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Tales from the Dolly Shoppe: Randi Reporter
by URN My Power
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© 2010 - URN My Power - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; caught; M/f; drug; machine; bodymod; transform; doll; oral; nc; X
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Tales from the Dolly Shoppe: Randi Reporter by URN My Power Solo-F; caught; M/f; drug; machine; bodymod; transform; doll; oral; nc; X

 

Miranda Sutton watched the comings and goings at the little store as the late-afternoon shoppers thinned out. The only person working at The Dolly Shoppe was a man who looked like a young Pat Sajak. His nametag said "Bob," and he managed to look busy with mundane paperwork when no customers were in evidence. The display models around the store didn't move, but the one time Bob had been in the back long enough for her to dare touching one, it had been suspiciously warm to the touch.

Miranda was an investigative journalist who had picked up on a missing-persons' case. Pretty girls were disappearing all over town. Miranda had hit on the fact that the wave had started when The Dolly Shoppe had come to town. Bob closed the gate as the announcement that the mall was closing sounded over the PA. Miranda approached the gate and checked the GPS on her cell phone. She left and circled around to the back of the mall, waiting until all the cars were gone from the employee lot. Apparently, Bob had left just after closing the gate, because no one else came out. She returned to her own car, parked under one of the unbroken lights, her stun gun nonetheless at the ready. She opened the trunk and pulled out a hand-held industrial magnet. This thing, the manufacturer had bragged, would pull Voltron through a keyhole.

Carrying her magnet, she checked her GPS again at each of the access doors until she came to the one that was closest to the Dolly Shoppe. She put her magnet on the door, hearing the latch move, and pulled. Just as she'd thought, the inner bar was steel with enough iron in it to be attracted by the powerful magnetic force--at least enough that she was able to get the door open. As quietly as she could, she slid the magnet off the door and carried it with her. The back room had a changing room and ten metal cyllinders, and on the other side of a partition was computer equipment. One of the monitors showed security camera data. The other merely said "SCAN" in large, capital letters.

Approaching one of the in-store displays, a girl dressed as Dark Magician Girl, she held her hand close to the face. It was very faint, but she could feel the display breathing. She pulled out her cell and cycled through the pictures of missing girls stored there. None of them matched the Dark Magician Girl, but she did recognize one girl dressed as Supergirl from DC Comics, and another girl who was dressed as Storm from the Marvel side of things. She snapped pictures of them and attached them to an email to her boss with her personal inbox in the carbon-copy field. When she tried to send it, however, she got a message telling her there was no signal. She moved around the store, but there was no signal anywhere, even in the back room. Of course, if she were a kidnapper, she guessed she'd have something in the walls preventing cell phone signals from getting out too.

Bob stepped out from behind a partition and into her path. "Hello, Miss, may I help you with something?" he asked gently.

"Uh, I was just looking for a restroom." Miranda replied, backing away and hoping she could lure him away from the door and make a break for it.

"Well, maybe I can help you find something else." Bob suggested.

"Actually, I just really need to go to the bathroom." Bob moved nonchalantly, but was careful to keep himself between her and the exit. She tried going back through the store, in the hope that the gate would open, but that door was closed, and wouldn't respond to her attempts to turn the knob. She turned back and Bob was there, almost right in her face. She pressed the button for her stun gun, thrusting it at him, but he batted it out of her hand and sent it skidding away. Desperately now, she swung the magnet at him. He moved aside and struck her hand hard enough to make it tingle. The magnet attached itself to a metal support beam, in between the parallel parts so she wouldn't be able to slide it off. His grip on her as he pulled her against him was stronger than she expected. He sprayed something in her face. Miranda's vision quickly darkened. She didn't feel herself hit the floor.

When next she opened her eyes, she was naked and cold. Panic swelled within her when she found herself suspended in some kind of capsule by her wrists. Outside, Bob noticed that she was awake and ran the program--Wind-Up Double Agent. Inside the capsule, Miranda's eyes widened as two beam projectors lined up with them, and then began firing beams.

No! What's...what...I...? were her last thoughts as herself. Her body straightened, and the restraints released. Needles injected microscopic robots into her body, which immediately set about re-making her. Her memories and personality were uploaded to the master computer, then deleted from the original host, along with everything else about her former human self. She was a doll. Her purpose was to play whatever games her Owner wished to play. Unwanted body hair fell away, and blemishes smoothed out. She was programmed for a number of her new Owner's favorite games. A new program was also downloaded into her technorganic brain: A human personality-emulator program called Randi Reporter, made from the uploaded data, designed to fool others into thinking the Miranda human still existed. The doll's chamber opened. She was lifted out, stiff and unmoving, her eyes as blank and empty as any other doll's. A cold, metal key was inserted into an opening that hadn't been there before. Owner twisted it several times, and she felt something inside her moving.

"Now, dolly, it's time to play." Owner said. "Kneel." The doll obeyed. Owner fished his cock out of his pants. The doll watched it stiffen and took the eight-inch appendage into her mouth. With a skill born of computerized programming, she sucked him, bobbing her head back and forth, swirling her tongue on the underside, and doing all she could to be a pleasing toy for Owner.

When he was done with her mouth, he moved behind her and inserted himself in her wet and dripping slit. After amusing himself there, he moved to her ass. She could feel herself winding down as he came in her ass. Something clicked inside her as she wound down, and then she moved no more. Owner amused himself with her immobile form before he noticed what time it was.

"Hmm, time for both of us to get ready for work." he murmured. He inserted the key into her back again and wound her up. "Run 'Randi Reporter.'"

"Yes, Owner." she said. She was given clothes to wear and sent to Miranda's place of employment.

* * *

"This is Miranda Sutton saying 'Goodbye.'" Randi said, and the lights dimmed as music played in the background.

"And, we're clear." the director said. Randi hurried to her dressing room, grabbing her purse and keys. Everyone understood she had a plane to catch. Those who could lined up in the hall, clapping for her. She hugged a few people she knew would miss her the most and accepted a piece of cake on a napkin from the producer. It was half-eaten when she reached the parking lot. For two weeks she had pretended to be human. For two weeks, she had maintained the Miranda Sutton farce at her Owner's command. Now, notice given and served and everyone who had known Miranda believing her to be on her way across the country, she drove quickly to the mall, desperate to be inside the Dolly Shoppe before she wound down. Her body clicked and froze as she was opening the door. Owner came out and hefted her inside.

"Almost made it." Owner said. "Oh, well." He moved her to the computer and affixed wires to her forehead. "Glad we don't need this anymore."

Randi would have agreed heartily if she had been free to do so. She didn't move, blink or change expression as her emulator program was deleted, leaving behind an empty doll.

The next day, a new display was visible to mall patrons passing by the Dolly Shoppe: A life-like reporter in pretty clothes with a plastic microphone in one hand, smiling vapidly, the only hint that she was less than human--aside from her blank and glassy eyes--was the key that jutted out of her back, now a permanent attachment. That night, Owner came and played with his newest dolly again, making sure she was cleaned and dressed and ready to go back on display the next morning.

The doll was glad to fulfill her purpose. This gladness added a touch of warmth to the smile as she waited for her Owner to wind her again.

End.

 

12.03.10

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