The job opening had turned up a few months later, and she'd gone to the interview out of a sense of morbid fascination with the entire thing, the manufacturing of plastic sex toys that only existed to be fucked. Now here she was, a year later, stealing a look at the new product line while her husband was probably waiting for her at home. There was that same disquiet in the pit of her stomach now that she'd felt while looking at that photo. These things were made to be fucked. It was their sole purpose, to be used by their owners in whichever way and however often their owners chose. The doll had no choice in the matter. She shivered, taking a step back from the faceless objects in front of her.
Her heel gave slightly, the floor beneath her no longer concrete, but something softer. She overbalanced a little, taking another half-step back to correct herself, and looked down. She was standing on the conveyor belt. It had been constructed flush with the floor level for ease of loading. There was a soft beep and suddenly it began to move, activated by her body weight on it.
Monika's arms cartwheeled in space, trying to maintain her balance with the unexpected motion. It cost her several precious seconds. She turned, and realised how close she was to the open front of the first cabinet. Before she could step off the conveyor belt, she glimpsed movement in the gloom beneath the subdued illumination of the safety lighting.
A prehensile steel tentacle shot out from the front of the cabinet, locking a steel pincer around her wrist. She stared at it, incredulously, then tugged.
"What the hell?"
The machine tentacle held her fast. She looked around quickly, frowning. The green light on the cabinet illuminated its control panel, showing a read-out and below that a large, reassuring red button marked 'emergency stop'. She reached out with her free hand to stab it, irritated now that the machine had seized her.
Another tentacle flashed in the light, grabbing her wrist, stopping her fingers just centimetres from the cutoff button. She growled, pushing hard. Her finger brushed the front of the button, but almost as she began to depress it, the tentacles flexed, pinning her arms by her sides. She found herself staring directly into the dark interior of the first cabinet.
"Oh shit," she growled, then yelled out. "Help! Please, anyone there? Help! The machine's got me!"
Her desperate cries echoed through the empty space. She heaved against the tentacles, stepping backwards, but felt a sudden constriction around her ankles. She looked down with growing dread to see another two tentacles holding her legs firmly in position.
Monika panicked, yelling for help at the top of her voice, struggling as hard as she could against the implacable steel grip that had immobilised her body. But, however much she squirmed, however much she screamed, the conveyor belt drew her inescapabably into the heart of the first cabinet. Monika cried out again, but it was in vain, as she was enveloped by the darkness.
Tiny lights strobed, scanning her. The conveyor belt halted.
Monika nearly cried with relief, so glad that the production line's safety controls had scanned an unexpected object and shut down. Or perhaps, the supervisor had noticed the production line activating and had closed it down from her office. Either way, even though she was still held firmly in place, the alarms would have been triggered. She just had to wait a few minutes and she would be free. The cabinet made a soft, rhythmic beeping noise around her.
As her heart rate began to slow from the frantic pace she could feel throbbing in her neck, she thanked fate for sparing her from whatever these machines did to the doll blanks stood behind her. The thought made her shudder, recalling how the prototype had looked when they'd had the meeting to introduce the new product line earlier in the day.
The Chief Product Officer had unveiled it at the end of the morning meeting and Monika had found herself staring at the doll, transfixed, in the middle of the meeting room. Its vacant eyes had stared directly at her, the ruby red lips inflated in a round 'O' of surprise. It looked as if it had been caught mid-orgasm, she thought. Its breasts were high, as if defying gravity, but not comically large. The Chief Product Officer had been telling them that breast size, hair colour, eye colour, waist, were all parameterized, so the customer could order exactly the doll they required. Monika's eyes had flicked down to the circular rubber ring between its legs and just nodded, stepping away.
The doll's orifice had been held open by that ring, as if begging to be entered. She'd let the designer run through his spiel, but all she could think of was the doll, standing there while they talked, unable to join in the conversation about its purpose or its fate, consigned to silence, naked, waiting to be fucked.
Monika tugged at her bonds again, getting impatient. Where was the supervisor? Why was she taking so long? The soft, regular beeping of the cabinet was also beginning to grate on her nerves.
There was a double-beep. Monika frowned at the change.
Something brushed against her thigh, and she felt a breath of air against her skin. Something brushed against her other thigh and she looked down, puzzled. Folds of material dropped to the ground next to her clamped feet.
"What?"
She felt another touch, and suddenly, the entire front of her skirt peeled off, exposing her panties. The rest of her skirt followed, flopping around her feet, leaving the feeling of air and nothing else on her bare thighs. There was a quick movement, almost invisible in the gloom of the cabinet, and then to her dismay, she felt her panties peel away, exposing the dark curls of her neatly-manicured crotch.
With growing apprehension, she realised what the cabinet had done. It had detected the clothing on her and was now removing it. She was being unpackaged. Monika looked forward, out through the back of the cabinet and into the maw of the next one on the conveyor belt. She began to holler desperately for help.
The tiny hands worked fast, brushing against her back and arms, shredding her top until it too lay in strips around her feet. There was a ping in the middle of her back and her bra came free, exposing her breasts, finally stripping her completely nude. Her cries for help went unanswered.
The lights strobed again, and the cabinet resumed its soft beeping for a moment. Surely it could tell the difference between a plastic doll chassis and a living woman's naked body? Surely the failsafes had to kick in at this point? It would be embarrassing to be rescued like this, naked and trapped in the machine, but surely her nightmare was over?
A light strobed over her left hand. She looked down, curiously.
A tiny claw shot out, wrapping itself around a finger, and she felt a sharp tug. It withdrew, something glinting in its grasp. She looked down at her hand again and realised what it was: the cabinet had removed her wedding ring. For some reason, that made her feel more naked. The conveyor belt moved forward again, and she looked back at the remains of her clothing, with her wedding ring dropped on top, and her access pass still clipped to the waist of her shredded skirt. Quick hands tidied the discarded remnants into a waste chute, leaving nothing behind that would be able to identify her.
She looked directly ahead, emerging from one cabinet and into the next. She didn't scream anymore. There was no point. If someone was aware of her predicament, they would have been here by now. There was no way out. She was about to be transformed.
The tentacles released her unexpectedly and for a second, she was free to move. Startled, she hesitated, and it was enough. Tentacles emerged from the next cabinet and clamped around her wrists and ankles. The opportunity for escape had been squandered.
Monika was drawn into the depths of the second cabinet, wracking her memory. The Chief Product Officer had detailed the production line stages, but she'd been thinking about the doll instead. She wished she'd been paying attention. The conveyor belt stopped and for a moment, there was silence again.
She felt a fine mist against her naked body, and she shivered, screwing her eyes tight and closing her mouth. She wasn't shivering from cold: she had just remembered what came next. The mist continued to waft around her, until her skin was slick and her hair saturated. Her skin began to tingle all over. The sound of the machine gave way to silence, and she stood, helpless and dripping, counting the seconds. There was a sudden deluge of water from above, accompanied by a dozen tiny hands tipped with sponge moving efficiently over her skin.
The tiny hands stroked her head, down her spine, over her tummy, tickling her and making her squirm, but the tentacles held her absolutely immobile. She knew that she was being cleaned, after being unpackaged. The hands worked their way up her chest and she hissed quietly at the firm attention they payed to her nipples, leaving them hard and throbbing. She braced herself, feeling them working their way down her torso, over her tummy, to the space between her legs.
The little sponge hands were merciless, passing over her mons, across her pussy lips in quick strokes, over and over. She tried to angle her hips, pulling away, but they followed her, adjusting. Firm pads provided a rigorous friction over her slit, and she felt herself warming to their touch. One of the hands seemed to sense this, even as the others continued their exploration of her lower body. One slipped down the cleft between her buttocks, hovering too, just like the front hand, over her puckered back entrance.
They began to work in unison, rotating as they pressed into her front and rear. Monika wanted to scream, but she kept her lips firmly together for fear of another hand finding her open mouth. Instead, she endured silently as she was scrubbed in her most intimate places, enduring the friction as best she could.
Then it seemed to change, becoming something else. The insistent pressure on her puckered star, coupled with the rubbing of the sponge against her sensitised clit began to stimulate her arousal. Monika could remember all the steps now. Locked in the grip of the machine, she knew exactly what her fate was. The little hands pushed slightly and her body gave way, accepting them inside her. She gave in to the machine.
Soon, she would be like the doll in the meeting room. There was no use fighting it, there was no way out. Her only option was to keep as still as possible and relax as much as she could so that she wasn't injured in the process. She felt herself violated in her rear for the first time in her life, and forced the panic from her body. When the other arms withdrew, she felt something cold injected into her pussy and her anus, and then the intruders also slipped out of her.
As warm air circulated over her scrubbed and polished skin, she knew what the cold fluid was for. She had just been lubricated to prepare her body for her inserts. Monika opened her eyes again, looking down at herself. It was as she'd expected. The tingling fluid had cleaned her thoroughly, but it had also removed all her hair. Lights strobed, checking that the process was complete. She imagined what the machine would see: a female figure, bald and clean, standing motionless on the conveyor belt ready for plasticisation.
