Barbie Girl

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A man has a very special chair.
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Fru
Fru
38 Followers

*Author's Note: This is my first mc story, though I hope to write many more; I have a few interesting ones in the works. I would appreciate any comments or criticism. Oh, and all the normal warnings apply, and you may copy this story only if I gave you my express permission, and my name must go with it. Enjoy.*

*

Frustrated

I know it's perverse, but I enjoy watching their faces glaze over. I put those snooty and snarky and steely girls under, and when they surface, nothing but slut is left. Jessica was my most recent; I met her at the mall.

The slim, flat-chested brunette talking on a cell-phone and nervously pacing in front of a department store glanced at me.

"Excuse me miss, are you alright?"

"Oh, yes," she said, "I'm just trying to get my friend on the line, she hasn't shown up yet."

"What does your friend look like?"

"Oh, she's--she'll show up."

"Maybe I could help you look."

"No thanks." She was mistrustful of strangers. That could be cured. I started to stretch one hand out towards her, and then stopped when I saw the looks several passers-by were giving me. It would have to be less public...

"Well, I'll be inside the store if you want to find me."

"Uh, thanks anyway."

She dialed another call and I headed into the store. I lingered near the door for a while, and then made my rounds of the counters. As the minutes passed and it became less and less likely that the girl would ask me for help, I started choosing my path randomly, winding my way into the depths of the store. I ended up near an outside exit.

"Oh, mister?" There was a tap on my shoulder. I turned to look at the curvaceous girl in jeans and a pink pea-coat. "Have you seen my friend? She was supposed to be here."

"I'm sorry, I don't think so."

"Ugh, bastard," she said under her breath. I forgot the other girl; this one needed some manners. She also had a better base to work off of.

"Well, you're not giving me much to go on here. What does she look like?"

"She's wearing a black coat. Brown hair. Short." She spat every word with contempt and a sort of hiss.

"I might have seen her," I said, as if remembering something difficult, "Yes! I have seen her."

"Where?"

"I don't know if I should tell you after you've been so rude to me, as you were obviously rude to her."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Whatever, I'll find her." She turned to go. She needed to learn some manners.

"You won't. She was leaving. I saw her in the parking lot, getting into a car. She said that her friend was a bitch she never wanted to see again."

"What?"

"I assume that the bitch would be you."

"I am not a bitch. That whore!"

"I could probably take you to her; she couldn't have gotten far in all this traffic. You could sit in the passenger seat and point out her car and when you find it, I'll follow her."

The girl was almost mad enough to shoot flames out of her ears, so she agreed.

"Oh little girl," I thought, "Didn't you ever listen to your mother when she said not to go with strangers?" This was going to be easy.

I took the nearest exit and walked out to my car; the girl walked two steps ahead of me, so she had to correct her course every time I changed rows, which I did often. It served only to enrage her more fully.

I hit the beeper button on my key ring and then the special button and opened the passenger door for her. She got in and crossed her legs with nary a thank you. I crossed over the long way and got in myself, leaving her to shut her own door. The seat-belts automatically enclosed both of us when I started the car.

"Ouch! This stupid thing pinched me."

"It does that sometimes, don't mind it; the pain will go away in a second."

... "Hiya Barbie"...

"Hi Ken!"...

"Wanna go for a ride?"...

"Sure Ken!"...

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye, and I quickly snapped off the stereo.

I maneuvered my black, compact car around the lot and merged into traffic. I was not being quick enough for my passenger, who was getting more frustrated by the second.

"I don't see her car. Where is she?"

"I don't know what it looks like."

"Um, that red one, that looks like it."

"Is it hers?"

"I don't know."

"Alright then, I'll follow it." It was going in the right direction.

I followed the car down several highway exits and then onto a state road, where I "lost" it when it turned off. I went one more exit and did the same.

I stole glances at the livid girl in the passenger seat; her long, dark hair ran straight down her back, brushing her high cheek-bones almost delicately. Her stiletto-heeled boots tapped impatiently on the floor.

I pretended to be following another red car when she asked if I knew where I was going. She sounded extremely skeptical, but she was still angry. Of course I knew where I was going.

We pulled up to my apartment building a few minutes later. By now the drugs from the seatbelt poke were starting to take effect, so she didn't object when I took her arm and guided her up three flights of stairs and into my apartment, or when I bolted the door behind us.

"Please, sit down." I pointed to the green armchair in the very center of the room. It was not a question.

She took off her coat and purse, set them down, and complied.

"You may wonder why I've brought you here."

"Yes..." The drugs were giving her a warm, leaden feeling; she couldn't move very well but she was still aware.

I massaged her shoulders, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"You've been a nasty-hearted bitch, and I'm going to cure you of that."

"I'm...not a....bitch," she said with great effort.

"Oh yes you are. You left your friend stranded at the mall. She was worried sick about you, and you showed up so late it's a wonder the girl hadn't already left."

"I...was just...playing...she's a..."

"She's a nice girl. But you're a mean girl. You're rude to strangers and friends alike. You need to be cured of your nasty habits."

"I'm...fine," she gritted.

"Oh, you will be." I moved my hands down off her shoulders and slid them to the back of the chair. I removed the cover to the panel and hit the power button.

To the untrained eye, the apparatus in the back of the chair looked like an expensive stereo. Playing music was one of its functions, but that was later. I pressed a small blue switch and the restraints locked her arms and waist onto the chair.

"Now," I said, rubbing my hands together, "Let us begin." I pulled the remote out of its niche and spun the chair around so that its occupant faced me. "What is your name?"

"Jessica." I picked up her purse from the floor and leafed through it until I found a driver's license.

"Good girl, you told the truth. The truth is rewarded." I pressed the green button on the remote. She let out a little moan of pleasure. I pressed the button again and the pleasure stopped.

"The truth is good," I said, giving the button two quick taps, "but that wasn't reality."

"Of course it's reality, my name is Jessica."

"Hmm, the drugs must be fading out," I thought, "she can speak normally."

"No. Your name is truthfully Jessica, nominally Jessica, but in reality, you are Jessi."

"I hate that name, never call me Jessi! No one calls me Jessi and gets away with it!"

"Your name may legally be Jessica, but everyone calls you Jessi. You call yourself Jessi. Your name is truthfully Jessica, but in reality, you are Jessi." The drugs didn't allow for much sense of paradox; she went cross-eyed and started jabbering in fear.

I pressed the purple button, and held it down for ten seconds. She blacked out. Time for phase two.

She was out for about five minutes, which was ample time for me to choose the programs I wanted from the chair's menu.

When she showed signs of coming to consciousness, I went over to the cabinet on the far wall and slipped a very special CD from its case. I put it into the slot in the back of the chair and hit play.

... "Hiya Barbie"...

"Hi Ken!"...

"Wanna go for a ride?"...

"Sure Ken!"...

Jessica woke up and spat around the gag in her mouth.

"You don't like this song? Don't worry, we'll fix that." She spat again. I frowned. "As well as some other things. Especially that attitude of yours. Girls like you should never spit." I pressed the black button on the remote, the one embossed with the curvy letter "B." The chair started to vibrate and the headphones closed over her ears. It would provide her a more...intimate...link to the song, as well as pump the subliminals directly into her brain.

For the first time, her eyes showed fear. She had realized that I was serious, that I could make good my boasts. I walked around so that I could stare directly into her eyes. She tried to speak, to scream, to cry, but it was muffled by the gag. I took it out, savoring the pure fear and hatred in her eyes.

"Ah, my sweet. Enjoy the smell of freedom; it's not coming back."

I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world

"What are you doing to me mister, please, please let me go, why are you doing this?"

I didn't bother to answer.

At this stage, she could feel the commands the subliminals were giving her; "I am a silly Barbie girl, living in my Barbie world. Ken is a man. Ken knows best. I will obey Ken. I love Ken. I am Ken's to use, because I am a silly Barbie Girl, living in my Barbie World."

In a few minutes, she would feel her old self slipping away, feel Jessica recede into Jessi. Jessica's rather limited intelligence would be truncated along with the c and a from her name, to be replaced with pink frosting. I went and got a beer.

I nursed it along for the next hour, watching the truth vibrated into Jessica. I craned my head forward to catch that little gasp as the dildos extended from the chair... "I am a silly Barbie Girl, living in my Barbie World. I love to get fucked, especially by Ken. Cocks fill me and give me pleasure, so I must pleasure them back. I love to feel cocks in my pussy, my ass, between my tits, in my hands, and in my mouth. I am a silly Barbie Girl, living in my Barbie World..." I got up, went to the cabinet, and put the third one in her mouth myself. I could have built the chair to do it, but I enjoy the personal touch... "I am a silly Barbie Girl, living in my Barbie World. I love cocks, especially Ken's cock. Cocks fill me and give me pleasure, so I must pleasure them back. I love sucking cocks. I love to feel them in my throat. I love to swallow cum. Cum tastes delicious. I can't get enough cum. I am a silly Barbie Girl, living in my Barbie World..."

The chair was amazing enough in itself. I had picked it up at a yard sale. It had been just an empty, rotting hull of a lounger. I had had it recovered and puttered around with it for a few years until I got it right.

A few minutes later, Jessi happily sucking away, the chair tilted back into the lounge position. I hit the white button; her breasts were 36D for sure, and she looked like she was in pretty good shape, with long slender legs and toned abs, but she could use some liposuction and of course, collagen for the lips, maybe wider hips, and definitely a dye job. The white button started the previously chosen programs I had chosen for her when she was blacked out.

The bits of the chair that preformed the plastic surgery extended and started busily cutting and filling. Always having been fascinated with this part, I went over to the chair and looked down on Jessi. I had programmed the chair directly from the internet, not being a surgeon myself. I watched the mechanical arms fill out her breasts, take out fat here and especially there, and inject her lips to make them full and pouty.

Very delicately, more arms extended from the head of the chair and began their next operations.

Jessi's eyes were blank; it was as if she were a sponge in a coma, soaking up everything the subliminals were giving her to learn. This part of the procedure invoked the most intense learning because the chair was also pumping her with painkillers and hormones to heal quickly, which kicked out a lot of brain activity. I knew this next part would take a while and that the chair could handle it by itself. I decided to go have some dinner and catch a late movie.

The door to the semi-empty apartment clicked shut, locked from the outside... "I am a silly Barbie Girl, living in my Barbie World. I will obey Ken. Ken is a man and I am just a silly Barbie girl. I love to giggle and jiggle my titties. Men like to look at me so I will dress to show off my hot body. I am a silly Barbie Girl, living in my Barbie World..."

I'm a blond bimbo girl, in the fantasy world

Dress me up, make it tight, I'm your dolly

You're my doll, rock'n'roll, feel the glamour in pink,

Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky panky...

You can touch, you can play, if you say: "I'm always yours"

I got back in around eleven and threw my jacket on the couch. I glanced at the chair; it had released her. Jessi was now sleeping, the last of the subliminals cementing her new personality. Her face was glazed, emotionless. Another half hour ought to do it; I had another beer and watched some TV.

When I looked up and realized it was past eleven thirty, I clicked off the set and walked over to my newest creation.

"Jessi?" I asked. She opened her eyes. When they focused, her face lit up in a huge smile.

"Yes sir?"

"Go get dressed. There are some clothes laid out for you on the bed."

"Ok!" She leaped off the chair and went into the bedroom, dancing to the song playing over and over in her head.

Make me walk, make me talk, do whatever you please

I can act like a star, I can beg on my knees

"Do you want to beg, Jessi girl?"

"O0o, yes, if you want Jessi to."

"That won't be necessary quite yet. Come in here, Jessi."

I smiled as she bounced in, resplendent. Her legs were long and smooth, and looked even better thanks to the cork-soled pink sandals. Her neon pink skirt came down just barely to the end of her ass, and the matching shirt was tight around her newly firmed chest. She saw me looking and did a little spin-around.

Come on Barbie, let's go party!

There was still time.

"Jessi girl, get on your knees and suck my cock."

She gave a squeal and dove for my zipper. I took a step back. She looked up at me with a confused pout, pushing out her puffy lips and tilting her head. I took a few more steps back and sat down on the couch. I extended one finger towards her, and made a "come here" gesture.

Jessi jumped up and leaped into the air like a cheerleader, squealing and clapping her hands, and then skipped across the room with the air of a lottery winner.

She descended on my groin, trying to get my stiffening cock out of my pants as fast as she could. I looked at her. She looked up at me coyly, licking her puffy lips and descending slowly. I pushed her head down. All the way down. She let out a muffled yelp as her nose smashed into my pelvis.

There was a ring. I held her head down as I reached across to the table and picked up the phone.

"Hello? Yes, I have her. I'm looking right at her." I looked down to where Jessi's mouth formed a cute "o" around me. I let go of her head and she began bobbing up and down frantically. "Yes, she took to it quite well. Hmm? No, not this time. At the mall." Her tongue began working, sliding up and down the sides of my cock and sweeping delicately over the head. I shivered as she took the whole thing back into her mouth and down her throat. I'll wager she couldn't do that a few hours ago. "Well, you know hunting the same ground more than once is risky. Don't worry. It won't happen this time. Guaranteed. She was on the house, and so is this one. I value your patronage, you know that." I grabbed Jessi's hair and wound it around my palm. "Cock? She loves it. Yes. Yes right now. Yes, I know what Allyson's problem—alright, I'll...perform the... tests. See you in an hour. Yes. Bye."

I looked down at Jessi. She had a look of pure ecstasy on her face. I'm sure I did too; she had formed a vacuum seal with her mouth and was jacking my cock off with her mouth.

"Up." I shook her off of my lap. She got that confused look again as she stumbled back onto the floor, her legs splayed. I could see the little pink flowered thong she was wearing, and everything behind it. I pointed her to the couch. "Bend over. We have to check you Jessi girl, to make sure you're not inferior merchandise. It's quality control, and I'm the inspector."

She giggled and wriggled her behind at me and I gave it a light smack, before sliding my cock home into her tight, pulsating pussy. She was wet, oh she was wet, like the ocean. As soon as I slid inside, she came in waves. Her undulations massaged my prick, and I started sliding in and out. I grabbed her hips and started pistoning, setting off sensations in both of us. She started gasping, little high-pitched spasms of air being forced from her lungs on each thrust.

"Oh! Oh yes, fuck your silly Jessi girl! Jessi is such a Barbie girl, such a slut! Cum inside your slutty plastic toy!"

With a grunt, I came, shooting ropes of cum inside her. She started cumming again, but I pulled out and spun her around.

"Clean it, slut. It's not about your pleasure. That is your pleasure."

She sobered up enough to drop to her knees and suck until I was clean. "Go clean off the carpet, you're a disgusting mess. And go take a shower and fix your face. I don't want you looking like garbage." She ran off to do my bidding. I went and got the paper and read some of the business articles.

Jessi reported back a half hour later with a giggle. The doorbell rang. "Right on time, Jessi girl. Go open the door." She leaped up, flashing her ass, and clacked over to the door on her five-inch pink jelly sandals.

"Hello, Henderson." I looked up from my paper.

"Hello Baderson."

"I didn't bring any money." Baderson was always right to the point.

"Like I said, this one is on the house, and she's worth more than your original purchase. Any future models you will be paying for."

"Yeah, yeah. Hurry it up, Molly's waiting in the car."

"Alright. Jessi Girl, show off for Mr. Baderson."

She giggled and did a 360, and then danced to the music in her head. She gyrated her hips, played with her nipples, and flashed her skeptical audience for a full two minutes.

"Ok," he said. He snapped his gum. "She looks ok. But let me tell you," he said, pointing at me with his beefy forefinger, "If this one goes berserk like that last one, you will be paying."

"I promise you, I tested her thoroughly. Nothing of the kind will happen this time. That other one was just a prototype." I didn't bother to point out that even he was not so stupid as to complain to an officer of the law about an inferior-quality live sex-toy. He had no power over me and he knew it.

"Ok girl, let's go." He snapped his gum again and started pulling on Jessi's arm. She resisted. "What the fuck do you mean, no problems? Is this some kind of a joke? Because if it is-"

I sighed. You would think he would know better by this time. "She has to be imprinted first."

"Oh yeah. How?"

"I'll do it." I turned to her. "Jessi Girl."

"Yes?"

"Do you see that man?"

"Yes."

"That man is Ken. Who is he Jessi Girl?"

"He's Ken. He's Ken!" she let out with a delighted shriek and clung to Baderson.

"She's all yours."

"Ok, if this one works out, I'll call you again in about a month."

I gave a nod.

"Come on Jessi Girl," he said.

"Oh Ken, of course, Ken! I'm all yours!" Jessi, the former brunette bitch from the South Street Mall, was now stuck like ABC gum to a balding stockbroker at least twenty years her senior, someone she would never have given the time of day to this very afternoon. All of that would be just a silly dream to her now.

Fru
Fru
38 Followers
12