Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
*****
He led them upstairs to the quiet restaurant section. It was a themed place, all the waitresses dolls, all looking exactly like Barbie - that one, famous fashion toy that both young girls and grown men all seemed so fond of. It was both clichéd and sexy. It was also one of Emma's favorite fantasies.
She wondered how it felt for those girls, having been turned into the popular doll archetype. It was the most common transformation done by amateur Makers all over the world. Being a Barbie, there was nothing unique about you. You were a dime a dozen. A guy could pick you, or a copy standing right next to you, and get exactly the same experience. Or have both of you at the same time, if he wanted it double. Emma wondered how it would feel to see your face not only in the mirror, but on others, everywhere you went. She wondered how it would be to share a bed with someone that looked just like yourself.
The restaurant put a spin on it, having the dolls dress up to different roles, just like the doll series. At first glance, Emma saw two Ballerina Barbies, a Secretary Barbie, and a Princess Barbie.
Nodding to one of the waitresses in passing, the Maker headed to a secluded booth that had a view down on the dance floor, without waiting to be seated. Maybe something had been arranged beforehand. Perhaps he was a regular.
The thick glass separating the restaurant from the club area was mostly sound-proof, but some of the music made it through. Emma could feel the base from the music in her belly, the vibrations of it mixing with her heat, making it hard to separate the two. She fidgeted as her sex thrummed at 120 beats per minute.
The man and his two blondes took one side of the booth. The Maker, sexily flanked by the two identical dolls, looked up at Emma as she stood there hesitating. He made a little gesture to the tall blonde standing next to her. The blonde assigned to her pressed her gently into the booth.
Emma meekly let herself be pushed down onto the bench and slid in, ending up next to the glass, a perfect view over the packed dance floor. But with the last blonde taking her place next to her, it didn't leave her with an easy escape.
She was nervous and excited at the same time. The tall blonde sliding in close to her, nuzzling up to her side made her just a little bit less nervous, but quite a bit more excited. She almost felt intoxicated, as if she'd had just the right amount to drink.
And then the drinks arrived. One of the tutu-clad ballerina Barbies delivered them, some sort of whiskey for him, colorful drinks for the triplets and her. He took a sip, looking at her, drawing it out.
She squirmed in nervous anticipation.
"Damien," he said, holding out a hand to her.
She almost took it, caught herself at the last moment, gasped, put her hand on the table. "Emma," she said nervously. She had almost touched the Maker.
He chuckled, took his hand back. "Yeah, not ready for that yet, are we?" He took another sip. "The triplets are all named Mandy, believe it or not. I managed to get them to a point where I could rename two of them to match my favorite."
The two blondes flanking Damien smiled at Emma. The one squeezed up at her side nibbled at her neck, making her squirm.
"Which one of you are the original Mandy?" she asked the dolls.
"I have no idea," Damien said. "I've done my best to try to make it so they don't even know themselves, anymore."
Emma looked from one blonde next to him, to the other. They were absolutely identical. The blondes giggled but said nothing to indicate who was who. "They don't talk much?" Emma asked.
"No, I have a thing for de-voicing, and in a weak moment I managed to do it to them," he said, shrugging, a gesture of sorry-not-really-sorry. "Well, a weak moment for them, strong moment for me," he added. "I find women much sexier that way." The triplets giggled again, shrugging too, like "What can you do?"
Emma's eyes widened at that. "No talk at all?"
"Nope. Just sounds like giggles, laughter, moaning. A lot of moaning," he said with a chuckle. He was looking at her, gauging her reaction.
She blushed, took a sip of her drink. It wasn't too strong. Still, she might actually get a bit tipsy. Was that a good or a bad thing? It might help her find the courage to do what she yearned to do. Which might be a bad thing.
She took another sip.
"That's... surprisingly sexy," she confessed.
"Well, good thing you didn't let me touch you then, or I might have done it to you," he said, leering at her.
She gulped. How do you answer a statement like that? "I... need to give a presentation in class on Thursday," she said. "I can't afford being de-voiced."
"I'm sure you're a clever girl. You'd find some way to work around that problem. But I guess you're not really up for all this, then."
He said that as if he wasn't perfectly aware that she was trying to work herself up to actually do let him touch her. She changed tack. "They're actually triplets?" she asked. "I thought maybe you were one of those men that had a specific type, turning everyone into the same girl."
Makers could only do changes based on their deepest desires, not something you could easily control. Some Makers were so locked in their ways that they always made changes towards the exact same end goal. Everyone they made ended up the same.
"Nothing wrong with being like the Maker running this club, with his single-minded fetish for that one doll," Damien said, with a tone that showed that he found the thing amusing. "You're not far off, but I'd like to think I'm a tiny bit more flexible. So no, they're actually triplets. I stumbled onto them at just the right moment. Apparently, there'd been some trouble with a boy, someone they all liked. They thought maybe I could make them less jealous of each other." He grinned. "They were right! They aren't at all jealous now, ready to share absolutely everything! They even share a name! So maybe it worked out. They got some unexpected bonuses from the deal, of course."
The triplets all giggled, the two teased up against him making cooing noises as they nuzzled at his ears.
"There are always bonuses with my talent," he said, meeting her eyes, holding the look.
She looked down, blushing.
He laughed at her reaction. "I think you're into that." He took another sip of the whiskey. There was no ice, but he tilted the glass slightly, turning it as if to shift imaginary ice cubes in the container. The liquid sloshed in the glass. "I do have a type, though," he added after a bit.
"Oh?" she said, tilting her head to the side. Some of her straight hair rustled over her shoulder, a few strands held back by the black spaghetti strap. "What type is that?" she asked, trying to make her tone playful.
"I make slaves."
She sat back at that. "Slaves?" she asked. "I... The triplets are slaves?"
"No, not yet," he said. "It's a gradual descent. Takes some time to get a woman to that point. And I want to change all three of them at the same time, so it's extra tricky. I need to catch them at just the right moment for that, in the right mood. All three of them. As a Maker, you get a feeling for how to get dolls to bend to your will after a while. And I have a lot of experience with doing just that."
She bit her lip, looking at him, blinking. She knew she should be telling him how that desire was offensive, how wrong it was to do that to someone - but, unfortunately, the idea was turning her on. The thought of the blonde triplets as slave girls was just too delicious. She knew she was betraying her upbringing, the sisterhood, even common sense. But the heat in her belly made her hold her tongue.
Times like this, she couldn't help but be ashamed of how she felt.
He interrupted her conflicted thoughts. "It's just a matter of time," he said. He leaned in to the blonde on his left side, nibbling at her ear. "I'm going to get you, girls," he teased playfully.
The triplets giggled, then the two Mandys across the table nodded at Emma as if saying "It's bound to happen, sooner or later."
"They seem to actually be into it," Emma said, struggling to not let her tone reveal how much she was too.
Damien grinned at her, amused at her attempts to hide her reaction. Her cheeks grew pink. She felt naked at how easy he seemed to see right through her.
"They weren't at all, at first. It's taken quite some time to get them this far," he said. "But if they stay with me, I'll soon make them into property. I've done everything else I want to them already. It's the only thing left that I desire to change. I haven't decided if I'm going to sell them or not, yet."
He paused, met her eyes again. "Take out your phone," he commanded. "Let me show you something."
She reached to her tiny purse for her phone. As she picked the phone up, the Mandy next to her took her hand, moved it and the phone down under the table. As the device got close to the doll's sex, it beeped, a notification showing up on the screen.
"Electronic tag in her clit piercing," Damien said. "All my dolls have one. Look at the page."
Emma brought the phone back up, looked at the notification. A web link. She tapped it, and the browser opened. It looked like some sort of social media page. "The Mandy triplets," it said. There was info about them, pictures. Emma gasped as she saw the bidding section. "Prebidding, potentially for sale." The top bid was over 40 million!
