being cast over me. I gasped as a green grid pattern of light descended from the ceiling and took in the entirety of my still form. Many mechanical ‘whirs’ and ‘clicks’ were made as it scanned me over for a few moments before flashing a sudden and surprising red. “Error, no designated numerical code found for unit. Faulty part installation also detected. Unit to be set aside for review by administrator.” A synthesized voice echoed from all around me. ‘Faulty?’ I thought a little hurt that I wasn’t deemed acceptable enough for the machine’s standards. I didn’t have much time to worry about that however as multiple metal appendages came from all around me and lifted me off of the belt. They carried me for quite a distance before I was gently placed in an even darker room. I don’t know how long it was before my eyes adjusted, my guess was a few hours, but once they did I could see the company I held. I was placed in this room with two other mannequins. One was a replica of Power Girl who had pink hair instead of the normal blonde and the second was a Black Widow model with only one arm. I sighed to myself as I prepared to either be “dismantled” or thrown away with these misfits. It must have been another handful or more of hours before movement sprang to life again. I had spent those hours either sleeping or pretending to hold conversations between myself and the two other inhabitants of my new residence. Once more the arms descended, this time taking the Power Girl model and going through a bright doorway to out left where I heard a single voice that was being muffled through the walls. Around 15 minutes later Black Widow received the same treatment and the voice let out a laugh once the door was closed. Based on my deductive skills the person inspecting us was a male around my age that enjoyed what he did to at least some extent. I only had to wait about half the time of the previous transaction before I was lifted up by the same arms as my sisters in malfunction. The door blinded me but seeing as how my eyelids did not obey my commands I was forced to endure. “Well hello beautiful, what seems to be the problem?” a voice joked as I was lowered to a point where I could view him. The man was roughly my age and wore a business suit that looked like it was thrown on against his will. He was at least a foot and a half taller than me with a lanky build and curly black hair. He walked up to me with a tablet like device in hand and was looking back and forth between it and me. “Well now everything seems to be in order. No barcode huh?” he asked to himself as he reached behind me and pulled up my dress. I would have slapped him but soon enough he returned to my view. “Nope and the wings are a little off. What about the rest of you?” he commented idly as he brushed my hair and tapped the headphone like device. As soon as he did that my body began relaxing and I felt control return to me. Grinning I poked his chest. “The rest of me is just fine buster now hands off the merchandise!” His reaction was absolutely priceless. Immediately he dropped his tablet, let loose a girly scream and fell onto the floor. “You! How?! Mannequin!” he yelled pointing at me with a trembling finger while shakily trying to get up. I grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. “Let’s just say my friend is an idiot who messed up our plan.” Once I got him to calm down I explained to him exactly what happened. He was very intrigued by my story and actively asked me questions about how it felt being what was the equivalent to a living mannequin. It was fun talking to him, and not just because my only other conversations over the last two days had been with other mannequins and completely lopsided. He was kind, offering me water and food while also explaining himself to me. As it turns out his name is Harrison Mackey, the current owner of the company that makes the mannequins. He was a child prodigy who took over for his father when he turned 22 last year. As he explained it to me the company did not just make mannequins. ...

story continued from part two The Misadventures of Kim*Part Three: Scarlet Orders* I had been working for Harrison as an assistant for going on 6 months now and it was so much fun. We had used my power of morphing into different states of matter to do so many things. I had been nearly every super heroin in the book and been trapped in machines countless numbers of times. I was having the time of my life. Currently I was in my normal body typing away at my desk when I got a request to come up to Harrison’s office for a meeting. Shrugging I closed my laptop and walked my way up the stairs and into the large room I had become quite familiar with over the past half-year. “Ah Kim you came really quickly!” Harrison said as he gave me a hug and showed me a seat. “Well when my boss asks for me to come up for a meeting I tend to listen Harry.” I told him with a mock stern tone. We both laughed at the exchange before Harry pushed a button and a screen came up. “Ok the reason I called you up here is because one of our clients has placed an order for one of our robot rentals for a party this weekend and our production line is kaput due to upgrades. I was wondering if you would be willing to fill the order for us?” he asked in a pleading tone. I sighed. Ever since I started working here Harry had begun using me as a product quite often. Not that I minded because I always enjoyed it, but it was becoming more and more frequent. A few months after I became his assistant he unveiled a new robot type of product that could interact with people and yet still have the appearance of one of the life-like sex dolls, minus the obvious intent for boning. I had been one of the first official tests for the machine that made them and had used it as an excuse for being here after hours multiple times. It’s amazing what just pretending to be a robot will do for you when the janitor comes through in the morning. “What’s in it for me?” I asked as he grinned. “Double you normal salary and a week off completely paid in said double salary.” That sold it for me. Almost as soon as the factory was closed down for the night the two of us made our way into the Mannequin factory and found the body I was going to be placed onto. It was a mannequin modeled after Akiza Izinski from Yu-Gi-Oh 5ds and I was enamored with her body. It was busty and feminine in every sense of the words. I couldn’t believe I was about to become her. Soon the second natured transformation overtook me as I became a mannequin version of myself. It took Harrison a few seconds to detach my head from my body and do the same to the Akiza model before swapping our heads and replacing her hair onto my head too. Soon I was reanimated and stumbling at the new giant weights on my chest and the fuller body I was now the proud owner of. “Come along Ms. Izinski we have to get you ready for your assignment” Harrison said as he held the door to the doll factory open for me. “Why thank you Harrison” I said in my new sweet voice as I was led into the deepest portion of the factory. We entered the newly renovated robot making factory that was in the very back of the building and my naked body was anxious to get the process started. I had been almost everything the factory made up to this point, but being programmed for specific purposes sounded interesting. Harrison led me up to the machine where the conveyor belt was full of dolls waiting to be filled with a small electronic mainframe that would control movement and speaking. He instructed me towards one of the hangars towards the back that was empty. I stepped up to the frame and let him strap me into it. The metal was cold but I was excited so I didn’t notice after a brief moment. ...

Woman to Mannequin TF - MoK The Misadventures of Kim* “Look Kim, I just need you to do this! Please!” my best friend since kindergarten, Andrew Henderson yelled as he chased me around the back end of the comic store we both helped run. “I told you Andrew I am not comfortable with this idea and just because you forgot to order the other model doesn’t make me your get out of jail free card.” I stated firmly placing a hand on my hip to prove my point. My name was Kimberly Gloss and alongside my friend Andrew we were a pair of 20 year olds working for a large comic book store in our hometown during the break between college semesters. Andrew was a tall lanky man with short black hair that was a good foot and a half taller than me. He was a geek in all but appearance though and that is why we are such good friends. I on the other hand am short but with a rather attractive body. I had shoulder length brown hair currently pulled up into a ponytail. My chest was a decent high B-Cup which was easily made more acceptable by my shapely curves, ass and thighs. I was a total difference from the pretty girl stereotype though. Andrew and I would often be picked on when we were younger for being the weird nerdy kids. Now however we were just left alone because of our strange social status. Our job at the store was fairly simple. We managed the front store portion of the shop and restocked the inventory. We also placed all of the orders. One of the orders and our current point of argumentation is the fact that not only did Andrew forget to book my pass for the upcoming comic convention where our booth was a staple for the past five years, he also forgot to order a new mannequin like our manager wanted for the booth. “Look just use the one from the display we have, I am not helping you after you fucked up my chances of getting into the biggest con of the year!” I shrieked from the opposite counter. “That’s why this is going to help you! I have a way to get you in without your pass!” he said grabbing my shoulder. I looked up to him and gave him a questioning look. He seemed to get what I meant and led me into the back of the storage room where we kept all of the spare outfits for the display mannequins and other various accessories. Grinning he dug around through the boxes, tossing random pieces of clothing to and fro until he finally pulled a leather or latex black and yellow dress out. “Tadah!” he said triumphantly as he held the outfit near my face. I just left the silence hanging as I waited for an explanation. “Ok look. I know I screwed up really bad but here is how we get you in.” he said gathering a few other articles that looked like they went with the outfit before he walked towards a partially opened shipping crate. Once we reached the crate he handed off the clothes to me as he removed the lid and a cover piece of protective Styrofoam that was under it. He peeled that layer off and revealed an extremely detailed mannequin whose dark blue eyes seemed to resonate with my own. Her full lips and dainty nose were perfectly framed by her jaggedly styled hair due and soft face. It was only when I took in her whole body did I let loose a slight gasp. She was wearing the same black and yellow ensemble that Andrew had placed into my hands mere moments ago. It dawned on me now that this was the mannequin replica of the Wasp or Janet Van Dyne that we had recently shipped back to the manufacturing company because we no longer needed it. “This little thing is not only my ticket to saving my bacon but also your ticket to getting into the con.” He said matter-of-factly as with a little effort he removed the plastic model from her case, leaving a distinct indent in the packaging. He walked off to the side for a moment and I took the time to inspect the plastic shell closely. It was nearly inch for inch the same size as me and her body type was nearly identical to mine. Her skin as was standard with all of the expertly detailed mannequins we used was made of extremely realistic silicone that emulated the human skin and warmth almost perfectly. I was mesmerized by the detail until Andrew returned with a full length mirror. “Originally we sent this one back to the factory so we could make room for a new display but the case is just perfect for her size and with the new Wasp comics coming out we sent back for her.” He said placing his newly acquired supplies down. “So this beauty is supposed to be out on display by the end of the day and then tomorrow after closing time I will tell our almighty manager Jarod that the Wasp will be the display at our booth.” He said patting her should affectionately. I raised an eyebrow at this. “Ok that makes sense but how does this help anyone but yourself? I am still down a ticket to the show and you still owe me.” He seemed to smile manically at my comment before grabbing the dress from my hands and holding it up near the mannequin. “You see the fine folks at Life-O-Plastic were kind enough to send an extra outfit for Ms. Van Dyne here since we said we would be keeping her this time. Meaning if someone who was, oh I don’t know, roughly the exact same size as her wanted to try it on and cosplay as her it might be okay.” He said with a lot of emphasis on the last part and my eyes locked with his. “Explain.” I said simply. I was very intrigued by where he was going with this. “We are going to dress you up as the Wasp and I am going to put you into the crate to be shipped with the other mannequins being delivered to the convention center, where soon after delivery you will be placed at our company’s booth and can then freely roam the con.” My mouth dropped at this crazy plan… but was I actually not going to question it? It sounded fool proof. I would just need to act like a mannequin for half a day and then I was home free. I nodded. “I swear I have no clue what goes on in that head of yours Andy but when we need a plan you are just crazy enough to find a wild solution.” I giggled as we laughed together before placing the mannequin on display and closing up for the night.The Next Day* We both arrived early to work the following morning in order to enact out crazy plot. I had woken up even earlier to get my hair in the proper jagged positioning and my makeup just right to match the mannequin. I met up with Andy in the storage area where he was busy placing the doll behind a dusty shelf so it wouldn’t be found. I gave a quick hello before grabbing the spare costume and walking to the little girl’s room. The outfit was a major pain to get on seeing as how it was mainly comprised of latex but after some struggling, especially with the long gloves I managed to fit into the snug costume. Now came the actual hard part. Upon exiting the room I stopped and stared at what Andrew was holding. In each of his hands were large plastic wings that had been freshly taken off of the original mannequin. It was hard enough to move as is in the tight costume but I managed to make my way over to him. “Hey there good looking you ready to earn your wings?” he asked holding up a single wing and a hot glue gun. I gulped and gave him a halfhearted glare as he turned me around and applied the warm and sticky substance. Soon enough I had two weights hanging off of my back and he came over with the last piece of my costume. The headphones. “You sure I look close enough to the actual thing?” I asked before waddling over to the mannequin he had pulled out from its hiding spot. As it turns out the company must have sent an extra set of wings too because standing in a rather sugestive pose was the original Wasp mannequin in her still complete form. He gave me a light push before giggling to himself. Immediately I felt something change as the headphones I had just been given gave a slight vibration and my body began moving on its own. At first it was just one leg moving slightly in front of the other but soon everything moved. My left leg was moved forward and I leaned slightly onto it as my right leg bent at an angle that took my heel off of the ground but left the front portion of that foot stable. The movement continued up my body as my hips bent forward slightly placing my butt out just a bit more than normal. My left arm bent itself at little more than a 45 degree angle and my fist closed as it came to rest slightly above my hip. Following suit my right arm moved back and bent itself in the same style but remained in the same position just with my hand open and finger sprawled out as if holding something. My shoulders jolted forward at an angle and that placed my ample amounts of showing cleavage just in front of my left hand. Finally my head tilted slightly to the left as I felt a wide, slightly sultry smile form on my face and my eyes squinted just slightly. At this point I was panicking on the inside but I couldn’t move or talk anymore. I looked to Andrew who just looked me up and down before giving me a thumbs up and walking away. I wanted desperately to call after him or cry out to someone else but I simply could not. Thankfully it wasn’t long before he returned with the full length mirror to which I inwardly sighed in relief as to what he was doing. Soon I was no longer scared or mad, instead I was just stunned at what I was seeing. Instead of a woman dressed as the Wasp, in the mirror stood two mannequins. I could barely tell myself apart from the original. It was amazing how lifelike the original looked but at the same time now I realized how artificial I looked in comparison to before I put the costume on. After some time Andrew tapped my headphones again and I could freely move my body from the neck up. He appeared before me with a bottle of something and a rag. “What the hell was that?” I asked in pure curiosity as he poured some strange liquid onto the rag and began rubbing it onto me. “It is a control system built into every model. There is a point on the costume that binds them into a variety of preset poses. I was wondering if it would work on you and it did. Apparently so well that you couldn’t even speak.” He said as he continued to what I assumed was shining my body. I nodded as if that was the only answer he needed. We just sat there in silence as he applied the polish to every part of my body, even the non-covered parts. It made them glisten like rubber and he smirked at me once more. “I am going to freeze you again and finish polishing you before I ship you out. I am going to leave your ability to speak on but your movement will be disabled again so you will only be able to make light noises.” He said firmly. I was about to object but he was quicker and activated the full paralysis mode again. I made a lightly annoyed grunt at him but he just smiled and rubbed the polish into my face. Once he pulled away I was just as shiny as my sister mannequin and it made me feel… proud? I really couldn’t tell you to be honest but so far I was having a good time with this adventure. I felt movement and to my shock Andrew had shoved me under one arm and was carrying me carefully away from the back room and to the loading/unloading area. “Ok I will see you this afternoon at the con got it? Good. Later “Janet”.” He added a bit mockingly before he set me down. “This the one?” a gruff voice said from behind me. ...

The company had been making personal robots for over twenty years, Susan had been working there for about two years ever since she graduated high school. Will had hired her and helped her learn the company so she had moved up and was now his administrative assistant who secretly loved him. Susan spent almost every night bound tightly to her bed with the large gag filling her mouth and the leather hood sealed tight around her head keeping her blind and deaf while she fantasized the large vibrating cock strapped deep in her pussy was his. When Will introduced his fiancé to her she was crushed and immediately knew she had to get rid of the woman developing a plan in her head. ...

Woman to Rubber/Bondage TF When working in a factory that specializes in molding large amounts of rubber into different objects you learn to be careful. In my time working here, which is about 2 years, nothing has happened but I knew how dangerous these automated machines could be. My name is Lynda Caves. I am 25 years old and would call myself a fairly average girl. I have shoulder length dark brown hair, a decently curved body with a matching plump butt and moderate c-cup breasts. This had been my dream job after graduating from college with my degree in mechanical engineering. I was being paid a small fortune to maintain and create new machines that the company used to better itself. It was perfect. I came to work on a Friday to run basic checkups on all of the machines. The first on my list was the ball maker. As the name suggests it makes those giant rubber balls that exercise joints use and are sold at supermarkets for kids. After I fixed the wiring on its faulty conveyor belt I moved on to the clothing machine. It was used to turn rubber into all sorts of kinky clothing for those interested in it to purchase from our online catalogue. It was running fine as usual so I kept on going with my normal schedule to a machine that produces… well the more personal toys that we made. Women or men could custom order sexual items from our store and we would personally see to it that they were perfect for them. I had actually used my employee discount on this option quite a few times. Other than a few misplaced dildos that missed the chute on the end heading to the packaging section of the factory everything was running just swell. The last stop on my afternoon maintenance route was a machine that made rubber sex dolls. This was actually the most complicated machine in the entire factory seeing as how the machine needed to steadily fill itself with the proper amount of what we called blanks, or latex doll bases that were shaped and some even looked like various women. We had shelves upon shelves back in the storage room of blanks that were systematically placed in different categories and columns based on their looks. Each afternoon a mechanical scanner would sort through each new deposit of blanks that we ordered and place them on racks to be cleaned and then used when the order came for one of those specifications. My boss Ms. Fredrick told me yesterday that she had to cancel the last order because the machine was jammed or something along those lines. So hiking up my jeans I entered the tunnel portion of the machine with my flashlight and began searching for the problem. I searched high and low and eventually came out at the end of the machine in the storage area. I didn’t come in here that often but when I did the sight still astounded me. All around me there were rows of large amounts of rubber items or pure rubber. Then off to the left directly next to the doll machine there was a large wall stacked at least 12 rows high of different looking blank dolls, divided right down the middle by if they had a face or not and then sub sectioned off after that. I turned my head slightly at a buzzing noise and immediately knew what the problem was. The robot, a female looking one that was dressed like a maid that we called Janice, looked to be short circuiting while sorting through the newest order of blanks. Laughing I walked over behind her and swiftly powered her off, giving me the opportunity to fix the wires that had become tangled after weeks of no maintenance. Sighing I switch her back on and she begins moving as usual. “Do you feel better now Janice?” I ask as I take a seat on one of the storage crates. This was one of the perks of this job. I had programmed Janice to be the best friend at work I wouldn’t get in a factory like this. She only had a basic AI but it was enough to have conversation and mess with her to make it worth the work and interaction. She turned to me after depositing a blank that resembled a black woman. “Why yes Lynda, thank you for fixing me again. It is a pain trying to work through malfunction.” She said finishing with a robotic laugh as she went back to work. ...

Woman to Maid/Robot TF Machines were always my favorite thing to work with as a kid and now that I was an adult I was working in a factory that designed robots! Sure I was just the mechanic and all of the machines were motorized but it was still awesome. My name is Lynda Caves and I am 25 years old and would call myself a fairly average girl. I have shoulder length dark brown hair, a decently curved body with a matching plump butt and moderate c-cup breasts. The main reason I was hired was because Ms. Fredrick, the manager, said I looked just right for the job. This was an important reason for my hiring as I was consulted on how to make the robots even more like a person, specifically female bits. Why? Because we make maid bots or robots designed to do house hold chores for wealthy families. Now onto the action! I knew most guys lusted after me and today was no different. One of my jobs as the mechanic was to go along with the groups of students that come here for tours to make sure the robotic guide doesn’t malfunction and I can answer questions she can’t. Today is worse than normal because the school I am currently on tour with has a large amount of teenagers that are trying to ogle my ass without me noticing, which I do easily. Why me? Soon we approach the assembling portion of the factory where the robots are given shape and assembled and this is where I finally snapped. I had been grabbed inappropriately before but never by a student of all things! As soon as I felt the successful grope I smacked the offender in the face before storming off to an employee only area of the factory. “Seriously, who does that dumb punk think he is. He’s probably going to be feeling the bot I sent to replace me all over her body and she will kick him out. God I hate people…” I fume stomping back and forth behind a large piece of machinery. I was so busy ranting to no one in particular that I did not notice the light behind me flashing red and one of the worker Maids came and grabbed me. “Wha-?” I try and get out before I am flung over the railing of one of the machines by the maid and plummet downward. I land with a heavy thunk at the end of the fall. “Ow… what was that for…” I wonder as the belt beneath me kicks to life and whirs me forward into a large and bright chamber and I see where I am. “Shit!” I curse and start looking for a good way off of the active belt because both in front of me and behind me are blank maid models who are here to be processed and dressed before shipping out to their assignments or stores. I am in a panic trying to find a way to get off of the belt but I am too far off of the ground to jump and climbing has never been my strong suit. I was so distracted by trying to escape that I didn’t notice the scanner hover over me and a pair of mechanical arms reach out for me. Both limbs grasp my arms tightly as I notice and begin to thrash. “Let go of me you stupid machine! I work here!” The machine doesn’t register my resistance as more arms appear and strip me of all of my clothing. As soon as my clothes were gone I was doused in a special fluid that gets rid of all dirt and grime from the synthetic skin of all of the standard robots. After the substance was applied to my skin all of the hair and other things that were anywhere on my body below my neck slid off of my body and were flushed down a drain. “Stop it. I am human!” I yell trying to escape my restraints as I approach the next station. At the next stop a pair of large sponge-like things popped out of the floor and started spinning. Each of them made contact with my sides and it felt GOOD. “Mmmmm~ I moan as the brushes massage some wet and thick fluid all over my body. I guess while I was distracted in my moaning an arm grabbed my hair and pulled it back so that the brushes could attack my face. By the time I realized what the substance was it was far too late and the machine started on my face and back. I tried to fight back now that I was not distracted but the liquid had already started merging into my skin and hardening. The substance in question was a cheap to make but very powerful adhesive that makes a strong protective shell over the skin of the robots before they are provided an outfit and are shipped. Soon enough the buffers went away and I was left there standing in a pose with one leg slightly bent and a super serious face. With two large cracks I was barely able to open my eyes but my mouth was sealed shut as I was moved to the next section. “Mmph mmph!’ I yelled muffled into my sealed and shiny lips as I was placed in the center of the room and another scanner dropped down to do its job. After the bright light faded a pair of hands with some spray cans were already upon me, reposing my body into a much sexier but straight standing pose and then bringing in clothes. The first thing to come was the standard options. A pair of white and lacy panties and a matching bra. Black and very sexy stockings and a black corset. All of these things were placed upon my perfect and shiny body before I was lifted up and placed into a pair of 6 inch black heels and a simple black top was lowered onto me. The arm holding my hair let it fall freely to my mid-back and I was lifted up again. I was sobbing inside of my hardened prison as I was carried to what I assume would be the shipping and packing area but instead the arms took me away from the other “bots” and into a dark room. I felt myself lowering down and heard a click. “MMPH!” I screamed as the hardened seal over my asshole was broken and a cold metal pole slid its way deep inside of me and locked into place. Another large click sounded and the air around me changed a bit. It wasn’t much longer after that when the lights turned on and a group of blurry figures to my unadjusted eyes walked in. “As you can see Tour Group B, this is our showroom. A specimen from each model is here and locked in perpetual stasis. Meaning that the skin and functions of the bot are preserved until they are no longer needed and will be sold to other museums.” An older tour-bot said as she led the same group that she replaced me in leading. The group was released to look around and of course the first thing the dick who touched me did was approach my “display”. He smiled and walked all around, taking an extremely long time behind me to examine the ass he had only barely grazed earlier. “This is the JL-400. Our newest model of self-sufficient maids. They are not even released to the public beyond test models, this unit was just created and will remain here for a few weeks before her owner, a rich businessman’s son in Tokyo, will be coming to collect her for his collection.” The bot said before the lights began shutting off again. “Our time is up. Please see yourself out and come again!” she said before shutting down right there. All of the people slowly filed out, with the creepy guy smiling at me once more before following suit. Once the last person had left the showroom the door slammed shut and the remaining lights, including the ones in my own and the other display cases, dimmed to a very low setting and I wanted to cry. ‘I don’t want to be a maid…’ I sob silently as my frame stays perfectly still.

Woman to Maid-bot TF My name is Mari Chambers, a 21 year old college grad who is in bad need of some cash. I am 5’5 and my body is fairly impressive, with C-Cup breasts, nice curves and a plump butt I have been complemented quite a bit. I had been searching online for weeks trying to find a job that paid well, but the only openings I found were in fast food or retail. That is until today. When I got up this morning I once again began my search, this time however I was intrigued by one offer. A business man in San Francisco was looking to pay someone for the use of their android as long as they could act as a maid for the family. As soon as I saw the android part I deflated but I kept reading anyways. When I saw the pay for the job my jaw dropped and I knew I had to have the position, but I didn’t have an android nor could I afford to buy even the older models. How was I going to swing this? I began researching the models of androids and how they worked, the prices were way outside my price range but I did discover something that was a little crazy. During my research I stumbled into a forum that featured many stories of women, like myself, being turned into robots or androids. I spent the entire rest of that day reading these stories and piecing together an idea that should have been considered impossible. The more I read the more I began placing myself into these scenarios and then the end result would be me making bank working for that business man in San Fran. I didn’t sleep at all the next day as I came to my conclusion and began enacting my plan. First I picked up my phone and dialed the number on the ad. It rang a few times before a click and a deep masculine voice answered. “Hello, George Fournier speaking.” He said. He was the owner of a famous factory that made all different kind of steel products that were shipped all over the world. He was a multi-millionaire and I was looking forward to this. “Hello Mr. Fournier my name is Mari Chambers and I am calling about the android rental job.” I said as calm but chipper as possible. “OH! That is great Mari! Did you fill out all of the forms already? I would love to get his deal done ASAP!” the business guru sounded very happy now and it was contagious as I smiled widely in response. “I did indeed sir. All I need is for you to send the shipping information and I can complete the deal” I said fingering my mouse over the send button with all of the documents in an email. “Great! I will read over your information and then send you the form for shipping the bot, everything else will be taken care of! Thanks again!” he said before hanging up the phone. I kept grinning as I hit the send button and then leaned back, waiting for the form that I needed to fill out for shipping the just created android, myself, from Oregon to California. I heard the jingle and opened up the email to view the form. I was a little surprised to see the form was from the leading manufacturer of androids in the United States. I clicked the link and it brought me to a page that had around 20 boxes that needed to be filled out. The first few were just basic information like address and the like but I had to start researching the later information. The 8th question was about the type of android being sent in and I already prepared the answer, although it was embarrassing referring to myself in the way I was having to. I filled out the card saying that I was a newer model sex bot that was reprogrammed to not only do things in that category but also help with all household needs. I filled out the remaining basic information until I got to the last few boxes. They were in order asking if I wanted the bot to be reprogrammed, dressed, cleaned or redesigned. The dressed and cleaned options were greyed out with checks in the saying off to the side that it was mandatory for bots going out to other jobs so I just huffed and left the other two blank. The final box was what time I wanted my bot to be picked up, I promptly selected midnight tonight so no one would be asking questions. After I filled it out the form was submitted and it told me what to do in order to have a proper pick up. It was very direct, please place designated android outside of the address free from any clothing or accessories and in sleep mode. Our professional delivery trucks will come by and take it to the nearest factory to be prepared. All of this sounded scary and yet I was getting excited the more I thought about it, so I set about cleaning my home and throwing away all of my perishable items before watching movies into the late evening. As 12 approaches I grinned madly as I stripped myself and walked outside, I had a key outside of my home and I had let my family and friends know I was going out of town for who knows how long to sight see for a while with no contact available. It was 11:45 as I stood rigid on my front porch waiting for a truck to come by and pick up this lonely android. At what I assumed was a little past twelve a large truck backed into my drive way and slide open the back door allowing me to see a bigger man step out. I hastily shut my eyes and activated “sleep” mode. ...

Working in the office as the accounts/administrator, but I also specialise in the special order dolls and getting their clothes online or via fetish wear suppliers, I then dress them and prepare them in a separate area of the factory away from the main floor where the general dolls are made. The special orders are made by one of our master craftsmen and then placed in the side room ready for me to assemble the order that the customer has requested. ...

Should really learn my lesson when it comes to hanging out with Nancy. I love her to death but she causes me to get into all kinds of situations. So when I decided to meet her at this old adult toy factory I figured “What could go wrong”. That was mistake number one. As usual when I hang out with Nancy we were both naked and wandering the upper levels of the factory. Nancy decided to go towards the back and I wanted to look around the factory portion seeing as how I love machines so much. When I reached the working area I was a bit shocked to see suck lifelike woman hanging from chains or laying on different belts scattered around the room. I went around and inspected each area and was giddy with it until I heard the doors on the far side of the large room open and the lights turn on. My heart nearly stopped when I heard a deep voice yell “Who is in here?” I panicked a tad and started looking for an escape route but to my dismay the only exit towards the upstairs area was near the man who was starting to search the room. With no escape option I began quickly scanning for the best hiding spots and sighed in relief and embarrassment when I realized what I could do to get out of this. I sprinted over to a group of semi-finished dolls that were laying in different positions and laid down next to them. I adopted the slightly parted legs and O shaped mouth in order to blend in and awaited the man. It wasn’t long until a rather large man with a uniform for the company walked over and started searching around my area. I remained still with shallow breathes as he glanced at myself and the doll piles and sighed in relief when he went past us to check the last part of the factory floor. I was about to make a break for the exit when the man came back around the corner and approached me. “Man Kyle you always have to leave such a mess for us on the night shift. These damn dolls should have been prepped and ready to get finished when I started the machines tonight.” He said frustrated and scooping up one of the dolls, a black haired and tan skinned beauty, and walked over to the nearest belt. He reached up and placed the doll spread eagle on the conveyor and then attached some type of holder to each limb before coming back over. A pit in my stomach started to form and just got bigger with each of the dolls from my hiding pile that were placed onto the belt until it was just me and another red head and big breasted doll were all that remained. He came back and looked over us appraisingly. “Man why would they make two of the same doll?” he questioned out loud before he scooped up my apparent twin and followed suit in the same process. I was half tempted to run right there but I was frozen in fear of being both discovered in this situation and what this man would do to me. Slowly he came back and grabbed me in one fluid motion. Just like all of the dolls before me I was placed onto the cold metal belt and then fastened in for the ride ahead. With one final look the man nodded and then hit a series of commands on the console nearest to us before leaving. ...

Part 1: The Special Order Sylvia was excited for the first time in almost six months. She has been unemployed for that whole time, but it really wasn’t her fault. She was working as a secretary for a stock broker for two years, and she loved doing it, but the man took early retirement and she was transferred to a senior vice president for the company. He was married and in his mid-fifties, and a complete pig. From the first day she started, he was making advances toward her. She had to keep telling him no in a very polite manner, but he persisted nonetheless. As the days went by, he began making lewder and more crude comments, going so far as to offering her a raise for a blowjob on a regular basis. Besides the fact that she believes blowjobs are degrading to women and refuses to do them for any of the boyfriends she’s had in the past, there’s no way she was going to be treated as a whore. After three weeks of putting up with his advances, she quit and got a lawyer the next day. It’s the $15 million dollar lawsuit that is pending against the pig is what’s preventing her from getting another job. This leads her to today. She had placed her resume all over the internet, on every job searching website, and any place else that would take it. Finally, she received a phone call yesterday afternoon from an Abigail Gillen, owner of the Exclusive Products Company, a factory that made custom dolls and mannequins. Ms. Gillen asked her if she would like to come in for an interview as a customer service representative and personal assistant. Sylvia didn’t hesitate and jumped at the offer! She was told to be at the offices the next morning at 9 AM, and not to bring any cell phones or recording equipment. The explanation was that all of Exclusive Products items and manufacturing processes were proprietary, and there would be no interview if she even had one of them with her. The directions to the offices weren’t that hard to follow. It was a simple but long bus ride to the end of the line at an industrial complex, then a 20 minute walk to the correct building. She didn’t mind the travel, or the walk, because it was such a beautiful day. Besides, the exercise will be her reason not to go to the gym tomorrow. She did miscalculate the travel time however and still arrived almost 30 minutes early. The building looked about 30 years old, and had what looked like four floors. There were no windows anywhere to be seen with the exception of the glass front double doors, and even those were heavily tinted. She strained her eyes trying to look through the tint, but she couldn‘t make out anything inside. ‘Exclusive Products Co.’ was written in white block letters on the left door. The parking lot was rather small, with about 15 spaces available plus one that was reserved for the owner. A sign to the right of the doors read ‘Deliveries & Pickups’ with an arrow pointing around the right side of the building. She didn’t have to wait long though. About 10 minutes later, an older model Mercedes in near sale floor condition rolled up and parked in the ‘Reserved For Ms. Gillen’ spot by the door where she was standing. The engine stopped, and out climbed an attractive slender woman who looked in her mid-forties. She stood around five foot eight inches, had shapely hips, thin waist, and about a 34DD breast size. She was wearing a blue business suit, white blouse, and shoes with low heels. Her light brown hair was wrapped up in a bun on the top of her head. She reached into the back seat and pulled out a briefcase. She hit the fob alarm for her car then turned to Sylvia. Sylvia was thinking that her own looks might intimidate this older woman, for she was five foot six inches tall, long natural blonde hair, 38DD breast size, a soft but athletic build, flawless skin, and was wearing 4 inch heels to accentuate her build, but that made her appear taller. She really needed this job, and she decided to be as humble as possible, as well as some very minor self degrading for effect. She also quickly turned away and tried to button her own blouse all the way up to cover her cleavage. “Hello!,” Ms. Gillen said warmly as Sylvia turned back around to face her. She extended her hand in friendship and asked, “I’m guessing you’re Sylvia Farrel, am I correct?” “Um, yes, hi!,” Sylvia meekly replied, “I hope you don’t mind that I’m early do you? I like to be at all of my appointments a little early.” She reached out and took the other woman’s hand and weakly shook it. It gave the appearance that she was nervous, although she wasn’t in the least. Another ‘humble’ tactic. “No, not at all. I don’t see another car here. Did you get a ride?,” Ms. Gillen asked, as she simultaneously looked around the parking lot while she walked towards the front doors with the key extended. Sylvia turned to follow her and replied, “I took the bus. I had to sell my car a month ago to pay the rent on my apartment, and I didn’t have enough time to set up a ride for today.” “I’m sorry to hear that, dear,” Ms. Gillen said as she unlocked the right door. “Hopefully we can remedy that in short order.” She opened the door only wide enough for herself to squeeze through. “Would you mind waiting out here for a minute, Ms. Farrel, while I turn off the alarm?” “Sure. Like I said, I’m the one who’s here early.” Ms. Gillen smiled then slipped pass the door, quickly closed and locked it behind herself. It took five minutes for her to return and let Sylvia in. “My apologies, Ms. Farrel” Ms. Gillen said as she let Sylvia in. “The sensor on the factory floor keeps going bonkers, and it makes it difficult to disarm the alarm. The alarm company is supposed to be here on Monday to fix it.” “That’s okay, and please call me Sylvie.” Another tactic. Allowing a supervisor to call you by your childhood nickname gives them a false sense of authority. “All right, Sylvie it is! Please, call me Abigail,” Ms. Gillen replied. She held the glass door open wide so Sylvia could enter. She did a quick-step past her soon to be boss before she could change her mind. Beyond the door was a small white painted waiting room with four chairs and a coffee table. The carpet was dark black and was wall to wall. On the opposite side of the room was another door made of metal with a heavy deadbolt lock on it. Next to that door was a buzzer on the wall with a sign reading ‘Ring For Assistance.’ There was a clipboard with some papers attached to it and a pen sitting on the coffee table. “Now, Sylvie,” Abigail said as she locked the front door and walked around Sylvia, “I’m going to have you sign these confidentiality papers and liability forms. This is both a warehouse and a factory, so I need temporary medical coverage in case anything should happen to you here today during the interview. Also, there’s the agreement that you will not divulge anything you see here today to any outside party. Strictly legal documents to protect my company. Also, I’ll need you to empty out your purse and all of your pockets onto the table.” “Why?” “To see if you have any cell phones or cameras on you.” “Oh, yeah, right. You did say that.” Sylvia proceeded to empty her purse. None of her clothes had any pockets. She picked up the clip board and filled them all out as Abigail searched her belongings. She handed over the clipboard with the completed forms and started to refill her purse. “One moment, please,” Abigail said in an authoritative tone. “I need to frisk you.” “Excuse me?” Sylvia looked at her with surprise. “Part of the confidentiality agreement you just signed. I need to check to see if you have any hidden cameras or microphones on you. Please lift your arms out parallel and spread your legs.” With a puzzled look on her face, Sylvia slowly did what she was told. She understood what the older woman meant, but why didn’t she just use a metal detector? It could only mean one of two things: Either their current metal detector is not working or this lady is a lesbian. Either way, she needed a job, any job, no matter how humiliating the interview is, and that this isn’t done on a regular basis. Abigail swiftly touched every inch of Sylvia’s body through her clothes, including her groin, butt crack and breasts. She used a gentle but firm hand, and didn’t seem to enjoy doing it at all. While down around her ankles, she asked Sylvia to step out of her shoes so she could inspect them as well. She didn’t stop at any particular body part for too long, and was complete in under a minute. “Thank you, Sylvie,” Abigail said as she stood back up. She took her keys out of her pocket and headed towards the metal door across the room. “Once you get your things together, we’ll go to my office.” Sylvia eagerly scooped all of her things back into her purse without any order. She headed over to where Abigail was, and, as she unlocked the door and held it open, the young blonde walked in with a spring in her step and smile on her face. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind both of them. ********* The two women walked down a short but wide hallway that had two single doors on the left side and one set of plastic swinging doors at the other end. The hallway was also white with black carpet. A light humming noise could be heard coming from the fluorescent lights. Abigail led Sylvia to the first door on the left. “In here, please,” she asked as she opened the door to let Sylvia in. The room was roughly 12 feet wide and 15 feet long. There was a desk with a computer monitor on the far wall. A large backed chair sat behind it and two upholstered chairs in front of it. The wall across from the door had a row of filing cabinets. In the middle of the room was a small wooden table with four matching chairs. A couple of binders were on the table, all labeled ‘Product Line’ with various years on them. All around the rooms were plastic floor plants, and on the walls hung framed prints of kittens. “Have a seat,” Abigail motioned to one of the upholstered chairs. Sylvia took to the chair in rapid fashion, trying to exude eagerness. She sat upright with her knees together and her purse on her lap across her legs, trying to hide her breasts and hips. She tried to keep a smile on her face that wasn’t over the top but not looking forced. Abigail went around the desk and sat down. She opened up a folder and started skimming the papers inside. Peeking up, Sylvia noticed that it was a copy of her resume that she uploaded on one of the job sites. Abigail picked up a pen and jotted down some notes on the various pages as she went along. After a few minutes, she looked up at Sylvia. “Why did you leave your last job?” “Oh, boy,” Sylvia replied as the smile disappeared from her face. “I’m going to tell you the truth. My previous employer kept making unwanted sexual advances at me. He wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer.” “Oh, My!” “When he demanded oral sex from me, I left and hired a lawyer.” “Really?!?” “Yes. And a good thing too. The lawyer found another secretary that he did the same thing to, and if we can get her to testify, we’ll have an open and shut case. The thing is, until the lawsuit is settled, I have no income to live on.” “I’m sorry to hear that, Sylvie,” Abigail said with a sigh as she slumped back in her chair with disgust. “Between you and me, I hope you nail his tush to the wall.” She flashed the younger woman a devilish smile. Sylvia gave a light chuckle “I will!” “Well, your resume looks great. You have everything I’m looking for as a personal assistant. You have a pleasantly lilting voice, so that will be an advantage when talking with clients on the phone.” Abigail took a small notepad from the top drawer of her desk and pulled off a sheet of paper. She wrote something down on it, folded it in half, and slid it over to Sylvia across the desk. “Here’s what I can offer you in the form of a salary,” She said, but she didn’t remove her hand from the slip of paper. “However, before you look at this, I have to let you know something. Here at Exclusive Products, our main source of income is the manufacturing and selling of sexual devices. More specifically, sex dolls. We import them from overseas as well as having our own factory. The ones we make here are considered some of the best in the world, and they fetch incredibly high prices. Our methods in making them are a well guarded secret. We also make mannequins, but there are more horny perverts in the world than there are stores. I have to ask you right now: Would selling such items make you uncomfortable?” Sylvia sat there with a blank look on her face. Could she really sell sex toys? She wouldn’t even be here if she was able handle one old perverted pig, so how would she manage with them on a daily basis? Then she thought for a moment. Her body could work to her advantage this way. She could wear the most revealing business attire she could find. The perverts would be so turned on by just looking at her, they’ll have to buy a doll just to get their rocks off! An extremely wide grin ran across her face. “Yes, I think I can do that.” “Good!” Abigail let go of the paper and Sylvia opened it. The number written down there shocked her. Her eyes got as big as saucers and her mouth hung agape. “Seventy Five Thousand Dollars?!?,” she exclaimed. “Just to help you sell sex toys?!?” “Yes,” Abigail replied as she sat back down in her chair. “Plus a percentage commission when you help close a sale. Interested?” “When Can I Start?!?” “Tomorrow, but first I’ll give you a tour of our operation. Do you have time for that today?” Sylvia jumped out of the chair like she was sitting on a spring. She was smiling so hard that her cheeks turned red and started hurting a little. “I would be delighted! The more I learn today, the easier the transition is tomorrow!” “That’s the spirit!,” Abigail replied with a grin of her own as she stood up. She reached out her hand again as she walked around the desk to Sylvia, who was literally bouncing with excitement. They shook hands again, but this time Sylvia lost her composure and shook Abigail’s hand vigorously. She winced a little as her wrist was wrenched in more ways than it was supposed to, and, upon noticing the discomfort, Sylvia let go abruptly. “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!,” She quickly said in succession, “Please excuse my excitement! Oh, wow! This is triple my last job paid me! I feel a little light headed!” “That’s understandable, dear,” Abigail said as she shook the pain from her wrist. “You jumped up a little too fast. Breathe a little bit and compose yourself. I’ll take you to the break room. I keep the fridge stocked with assorted flavored waters for the employees.” Sylvia came to her senses in short order and, with a little help with balance from Abigail, walked out of her office. They turned left and went to the next door over. Inside was a well lit room with three round tables, about two dozen chairs, a table with two microwaves, and an industrial size refrigerator. “Here we go,” Abigail said as she helped Sylvia to a chair. “By the way, I can’t help noticing your blouse. It’s beautiful. ‘Vera Wang‘?” “Versace. Real silk. I made my last boyfriend get it for me two years ago. I think he’s still paying for it.” Abigail nodded, smiled, then walked over to the fridge. She opened both doors wide so all of the contents were displayed. There were a few brown bags, clear containers of liquid, and thermal lunch boxes on the left side and the right side was stocked with sealed 20 ounce plastic bottles of flavored water. “What flavor would you like?” “ Cherry, if you don’t mind.” Abigail pulled out a cherry, closed up the fridge, then walked it over to Sylvia. She made short order of the bottle’s seal and gulped down one quarter of it’s contents. She lowered the bottle from her lips with a gasp of air. “Mmmm,’ She said, “This stuff is good. If I can have this every day, I’ll consider it a major perk!” She lifted the bottle up again and took another swig. “Now, if you’re ready, we can star the tour. You can bring your drink if you want. The warehouse can get hot during the day.” “I’m ready when you are!,” Sylvia replied without hesitating. She stood up and walked over to Abigail. Both women then walked out of the break room, turned left, and went through the plastic double doors. ********** ...

story continues from part one Part 2: Care and Maintenance It’s only 10:30 in the morning and Abigail Gillen, owner and operator of “Exclusive Products Company”, has had an extremely profitable day. She had just sold off a grade 4 sex dolly that she literally made earlier that day for five hundred thousand dollars. The owner didn’t want the dolly’s voice modulator programmed or anything; he started testing it right there on the warehouse floor. The man was so excited to have the doll made out of the greedy little whore who was suing him, and the company he works for, for $15 million dollars just because he was complimenting her on her appearance, that he couldn’t wait to take it home. As he was having his dolly perform oral sex, Abigail was in her office attending some paperwork. ...

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory) Part 2: Care and Maintenance It’s only 10:30 in the morning and Abigail Gillen, owner and operator of “Exclusive Products Company”, has had an extremely profitable day. She had just sold off a grade 4 sex dolly that she literally made earlier that day for five hundred thousand dollars. The owner didn’t want the dolly’s voice modulator programmed or anything; he started testing it right there on the warehouse floor. The man was so excited to have the doll made out of the greedy little whore who was suing him, and the company he works for, for $15 million dollars just because he was complimenting her on her appearance, that he couldn’t wait to take it home. As he was having his dolly perform oral sex, Abigail was in her office attending some paperwork. The man gave her a briefcase full of money, and she quickly but diligently counted it and made sure all of the bills were real. Upon finding everything satisfactory, she closed the briefcase and took it over to the rows of filing cabinets on the other side of her office. She placed a key in the lock at the top of the middle file cabinet, turned it, then pulled on the second drawer down. The whole cabinet slid away from the wall on metal runners, far enough to gain access to the floor safe underneath it. She opened the safe and placed the briefcase inside, closed it, then slid the filing cabinet back into place. The key was removed and then she side-stepped to the next cabinet over on the right. She opened up the top drawer of this cabinet and pulled out a sealed manila envelope with the words “Care & Maintenance of Deluxe Dolls.” The packet was only about ¼ inch thick. She carried it back to her desk and started up her desktop computer. She went over to the break room, the next room over, and poured herself a cup of coffee while her computer warmed up. She returned, sat down, entered her password, then started to print a combination invoice and receipt for the man’s purchase. The printer was in the bottom drawer of her desk. It printed up in a standard, easy to read format, and she gathered it and the envelope together then started back for the warehouse floor. This whole time in her office took a little over 20 minutes. As soon as she opened the doors to the warehouse she was hearing the man grunting loudly. He was over by the packaging tables with his dolly still on the floor, its head pinned against the edge of the table as he was thrusting his penis violently inside its oral cavity. ‘Sylvia was right,’ Abigail thought to herself, ‘This man is a pig.’ She walked towards the man, making several “Ahem” noises as she got closer, but he was not acknowledging her. He was on a mission, obviously attempting to reach his goal. She was able to see that the man had both hands on the dolly’s head for balance, and heard the proper sucking sounds coming from the oral cavity. She was relieved with this because the man showed up too early and she didn’t have enough time to finish the procedure with the doll. The doll didn’t have any moisture added to it before its first use, only the moisture that was still there from the completion of the transformation process. After she took three more steps closer she realized why it didn’t matter. The man had a small penis, probably only five inches long erect. She had to stifle a giggle. Suddenly, the man gave out a loud groan and stiffened up his spine. He unloaded his orgasm into his dolly’s mouth, and kept his penis inside until every last drop was sucked out. Gasping, and with a wide grin, the fifty-ish year old man finally took a step back and zipped up his pants. “I take it that you’re satisfied with your purchase?” Abigail asked, still trying not to giggle. “All I can say is ’Wow’,” the man replied, still trying to catch his breath. “If its other holes are as good as that was, I may be dead soon, but, by God, what a way to go!” “Please, kill me,” The doll whispered loudly in a recorded sounding voice, “Don’t make me live like this…” The man crouched down to look into his doll’s eyes. He put his left hand behind the doll’s neck and pulled it forward, away from the table, and closer to his own face. With his other hand, he started kneading one of the doll’s breasts while fingering the nipple. The doll let a whispering, recorded sounding sexual moan. “Why?” he asked as he looked into its eyes, “You seem to like it. You’re moaning like a hooker in heat. I’m going to enjoy sticking my cock in you any time I want, any way I want, and I’ll savor every second of it. Because of you, my wife left me and is talking divorce. She and my stepdaughter are planning on taking everything I own because of your silly lawsuit. Now, since you’re no longer around, the lawsuit will go away and she’ll come to her senses and stop this divorce talk. I’ll have her back, and I’ll have you any time I want you.” “Oh, God, please…,” the doll begged. If it had some water inside it, it would be crying. “There are still a few things we have to go over,” Abigail said over the man’s shoulder. “And we must go over them quickly before my employees start showing up for their shifts.” “Sure,” the man replied as he stood back up. He turned to face Abigail. “What else do I need to know?” “First off, here’s your receipt for the doll,” Abigail said as she handed over the piece of paper and the envelope. “Also, here’s a packet for the care and maintenance of your new dolly. Please read everything inside the envelope and keep them with your important documents. If and when you pass your dolly on, via as a gift or in your will, the new owner will need to know these things as well.” “Like what?” “Well, the dolly’s exterior is made of latex. Some people have allergic reactions to physical contact with latex, and anyone who uses it should be aware of this. “Second, at least twice a week the owner must pour two cups of tap water with a tablespoon of vegetable oil down the dolly’s throat. This is used as fuel for the dolly as well as keeping its orifices moist and lubricated during use. It can also cry, especially when it’s hurt, if you wish to punish it, but any hits will not leave any marks. Keep it away from sharp objects, but the latex can be repaired, however it will leave a scar. The minerals added to the tap water helps with the upkeep of the internal machines, like the vibrations and sucking motions. Also, the oil helps keep the latex from drying out. We suggest using the routine of every Monday and Friday, and making a habit of it. Once a month you should crush up a multivitamin in with the water. Preferably, something heavy in zinc and iron. “Third, prolonged exposure to the sun or extreme cold can irreversibly damage the latex. Do not take it outside if the temperature goes below 45 degrees Fahrenheit unless it is packed inside an insulated carrying case. It will float in a pool, but the use of sunscreen or water resistant oil is recommended first. Chlorine can dry out the exterior faster than UV rays. “Third, this dolly, if taken care of properly, can survive for an estimate of 20 thousand years. It will not age. Since no one will live that long, you MUST make preparations for when you’re gone. This is why I strongly suggest that you select a programming routine for its voice modulator. You don’t want it saying the wrong thing to the wrong person, do we?” “I understand,” the man said as he looked at his receipt. He then turned towards his doll again. “Hear that? I made you almost immortal. You’re going to be someone’s fucktoy for the next few thousand years. You should be thanking me.” The dolly replied with muffled whimpering noises. “I want her to keep speaking her own mind. It excites me more than you know. I’ll look into making some provisions on what to do with it after I’m gone, but, for now, I’m gonna have a lot of fun. If there isn’t anything else, I’ll get out of your hair.” “No, that covers about everything,” Abigail said, as she headed over towards the docking bay door. The man lifted his dolly up by its waist and threw it over his shoulder, then started to follow her. The dolly was sobbing uncontrollably as he walked, not able to move or change the blank expression on its face. “If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to call.” “Thank you, Ms. Gillen. A pleasure doing business with you. You do excellent work. If things don’t work out with my wife, I may have two new candidates for your services. Would you mind if I recommend you to a few of my friends?” Abigail hit the button that raised the dock door. “We prefer that you give us the names of your friends so we can do our own background checks before we say yes or no to potential clients. You never know what some people have hidden in their closets. When Mr. Ogontz told you about us, we had already investigated you for five weeks before giving him the okay to let him talk to you. What we do here isn’t exactly legal, so we have to be careful.” “Oh, yeah, I can see that,” the man replied as he started through the docking bay and towards his car. “I’ll call you later on with my friends’ names, probably next week, depending on how much vitamin E I can handle.” He stopped at the back of his car, placed his dolly on the ground, turned back and waved goodbye to Abigail, then opened his trunk. He then picked up his dolly and proceeded to put it inside. “Please,! Oh, God! No! Stop!” The trunk closed, and that was the end of Sylvia Farrell ************ ...

story continued from part one The Ball Part 2 Since her lengthy stay in the ball Jen waited a week before the draw to use it again became too strong and when she returned home she stripped off her clothes inserting her vibrator and gag before taking her hand cuffs and sliding into the ball. She had set it on top of the stand Mark had made and was able to slip into it without knocking it over. Settling into the bottom of the ball, closing and latching the top before closing the cuffs behind her back then leaning back took a deep breath before turning on the vibrator. She sat moaning enjoying the vibrations and the feelings from her restrictions of the cuffs and the ball. She began to roll over and in the process she rolled the ball off its stand and felt it rolling. She squealed as it rolled roughly into a wall before bouncing off sending her head over heels into another before stopping leaving her partially upside down. ...

Woman to Sexdoll TF It was twelve p.m. when Kalyn Parks arrived at the Shady Tree Doll Factory. Kalyn was a 5’2 busty brunette with a figure that any girl would kill for and although she was a shy person she did love her body. That was part of the reason she called for a meeting with the head of the factory Brian Cruise. She had a plan that only he could help with. So as she entered the factory and was lead to the main office by the secretary. “Hello there Miss Parks I presume? Welcome to the Shady Tree Doll Factory I am Brian Cruise so please tell me what it is that you need my help with” Mr. Cruise says while greeting Kalyn. “Hello there Mr. Cruise um well I suppose my request is … strange and I understand if you don’t want to help me but I have to ask” the brunette says very timidly. “Please Kalyn call me Brian and I am no stranger to the weird. For god’s sake I work in a doll factory, my life is the definition of weird so please ask away.” He said well naturedly while leaned against the desk in the middle of the room. “Um … well … my boyfriend and I have been together for a year now and I really like him so I want to make this one special so I was going to make myself a doll for him…” she said quickly but still clear enough for Brian to understand and nod slowly. “So just to clarify, you want me to help you become a doll for your boyfriend?” he asked to which he received a brief nod from the now beat red girl. “How exactly shall we do this?” he inquired while standing up to give her his full attention. ...

Woman to Sexdoll Janice decided to give her husband a very special birthday present this year, she’d given him many gifts over the past few years they had been married and even given herself to him dressed in eye popping lingerie. But this year she wanted something extra special and after looking at some of his browsing history Janice knew the perfect gift – a full size realistic sex doll. ...

Woman to Lovedoll TF Pulling into the company’s large parking lot was easy, and finding a spot was just as easy. It was later in the day, so some of the shift workers had already gone home. The young lady stepped out of the one-year old lease vehicle. She is wearing leggings, an oversized shirt, and flats. Tucking an empty bag under her arm and holding her keys in her hand, she walks into the building. The company building is multi-storied, shaped like a box, and is attached to a small industrial factory complex. From the parking lot, the building looks empty and the factory unused. She walks confidently inside the front door, nodding to the receptionist, then continues onto the second floor offices. Saul Perkins, the production manager for the factory, steps out of his third floor office to go down to the second floor. Rubbing his head, he thinks to himself, why does Emma want to see me today? It seems odd, even more so with Ryan being out of town on company business. Walking into one of the production prep rooms, he sees her walking in from the other side. “Saul,” she says with a smile, “Thanks for meeting me today!” He returns the smile with a quick hug, “No problem, but I must admit,” taking an extra step back, “I have no idea why you wanted to meet.” Emma nods her head and sets her stuff down, “Well, as you know, I was diagnosed with breast cancer last year. With the new advances in medicine, the pill that I take every day has put it into remission.” Saul smiles warmly, “Wow, that is great news! No wonder Ryan has been so happy lately.” Emma chuckles, “Well, there is that, but there is also the side effects.” Slipping her shirt off, Saul tries to hide his eyes until he sees what she was hiding. “Woah, have they always been that big?” Emma snorts, “Uh, no, my girls were never this big, but if that is what it takes to be cancer free, then I’m for it.” Not putting her shirt back on, Saul asks, “So, you are looking for…” fearful about what she might say. “Right,” she continues, “The other side effect is an incurable desire for sex. Ryan has been enjoying both side effects daily, and quite frankly, so have I.” Blushing slightly from the memories, “This past year has been a wonderful time for us.” Saul smiles again, but more out of confusion, still unsure of what she wants. “So,” she adds, “Ryan has been traveling more the past couple of months, being gone 3-4 days a week. And normally, that would not be a bad thing, but now,” pointing down at her chest, “I really need some release, but I want to be faithful to him.” Saul, still confused, asks, “And you think I can help?” Emma nods, “Well, I need a special favor. I know this sounds crazy, but could you put me in a regular rotation with your love doll rentals?” Now Saul had been bracing himself for what she was about to say, but when she finished talking, he could not think of a reply. All he could say was, “What?” Pressing on, Emma says, “Look, I know you and Ryan help manage one of the biggest love doll companies in the country. With the outlawing of prostitution, there has been a large increase in this market, both purchases and rentals.” Saul could not argue with that. Without the government’s over reaction, he would be out of business. “And you think you can pass for one, so you can get your fix?” Emma nods sheepishly, “I know it is crazy, but I need some help here. I’m going nuts, and I do not want to cheat on him. I think me pretending to be an inanimate love doll for a couple of days each week Ryan is gone, I can live my life as normal.” Before Saul can reply, she pleads, “I can’t concentrate on anything. I can’t live like this. I need help!” Saul moves to say something, but then she presses on, “There would be no relationship here, no emotional attachment, just a simple release of this incredible sexual tension.” Saul steps back and leans against the table. “There are so many things wrong with that, and I do not see how we can get past them.” Sifting through her bag, she pulls out a mask. “Notice, I have a love doll mask that matches my skin tone, and it will cover my eyes and keep my mouth in a constant smile. It has no hair attachments, so you can put any wig on me.” He nods his head, as she continues, “And I bought a special vagina cover, see?” And with that, she drops her pants and panties, revealing a smooth and somewhat non-human looking womanhood. “It provides protection from any diseases from the guy and it gives the unnaturally smooth finish that most guys love.” Again, Saul cannot help but smile. Wow, she really thought of everything. “Now, once I put this mask on, I cannot talk, but I shouldn’t need to. If I can fool the staff here, I can fool anyone. So, can we try it?” Saul shrugs his shoulders, as if he is at a loss to stop this crazy idea from happening. She goes ahead and pulls on the mask, tucking in her hair and sealing it into her mouth and around her neck. Without a close inspection, it looks seamless. It does leave her ears exposed, but with the matching skin tone, she looks fake…like a lovedoll. He finally says, “Ok, let’s just say I think it will work, let me do a couple of quick scans. Can you sit up on the table here?” Walking in her bare feet, she sits up on the table. “Ok, bend your arms 90 degrees and put them out slightly. Uh, straighten your legs out and spread them apart a little more.” Emma responds as requested, getting excited about her possible idea coming true. He runs a quick scan from the tables’ display. “Hmmm, you are about the right height and weight. Believe it or not, your chest size is smaller than the average lovedoll, as are your hips.” As he looks at the display, the hallway door opens. A younger man than Saul walks in, wearing the usual coveralls of a technician. “Oh, hey, Saul,” the new person to the room states as he moves closer, “Got something new here?” Saul mumbles a curse word or two, and says with little conviction, “Uh, yeah, Jase, checking a prototype doll… a new realistic version.” The technician stops at the table with Emma sitting there motionless. “I agree, she is very realistic. Smaller rack,” Jase says as he cups her left breast with his gloved hands, “not-quite hourglass figure,” running his other hand along her waist, “but her face and hole look great,” placing a couple of fingers up into her. Saul nods uncomfortably, watching all this play out in front of him. “Well, you know, it’s just a concept doll.” He makes a motion to say more, but his phone rings. Saul steps back to take the call, while Jase continues his inspection. He asks, “Has she been through the glosser machine?” Saul talking points to his ear like he could not hear him. The technician asks, “Glosser?” Saul thinks, gloss her? no way. He mouths a ’no.’ The tech nods, “No problem, I can prep her. Off to the glosser, future slut.” Grabbing a bottle from a nearby cart, he pushes one of her arms across her stomach and under her chest. He squirts some type of goo on her arm, causing it to stick in place. He takes her other arm and does the same above her chest. I hope this ‘glue’ is not permanent, Emma wonders. He then puts some on each nipple, then pushes her knees up to stick on each glue spot. Good thing I stretched out earlier today, she giggles to herself. Grabbing an elastic band, he loops it around her feet and slides it between her breasts and around her head, which pulls her feet and head in tight, making her into a ball shape. He steps away to get something else off the cart. At this point, Saul notices that Jase is wrapping up Emma for transit. Why is he doing that? It is no like I’m gonna let him gloss her, he reasons. He steps forward, still on the phone, when an older woman steps into the room unannounced. “Hey, Saul, get your butt in gear, Marketing is looking for you!” Crap, Saul thinks, I forgot about that meeting. “Don’t worry, “Jase says, “I will take care of your prototype and bring her to your office.” Saul nods his head in thanks and walks out with the lady. Well, Emma reasons, I have fooled two people so far. Holding up a small device behind her ear, Emma feels pressure on the back of her ear lobe. “There we go,” Jase announces, “Welcome to inventory, dolly”. Inventory? Emma wonders, as he pushes her onto a cart. He starts to wrap her up in plastic, then hooks the bag up to a machine. In a few seconds, Emma is vacuumed sealed for transport. Before she can worry about that, the bag is dropped into a lower part of the cart and flash frozen. Emma feels herself fall then nothing, as her curled up body is sent to absolute zero. Without any fanfare, Jase pushes the cart out the door and down the hall. He walks slowly through the hallways and down the elevators. He eventually ends up in the factory next to the office building. He walks past a large machine labeled “glosser” to go to the back of the building. A bullet train, one of many used to connect all manufacturing factories across the country, is waiting to be loaded. Within minutes it is packed, with Emma’s cube-shaped box being placed against a wall under many other cube-shaped boxes, the bullet train leaves at high speed. Next stop: 300 hundred miles away! The bullet train makes the delivery in about an hour in Kansas, where an army of drones removes the boxes from the cargo area. Emma and all the other love dolls are put onto conveyor belts and brought into a large factory building. Each box is scanned on the way in and then directed to its temporary location. Like the dolls being run through the glosser, Emma is thawed out in an instant and then dumped from the vacuum bag into the glosser. She is sprayed from head to toe with a thick layer of shiny, glossing liquid. For each doll, they are rerun through the machine 2 more times. She exits the glosser on a different conveyor belt laying on her back. She is moved into a another machine that places her in another vacuum bag. In her prone state, she looks just like an inanimate love doll. The vacuum bag is sealed, all the air removed, then placed into a tube shaped box. Before she can even gain consciousness, she is flash frozen again and loaded back onto another bullet train for her second sub-sonic trip of the day. This time, the cargo is mostly tubes of love dolls that had been glossed or sealed or repaired or whatever else the factory in Kansas does. In less than an hour, she will be back in her home town, having traveled nearly 700 miles in a day and not even realizing it. Later that afternoon, she is sitting on the couch in Saul’s office. The glosser has made sure her mask was not coming off, so she cannot really communicate with him. Her pink mohawk with pink eyebrows and matching finger nails and toenails, seem to be anything but her personality, yet there she is: biker chick model #4. Saul continues on his rant, “And it was not like you asked… you just jumped right in. You just go off to Kansas and back and through the departments… parading yourself as the newest prototype… not caring for others…” Emma would protest most of his arguments, if she could talk. For now, she is just enjoying being a doll, but wishing she was being played with. Really need someone to play with me, she pleads. “Good news: we are doing product tests today, so your presence here fits. Bad news: the glossing material has a 24 hour expiration, meaning we cannot get it off you until tomorrow.” Saul takes a moment for a heavy sigh, “so our best option is to put you in the product test today. It will be good for me, and great for you.” Emma smiles internally, oh I hope so. Within 15 minutes, Emma is transported to a spacious room with 5 oversized armchairs. In four of them, there are love dolls of usual, exaggerated proportions. They each have a different themed hair cut, from short to long hair, matching toenails and finger nails, bright colors, lighter skin tones and darker skin tones. Emma is deposited into one of the chairs, positioned like the others: sitting, legs spread and arms bent. Emma giggles to herself, I’m ready! Like the others, she sits there quietly, patiently waiting in her chair. In a few minutes, 5 men and 1 woman walk into the room. Each man has a tablet PC in their hands. They are all dressed casually, with nothing to indicate who they are. “And here gentlemen,” the lady says standing behind the chairs, “We have 5 new prototype love dolls. Each one,” she waves her hand in front of the them, “is a slightly different model, so you will notice different features for them.” Motioning to their tablets, “Some of the questions on the survey will not fit each doll, but answer each as completely as you can. Any questions?” The men are not paying any attention to the marketing rep, as each can only stare at the 5 waiting and willing bodies in front of them. After an awkward silence, she adds, “Well then, thank you for participating in our quarterly survey. You have 30 minutes.” And with that, she walks out the door leaving the 10 of them to get better acquainted. Each man takes a love doll to inspect. With tablet in hand, they start poking and prodding the dolls’ skin. They make notes on their skin tones and textures. When it comes to the “feel” test, each doll gets cupped, flipped, squeezed, and fondled. Once they complete that, they answer the survey questions. Emma enjoys all the “foreplay” that is taking place, as it makes her feel very good. She would like to have more, but then she has to remind herself that she is just a love doll… an inanimate object… a toy for other’s pleasure. They each get a turn at each doll, answering the multiple choice questions from their tablet. Regardless of which guy, they all make a comment on her “rack” being “too small” or “not over sized”, so they score her low in that category. Emma would like to remind them that she is the realistic prototype, but once again, she is just a toy to them. They all make positive comments out loud about her texture and skin tone. They also add a negative to her theme: pink mohawk? “Oh no,” one guy said, “They are still stuck in the 2060’s on that one.” But all in all, Emma felt quite good about how she looked. The next set of 5 were another group of men who did basically the same thing. One fellow prodded her more than the others, so she was able to get some release from that. The next group were ladies, who had the same type of questions to answer. They all scored Emma high on her “chest size,” saying something to the effect of, “it is about time they got it right!” Her theme was scored low, again, but over all, she ranked well with the other dolls. She did notice that the ladies did not prod near as much as the men did, but that is okay with Emma. And then the final group was another 5 of men, who acted just like the first two groups of men. After they left, a short robot comes in with 4 arms and a basket attached to its base. The mechanical arms have rags and wipes attached to them. It goes to each love doll and wipes them off, making sure they are still shiny for the next round of testing. With that done, each love doll is delivered to room down the hall. As the large man hauls Emma into the room, she can see a large bed with nice sheets on it, two bed side tables with lamps on them, and a door to a bathroom to one side. There are no other furnishings or paintings or anything on the walls. As Emma thinks on that, she dumped onto the bed. The guy rolls her over and props her up on the pillows. Without any other communication, he walks out the door and closes it. Oh, Emma thinks hopefully, I am really hoping this is what I think it is. If so, Emma squeals internally, I might just get rid of some of this sexual tension. From the bed, she can hear talking in the hallway. The marketing lady is talking again,”…next part… answer questions… don’t break… enjoy!” And with that, the door opens, and she sees one of the men from the first group. He has a tablet in his hand, answering the multiple choice questions as he walks to the bed. With one hand he puts the tablet on the edge of the bed, while with the other hand, he unzips his pants. Emma thinks, is he even going to take off his pants? As if an answer to her, his manhood pops out of his pants. Before she can even remark on it, he penetrates her and goes to work. He does not even build up to speed, as he instantly starts at high speed. Emma thinks as she bounces up and down, well I did not want to make an attachment here, as I am trying not to cheat on my husband, so I guess this is a good thing. She was ready from all the earlier testing, so she finished within a few seconds. He took longer, which allowed her to finish again. As he pants heavily, he gets up on his knees and grabs the tablet. “Well,” he says, punching in his opinion, “it’s a solid average. Worth my time but not worth the money.” Emma was hurt by that, and while he meant no harm by his comments, she could not help but take them personally. He walks to the bathroom, freshens up a little, and then walks out of the room, leaving the door open. Hey, man, Emma screams on the inside, naked lady laying here! As if it heard her, the small robot comes in and closes the door. It extends two arms that promptly clean Emma’s lower regions. With a light spray of cleaner and lube, Emma is flipped over and back again, ensuring she is ready for the next round. Coming along side the bed, the robot pulls her back up towards the head of the bed, pushing some pillows under her to prop her up. It rolls out of the room quickly, the door left open. Once again, another man comes in that she recognizes, but this time from group 2. He spends a little more time with the tablet. He looks at her from different angles. He covers her up with the blanket, then half uncovers her. He repositions her a couple of times. Finally, he strips completely and climbs in under the sheets. He pulls Emma over on top of him. Reaching for the tablet, he mumbles, “A little heavy for my tastes…” Setting the tablet down, he grabs his phone from the bedside table. Pushing a button on it, he sets it back down. Emma can hear a female voice saying, “Oh my, you are so big. I can’t wait for you to do me. Please, please bang me!” And so, Emma “says” all kinds of things to him as he runs his hands up and down her back. After a few minutes, she feels pressure down below and finally, he gets hard enough to come inside her. Gripping her butt cheeks tighter, he pulls her down on him then pushes her back up. His phone continues to talk for her as she “rides” him. Keeping with the voice, he finishes when the voice acts as if he did. She had already enjoyed three climaxes with him. “Mmmm,” the female voice says in a sultry way, “That was so good.” And with that, the phone goes silent. He slides out from under her, leaving her face down in the bed. She can hear him tapping on the keyboard, but what she can feel is that his load is starting to run out of her. Oh, man, she thinks, please flip me over before I make a mess of these sheets. I really don’t want to be lying in your junk. He does not hear her, so he finishes his survey, redresses himself, and then leaves the room. Emma slowly drips all over the sheets. Ok, she admits, he was the best in bed so far, but also the messiest. This continues for the next couple of hours. She gets time with the men and women from each group, or at least most of them. The men all want to start quickly, finish just as quickly, then get out. The women take much longer, trying to enjoy the experience. Some had brought special panties to wear to help, while others were content with just cuddling. Any way they wanted it, they could have it, and Emma was just an object to be used. For now, she really does not care, as she is experiencing a feeling she has not had in over a year: satisfaction. By late afternoon, a cart came rolling into her room. Inside the cart were the other lovedolls, thrown into a pile on the moving platform. Like the others, the robotic arms lift her and drag her onto the pile. The cart drives out of the room and picks up one more from another “bedroom.” Emma noted that it looked just like the room she was in. The cart, heavy with its load, drives off into the factory. Emma cannot see where she is going, but she can hear the sounds of the office space being replaced by the noises of machines. Not too worried, she is still shocked when the cart stops suddenly, sending all the lovedolls into a vat of liquid. It smells pretty bad, even for Emma’s mostly-closed nose. Before she can worry about drowning, she is pulled out, dried off, and put back on a cart by herself. She is then driven around the factory and into Saul’s office. She is dumped onto the table and left alone. She notes that she could move now, if she wanted to, as the glossing finish seems to be off her skin. Maybe my day is about over? she wonders. As if she spoke out loud, she hears a set of shoes come in the door. She also hears the door lock. Then, she hears Saul say, “Ok, Emma, you can get up now, it’s safe.” He sets a water bottle down next to her. Moving slowly, she rolls over on the table and sits up. Removing her mask, she massages her face from being stuck in a smile all day. “Well,” Saul says sarcastically, “Are we happy?” Emma can only reply with a heavy sigh, “YES!” Saul cannot help but smile as well, as he can tell from her face that she is a totally different person than when she came in this morning. She looks relaxed and moving at a much slower pace, definitely toned down in attitude. Chuckling, “I’m glad… I really am. Today went better than I thought, and much as I hate to admit this,” he says shrugging his shoulders, “I’m glad you came in.” Putting on her clothes from the end of the table while drinking as much water as she can, she replies, “Me too, this is just what I needed.” Once she is done, she packs her “doll” items in her purse and moves to the door. “I know this was not easy for you, but I really do appreciate it,” she says genuinely. Before he can reply, she adds, “And I’m sure I will need this again.” His smile fades and he says, somewhat defeatedly, “I figured.” They shake hands and she leaves his office. As the Sun starts to set, he slumps down into his chair. Tomorrow, they will begin pouring over the data from today. The design group from 4th floor thinks the new realistic prototype was from 2nd floor. The design group from 2nd, thinks Emma was a product of the 3rd floor design group. Saul was able to put everyone off in thinking Emma was planned by someone else as a surprise. For now, he thinks as he rubs the temples on the side of his head, I pulled it off. He notices a flashing light on his display screen that he almost never sees. In the lower left, a light flashes, “Doll Export Unauthorized.” Looking on the live schematic on his other screen, he sees a love doll signal at the front lobby area. It is moving slowly to the front doors, almost as if it was walking by itself. At once he realizes what it is, or more precisely, who it is. Speed dialing the front security desk, he says quickly, “Stop Mrs. Thomkins from leaving please, and send her back to the east delivery room. She, uh, forgot something.” Hanging up the phone before the security guard can reply, he walks out of his office towards the east delivery room. Emma, who had been strolling to the front door, is suddenly blocked just feet from it by the security guard. “Mrs. Thomkins, you need to go back to the east delivery room. Mr Perkins says you forgot something.” Emma asks with a questioning face, “Delivery room? I don’t think I was ever in there.” The security guard keeps his hands up, restating, “Mr Perkins has requested you return to the east delivery room.” His restatement was not said in the most kindest way. Not wanting to put a damper on her mood, she replies, “Ok, sure, no problem. Which way?” Hey, she thinks to herself, maybe Saul has something else he needs to tell me. Entering the east delivery room, Saul has an outfit on the packaging table. As she enters, he closes the door quickly behind her and says, “Had you already signed out?” Emma confused by his curtness, replies, “What do you mean? Oh, right, yes, I did.” He sighs, “Good, now I need you to put this costume on.” She turns to look at the table, seeing some type of black cat suit. She does not move and says, “Why? I’m not staying, am I?” Saul explains, “That tag on your ear lobe is a tracker. If you walk out of this building, you will set every alarm off, and then we are all in big trouble.” Emma, touching her right ear lobe, mouths “oooohhh.” “So,” he continues, “I need you to dress as a Halloween rental, so I can have you delivered to your house party that you are having tonight.” Emma nods her head, as she walks over to the table. On it, there is a shiny cat suit with textured knees and elbows. The boots look rugged ready for combat with buckles and thick soles. The gloves look like they pull up to her elbows, and there is a mask and set of ears to put into her hair. “Catwoman?” she asks. Saul nods quickly, “Yeah, it was the only thing I could get so quickly. It was a return from a party this week, and it has not been processed back into the system.” She looks at it carefully. It is shiny, but not really latex. Maybe plastic or vinyl? she speculates. “So, you put it on, then I put you through the packaging machine. Don’t worry,” he says after seeing her facial reaction, “it is simply attaching you to a piece of plastic backer board and then wrapping a cardboard-base case around it.” As she tries to visualize that, he adds, “You would look like a giant Barbie doll in the package.” Nodding her head, she starts to strip in front of Saul, again. “The mask will cover my blinking, but will this suit fit me?” He shrugs his shoulders, “I hope so… it is our only option.” She starts pulling the cat suit on her, and while the legs are tight, there is plenty of room in her hips. When she gets the top part on and starts zipping it up, it gathers under her arms due to her smaller chest size. “Uh, Saul,” she says sadly, “This is going to look stupid.” He starts looking around the small room, “Keep going, I will find something.” Trusting him like she has all day, she finishes by pulling on and buckling the boots and stretching the gloves on her arms. The mask and ears attach snugly to her head. As she finishes, he produces some small binder clips from the nearby desk. “Here, turn around,” he orders. She does as asked, and feels some pressure on various parts of her back and near her butt. Looking in a nearby mirrored surface, she can see the suit tightening around her, looking more natural. “There,” he says proudly, “How about that?” She nods her approval, “Nice job.” Laying down on the backerboard, moving a little to reposition the binder clips under her back, he says, “Ok, I will run you through then have you processed out the door. You should be delivered to your apartment in an hour.” She tilts her head to protest, “But there is nobody there to let me in.” Saul smiles, having seen his text message from earlier in the day on her phone, and says, “Ah, but your husband just got into town this evening, and is waiting on a package from work.” Emma smiles broadly, giggling softly. “Oh, won’t he be surprised…” Laying back down, the machine comes to life. Metallic arms stretch out and slip plastic zip ties through the plastic backer board and around her wrists, ankles, and waist. She can feel her body being firmly constricted. Clear rubber bands are then placed around her arms and legs and neck. They are not too tight, but she can feel them there, especially the waist one as it makes the binder clips dig into her back a little more. A thin cardboard-looking cover is wrapped around her and taped tight. The clear plastic window shows her the ceiling then Saul’s face. “Ok,” he says muffled, “Be a doll for a bit longer. I will tell security you locked your keys in your car and will pick it up tomorrow.” Scratching his head, he adds with a grin, “I probably need to put you on pay roll as a part-time prototype.” And with that, he leaves. She can feel the box being picked up and moved to another location. She can hear beeping and other background noises. She can see several men from time to time look in on her. She keeps still and looks straight ahead as they look on. Because she is being shipped out, they do not get to look long, which helps her keep her appearance of being a doll. Within minutes, she is loaded onto a truck and sent across town. As she bounces up and down on the road, she looks forward to being home. This has been an amazing day, but I think I’m ready to be human “again,” she thinks to herself. Finally, the driver stops and gets out, removing her from the van on a hand truck. Up the stairs makes her chest bounce all over the place, as the rest of her is locked in tight. As he turns her around in the box, she is facing her and her husband’s apartment door. The door opens to her husband, looking a little rough from travel. However, the look on his face when he sees her is priceless. She can see his look of surprise become one of desire. As he signs for her, the driver wheels her in and sets her down face-up on the living room floor. Once he is alone, her husband looks down into the box. Looking her up and down with a lustful expression on his face, he says, “So, should I unbox my present now, or wait until my wife comes home?” As she wonders if he realizes it is her in there, he winks at “Catwoman”, causing her to smile. I was satisfied this afternoon, she says to herself truthfully, but maybe one more round would be good, too. ...

Based on drawings by Colourfultrick “Rental Robot ” on deviantart Janet’s clothing based on Lucy Latex “Party Doll” RealFuckDoll (see above) Janet had been severely injured in a vehicle accident; the car was speeding and had come from out of nowhere and struck her as she walked across the street from her office to the station on her way home. It was touch and go at first if she would survive; she spent many weeks in hospital recovering and then many more for physio. Both legs and one arm had to be amputated due to her injuries and were replaced by robotic artificial limbs that were now being made by the Maid-bot, Inc subsidiary Med-Tech, Inc. Advances in human limb replacement had been made since they had launched their ‘Stacy-Maidbot’ line where people can experience being a maid-bot in their own homes, for fun or pleasure. The controls that enabled that person to be controlled as a Maid-bot now developed into the medical field and in particular in Janet’s case limb replacement. The limbs becoming part of the body, fused to bone and flesh, the nerves connecting to sensors for feeling. There was at first a back lash against the initial introduction of the artificial limbs as they required a chip implant that connects to the brain, many people who weren’t disabled thought this a bad idea as a way of controlling people, but others jumped at the chance to be able to walk again. They didn’t care about the chip inserts, they were just pleased to be able to have legs, arms or hands, whichever they needed replaced through birth, illness or accident. The limbs are controlled by the chip implant, but work from stimuli from the brain as would a normal limb, then through the chip to the limb. They are fully programmable, and updates are readily available, but this requires a wireless remote connection for the chip to download information. This is a patch that you can apply to the rear of the neck that enables the connection. The patch is removable to allay fears of people being reprogrammed into Maid-bots or androids whilst they slept. Janet is often mistaken by others for one of the sex-bots that are now available for pleasure and entertainment, these are also an off-shoot of the Maid-bots company, and there are several websites and even stores where you can buy or rent one, they appear to be very popular. You can see them as they walk the streets between clients or back to their base, just as you see Maid-bots more often outdoors now carrying out their owner’s commands. The trouble is Janet shares the same legs and arms as the sex-bots, as her insurance only covered her for basic limb replacement not the full deluxe version that match the skin of the wearer, much to her annoyance. She couldn’t afford to get the more pricier limbs on her wage either, so she was stuck with the basic limbs, they had a plastic sheen to the surface and you could see the joins, especially around where her limbs needed the most flexibility, her knees, elbow and hand, there was a gap to allow movement. A couple of her former boyfriends had even asked her to play at being a Sex-bot, the first one she punched out at his suggestion; lucky for him it was her human arm and not the robotic one. The other later boyfriend had been with her for a while longer before he asked Janet; she really liked him and when he asked he was more pleasant about the request, turning it more into a game which they both eventually enjoyed. She laid there as he played with her body, they both climaxing several times that night and in some following sessions too, she grew to love being controlled by him and following his commands, even though it was voluntary and not through her interface or programming. She would also perform oral sex too, something which she liked to do anyway, on his command, usually only for his pleasure but she still enjoyed it anyway. They even tried anal one time when he asked and then commanded it of her, she reluctant as it was her first time, but when she heard him say it the way he would to a sex-bot, she overcame her hesitancy, her mind becoming more accomodating to his order, he took his time entering her and he treated her gently and they both eventually enjoyed the experience. Something inside her seemed to have clicked, she seemed to love being controlled more and more, she sometimes even craved it, seeking it out more often. But he grew bored with Janet, they’d tried everything and Janet seemed to want more of the sex-bot side of things and less of a relationship, so they eventually drifted apart. He finding love in the arms of a blonde bimbo, ‘So not much change from the controlled sex-bot then!’ Janet laughed at the thought. Janet drifted though a couple more failed relationships before seeming to give up on dating; they seemed to missing that certain spark that she had enjoyed. But that was a while ago, she found it hard to attract the opposite sex, with the way she looked they were either freaked out about her limbs or too freaky and only wanted to use her once as a sex-bot, not having a more satisfying relationship. So she spent her days coming home from work, cooking for herself and just watching movies at home. Her life didn’t seem to be going anywhere; her friends all had steady relationships, and some even married and had children. Janet didn’t have anyone in her life to find joy or love. She had just finished cleaning up and then checking her emails, when she noticed an advertisement for an online service for discreet one-on-one sessions with a sex-bot, these could even be programmed to be either dominant or submissive, they even had discounts for disabled persons such as herself. They were setting up locally to her apartment, and as an introduction they were offering 20% off plus the discount she would receive giving her nearly 50% off. Janet had felt lonely for too long she thought, she needed something to perk her up and maybe this could be it. She missed the sessions when she was controlled as a sex-bot, she loved how she felt under the control of someone else, she now sensed that this was what she wanted in a relationship, and she just hadn’t met the right man. “Well blow waiting for him to turn up. This may well be the answer, at least for a short while.” Janet said to herself. She had some leave up her sleeve and her boss was on her back to take some, so she thought why not kill two birds with one stone, take time off and enjoy myself with one of these sex-bots. “I want to see what everyone is so worked up about them for.” She said again to herself. A quick email to work and her time off now booked in, she went online to see what she could order from this new service. Opening up the site she was presented with several images of different sex-bots, all wearing different outfits, hair colours and skin shades. She had decided on a female sex-bot, she believed that ‘she’ would be meaner than a male sex-bot, or at least appear that way to her, ‘More bitch than butch,’ she thought. ‘Plus I’m over boys at the moment.’ Janet had to choose from the images which model she wanted, she’d always liked red hair like her own, but thought that for the bot to be more dominant then black would be the appropriate colour. Dark eyes too plus heavy make-up, she had this vision in her mind from too many soft core pornography videos she watched of what a dominatrix looked like. Choosing body sizes and dimensions, then it got on to what the sex-bot would be wearing. She looked at several bizarre outfits, all leather with straps and such, but then thought, ‘Oh no, this is what my neighbours would see when she turned up.’ And decided to dress her down a bit, so not to attract too much attention. Black leather Basque, leather wrap around skirt, leather knee length boots, all in black, black pantyhose with a cut out for the crotch, all covered with a long black leather trench coat to hide it all under. Janet wanted the sex-bot to be sexy for her and also be dominant looking, as Janet would be the bots submissive plaything. She was getting quite turned on by the thought of what she was doing. Placing the order for the sex-bot of her choice and the clothing for it to wear seemed to still be quite expensive to Janet’s mind, but she’d taken leave and was determined to enjoy herself, so she then went to the section with session information, what was the bot required to do. Janet clicked on the Dominant button, there were several other questions that she didn’t bother reading too much and clicked on those too. Now it changed screens to session length, how long do you require the services of the sex-bot it asked? ‘MMmm..’ Janet thought, ‘I wonder how much I can afford, I’d like the weekend, maybe 48 hours or more, let’s click to see how much that’ll be.’ Clicking gave Janet the cost, and even with the near 50% discount she was stunned at the price, she could afford it, if she cut back spending for the next few months, but it might max out her credit for a while and maybe even go over if a bill comes in beforehand. But she’d come this far now and was really looking forward to experiencing this, she had felt the moisture building between her legs, so turned on was she that she clicked ‘accept’ before she changed her mind. *** ...

Based on drawings by Colourfultrick “Rental Robot ” on deviantart Janet’s clothing based on Lucy Latex “Party Doll” RealFuckDoll (see above) Janet had been severely injured in a vehicle accident; the car was speeding and had come from out of nowhere and struck her as she walked across the street from her office to the station on her way home. It was touch and go at first if she would survive; she spent many weeks in hospital recovering and then many more for physio. Both legs and one arm had to be amputated due to her injuries and were replaced by robotic artificial limbs that were now being made by the Maid-bot, Inc subsidiary Med-Tech, Inc. Advances in human limb replacement had been made since they had launched their ‘Stacy-Maidbot’ line where people can experience being a maid-bot in their own homes, for fun or pleasure. The controls that enabled that person to be controlled as a Maid-bot now developed into the medical field and in particular in Janet’s case limb replacement. The limbs becoming part of the body, fused to bone and flesh, the nerves connecting to sensors for feeling. There was at first a back lash against the initial introduction of the artificial limbs as they required a chip implant that connects to the brain, many people who weren’t disabled thought this a bad idea as a way of controlling people, but others jumped at the chance to be able to walk again. They didn’t care about the chip inserts, they were just pleased to be able to have legs, arms or hands, whichever they needed replaced through birth, illness or accident. The limbs are controlled by the chip implant, but work from stimuli from the brain as would a normal limb, then through the chip to the limb. They are fully programmable, and updates are readily available, but this requires a wireless remote connection for the chip to download information. This is a patch that you can apply to the rear of the neck that enables the connection. The patch is removable to allay fears of people being reprogrammed into Maid-bots or androids whilst they slept. Janet is often mistaken by others for one of the sex-bots that are now available for pleasure and entertainment, these are also an off-shoot of the Maid-bots company, and there are several websites and even stores where you can buy or rent one, they appear to be very popular. You can see them as they walk the streets between clients or back to their base, just as you see Maid-bots more often outdoors now carrying out their owner’s commands. The trouble is Janet shares the same legs and arms as the sex-bots, as her insurance only covered her for basic limb replacement not the full deluxe version that match the skin of the wearer, much to her annoyance. She couldn’t afford to get the more pricier limbs on her wage either, so she was stuck with the basic limbs, they had a plastic sheen to the surface and you could see the joins, especially around where her limbs needed the most flexibility, her knees, elbow and hand, there was a gap to allow movement. A couple of her former boyfriends had even asked her to play at being a Sex-bot, the first one she punched out at his suggestion; lucky for him it was her human arm and not the robotic one. The other later boyfriend had been with her for a while longer before he asked Janet; she really liked him and when he asked he was more pleasant about the request, turning it more into a game which they both eventually enjoyed. She laid there as he played with her body, they both climaxing several times that night and in some following sessions too, she grew to love being controlled by him and following his commands, even though it was voluntary and not through her interface or programming. She would also perform oral sex too, something which she liked to do anyway, on his command, usually only for his pleasure but she still enjoyed it anyway. They even tried anal one time when he asked and then commanded it of her, she reluctant as it was her first time, but when she heard him say it the way he would to a sex-bot, she overcame her hesitancy, her mind becoming more accomodating to his order, he took his time entering her and he treated her gently and they both eventually enjoyed the experience. Something inside her seemed to have clicked, she seemed to love being controlled more and more, she sometimes even craved it, seeking it out more often. But he grew bored with Janet, they’d tried everything and Janet seemed to want more of the sex-bot side of things and less of a relationship, so they eventually drifted apart. He finding love in the arms of a blonde bimbo, ‘So not much change from the controlled sex-bot then!’ Janet laughed at the thought. Janet drifted though a couple more failed relationships before seeming to give up on dating; they seemed to missing that certain spark that she had enjoyed. But that was a while ago, she found it hard to attract the opposite sex, with the way she looked they were either freaked out about her limbs or too freaky and only wanted to use her once as a sex-bot, not having a more satisfying relationship. So she spent her days coming home from work, cooking for herself and just watching movies at home. Her life didn’t seem to be going anywhere; her friends all had steady relationships, and some even married and had children. Janet didn’t have anyone in her life to find joy or love. She had just finished cleaning up and then checking her emails, when she noticed an advertisement for an online service for discreet one-on-one sessions with a sex-bot, these could even be programmed to be either dominant or submissive, they even had discounts for disabled persons such as herself. They were setting up locally to her apartment, and as an introduction they were offering 20% off plus the discount she would receive giving her nearly 50% off. Janet had felt lonely for too long she thought, she needed something to perk her up and maybe this could be it. She missed the sessions when she was controlled as a sex-bot, she loved how she felt under the control of someone else, she now sensed that this was what she wanted in a relationship, and she just hadn’t met the right man. “Well blow waiting for him to turn up. This may well be the answer, at least for a short while.” Janet said to herself. She had some leave up her sleeve and her boss was on her back to take some, so she thought why not kill two birds with one stone, take time off and enjoy myself with one of these sex-bots. “I want to see what everyone is so worked up about them for.” She said again to herself. A quick email to work and her time off now booked in, she went online to see what she could order from this new service. Opening up the site she was presented with several images of different sex-bots, all wearing different outfits, hair colours and skin shades. She had decided on a female sex-bot, she believed that ‘she’ would be meaner than a male sex-bot, or at least appear that way to her, ‘More bitch than butch,’ she thought. ‘Plus I’m over boys at the moment.’ Janet had to choose from the images which model she wanted, she’d always liked red hair like her own, but thought that for the bot to be more dominant then black would be the appropriate colour. Dark eyes too plus heavy make-up, she had this vision in her mind from too many soft core pornography videos she watched of what a dominatrix looked like. Choosing body sizes and dimensions, then it got on to what the sex-bot would be wearing. She looked at several bizarre outfits, all leather with straps and such, but then thought, ‘Oh no, this is what my neighbours would see when she turned up.’ And decided to dress her down a bit, so not to attract too much attention. Black leather Basque, leather wrap around skirt, leather knee length boots, all in black, black pantyhose with a cut out for the crotch, all covered with a long black leather trench coat to hide it all under. Janet wanted the sex-bot to be sexy for her and also be dominant looking, as Janet would be the bots submissive plaything. She was getting quite turned on by the thought of what she was doing. Placing the order for the sex-bot of her choice and the clothing for it to wear seemed to still be quite expensive to Janet’s mind, but she’d taken leave and was determined to enjoy herself, so she then went to the section with session information, what was the bot required to do. Janet clicked on the Dominant button, there were several other questions that she didn’t bother reading too much and clicked on those too. Now it changed screens to session length, how long do you require the services of the sex-bot it asked? ‘MMmm..’ Janet thought, ‘I wonder how much I can afford, I’d like the weekend, maybe 48 hours or more, let’s click to see how much that’ll be.’ Clicking gave Janet the cost, and even with the near 50% discount she was stunned at the price, she could afford it, if she cut back spending for the next few months, but it might max out her credit for a while and maybe even go over if a bill comes in beforehand. But she’d come this far now and was really looking forward to experiencing this, she had felt the moisture building between her legs, so turned on was she that she clicked ‘accept’ before she changed her mind. *** ...

story continued from part two Part 3a: Back to the Factory - the nicer ending The original darker ending for this story part 3a: Back to the Factory - the darker ending Morning came and the usual routine started as Stacy awoke, got dressed and received orders to report to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for several of the guests. Stacy whizzed though her assigned tasks and was directed by the system to carry a tray upstairs to one of the rooms. Upon knocking and allowed entry, she found her sister Liz still in bed with Louise; they were kissing each other as she walked in the room, Liz hoping to embarrass her with what she was doing.

story continued from part two Part 3: Back to the Factory - the darker ending There is now a nicer ending for this story part 3a: Back to the Factory - the nice ending Morning came and the usual routine started as Stacy awoke, got dressed and received orders to report to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for several of the guests. Stacy whizzed though her assigned tasks and was directed by the system to carry a tray upstairs to one of the rooms. Upon knocking and allowed entry, she found her sister Liz still in bed with Louise; they were kissing each other as she walked in the room, Liz hoping to embarrass her with what she was doing. ...

(story continues from The Family Maid 2: The Sister from Hell) Part 3: Back to the Factory - the darker ending There is now a nicer ending for this story part 3a: Back to the Factory - the nice ending Morning came and the usual routine started as Stacy awoke, got dressed and received orders to report to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for several of the guests. Stacy whizzed though her assigned tasks and was directed by the system to carry a tray upstairs to one of the rooms. Upon knocking and allowed entry, she found her sister Liz still in bed with Louise; they were kissing each other as she walked in the room, Liz hoping to embarrass her with what she was doing. ...

Woman to Sexdoll TF I suppose taking a tour through a factory that made nothing but pricey and lifelike sex dolls is not everyone’s ideal way to spend a Saturday. But for me, that is just what I needed to relax. My name is Veronica and this is not my first time coming to the Shadytree Doll factory. In actuality I come here at least once every few months to relive my fantasy. You see, I have always found the thought of being made into a sex doll hot. Just being an object made of special material that has no purpose other than to be fucked? Sounds kinky in all the right ways for me. Since I am too embarrassed to actually try acting upon my fantasies, I come to a very well-known factory that makes the dolls I dream about so often and take a guided tour. This allows me to imagine myself in the place of one of the dolls throughout the process of making one, and by the end I am usually very horny and ready for a night of fun in my apartment. After stepping off of the bus I walked into the large building and talked briefly with the receptionist. “One for the next guided tour of the factory please.” I said to the woman who typed away at her computer without a care for what I did. Finding her response odd, I spoke up again. “Excuse me ma’am. I would like to take the guided tour. Can you please sign me up?” Again I waited and again I was met with no response from the rude brunette. Instead of trying a third time I turned away from her and made my way into the larger part of the factory, hoping to find another worker to talk to. Stepping into the production portion of the building I smiled. Around me I could see hundreds of dolls being prepared for a life of sex and love from an owner. Just thinking about it made me feel bothered in my nether regions. I walked forward, but to my surprise, no one was around. The factory was void of any workers at their usual positions or even at the control panel. This was strange. “Weird… is it lunch break or did they maybe upgrade the systems since the last time I was here?” I kept looking around for a few minutes before sighing and turning around to leave. As I did however, I ran into some type of metal frame hanging down and was knocked off balance. “Ow!” I yelled as I fell over and landed against something soft. Looking around, I see that during my fall I was pushed over the railing and landed directly on one of the newer dolls that was recently placed on a conveyor belt. It appears I fell onto the beginning of the large machine seeing as dolls were being pulled out of a dark hole in the ground and placed behind where I was now laying. “God that could have ended so much worse…” I whisper as I think on how many bones I could have potentially broken had the doll not broken my fall. “Now what though?” My internal musings were broken by a whirring noise coming from behind me. Turning to face the other direction I gasped as the mouth of another portion of the machine opened to allow the doll I was currently sharing a space with entrance. Panicking I scramble to get off of the belt and away from the machine, instead, I shove the doll underneath me a little too hard. I can only watch in horror as I slip onto my backside and the human looking lump of latex fell to the floor where I wanted to be. Once more, I tried to recover and abandon the machinery trying to make me into something I am not, but it was too late. A shadow loomed over my body +and the scenery changed from a large room into metal walls as the mouth closed around me and locked me to my fate. I didn’t know what to expect as I turned to face the oncoming machine. I just knew it was unavoidable now. A green light shone down and seemed to take note of every inch of my body. It flashed twice before a synthesized woman’s voice sounded out all around me. “Model is wearing unnecessary clothing. Removal needed. Model’s body structure is not up to company standards. Upgrades necessary. Facial restructuring not needed. Pleasing facial features acknowledged. Begin process.” My mind was swirling as the information set in. “Ok so it is going to strip me and somehow upgrade my body structure whatever that means. At least it says my face is cute enough.” My thoughts are soon turned to a tugging sensation near my neck. Looking back, I see some sort of metal appendage holding onto the neckline of my tank top, and with barely any movement it rips it off. Cold air hits my stomach and shoulders as another one comes and does the same to my leggings, shoes and underwear. Soon, I am left standing completely naked and shivering inside of the machine. As I held my shoulders to try and keep any warmth in my body, I was blinded by a bright light that shone in front of me. When my eyes finally adjusted, I could see the rest of the factory, I had passed through the first machine and was now on the second portion of the moving belt with about five other dolls. Each other them was stiff with their arms at their sides and legs at about shoulder width for stability, while I was still shivering and trying to cover my exposed body. Looking down, I realized I was now to far up for an escape plan to work, I was going to have to either get help or work my way out of here after I was through all of the work stations. I was ready to just keep shivering until I reached the next station about 15 feet ahead of me, but I heard another noise and looked down to see a small group of people being led into the room by the lady from the front desk. “As you can see, all of our dolls are made in house by our custom doll making software and machinery. If you look up, you can see some of our freshly minted and approved dolls headed towards the molder that will form their shape into their final forms,” the woman spoke quickly and professionally… almost as if she were a robot more than a receptionist. It then clicked in my mind that the wandering eyes of that tour groups will soon be pointed at my shivering, naked body. Not wanting to be caught by the receptionist or those visitors, I ignored the cold and adopted the same position as the dolls ahead and now behind me as I moved slowly forward. Just to be safe I also tried to stare straight ahead and smile lightly as to avoid any chance of being differentiated from the other models moving with me. Their eyes hovered over each of us as I moved along with the others towards relative safety in the next machine. I glimpsed over and saw a young man staring at me directly before looking away and walking towards the next stop with the group. I sighed in relief but before I could relax my stance at all another shadow loomed overhead and cold metal clamped around my entire body, barring my head. Looking down, a metal mold was completely engulfing my body and dragging me towards a stand in the middle of the chamber. “Latex formula application beginning. Body modification underway.” The same woman’s voice rang out as the frame holding me locked into the stand and a warm liquid started filling the hollow portion that housed my body. “OH… NO I AM NOT A DOLL!” I yell as the liquid latex pools around my naked form and begins to harden slowly. The warm feeling slowly fades and a numb yet comfortable one replaces it. Looking down I see my skin is now covered by a thick layer of latex that has manipulated my body into a much more voluptuous form. My modest C-Cup breasts are now probably at least double Ds, if nor E cups. My torso forms a perfect hourglass figure and my hips appear much wider than they were before the mold captured me. Beyond that I could barely tell what happened to me because it was much harder to move my body due to the thick layer of hardened latex. I was so focused on trying to get a good look at the rest of my body I didn’t notice a second mold lowering from the ceiling. A hissing noise made my head jerk up to search for the noise. As I raised back up the back of my head rammed directly into a something that was padded and snugly fit with a comfortable grip around that portion of my head. I was about to question what was holding onto me before a matching piece of metal lowered and snapped shut over the front of my head, completely covering my face. Struggling was getting me nowhere as my lower body stiffly moved and my head was held in place. I knew what was coming as a familiar liquid began filling the helmet holding me in place. It began covering my face and I held my breath as it overtook my mouth and nose. To my surprise something blocked it from covering my eyes and two cold, hard, yet clear objects were pressed against them that keep me from closing my eyelids. A large tube snaked through the wamr latex and shoved itself down through my mouth and into my throat, allowing me to breathe again and clear my nostrils. After a few moments and more heat being applied to my head, the mold and the tube retracted and left me alone in the chamber. I slowly moved my hands up to my face and ran a hand over my now latex lips. They were very sensitive and I could tell they were plumper and probably looked much more kissable. They also took effort to keep closed, as like the standard dolls made by this company, my lips now remained slightly parted for easy access. Now I was panicking slightly more in my head as I was carried back out into the blinding light of the factory. My new doll body was now complete and I knew that now I was going to be prepped for shipping to either an online buyer or towards one of the specialty shops that stocked the dolls in their inventory. “I AM NOT A DOLL DAMNIT!” I tried to yell, but due to my rubbery lips muffling some of that yell it came out more of a whisper. I kept trying but to no avail as I dropped from my standing position on the conveyor into the waiting chute for the packaging machine. I fell against cold metal until a pad broke my fall. In less than three seconds upon my landing I felt something hard impact my mid back and I knew I now had a serial code and the company’s logo and information imprinted on my second skin. Truly my chance of freedom was gone the next second when I was sliding forward into an open box that I had fantasized about on many previous trips here. A simple pink and blue box labeled ‘Deluxe Dolly’ swallowed me whole and I felt ties wrap around my wrists, waist, thighs, feet and neck to hold me against the frame in the box. The top sealed shut, leaving me able to only look forward out of the plastic that showed my naked body off to any who wanted to see it. My prison slid forward once more and I saw to rows of other boxed dolls headed towards two different areas of the shipping department. On the left were a pair of trucks loading dolls into their trunks to be delivered to stores across the country. The right was more of a storage closet that had scanners putting specific dolls into a waiting list to be sold online via Amazon and kinky stores. “I am so fucked… figuratively and literally…” I say as I stare at the split coming up… awaiting the random decision that could change my life forever.

When Stephanie says that her most intimate fantasy is to be milked like a cow, a way is found to make her fantasy come true. And now I was definitely wondering why I’d agreed to take part in a game of ‘Truth or Dare’ just over a week ago! Certainly if I’d known that Jo was from a farming family I wouldn’t have admitted to that fantasy, but now seemingly it was too late to go back on it, the one consolation I guessed, was that it might be fun to make that fantasy become reality………I hope! ...

After winning some tickets online, you were on a tour, with a couple of other people, going around a huge chocolate factory that was fully automated, even the robot tour guide that was now leading you past a large glass window looking down on the factory floor and you can see all the conveyors and tanks and machines, it looked like something out of HOP and you also notice an unlocked door next to the window and this tour was far too boring. ...

Please note; this story is fantasy. As of this writing the means to make this fantasy safely come true do not yet exist. Until such safe measures do exist it is HIGHLY recommended that this stays a fantasy, as the situations described can cause anything from lifestyle complications to SEVERE DEATH. This is for Erotic Imagination only. This is a work of fiction; none of the companies or names listed within actually exist or bear attachment with anything in real life. This story takes place in America, and all measurements are SAE. This story is presented with the strict understanding that the reader is comfortable with adult themes. story continued from part one ...

Here’s a story told in the first person from the female’s point of view. - Julien I’m lying on a conveyor belt. I’m on my back, and I’m completely naked. I can’t move any part of my body - all I can do is stare at the ceiling. The conveyor belt is taking me somewhere. Sometimes I pass under a reflective surface and catch a glimpse of myself, staring into space with no expression, totally exposed. ...

“Happy 18th birthday baby.” “Oh Mom, it’s beautiful.” Jessie said. “My little girl is all grown up, blow the candles out Honey.” Dad said. Jessie closes her eyes and blows out the candles. Mom cuts the cake while Dad answers the front door. He returns with an official looking letter, his sad face speaks the words he can’t say. “Not today, it can’t come today.” Jessie said. “They can’t even respect a girls birthday anymore?” Mom said. ...

The tall, well muscled orc woman walked down the darkened street. She looked at the buildings around her, most of them were abandoned warehouses, boarded up windows, crumbling brick walls and rusty chain link fences. She hefted her staff and smirked, a darkened street wasn’t going to phase her. The orc was named Hidden Sun. She was on this run-down street in the city for a job. She was a mercenary and had been hired to break into one of these abandoned warehouses. Apparently a small robotics corporation had used one of them to test their machines before going under. There were rumors that their prototypes were still locked away, and Sun was there to find the blueprints. It sounded like it would be a simple job for her, an easy paycheck. She strolled up to the old warehouse, there was a haphazard fence with a small rusty lock holding the gate closed. She smashed the lock on the gate and strolled right on into the dark building. Dust filled the air, making her sneeze. She shook her head and grimaced, this place had been abandoned for a while. Tall dark shadows loomed on the floor, all of the machines she assumed. The darkness distorted the shape of the machines, they loomed over Sun, strange shapes disappearing into the distance. Well, Those didn’t matter, only the blueprints. There was a rickety staircase by the entrance, she couldn’t see up the top very well, but it looked to her like it connected to some catwalks that went to an office at the other end of the warehouse. She climbed up the stairs, chipped paint falling to the floor below as it shuddered under her weight. She climbed into the deeper darkness above and stepped off onto the catwalks. As she strolled across the catwalks they creaked and swayed. She frowned and growled, she didn’t like the unsteady footing but it was the only way to the office. She made it about half way across the precarious walkway before the metal groaned and then snapped! With only a second of warning the catwalk below Sun fell away, and Sun fell with it. She landed hard on her back down below. Her staff clattered away from her grasp and the air was knocked from her lungs. She groaned and tried to move but she was still dazed. There was a humming in her ears and her eyes were unfocused and blurry. Suddenly she was blinded by the lights in the warehouse flickering on around her. She groaned again, still unable to move. She felt something rumbling below her, gears grinding to life again, pistons starting to pump and electric motors humming to life. Before she knew it she was moving. She had landed on a conveyor belt. She was still dazed from the hard fall, her body armor suddenly felt heavy, her chest heaved as she struggled to get air into her lungs, she hoped nothing had been broken. She was about to have much more to worry about though, the conveyor passed into a narrow opening, the tall, broad, muscular orc woman barely fit! Once she was inside a red light passed over her, scanning her she assumed. After the light faded four chunky metal clamps popped out of the side of the cramped metal box and fastened themselves around her wrists and ankles. The cuffs were attached to a track that lifted the helpless orc out of the box and elsewhere into the warehouse. As she was carried through the air She was able to look around a bit more, her head had started to clear. The warehouse had come to life, all those dark looming shapes from before had been revealed. The prototype robots and machines had whirred to life. For such advanced technology it all looked like something imagined from the early 20th century. Pistons pumped, bellows huffed and puffed and gears and belts spun away, it looked like it was ripped straight from Loony Toons. Who’s demented mind came up with this stuff? No wonder the corp was forced into bankruptcy. The track Sun was attached spread eagle too suddenly dived back down into another narrow metal chute. She started to pull at the cuffs, thinking she would easily break out of the old things. She was surprised when nothing happened, the cuffs were thick and well built. She strained and strained, her muscles bulging as she struggled in their grasp, but it was no use, she was stuck tight. She gritted her teeth as the cuffs braked on the track and ground to a stop. She was suspended over a pit with a chute marked “Laundry.” Robotic arms folded out from a box beside her and started to manhandle the orc. They pulled her body armor off and dropped it down the chute, leaving Sun in her rather embarrassing underwear. The tall, strong, heavily scarred orc who prided herself on her independence and strength was wearing a diaper. The machines seemed a bit confused for a moment, they poked at the garment, hefting it and crinkling it, Suddenly they must have decided something. The arms ripped the diaper off of Sun and carried it away. The track bounced again and the naked orc was carried a little further along the track to an odd machine. The walls weren’t metal like the rest of the machines in the warehouse, they were clear. She could see hoses and nozzles all along the track she was being carried towards. She tried to struggle again, she was not looking forward to whatever would happen to her in there! But as always, the machine won, it pulled her to the first set of nozzles and Sun got blasted by a spray of water from all sides. The water was cold and the blasts were extremely high pressure. Sun roared as she was surprised by the water, it was scouring her from head to toe, blasting away at the dirt on her body. The cold blasts were not the end of it though, they were only the start. She was rattled along the track as various spinning brushes extended form the walls. The water at least was starting to warm up, and now it was a soapy mix. It was not aimed well though, Sun had to squeeze her eyes shut and close her mouth to stop from swallowing it. The brushes got to work. They were hard and bristly and relentless. They too scoured her from head to toe, the rough bristles invading every bit of Sun’s body. She felt they were trying to clean the skin right off of her. And then the brushes got to the most tender part of her body. She screamed, and then gargled as a blast of water filled her mouth. She had never been this humiliated in her life. Finally, after what felt like hours the scrubbing stopped. The deflated orc was carried out of the cleaning machine and dried with blasts of hot air. The track she was on clicked loudly, and the cuffs carried her deeper into the mess of machinery and to a simple, plain cushioned table. She was laid down flat, and then her legs were yanked into the air. Some more robotic arms popped out of the table, one of them holding a very large, very thick diaper, printed just like a baby diaper, but sized for her! The diaper was strapped tight around the humiliated orc’s waist. And with the change done the machine was almost finished with her. She was tugged back up into the air and carried to a row of cribs. She was set down in a crib, but was far too large, her arms and legs splayed over the sides. The machine thought for a bit and then started to push and pull at her arms and legs. Mechanical hands manhandling her into a little scrunched up ball before shoving her deep into the crib and locking the top over her. Satisfied she was finally in there the machine hummed to a stop. The lights dimmed and shut off with a click. The pistons stopped pumping, the gears stopped clanging. Everything went quiet and dark. ...

“If dad could see me right now….. he’d probably kill me.” Nervously, Chastity stepped out onto the catwalk overlooking the production floor. This had seemed like a great idea before, but now she wasn’t so sure. Still, she’d made it this far, so the rest should be easy. Slowly, but with growing confidence, she made her way along the catwalk. The whole thing had begun earlier in the day, when Chastity had dropped in to visit her father at work. He, however, had been less than pleased, namely because of her choice of clothing. She’d been wearing a light, short summer dress, its tight, thin material leaving no doubt that there was no bra beneath. Instead of a visit, she’d been on the receiving end of a lecture on propriety. ...

I am a simple man with a few credentials in my life. But the most important one is that I was born on the right place, which put me on the right side. The one that won the war, a war that split the world into two groups. Those of us who still walk the earth free, and those who are slaves, with virtually no rights. After the war was over I got a job as a guard at the first human milk factory that was created, shortly after. The pay wasn’t much, but it was an easy job and I had plenty of time to hang out during it. So I thought I would start a diary of my experiences at the factory. Below, are some of the entries. ...

Please note; this story is fantasy. As of this writing the means to make this fantasy safely come true do not yet exist. Until such safe measures do exist it is HIGHLY recommended that this stays a fantasy, as the situations described can cause anything from lifestyle complications to SEVERE DEATH. This is for Erotic Imagination only. This is a work of fiction; none of the companies or names listed within actually exist or bear attachment with anything in real life. This story takes place in America, and all measurements are SAE. ...

The headlights shined on the darkened walls of the complex as a black BMW sedan drove up. It quickly drove around to the back loading bay. A woman stepped out of the car. She was in her late thirties. Her face a combination of strength and beauty. She was wearing a long black coat and leather gloves, the same shade as her curly hair. She quickly looked around. This industrial part of town usually emptied out after 5 o’clock but just to be safe she chose the dead of night to arrive. Seeing that she was alone she walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk. She stared down at her cargo. A fit, red-headed girl in her early twenties, nude, blindfolded, her legs in irons and her hands cuffed behind her back. Her head darted around as she strained to hear her surroundings. This was Ruby ...

story continued from part one Part 2a: The Nice Conclusion The truck’s engine then shut off and a second later I heard the driver’s door slam, telling me the driver was getting out. Would he discover me trapped and spooled up as I was, or just get what he wanted and leave while I hid? I assumed Ms. Becket was doing much the same, but her absence left me feeling abandoned and vulnerable. ...

story continued from part 2b: The Not So Nice short conclusion Part 2c: Beckett Automation This is the rest of the dark conclusion to The Johnson Rope Factory that I hadstarted some time ago, you are forewarned as it might not be to everybody’s liking. Constructive comments always welcome, especially with regard to the nature of the ending. …I found myself (and my spool) on that truck deck and strapped down for shipping while pondering the irony of my fate, my lust for kinky games in combination with a desire for a new and dominate playmate perhaps my final undoing. I had a foreboding feeling that one day my precious machines could play a part in sealing my fate, but not like this… ...

It was the simplest of factories making the simplest of things, low grade rope for clotheslines, and I the saleswoman partially responsible for the resurgence of our industry… What had been a dying market was making a comeback with people wanting to be clean and green, it being once again fashionable to hang ones clothes out to dry on the line, weather permitting. We had contracted out for some provocative commercials to be shown in the tree hugger’s demographic, and the response was overwhelming. A woman every man would like to come home to hanging her things to dry on one of our lines, some quite sexy and promising fun for the lucky man once he purchased and hung it. ...

“Damn, this job is boring!” Patty spoke out loud, although there was no one who could hear her. The only other sound was her footsteps as she walked through the dimly lit industrial building. She was walking her rounds in her little uniform. The patch on the arm said “Orion Security”. Her job was to make sure the electronics factory was secure at night. So every night she arrived at 10:00 PM and walked around the building until 6:00 AM the next morning. ...

Walter was a technician at a factory making aviation engine’s parts, the factory was highly automated with high-end equipment letting it have lower production costs. This enabled it to have several contracts with major engine manufacturers including Rolls-Royce, Pratt & Whitney and GE. This afternoon Walter, a 5 feet 9 inch, 172 pounds guy with short brown hair had on his agenda to look at a piece of machinery that was causing delays due to some sort fo malfunction. The factory was already working 6 days a week so any delay was quite hard to get back and airlines were waiting to get their new planes. So it was imperative that it got fixed ASAP. ...

His footsteps echo in the empty hall, as Lucas patrols the plant this Friday night as he has done every night for the past week. It’s his first job, his first week on his first job. Being a night watchman is not particularly exciting and not at all what the teenager had in mind as a child. But then again, it’s easy and, more importantly, he needs the money, so has nothing to complain about. His mind wanders to the Golf GTi he has set his mind on … if he saves a good chunk of his pay, he could have enough for a down payment in a couple of months. ...

Hello, I am Melodie, I am working for a consulting firm. I used to be an engineer for manufacturing companies in the past but with my luck, I was packed and shipped twice as finish product (see curtainfactory and bottlingproblems). That is not counting the time I was washed while working as a maid to pay my tuition fee (see washed). I now work in an office designing fabrication line. It is more 9 to 5 routine than before but the pay is better and most importantly, it is a lot safer, what could go wrong in an office? Installation was supervised by a field engineer. ...

This morning started like it would be a wonderful spring day. The sun was warm, not a single cloud in the sky, birds singing and the smell of nature growing again. As I entered the building, I had no idea how bad it would turn. I started by reading my email and some websites about technology news before removing my high heels and putting on my safety shoes. I am an engineer. Not an easy job in manufacturing as there is a lot of sexism. Every guy on the floor who doesn’t know me tries to tease me or worst harass me. I quickly shut them off except for a few of them and those really don’t like it when I get to them. It is the only way to get respected in that almost exclusively male environment when you measure only 5 feet 2 inches. ...

Three weeks ago, a new machine was put in operation. It is a machine that can make curtains and drapery to order. Tissue is selected from 1 of 24 rolls and 6 different types of lace can be sewed on them. Since the installation, we had problems with it, once in a while, the lace is not sewed in the proper location and customer complains. Twice the line had been stopped for a full evening as maintenance searched for the problem. Every sensor, every motor, every actuator, every wire connections were checked but nothing was found. ...

Bunny was one of four friends that searched and explored old abandon buildings in and around the city of Oxford. Bunny was a lively and loud character with her long purple hair dropping over her beautiful face. Her large breasts popped out of her chest so did her perfect ass. She was just under 6ft and had a slim and trimmed body. Bunny was dressed in a rock and roll style with black leggings and a leather jacket. She was also wearing white converse shoes and white Animal T-shirt. Bunny was one hell of a good looking girl. ...

(story continues from A Special Gift 2: The Good Purpose) Part 3: Mandy becomes Amy’s Doll “Doll Factory” Mandy read in big letters above the entrance of the building and further down she read “Creation of unique and realistic Dolls for all sorts of usage” “What a crazy idea.” Mandy told herself, “I’ve ordered this Doll by phone now I have to come here in person. Why could they not simply create one with my specifications?” For one reason Mandy was curious. It would be her first time in a factory and she wanted to see the well shaped men at work. Although she was a lezzie, she wanted to tease them a little, so she wore a tight tank top that left her flat belly free. She also wore very short pants and a pair of ankle high heels. For sure she thought, that look would drive them crazy. Enthusiastic she went to the front door that lead to the office. It didn’t need much strength to push it open. Inside she saw a usual counter, where she expected a secretary. But at the moment it was empty. There was a small bell on the counter. Mandy went towards it and looked sceptically down. “Whats that?” She asked, “Am I in a Hotel? Okay, okay. Then let’s ring the bell.” She hadn’t to wait for long after she’d rang the bell. A woman dressed in an expensive business dress came out of one of the doors in background. She smiled at Mandy and waved at her. “Hello. How may I help you?” The woman asked. “Are you the secretary?” Mandy spurted out, “Why the heck weren’t you at your place?” “Oh! I’m sorry. I’m not the secretary. This factory is my own and I do almost all chores by myself.” The woman explained, “A secretary is expensive and you don’t know if one of those can keep internal secrets, you know?” “Oh. I see. Then I’m sorry about that statement.” Mandy excused herself, “Then you’re the woman I had the phone call with?” “Why don’t we go into my office?” The woman suggested, “There I have all my documents and we can talk about your wishes discretely.” “Sure. Why not?” Mandy replied “Is there a chance to see how your Dolls get manufactured later? I would like to see the man at work.” “Uhm, sure.” The woman replied shortly “But for now, follow me please.” ...

Samantha looked down at her map again, printed on a basic leaflet was the advertisement for a new dating service. She’d had boyfriends before but most had lasted merely weeks. Her only long term relationship had been with Mark, the sex was good but he’d started to talk about some pretty strange fetish with bondage. When he started talking about tying her up she’d decided it was too much for her. Since then her heart just wasn’t in it when the guys at the club were all over her. The dating services leaflet had been a glimmer of hope that she could finally swap her toys for the real thing once more. ...

Samantha looked down at her map again, printed on a basic leaflet was the advertisement for a new dating service. She’d had boyfriends before but most had lasted merely weeks. Her only long term relationship had been with Mark, the sex was good but he’d started to talk about some pretty strange fetish with bondage. When he started talking about tying her up she’d decided it was too much for her. Since then her heart just wasn’t in it when the guys at the club were all over her. The dating services leaflet had been a glimmer of hope that she could finally swap her toys for the real thing once more. ...

“What have we got, Roscoe?” “Mostly nice. Five million, six hun-” “Cut to the chase, elf!” “Yes, Sir, Santa, er, Sir. We’ve got six in Brazil.” “Really?” “Yep.” “How convenient.” “Yes, Sir. Two prostitutes, a secretary, a dental hygienist, and two divorcees.” “Okay, nobody will miss the whores or the divorced girls. Oh, wait, kids?” “No, Santa.” “Good. What about the other two?” “Secretary is a temp. No one will miss her. As for the dentist, well, let’s just say he’s not a real dentist. People get their teeth cleaned, but it’s just a cover. They’re there for other, er, medicinal reasons. If you catch my drift.” ...

Kas smeared adhesive on the rubber flange. Teri opened her mouth and took the monstrous nipple inside. She bit down on the stem and Kas pressed the flange to her lips, sealing it in place. She drew the ends of the pink ribbon behind Teri’s head and tied them. Kas stepped back, surveyed the girls. The four pledges were dressed in identical white baby doll nighties. The nighties weren’t sheer, but they were short, short enough to see the diapers. They wore pink mittens and pink booties, likewise secured with pink ribbons. They had matching, pink pacifiers glued to their lips. And they were connected by three sets of pink, fuzzy handcuffs. ...

Mei spooned the last of the eggs into her mouth and took a sip of coffee. She refilled her cup, sat on the bed, and surveyed her world. The apartment was small, only one room with a tiny enclosure in the corner for the toilet and shower. She used the kitchen sink for everything. It wasn’t much, but it was cheap and it allowed her to send money home to her parents. ...

Another Saturday night… another fetish party. Sheila and I were there, dressed to thrill as per normal. She in black latex catsuit w/opera length latex gloves, corseted VERY tightly (14”), tight latex hood… a pair of black thigh high 6” stiletto boots completed the ensemble. She looked magnificent. I was in a black catsuit w/latex gloves, a tight mask that had a mouth opening in an “O” shape and pin hole eyes. Conversations were virtually impossible in that mask due to the fact that the open mouth had a closed tube filling it. ...

My life has been full of ups and downs and at the moment I am enduring a down turn in my fortunes, but despite everything I have always had my interest in latex and bondage to see me through! Latex for those that do not know it is normally a liquid that sets, but also can remain flexible. Garments of any kind can be made from it ranging from Batman’s capes and body armour, to a simple, tastefully cut skirt or a Mack to protect against the elements. ...

Julie would never have gotten caught if she had thought about the system backups. And I never would have done anything about it if she hadn’t lied to me about messing with my machine. I work for Julie’s father, or I should say I am a one-fourth partner with her father in a candle factory. We specialize in “hand dipped” candles. Actually it is only the outer two or three layers of colored wax that are hand dipped. The rest is done by a machine which I invented. We supply these “hand dipped cores” to a wide variety of small candle companies throughout the United States and Canada. ...

The plant was dark and silent. Jamie frowned as she made her way through the production area. As production manager, she always made it a point to go through after the plant’s single shift had left for the day, making sure all the equipment was properly shut down. Not that there was much to check. The plant was a small operation, making custom stands and hangers. Thus, the only real equipment consisted of saws and drills, benders and shapers. And the wrapper. ...

It was a dark and cold night when my cousin Nancy called me and told me to meet her at the new factory downtown for one of her little investigations. Ever since we were kids Nancy always had the tendency to drag me into her weird troublesome adventures and I knew tonight would be no different. So around eleven I arrived in my bathrobe as she suggested and was huddling for warmth as it felt like my long red hair was slowly turning into an overgrown icicle. It wasn’t long until I saw the naked form of my beautiful cousin waving to me from the other side of the fence. With a sigh I dropped my robe in the bushes where I was hiding revealing my rather large bust and shapely body to the full extent of the cold. With my teeth chattering I sprinted into the factory to try and warm up as soon as possible. I entered the dimly lit factory and started walking around very cautiously while searching for Nancy. It wasn’t until I heard the cry of “Hey Sammy, up here!” that I looked up to see her hanging from a mechanical arm and swinging back and forth. I just rolled my eyes and laughed at her for being her normal fun loving self. ...

Woman to Maid-bot TF My name is Mari Chambers, a 21 year old college grad who is in bad need of some cash. I am 5’5 and my body is fairly impressive, with C-Cup breasts, nice curves and a plump butt I have been complemented quite a bit. I had been searching online for weeks trying to find a job that paid well, but the only openings I found were in fast food or retail. That is until today. When I got up this morning I once again began my search, this time however I was intrigued by one offer. A business man in San Francisco was looking to pay someone for the use of their android as long as they could act as a maid for the family. As soon as I saw the android part I deflated but I kept reading anyways. When I saw the pay for the job my jaw dropped and I knew I had to have the position, but I didn’t have an android nor could I afford to buy even the older models. How was I going to swing this? I began researching the models of androids and how they worked, the prices were way outside my price range but I did discover something that was a little crazy. During my research I stumbled into a forum that featured many stories of women, like myself, being turned into robots or androids. I spent the entire rest of that day reading these stories and piecing together an idea that should have been considered impossible. The more I read the more I began placing myself into these scenarios and then the end result would be me making bank working for that business man in San Fran. I didn’t sleep at all the next day as I came to my conclusion and began enacting my plan. First I picked up my phone and dialed the number on the ad. It rang a few times before a click and a deep masculine voice answered. “Hello, George Fournier speaking.” He said. He was the owner of a famous factory that made all different kind of steel products that were shipped all over the world. He was a multi-millionaire and I was looking forward to this. “Hello Mr. Fournier my name is Mari Chambers and I am calling about the android rental job.” I said as calm but chipper as possible. “OH! That is great Mari! Did you fill out all of the forms already? I would love to get his deal done ASAP!” the business guru sounded very happy now and it was contagious as I smiled widely in response. “I did indeed sir. All I need is for you to send the shipping information and I can complete the deal” I said fingering my mouse over the send button with all of the documents in an email. “Great! I will read over your information and then send you the form for shipping the bot, everything else will be taken care of! Thanks again!” he said before hanging up the phone. I kept grinning as I hit the send button and then leaned back, waiting for the form that I needed to fill out for shipping the just created android, myself, from Oregon to California. I heard the jingle and opened up the email to view the form. I was a little surprised to see the form was from the leading manufacturer of androids in the United States. I clicked the link and it brought me to a page that had around 20 boxes that needed to be filled out. The first few were just basic information like address and the like but I had to start researching the later information. The 8th question was about the type of android being sent in and I already prepared the answer, although it was embarrassing referring to myself in the way I was having to. I filled out the card saying that I was a newer model sex bot that was reprogrammed to not only do things in that category but also help with all household needs. I filled out the remaining basic information until I got to the last few boxes. They were in order asking if I wanted the bot to be reprogrammed, dressed, cleaned or redesigned. The dressed and cleaned options were greyed out with checks in the saying off to the side that it was mandatory for bots going out to other jobs so I just huffed and left the other two blank. The final box was what time I wanted my bot to be picked up, I promptly selected midnight tonight so no one would be asking questions. After I filled it out the form was submitted and it told me what to do in order to have a proper pick up. It was very direct, please place designated android outside of the address free from any clothing or accessories and in sleep mode. Our professional delivery trucks will come by and take it to the nearest factory to be prepared. All of this sounded scary and yet I was getting excited the more I thought about it, so I set about cleaning my home and throwing away all of my perishable items before watching movies into the late evening. As 12 approaches I grinned madly as I stripped myself and walked outside, I had a key outside of my home and I had let my family and friends know I was going out of town for who knows how long to sight see for a while with no contact available. It was 11:45 as I stood rigid on my front porch waiting for a truck to come by and pick up this lonely android. At what I assumed was a little past twelve a large truck backed into my drive way and slide open the back door allowing me to see a bigger man step out. I hastily shut my eyes and activated “sleep” mode. ...

Well the bank Holiday was over, back to work you go. You’re part of the maintenance team tasked with restarting a huge laundry factory. The factory washes all the linen for all the hotels in the state. And as a result constantly needed maintenance every bank oliday. You are one of very few people that worked here. The factory was practically fully automatic besides maintenance and delivering and shipping the laundry. You and your colleagues were just finishing up in the control booth. A tall man named Steven was working away at one of the control panels. “Ok just need to wait another 3 minutes and everything should be back up and running.” said Steven. “Do me a favour and go put the kettle on ready for our break.” he called to you. You did as he asked, also wanting a cup of tea at breaktime. As you’re walking along the catwalk out of the booth, you don’t notice that the cleaner had spilt some soapy water on the catwalk right where it bared left around a corner. ‘Click clack click clack slip ooofff’ As you walked along you went to round the corner and slipped over, sliding on your backside. Straight underneath the handrail and landing in one of the hoppers where the laundry is dumped in off the trucks. Luckily for you the hopper was partly full of linen already. However the reason for it being partly full was because a truck had just pulled in and was now dumping its load straight into the hopper. And you are now buried under the dirty covers and blankets. Meanwhile in the control room, “Righty ho last 10 seconds and we’re good to go!” 10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… “ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE” Suddenly you feel yourself jerked forward, the hopper is moving along a track over to the specific wash area. As you fumble around trying to dig yourself out of the linen, you only manage dig yourself to the bottom of the pile, whilst also getting yourself more tangled up. As the hopper rolls up above one of the many automated sorting systems, you hear a loud clang as it’s held in place by magnets. Suddenly the bottom of the hopper drops out from underneath you, as you and the laundry tumble onto a large wide conveyor belt, as it begins to move forward. As soon as the laundry hit the belt, multiple robotic arms were whizzing over them, sorting all the laundry into various smaller shoots. As one of the arms grabs your legs, lifting you up more quickly to pull off the laundry you’re tangled in, but then they also pull off all of your clothes, throwing them down different shoots. Once you had been stripped naked. you are dropped head first down a shoot labeled “single bed sheets” You land head first into a giant bubbling vat of laundry detergent and other bed sheets. As you pop up for a gasp of air, you see that it isn’t just the vat you’ve got to worry about. Now being lowered into the vat, was what could only be described as a giant wash board. Not only that but it had two drum brushes just as big. They looked like they belonged in a car wash let alone a laundry. Now more arms dropped down into the water, fishing out piece after piece of laundry dropping them on the wobbly wash board, as they were rubbed and brushed into a soapy pile. Suddenly one of the arms plucks you out, dropping you down onto the wash board right as the drum brushes were on the way up. You are caughtt between them, bumpy aluminium on your back and drum brushes on your front, as they went from the bottom of your feet to the top of your head, making sure to scrub everything in between. After being scrubbed all over by the brushes, you are dropped onto another conveyor, and pulled forward under a small camera above the conveyor. Up ahead you can see an arm grabbing random bits of laundry and dropping them onto tables of to the sides of the belt. But oddly enough the arm was only grabbing certain ones. Then one of the sheets in front of you was grabbed and you could see it had a big splash of red wine staining the front of it. Then the arm reaches down grabbing you by the arm and dropping you front side up on the table. No sooner than you were on the table, a shower head above you dropped down just above your neather regions - Squirt! Splat! The shower head had just sprayed your neathers with a huge dollop of stain remover. Now it popped back up to the ceiling and a large rotary brush popped up from the side, spun up to speed and quickly began scrubbing your neathers with its soft nylon bristles. The brush continued to scrub away at your niethers, bring you closer and closer to the edge, the stain remover now becoming a thick bubbly froth. But just as you’re about to cum, the brush lifts up and disappears back where it came from. The shower head drops back down rinsing you off with a bit of water. Mostly to get rid of the frothing bubbles, now your dropped back onto the belt. You’re whisked forward and dropped into another vat, this time filled with water wit a large agitator in the middle. It sloshes you and the other sheets around rinsing you off, before you see a big barrel is dumped over the side of the vat into the water, you see it’s dumping fabric softener into the vat with you. The agitator making light work mixing the softener furiously into the vat. As your sloshed around for another few minutes, before more arm’s reach in and fish you out along with the rest of the laundry as they drop you onto another belt. The belt now ran through a drying chamber where you’re blown from all angles by giant heated fans. By the time you reached the end you were bone dry and your hair was a complete mess. The conveyor continued for a bit longer before more arms reached down and placed the laundry into a large clam shell press. But this wasn’t no ordinary press, this one was designed to both iron out any wrinkles and to also seal the pressed laundry into a plastic bag ready for shipping. As you are picked up and spread out on the clamshell, you’re quickly squeezed between the two parts as you are sprayed with steam. ...

Ashley was surprised that she even got the job at Greenland Milking. Fresh out of college she had no experience however the company was eager to hire the young Manufacturing Engineer. It also helped that her husband had already been working for the company for a few years. She had met him during her freshman year of college, and his senior year. They had fallen helplessly in love and married before she even finished college. It only seemed logical for the company to hire the pair as they worked well together. ...

story continued from part two Part 3a: Back to the Factory - the nicer ending The original darker ending for this story part 3a: Back to the Factory - the darker ending Morning came and the usual routine started as Stacy awoke, got dressed and received orders to report to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for several of the guests. Stacy whizzed though her assigned tasks and was directed by the system to carry a tray upstairs to one of the rooms. Upon knocking and allowed entry, she found her sister Liz still in bed with Louise; they were kissing each other as she walked in the room, Liz hoping to embarrass her with what she was doing.

Lindsey Stirling had just joined a very active environmental activist group, and as part of her initiation, they had her investigating the local abandoned motorcycle factory in her hometown. As she walks up to it, she realizes she’s a bit nervous despite her fame she realizes what she is doing is considered trespassing at best and worst industrial sabotage; her fame might not be able to save her if she is caught. As Lindsey looks around quickly, she breaks out the window on the front door and grabs the knob on the other side. Before she can pull her hand off, she feels a strong surge of electricity pass through her knocking her out. ...

intruder It was a warm, sunny afternoon, you had just finished work and you began walking home. As you walk past a large factory that cleaned robots, you notice something suspicious, the lights were on and you could hear machinery rumbling inside, but the factory was supposed to be closed 2 hours ago. Being the heroic type, and also seeing a possible hefty reward for catching a burgular, you crawl under the large wire fence and climb up to an open window. Looking inside, there was robots every where, you lean through the window but suddenly you slipped, falling in to a puddle of mud, “argh great just what I needed!” ...

Part 1: The Special Order Sylvia was excited for the first time in almost six months. She has been unemployed for that whole time, but it really wasn’t her fault. She was working as a secretary for a stock broker for two years, and she loved doing it, but the man took early retirement and she was transferred to a senior vice president for the company. He was married and in his mid-fifties, and a complete pig. From the first day she started, he was making advances toward her. She had to keep telling him no in a very polite manner, but he persisted nonetheless. As the days went by, he began making lewder and more crude comments, going so far as to offering her a raise for a blowjob on a regular basis. Besides the fact that she believes blowjobs are degrading to women and refuses to do them for any of the boyfriends she’s had in the past, there’s no way she was going to be treated as a whore. After three weeks of putting up with his advances, she quit and got a lawyer the next day. It’s the $15 million dollar lawsuit that is pending against the pig is what’s preventing her from getting another job. This leads her to today. She had placed her resume all over the internet, on every job searching website, and any place else that would take it. Finally, she received a phone call yesterday afternoon from an Abigail Gillen, owner of the Exclusive Products Company, a factory that made custom dolls and mannequins. Ms. Gillen asked her if she would like to come in for an interview as a customer service representative and personal assistant. Sylvia didn’t hesitate and jumped at the offer! She was told to be at the offices the next morning at 9 AM, and not to bring any cell phones or recording equipment. The explanation was that all of Exclusive Products items and manufacturing processes were proprietary, and there would be no interview if she even had one of them with her. The directions to the offices weren’t that hard to follow. It was a simple but long bus ride to the end of the line at an industrial complex, then a 20 minute walk to the correct building. She didn’t mind the travel, or the walk, because it was such a beautiful day. Besides, the exercise will be her reason not to go to the gym tomorrow. She did miscalculate the travel time however and still arrived almost 30 minutes early. The building looked about 30 years old, and had what looked like four floors. There were no windows anywhere to be seen with the exception of the glass front double doors, and even those were heavily tinted. She strained her eyes trying to look through the tint, but she couldn‘t make out anything inside. ‘Exclusive Products Co.’ was written in white block letters on the left door. The parking lot was rather small, with about 15 spaces available plus one that was reserved for the owner. A sign to the right of the doors read ‘Deliveries & Pickups’ with an arrow pointing around the right side of the building. She didn’t have to wait long though. About 10 minutes later, an older model Mercedes in near sale floor condition rolled up and parked in the ‘Reserved For Ms. Gillen’ spot by the door where she was standing. The engine stopped, and out climbed an attractive slender woman who looked in her mid-forties. She stood around five foot eight inches, had shapely hips, thin waist, and about a 34DD breast size. She was wearing a blue business suit, white blouse, and shoes with low heels. Her light brown hair was wrapped up in a bun on the top of her head. She reached into the back seat and pulled out a briefcase. She hit the fob alarm for her car then turned to Sylvia. Sylvia was thinking that her own looks might intimidate this older woman, for she was five foot six inches tall, long natural blonde hair, 38DD breast size, a soft but athletic build, flawless skin, and was wearing 4 inch heels to accentuate her build, but that made her appear taller. She really needed this job, and she decided to be as humble as possible, as well as some very minor self degrading for effect. She also quickly turned away and tried to button her own blouse all the way up to cover her cleavage. “Hello!,” Ms. Gillen said warmly as Sylvia turned back around to face her. She extended her hand in friendship and asked, “I’m guessing you’re Sylvia Farrel, am I correct?” “Um, yes, hi!,” Sylvia meekly replied, “I hope you don’t mind that I’m early do you? I like to be at all of my appointments a little early.” She reached out and took the other woman’s hand and weakly shook it. It gave the appearance that she was nervous, although she wasn’t in the least. Another ‘humble’ tactic. “No, not at all. I don’t see another car here. Did you get a ride?,” Ms. Gillen asked, as she simultaneously looked around the parking lot while she walked towards the front doors with the key extended. Sylvia turned to follow her and replied, “I took the bus. I had to sell my car a month ago to pay the rent on my apartment, and I didn’t have enough time to set up a ride for today.” “I’m sorry to hear that, dear,” Ms. Gillen said as she unlocked the right door. “Hopefully we can remedy that in short order.” She opened the door only wide enough for herself to squeeze through. “Would you mind waiting out here for a minute, Ms. Farrel, while I turn off the alarm?” “Sure. Like I said, I’m the one who’s here early.” Ms. Gillen smiled then slipped pass the door, quickly closed and locked it behind herself. It took five minutes for her to return and let Sylvia in. “My apologies, Ms. Farrel” Ms. Gillen said as she let Sylvia in. “The sensor on the factory floor keeps going bonkers, and it makes it difficult to disarm the alarm. The alarm company is supposed to be here on Monday to fix it.” “That’s okay, and please call me Sylvie.” Another tactic. Allowing a supervisor to call you by your childhood nickname gives them a false sense of authority. “All right, Sylvie it is! Please, call me Abigail,” Ms. Gillen replied. She held the glass door open wide so Sylvia could enter. She did a quick-step past her soon to be boss before she could change her mind. Beyond the door was a small white painted waiting room with four chairs and a coffee table. The carpet was dark black and was wall to wall. On the opposite side of the room was another door made of metal with a heavy deadbolt lock on it. Next to that door was a buzzer on the wall with a sign reading ‘Ring For Assistance.’ There was a clipboard with some papers attached to it and a pen sitting on the coffee table. “Now, Sylvie,” Abigail said as she locked the front door and walked around Sylvia, “I’m going to have you sign these confidentiality papers and liability forms. This is both a warehouse and a factory, so I need temporary medical coverage in case anything should happen to you here today during the interview. Also, there’s the agreement that you will not divulge anything you see here today to any outside party. Strictly legal documents to protect my company. Also, I’ll need you to empty out your purse and all of your pockets onto the table.” “Why?” “To see if you have any cell phones or cameras on you.” “Oh, yeah, right. You did say that.” Sylvia proceeded to empty her purse. None of her clothes had any pockets. She picked up the clip board and filled them all out as Abigail searched her belongings. She handed over the clipboard with the completed forms and started to refill her purse. “One moment, please,” Abigail said in an authoritative tone. “I need to frisk you.” “Excuse me?” Sylvia looked at her with surprise. “Part of the confidentiality agreement you just signed. I need to check to see if you have any hidden cameras or microphones on you. Please lift your arms out parallel and spread your legs.” With a puzzled look on her face, Sylvia slowly did what she was told. She understood what the older woman meant, but why didn’t she just use a metal detector? It could only mean one of two things: Either their current metal detector is not working or this lady is a lesbian. Either way, she needed a job, any job, no matter how humiliating the interview is, and that this isn’t done on a regular basis. Abigail swiftly touched every inch of Sylvia’s body through her clothes, including her groin, butt crack and breasts. She used a gentle but firm hand, and didn’t seem to enjoy doing it at all. While down around her ankles, she asked Sylvia to step out of her shoes so she could inspect them as well. She didn’t stop at any particular body part for too long, and was complete in under a minute. “Thank you, Sylvie,” Abigail said as she stood back up. She took her keys out of her pocket and headed towards the metal door across the room. “Once you get your things together, we’ll go to my office.” Sylvia eagerly scooped all of her things back into her purse without any order. She headed over to where Abigail was, and, as she unlocked the door and held it open, the young blonde walked in with a spring in her step and smile on her face. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind both of them. ********* The two women walked down a short but wide hallway that had two single doors on the left side and one set of plastic swinging doors at the other end. The hallway was also white with black carpet. A light humming noise could be heard coming from the fluorescent lights. Abigail led Sylvia to the first door on the left. “In here, please,” she asked as she opened the door to let Sylvia in. The room was roughly 12 feet wide and 15 feet long. There was a desk with a computer monitor on the far wall. A large backed chair sat behind it and two upholstered chairs in front of it. The wall across from the door had a row of filing cabinets. In the middle of the room was a small wooden table with four matching chairs. A couple of binders were on the table, all labeled ‘Product Line’ with various years on them. All around the rooms were plastic floor plants, and on the walls hung framed prints of kittens. “Have a seat,” Abigail motioned to one of the upholstered chairs. Sylvia took to the chair in rapid fashion, trying to exude eagerness. She sat upright with her knees together and her purse on her lap across her legs, trying to hide her breasts and hips. She tried to keep a smile on her face that wasn’t over the top but not looking forced. Abigail went around the desk and sat down. She opened up a folder and started skimming the papers inside. Peeking up, Sylvia noticed that it was a copy of her resume that she uploaded on one of the job sites. Abigail picked up a pen and jotted down some notes on the various pages as she went along. After a few minutes, she looked up at Sylvia. “Why did you leave your last job?” “Oh, boy,” Sylvia replied as the smile disappeared from her face. “I’m going to tell you the truth. My previous employer kept making unwanted sexual advances at me. He wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer.” “Oh, My!” “When he demanded oral sex from me, I left and hired a lawyer.” “Really?!?” “Yes. And a good thing too. The lawyer found another secretary that he did the same thing to, and if we can get her to testify, we’ll have an open and shut case. The thing is, until the lawsuit is settled, I have no income to live on.” “I’m sorry to hear that, Sylvie,” Abigail said with a sigh as she slumped back in her chair with disgust. “Between you and me, I hope you nail his tush to the wall.” She flashed the younger woman a devilish smile. Sylvia gave a light chuckle “I will!” “Well, your resume looks great. You have everything I’m looking for as a personal assistant. You have a pleasantly lilting voice, so that will be an advantage when talking with clients on the phone.” Abigail took a small notepad from the top drawer of her desk and pulled off a sheet of paper. She wrote something down on it, folded it in half, and slid it over to Sylvia across the desk. “Here’s what I can offer you in the form of a salary,” She said, but she didn’t remove her hand from the slip of paper. “However, before you look at this, I have to let you know something. Here at Exclusive Products, our main source of income is the manufacturing and selling of sexual devices. More specifically, sex dolls. We import them from overseas as well as having our own factory. The ones we make here are considered some of the best in the world, and they fetch incredibly high prices. Our methods in making them are a well guarded secret. We also make mannequins, but there are more horny perverts in the world than there are stores. I have to ask you right now: Would selling such items make you uncomfortable?” Sylvia sat there with a blank look on her face. Could she really sell sex toys? She wouldn’t even be here if she was able handle one old perverted pig, so how would she manage with them on a daily basis? Then she thought for a moment. Her body could work to her advantage this way. She could wear the most revealing business attire she could find. The perverts would be so turned on by just looking at her, they’ll have to buy a doll just to get their rocks off! An extremely wide grin ran across her face. “Yes, I think I can do that.” “Good!” Abigail let go of the paper and Sylvia opened it. The number written down there shocked her. Her eyes got as big as saucers and her mouth hung agape. “Seventy Five Thousand Dollars?!?,” she exclaimed. “Just to help you sell sex toys?!?” “Yes,” Abigail replied as she sat back down in her chair. “Plus a percentage commission when you help close a sale. Interested?” “When Can I Start?!?” “Tomorrow, but first I’ll give you a tour of our operation. Do you have time for that today?” Sylvia jumped out of the chair like she was sitting on a spring. She was smiling so hard that her cheeks turned red and started hurting a little. “I would be delighted! The more I learn today, the easier the transition is tomorrow!” “That’s the spirit!,” Abigail replied with a grin of her own as she stood up. She reached out her hand again as she walked around the desk to Sylvia, who was literally bouncing with excitement. They shook hands again, but this time Sylvia lost her composure and shook Abigail’s hand vigorously. She winced a little as her wrist was wrenched in more ways than it was supposed to, and, upon noticing the discomfort, Sylvia let go abruptly. “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!,” She quickly said in succession, “Please excuse my excitement! Oh, wow! This is triple my last job paid me! I feel a little light headed!” “That’s understandable, dear,” Abigail said as she shook the pain from her wrist. “You jumped up a little too fast. Breathe a little bit and compose yourself. I’ll take you to the break room. I keep the fridge stocked with assorted flavored waters for the employees.” Sylvia came to her senses in short order and, with a little help with balance from Abigail, walked out of her office. They turned left and went to the next door over. Inside was a well lit room with three round tables, about two dozen chairs, a table with two microwaves, and an industrial size refrigerator. “Here we go,” Abigail said as she helped Sylvia to a chair. “By the way, I can’t help noticing your blouse. It’s beautiful. ‘Vera Wang‘?” “Versace. Real silk. I made my last boyfriend get it for me two years ago. I think he’s still paying for it.” Abigail nodded, smiled, then walked over to the fridge. She opened both doors wide so all of the contents were displayed. There were a few brown bags, clear containers of liquid, and thermal lunch boxes on the left side and the right side was stocked with sealed 20 ounce plastic bottles of flavored water. “What flavor would you like?” “ Cherry, if you don’t mind.” Abigail pulled out a cherry, closed up the fridge, then walked it over to Sylvia. She made short order of the bottle’s seal and gulped down one quarter of it’s contents. She lowered the bottle from her lips with a gasp of air. “Mmmm,’ She said, “This stuff is good. If I can have this every day, I’ll consider it a major perk!” She lifted the bottle up again and took another swig. “Now, if you’re ready, we can star the tour. You can bring your drink if you want. The warehouse can get hot during the day.” “I’m ready when you are!,” Sylvia replied without hesitating. She stood up and walked over to Abigail. Both women then walked out of the break room, turned left, and went through the plastic double doors. ********** ...

(story continues from The Trash Wife) Part 2: My Reward The week had been particularly stressful, the business we run has had several large orders to complete in a hurry, this involved a lot of hours and work from the people we employ and me as the accounts manager responsible for all the paperwork side. Great for the company - but a busy time for me. I managed to get the paperwork done by Friday lunchtime and the orders were shipped that day to the clients, I was pleased that everything went smoothly and now that the orders were done we could go home. All the staff were happy when I told them that they could go once the orders were shipped, so most of the staff took off with the last one leaving about 3pm. ...

“Well? Tell me you have something this time.” Leaning back in her chair, Laura Spalding gazed at the five men standing in front of her. Together, these men formed the research and development department of her small but very profitable company, FashionMax. Specializing in the unusual, Laura had made a name, and a fortune, catering to the fetish crowd. Now, she waited news on what could well be her crowning achievement. ...

The plant was dark and silent. Jamie frowned as she made her way through the production area. As production manager, she always made it a point to go through after the plant’s single shift had left for the day, making sure all the equipment was properly shut down. Not that there was much to check. The plant was a small operation, making custom stands and hangers. Thus, the only real equipment consisted of saws and drills, benders and shapers. And the wrapper. ...