Human Doll Ch. 04byStoryTeller07©
Bill hadn't seen Rose for some months. At a fund raising dinner they bumped into each other. He hardly recognised her. She looked as attractive as ever, and gave him a big smile.
"Hello, sir," she demurely said.
"Err, hello. How are you?" he asked. She looked well and had a contended look about her.
"I'm fine, very good in fact. I have often thought about that day we spent together," she quietly spoke.
"I'm sorry, I really am," he began.
"No! Don't be sorry. That moment led me to become, I mean, it made me discover something wonderful. I'm with Randal now," she told him, while nodding in the direction of her master. "I persuaded him to bring me here," she said, looking distant for a moment.
Bill noticed she spoke with a feminine, doll like voice. He saw that she was dressed like an exquisite doll, and became worried that the programming had permanently altered her thinking.
"I'm his special doll," she beamed at Bill. "I really am! I'm his dolly to play with, all the time. He looks after me so well. We play a delightful game at home. He really knows how to master me," she giggled.
"I wanted to thank you for liberating me. After you pretended to make into a doll, well, it made me think deeply about what I needed in life. I've got what I want now! I just wanted to thank you so much," she gushed, and grabbed him for a warm hug.
"Don't look like that! It isn't something you did wrong it's what I really want. I have never been so happy in my life. I wasn't suited to that job it made me mean and angry all the time. Now I am perfectly happy, really I am. Please, be happy for me, Bill," she implored him.
He smiled and hugged her back. What could he say? She was the most beautiful woman in the room. Unlike most of them she looked radiant, and so contented, she beamed a powerful light of happiness all around her.
"Randall is going to donate a huge amount to your fund. He is a very loving man and thinks the world of me. He's doing it out of respect of what you do, as well as a special thank you for giving me to him," she smiled.
Randall's contribution inspired others to give larger amounts than they intended. The experimental stage shifted gear into production, and Bill accepted she was right. He had nothing to regret over that moment of madness in the laboratory.
Reminiscing in his golden years, while recounting the story of how it all started, Bill unintentionally mentioned the episode with Rose. His grandson hadn't heard this story before, and quizzed him until the sordid story was revealed.
They chuckled over it, but he made David promise not to tell anyone.
"Little does anyone know this business is founded on a quick," he started to say.
"Hey! Enough of that young man. She was a fine lady and a generous patron," the old man fired at his young grandson.
"One day you will inherit all this," he murmured.
"What, that old easy chair and cushions?" David quipped.
Bill chuckled at the young man's irreverence. He was only eighteen and would soon learn that running a business brought heavy responsibilities. He just hoped the light heartedness wasn't swamped by problems and worry.
David was sitting on the sofa thinking deeply. The business, according to his father, was growing, though not making a huge profit. He sat there thinking about dolls and androids. A new branch of the business seemed a good way to put their good works on a sound footing.
"I know the arguments in favour of your product, so there is no need to reiterate them. I am here to see your factory for myself," Linda stated. As leader of the Moral Right party she was used to getting her own way. She had the habit of brow beat everyone into accepting her decisions.
"You haven't given us a chance to put our case forward. You simply brought your negative opinion along with you," David sighed. He was feeling old at fifty-four. He had seen off takeover bids, world recessions, countless other problems, and now this.
"What you are doing is wrong. It is as simple as that," Linda fiercely said, with a finger poking his chest, directly at his heart.
It might as well have been a knife. She was an important politician, with a predetermined opinion that couldn't be turned. She wouldn't even countenance a compromise.
"Since distributing these dolls a lot of good has been engendered, just look at the crime statistics," he implored.
"We are not going to agree on this point. Time is pressing, so I must go," Linda said, rising from the chair.
"Not so fast. Won't you at least listen to our arguments for continuing production," he sighed.
Linda was annoyed. She wanted him to accept the decision, and show her out. Even if he didn't accept it, she was ready to go. She watched him handling a remote control stick. She cringed at the thought of another boring film show. She had fallen asleep during the last one, the only time not wasted while there.
"Sit down please," David softly spoke.
"I am ready to go," Linda repeated, and was annoyed to have automatically sat back down. It was politeness that had her reluctantly sitting, when she wanted to leave.
"There is no point going over old ground, the decision has been made. It's final, and there is nothing you can say, or do, to change my mind," Linda firmly stated.
"You want to close the factory. I want to keep it open. Simple as you said. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures," he sighed. "They are a good way of teaching men how to treat a real woman," he again explained, while fiddling with the control stick.
He could see the look of boredom clearly expressed from the way she sat. She wasn't about to see reason, so he had to press on with the drastic plan. His grandfather, Bill had saved the very first project by using such a ruse. He made a business consultant think she had become a doll.
It was his grandfather's guilty confession that gave him this idea.
Bill's original factory was still manufacturing limbs and robotic body parts. They were used for accident and disease victims, to get them back to normal life. It was these doll's that kept it in production, as the factory wasn't self sustaining financially. If this one closed, there would be thousands of people unable to function normally, or worse.
David owed it to the memory of Bill to keep his inventions alive and kicking!
Linda tried to stand up, prepared to find her own way out of the building.
"I can't stand up. What have you done?" Linda asked. Her eyebrows were wrinkled in consternation. She had only caught a little of what he said, not bothering to listen to yet another set of excuses.
"It's not the chair, it's you. Or to be specific, it's you're brain," he stated.
Linda shivered from the way he looked at her. "What do you mean? Have you done something to me?" she asked, in a less determined voice than usual.
"Yes, I am afraid I have," he said, while fiddling with a controller. It was a pen like stick, with small buttons on the side. Several sections swivelled, as though the sections were being unscrewed.
"You can't. I won't allow it," she remonstrated, while trying to stand. Now she couldn't move her arms! Linda became frightened. She knew how advanced their technology was. She wrinkled her nose, confirming she had facial control.
"It's no good struggling. You are under the control of this," David said, holding up the pen. He couldn't look her in the eye. He looked shifty and uncomfortable. It wasn't true he was using a similar to a trick his grandfather had used, so many years ago.
Without knocking, a young man entered the office, interrupting the boss.
David looked relieved. "Are you sure about this, Nobel?" David asked.
"For sure, after all, what choice is there?" Nobel said, with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Come with me," Nobel told her. He was David's son, and had been introduced as the sales and marketing director.
Able to stand she felt better, until marching off behind the salesman. "Excuse me, is this the way out?" she asked. The calmness of her voice was far from the way she felt. A rising panic threatened to overwhelm her. From their brief conversation, and the way she responded to commands, it was all very alarming.
"Where are you taking me?" Linda asked. There was an unpleasant pleading tone in her voice.
"To the warehouse, where we finish off the dolls," Nobel explained, while they traipsed along.
"I've seen enough! I want to leave, I've got important things to do," she complained.
"You mean like close down a plant that manufactures a sophisticated, profitable product. This product has consistently reduced sex crime over the last two years. It helps finance replacement parts for injured people, so they can lead useful lives. You want to stop it, why?" he asked.
"Well, maybe we could talk about it," Linda suggested. She gave up trying to fight it, and continued following him. All she could do independently was talk, so she would have to reason with him.
"It's not my decision. I could try and influence the committee in your favour," she offered. The thought of artificial body parts was bad enough, but sex dolls were completely repulsive to her. Why should poor people have the same opportunities as important wealthy people? If they couldn't pay they should accept their lot in life.
They pushed through a door into a large workshop. The purpose built space was filled with robotic machinery. What was she supposed to make of it that could possibly influence the decision?
"You haven't noticed your new skin texture," he stated.
She looked at her arms, to see what he was referring too. "What have you done to me?" she gasped. It seemed a question too often repeated in the last ten minutes.
"Don't worry, it's not permanent. It will come off with the right treatment. It's a plastic skin used for burn victims. It's very thin, yet an exact replication of a doll's skin. On top of yours, it can be lot thinner than a dolls'. It has the same look and feel, as you will find out. Your skin can breathe through it so it won't be harmful," Nobel told her.
"Why? Why have you done this to me?" she asked, with a pronounced pleading in her voice.
"As David explained, it's to give you some, 'up close experience'," he smiled.
His expression wasn't comforting. Her normally adroit conversation dried up.
"Now then, let's take a look at how these new models are shaping up," he smugly told her.
Linda followed him across the floor weaving a way between machines. It took a moment or two to take it in, then the scene before her hit hard.
"Oh! No! What have you done!" she shrieked. She stared in horror at herself, lots of her, all lined up.
"They are, they're, dolls, they are me," she stuttered.
"We set up the template from photos of you. While you 'slept', we measured you and refined the template. So what do you think?" he smiled.
"Do you expect me to answer that? It's outrageous," she bitterly complained. An army of dolls confronted her. As chilling as it was, she couldn't look away. They were naked, so it was obvious how anatomically correct they were. It was embarrassing, as though she herself was naked.
"If you are thinking of blackmailing me with these things, you can forget it," she fiercely stated, trying to sound defiant. Her usual confidence had been knocked about too much. She found it difficult to comprehend what was happening.
"We have no need to do that. We've decided upon a different approach, something unique and hopefully more effective," he said. "They are correct in every detail as you can see. We took advantage to check every detail, while you were 'sleeping'. You were drugged of course," he shrugged, as though it were insignificant.
"Go join the other dolls," he ordered.
"No! I will not!" Linda bitterly stated. Even as she complained she marched over to join the rows of dolls. To her horror she had no option but fit into one of the rows.
There were twenty-nine of them and she had become number thirty. She found herself among them, looking exactly like one of them. It was chilling. When they marched toward a room, she followed, even keeping in step.
The two in front picked clothes off a hanger and began to get dressed. She undressed then copied them, until dressed as they were. In an about-face, they marched out again.
Linda looked around at the Linda dolls, cringing from embarrassment. There was no need to look in a mirror, for she was surrounded by twenty-nine exact duplicates.
She was wearing a frilly pink skirt, with a pink boob tube. With this plastic coating, her breasts looked bigger, and they also stood out without a bra. Being less saggy didn't mean she liked them. She wanted to scream at this terrible outrage. Instead she tried to remain calm.
They were sure to be filming this, and it wouldn't do to be shown ranting and raving, like a lunatic. Her public expected her to be a rational moralist. The call to close this disgusting factory down was a part of her campaign to change society.
They were producing dolls for men, and women, to play with. They were sex dolls! They had copied her image to manufacture sex dolls! They looked very accurate too. Her colouring, figure, and face, all had been perfectly copied. Damn them to hell!
They had her wearing this stupid outfit, especially designed to be embarrassing. It was bad enough seeing so many exact images wearing the ridiculous outfit. It was far worse to be wearing it. Standing helpless among the dolls was so infuriating it was hard not to scream at him.
"This is outrageous! You can't dress me up however you like. This skirt is indecent, it's far too short! I demand you give me back my clothes," Linda firmly stated.
"Don't you like pink? Everything is colour co-ordinated. Lift up the skirt and you'll see," Nobel smirked.
She lifted the skirt as ordered. "I don't need to see them, I put them on in the first place," she growled.
"If you don't like them, I'll get you to take them off," Nobel told her, while holding up the control stick.
"No! They are fine, just leave them on. Now you've seen them I can lower the skirt," she angrily stated.
"Don't you ever use polite conversation? Not a 'please' or a 'thank you' has passed those lips since you arrived," he said.
"Please, may I lower my skirt, please," she said, emphasising each 'please' with sarcasm.
"Lower your skirt, if it makes you feel any better," he smiled. "Best get on with the preparation," he said, while lifting the controller.
"What do you mean?" she squeaked. "My voice," she squeaked again. "What have you done to it?" she asked, in a girly, high pitched tone of voice.
"Any higher and it would be annoying. I think we have the voice just right. It sounds sweet and adorable, or at least that's what we aimed for," Nobel told her.
"I can't go around speaking like this. Please, put it back to how it was, please," she begged him. The plea sounded more giggly and fun than she meant it too. It was painful hearing her voice sound so pathetic. The strident tones of authority had evaporated, leaving a sweet little girly voice.
Damn! These were sex dolls, and would be distributed with this ridiculous voice. She would become a laughing stock. Not to mention the clothing. The anatomically correct body, under the nasty outfit, meant only one thing. Men would play with these dolls, as though they were her! They could do nasty, despicable things to a life sized image of her.
That was why this place must close. Despite what they said, it was disgusting, and denigrated women. What she couldn't understand was those foolish women disagreeing with her. The statistics might be correct, with rapes and sexual abuse way down, but this was still wrong.
Especially so, when her face and body was going to be used!
"Oh! No!" she yelped. Her face would be used by nasty men for their nasty ways. Speaking against the use of dolls like this wasn't going to convince anyone, for it sounded too pathetic to be taken seriously.
"Please, sir. Can I have my proper voice back? Please," she whined. It was a pitiful sound, leaving her feeling weak and vulnerable. The bastard was enjoying it!
"Please sir," she started to say, only to break-off the plea. Her voice was so pathetic it was difficult to continue. The words, 'please sir', sounded natural to it in a bad way.
"Each of you speak in turn," Nobel clearly stated.
"How may I serve you, master," the doll standing next to her asked.
She would have jumped in surprise, if she hadn't been so completely under his control. The voice was exactly the same as hers, or, hers was now the same as it.
"May I show you my lovely panties, master?" the next one asked.
One by one they asked permission to show off their body, or offered to demonstrate a lewd sexual skill. Linda was furious to be subjected to such disgusting language. She would have these two men arrested for kidnapping, and as many other charges that could be thought of.
She quietly fumed while waiting for the last of them to complete the revolting litany, of highly objectionable phrases. She could at least turn her head away from him and those repulsive objects. She was planning on turning the plant over to a party supporter, to produce useful automatons for industry.
Whatever happened, these humiliating Linda dolls would have to be destroyed.
"That's enough! Humiliating me is not going to work. I demand you release me. Right now," she squeaked. The statement didn't have the same authoritative ring to it. Yet it no longer mattered. Linda was beyond caring what she sounded like.
"What do you hope to achieve from this unpleasant demonstration?" she asked.
"This is the final test, before we release them onto the market. Body functions have already been passed," he smirked.
She didn't want to think about what that meant. "You have to release me, so do it now," she told him.
"Oh, I am surprised! Are you in a hurry to be released onto the market? That is encouraging. Can't wait to get out there, to serve your function!" he laughed.
"Don't be ridiculous. You have to let me go, so do it right now, or it will be prison for you," she stated.
"It's already gone beyond a joke," he mused. "The boss was reluctant, but I persuaded him to go along with it. Just the two of us will be held to account. I'm banking on you not wanting the truth to get out, once I've finished with you," he said.
He looked worried, which heartened her. She was about to push him further when a different thought occurred. He was worried about his plans for her. Not just this demonstration.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"This batch of dolls will be released onto the market. If they become popular, more will be manufactured. We have plenty of blanks, waiting to be moulded to your features and build. We will keep you out of the way, while these are sold. It will make it difficult for you to be taken seriously after that," he stated.
Linda looked even more worried, as it seemed they had a viable plan. "How will you stop me from blocking the distribution?" she asked. Linda was tense, with a nasty premonition about his answer.
"You will be controlled, like you are now. You'll be kept out of the way for as long as it takes. The best way to hide is in full view, right out in the open, for all to see," he said. It was a good plan, though now he wondered if they could actually carry it through.
"I'll shout and scream, until you are both hounded into oblivion," Linda ranted. Her voice was rising to a scream, until it suddenly cut off. For a moment it seemed she had run out of words of condemnation; which would have been a first. She took a few deep breaths, to regain some calm.
It was no good. She couldn't speak! The damn maniac had taken control of that too!