Automata

 

Angela was stripped naked and put on the conveyor belt. She tried to cover up with her hands, but she was restrained. Her advocate put a hand on her shoulder.

"It'll be okay," said Janine.

Angela squeezed back tears. "It will?"

"Your case is pretty strong," said Janine. "Especially your test scores. It's not as hard to get a waiver as people say, not if you know what you're doing."

"If you're sure..." said Angela.

"I am," said Janine. "I got one for myself at your age, I'm sure I can get one for you." She smiled, and Angela smiled too, but still fought not to cry.

The conveyor belt moved, and they were carried into a room full of hot lights. There was a high podium, and three men behind it. Angela could not see anyone's face, only silhouettes.

A clerk read off her name, personal ID number, and place of residence. "Aged 18 on May 4th," said the clerk. “Draft number pulled Thursday last.”

One of the men at the podium said "Ms. Gravinski, have you reviewed this candidate's case?"

"I have, Your Honor," said Janine. "And I've filed for a lifetime waiver on her behalf."

"On what grounds?" said another man.

"We've tested her, and her IQ is far beyond average," said Janine. "She shows a particular capacity for chemistry and chemical engineering. We feel that she would make valuable contributions to society if granted a waiver."

"Thank you, Ms. Gravinski," said one of the men.

"Additionally-"

"Thank you," said the man again. "That will be all. Give us time to confer."

Angela looked at Janine. It didn't seem like they'd given her very long. Was that normal? She tried to read the other woman's face, but the advocate's expression gave away nothing.

One of the silhouetted men leaned into his microphone. "It's our decision that this candidate does not qualify for a waiver, and should immediately undergo Automation."

Angela felt her stomach lurch. She almost fainted, but the restraints held her up. Janine looked shocked.

"What?" said Janine. "But her scores-"

"Are impressive," said the man at the podium. "But we don't need any more chemists. We feel she would make a more valuable contribution to society as a Sex Doll."

Angela started to cry. She saw Janine blinking back tears too.

"Proceed to surgery," said the man. "And please prep your next client as quickly as possible Ms. Gravinski; we have twelve more cases to hear today, and I have dinner plans at six."

The conveyor belt began to move, and Angela looked at Janine. Janine squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said, and stepped off.

"Don't leave me!" said Angela, but the conveyor took her out of the courtroom and the door closed behind her. She was alone.

She struggled against her restraints, but it was no good. Her chest hurt from sobbing. She couldn't believe this was happening. She'd studied so hard and taken every test she could because she thought it would help her get a waiver if her draft number came up. Now none of it mattered.

She arrived in a dome-shaped room with many mirrors and great robotic arms hanging from a device on the ceiling. The lights came up. Two men sat in the control booth.

"Hello?" she said.

They talked amongst each other.

"Hello?" she said again. "Please, help me. There's been a mistake."

"No talking please," said one of the men.

A pair of arms dropped down and shone beams of green light at her, circling her. She saw a 3D computer rendering of her body on the big screen overhead.

"What are we giving her?" said one of the technicians.

"There's no more custom orders today,” said the other. “She'll be for general use, so we can do whatever we want."

The other man cracked his knuckles. "Well, first things first, she needs to go down a few dress sizes."

He pushed a button and another arm dropped down, flashing a yellow light over Angela. She felt strange, all tingly and hot. Her skin became tight, and her abdomen contracted.

"But not too many," said the other technician. "Curves are coming back in a few years. Let's leave her a little to work with."

He pushed a switch, and the tight feeling diminished a bit.

"She's a little tall," said one tech. "Take her down an inch."

A blue ray shone on her, and her body jolted, and for a second she thought the room was getting bigger, but of course she had just gotten smaller.

"Face?" said one of the techs.

"I'm thinking we give her an Asian look," said the other. "That's a neglected demographic."

"Korean?"

"Good call. The hair too, go black with it."

Orange light bathed Angela's face, and she felt uncomfortable, like someone with a big hand was smooshing her cheeks. It went away after a minute.

"Now the latex spray."

Something wet spritzed Angela’s naked body. The fluid, whatever it was, soaked into her bare skin, her body absorbing it almost immediately. Her flesh seemed to harden and take on a sheen, becoming like rubber or vinyl. Soon she was rubbery all over.

"Let's not forget the tits. What's the industry minimum these days?"

"F cup."

"F it is."

Robotic arms attached nozzles to her nipples. She gasped as latex gel was pumped into them, inflating her tits. They were pumped full, until it almost hurt. The nozzles detached and a third arm spritzed her nipples, making them perfect, perky, and tan.

"Anything else?"

"Lip upgrades."

A needle injected her lips with latex gel. She felt them become fuller and plumper.

"Anything more than that and she'll have trouble talking."

"Well she won't need to say much from now on."

Angela licked her new lips; they were VERY full.

"And finally, downstairs."

A long metal rod on the end of a robot arm snaked between Angela's legs. She screamed and her eyes bulged as it pushed inside her, and then there was a warm gush as it pumped foam latex into her pussy.

Her privates atrophied and became rubbery, and her outer lips swelled with the gel. The rod pulled out and then entered her ass, molding it into a perfect, self-lubricating latex fuck hole as well

"Perfect," said one of the techs.

"We really should patent this one," said the other. "I think it's the best we've done in months."

An arm held up a full-length mirror. Angela did not recognize the woman she saw; a pale, demure-looking Asian with silky black hair, delicate features, a taut, petite body, enormous breasts, and full, luscious lips.

The woman's skin and face looked strange, not like a person at all but like something made of plastic, all rubbery and shiny. Her breasts looked like great rubber balloons, and her pussy looked like a little latex sex toy, perfect and clean and tight.

She's not a woman, thought Angela, she's a Sex Doll, a living Sex Doll. And then she realized that she wasn’t looking at just any Sex Doll, she was looking at herself!

"Okay, body is done, zap her with the obedience protocol."

"Wait!" said Angela, but the technician flipped a switch and a column of white light enveloped her. They kept it on for a full two minutes, during which time Angela could see, hear, and feel nothing.

The light turned off, and Angela felt... nothing at all.

One last robotic arm sprayed a barcode onto her abdomen, and under it stamped "FALSD": Fully Automated Living Sex Doll.

The techs came out of the booth and inspected her up close. They felt her arms and legs, tested the elasticity of her love holes, and squeezed her great, foam-filled breasts. She let them. The restraints were removed, but she did not try to leave, or stop them from touching her.

"That new formula is really something," said one of them as he fondled her F-cups. "The old one felt too natural, you know? I like the vinyl quality of these."

"She's good work all right," said the other.

Angela stared at them, unblinking, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She heard their words and understood them, but they meant nothing to her.

"We've got a ten minute break coming up," said one tech. "Want to try her out? A little quality control before we send her to be packaged?"

"Sure," said the other, and they both unzipped their pants, pulling out their swollen cocks.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I added something extra to her behavior module."

"Yeah?"

"Watch this." The tech looked into her eyes and said, in a very firm, even voice, "Get on your knees."

"I'm your rubber love slut,” said Angela, and dropped to her knees.

The other tech laughed. "That's great!"

"Yeah. It's a mandatory compulsion, so she'll say that all the time now. Now squeeze those nice tits we just gave you.”

"I'm your rubber love slut," Angela said in a monotone, and began groping herself. The sound of vinyl rubbing against itself filled the room.

“Now, suck this,“ said the technician.

“I’m your rubber love slut,“ said Angela, and formed her lips into a perfect O, swallowing the proffered organ. Her gel-injected lips were so pouty and full that no matter how wide she opened they still formed a tight seal around the man's shaft.

She pumped her head back and forth, her movements precise and mechanical, repeating the same motion again and again. The man groaned with pleasure. Her tongue secreted extra lubrication that allowed her to go faster.

The other tech stood behind her. "Get on all fours," he said, voice firm and even.

Angela popped the cock out of her mouth long enough to say "I'm your rubber love slut," and then got all fours. She continued to mechanically suck on the cock in front of her while a second one slid into her tight rubber cunt. Her gel-injected tissue automatically moistened on contact, and soon she was being stuffed from both ends.

She rocked back and forth between them, and all the while she never blinked, and her face never showed a hint of emotion. She was a Sex Doll now, fully automated. She did what she was told, and while she didn’t like it, she didn’t dislike it either. She felt nothing. Her three fuck holes were empty slots and she accepted having them filled.

After both men creamed inside of her she waited until they withdrew, then stood, cleaned herself at the nearby maintenance station, and waited for further instructions.

"Okay get back on the assembly line," said one of the techs, zipping himself up. "Go to the packaging center."

"I'm your rubber love slut," said Angela, and obeyed.

She caused quite a stir in the packaging center. Most of the men and a few of the women on the floor decided to take their ten minute break right then and try her out. For the better part of an hour all of her tight rubber fuck holes were pumped full of cum, until eventually the foreman had to yell at the gang to get back to work. Everyone agreed that Angela was the best new design in years.

She was given the first of the monthly injections that would keep her alive, prevent her from becoming pregnant, and preserve her in her rubberized state, and then she was boxed and shipped. She was bought by a Dollhouse a few days later, and assigned to a room on the first floor, where her light was on twenty hours a day and she serviced nearly a hundred paying customers.

She obediently sucked anonymous cocks with her fake plastic lips or lay on her back, legs spread, staring at the ceiling with glassy, vacant eyes as strange men fucked her little latex pussy and squeezed her big plastic tits twenty hours a day. After each one left she cleaned herself, then waited patiently for the next. She spent most of her four hour daily rest period lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, waiting for her next shift to start.

Part of her service fee was paid into an bank account with her name on it, but she rarely spent anything, as there was nothing to buy; she had room and board, and the monthly injections means she didn’t need to eat, and she didn’t bother to buy anything she wanted because she didn’t want anything.

A better part of her fee went to her parents, who used the money to pay for bribes to get waivers for their other daughters, and to send her brother to school to become an Automation technician. One day Angela realized that her next customer was her own brother, though he of course had no idea who she was. She recognized him, but did not care, saying nothing to him except, of course, “I’m your rubber love slut,” before providing a machine-like blowjob.

Angela was one of the most popular units in the house and a big moneymaker for her owners, but after ten years she was finally decommissioned. She was outdated and couldn’t compete with the newer models, so she was shipped back to the factory to be turned off forever, and the entire trip there she didn’t say a word and her expression never changed from its normal, glassy stare.

She was saved, though, at the last minute, by a private buyer who offered to purchase her at a discount. He was a collector of vintage models, and ten years earlier he had been one of Angela’s first customers. He’d lost his virginity to her and had been waiting for years for her lot number to come up. He was thrilled to get such a good deal on her.

The technicians offered to redesign her for him, suggesting that her measurements be adjusted and her cup size increased to match more modern design ideas, but he wouldn’t hear of it. The collector only wanted one alteration made, a very specific one of his own design.

The collector gave her a room of her own in his penthouse and dressed her up in expensive clothes. She did not care, only thanking him if he specifically ordered her to. If not instructed to wear an outfit, she put on anything, or nothing at all.

The collector came home after work and went straight to her room, finding her just where he’d left her. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be asleep. He rolled her over and turned the windup crank he’d had installed in her back. Clockwork turned and springs uncoiled, and she opened her eyes, jerking to life.

“Hello Angela,” said her owner. “How are you this evening?”

She said nothing. He began to undress.

“Are you ready to please your owner?” he said.

“I’m your rubber love slut,” she said, and he chuckled.

“That’s a good girl.”

She sucked his cock as instructed, and when her crank wound down she fell asleep instantly, slumping over into a dreamless, oblivion-filled slumber. He wound her up again, and her eyes opened, and she sat up, clockwork ticking away, and he told her to lie on her back.

“I’m your rubber love slut,” she said, legs spread, and her face was a plastic mask without expression as he climbed on top and fucked her, cumming in her tight latex pussy over and over throughout the night. Every time she wound down she turned off until he wound her back up, and in truth there was not much difference between the two states.

This went on for years, and she lived the life of a soulless living sex toy, glassy-eyed and indifferent to everything. If there was anything left in her of the old Angela, the scared 18 year old girl whose number was called all those years ago, it was as cold and atrophied as the rest of her body, trapped forever inside the rubber love slut who never felt a thing.

When she wound down for the last time they put her in a museum, where she is still, a pretty Doll in a glass case with a plaque displaying her name and serial number and the year she was Automated. As the years go by her case becomes dusty and disused, and soon she is forgotten entirely, and that becomes her, final resting place; Angela, a broken toy who nobody remembers was ever once a person.

 

16.10.11

story continues in Automata 2: The Escape

o0o