This story deals with various aspects of abduction, slavery (actual, not role play), intense humiliation, autoeroticism, exhibitionism, and hair removal or shaving.
IF YOU FIND SITUATIONS DEALING WITH NON-CONSENSUAL SEX AND SLAVERY UNAPPEALING, PLEASE
STOP NOW!
If, however, you can continue with an open mind, and read this as it is meant to be, a work of complete fiction...
Enjoy!
Saphhia
Chapter Twelve
The room that Penny had been moved to was really little more than a container. It was one of many, stacked in two rows, where other 'dolls' were being kept awaiting their sale. It had been nearly a week since she had been released from the medical facility, and she had yet to become accustomed to her new form.
Even though all of her alterations were troubling to her, the most awkward to get used to were her absolutely ridiculous breasts. Literally the size of bowling balls, they managed to inject themselves into nearly everything she did. During meals, they prevented her from pulling close to a table, forcing to eat from her plate at arm's length.
Her plasticized skin was almost frightening to look at, but other than its appearance, acted no differently than she remembered her normal skin. Her removable teeth were to be removed every night, as would any denture, and placed in an ultrasonic cleaning tray. They didn't resemble her real teeth at all, as perfect as they appeared.
Too perfect,
she thought.
Thankfully, the staff at this factory, which is exactly what it was, were kind enough to have excluded a mirror in her room. Penny knew that if there was one, she would have spent all too much time mourning the loss of herself in its reflection.
The food she was forced to eat was quite different and contained some form of shiny substance. She assumed that it was to do with the maintenance of her skin. They all ate together at a table set up in front of the containers. All of the other dolls were female, but not all were as she was. Some had hair, some didn't, some had crazy alterations as she had, and some were quite modest. She guessed that each of them were to meet some sort of model code. There were six dolls with the same modifications as hers, and each sported a similar number embossed on the back of their neck. Penny knew her number to be 36361, and each of the others in her group all had numbers beginning with 36. The other 'models' were coded differently.
At the end of each day, which consisted of training, in every form of sexual pleasure she could imagine, they were each placed inside their containers. The maintenance module would extend from the wall, where she would be allowed to use the facilities, and deposit her teeth. The outlandish makeup that she had assumed to be just that, was actually permanently dyed into the polymer of her skin.
That particular evening, there was a break in the routine she had become somewhat accustomed to. Where a moderately comfortable bed would normally have folded down from the wall, there now sat a reclining chair. At first, she was hesitant to sit in it, not knowing if this was in preparation for some new modification. Eventually however, she grew fatigued and as there was nowhere else to go, sat reluctantly in the sleek recliner.
As soon as her flesh touched the plastic of the chair, she was encased in a rubberized sheath from the neck down, holding her firmly to the surface of the recliner. Penny panicked, fully expecting an entourage of technicians to come filing into her room. No one ever came.
Aside from being slightly warm, the rubber sheath was not uncomfortable. And so, 36361 slipped into the night, confident that the morning would bring the same routine as always.
Allison wept for her Mistress, as the gruff dermatologist worked to remove her hair. Unlike her own, Asha's hair was thicker and more painful to remove. Ms. Carter seemed to delight in the discomfort she was causing Asha, who remained stoic throughout the entire session.
Allison's session was much quicker, as this was her third, and the remaining hair was nearly non-existent. Asha watched closely as the woman skimmed over the surface of Allison's scalp, the ghostly blue light doing its worst.
As the Ms. Carter packed her gear, Marga came into the room and spoke to her quietly.
"But that is too soon. I could damage her skin." The woman complained. Marga stood with her arms crossed, until she relented. With that, Marga left us. Allison was applying the cream to Asha's scalp as Ms. Carter left. "It seems your Mistress is insistent that I complete your depilation within a month. You..." she pointed a slender finger at Allison. "...are nearly done. But you, it may be trying for you, but I promised your Mistress that you will be done, so, you will be done." Closing the door behind her, it left Asha a bit teary.
"My cousin means to tear me down, piece and piece, I'm afraid." She sulked. Already her skin was recovering, unlike Allison's, which remained red for days. "You see, she has always thought of me as this untouchable royal. Now that she will have free reign, I am frightened by what she may hold in store for me."
"Don't be afraid, Mistress..."
"You must not call me that, Allison. For now, let us be equals in our servitude to my cousin." Asha insisted.
"I you wish, Asha." Allison pulled in and gave her a very wet and sensuous kiss, eliciting an electric response.
"I have always loved you... Allison."
"As I have loved you." Allison squeezed Asha, their naked skin slick from the pain they had just endured. "I'm not certain what Marga will have for us today, but until there is something specific, you should accompany me for my duties."
They returned to Allison's quarters, where they each donned livery suitable for their station. Allison could sense that there was a certain amount of discomfort associated with the clothing Asha was wearing. "I think you might be more comfortable naked." Allison smiled. "But, Elise would not hear of it, I'm afraid."
"Elise?"
"Elise is my superior, and yours as well, if I know Marga. She will want you to know the condescension as I have. Elise is mean, cruel even. Sometime, I will tell you what she once did to me." Allison said, warily.
"I'm almost afraid to know." Asha followed Allison out into the house, proceeding to the kitchen, where she would surely have some menial task assigned to her.
"You. You're a bit late luv." The very British cook exclaimed.
Alison ran her hand over her glassy smooth scalp. "Dermatologist."
"Baldy." The woman mocked, running her wet fingers over both their heads. "Who's your friend?"
Not having decided on a name, and certain the use of her real name was a bad idea, Allison just shrugged. "Mistress has not given her name."
"Well, then. I s'pose you can just tag along and give 'baldy' an 'and for today." The woman smirked. "Elise wants you to clean out the, well, the rooms in the basement again today."
Allison nodded, and slipped out of the kitchen with Asha in tow. "I have to clean these hideous rooms at least twice a week." Allison complained. "I think Elise enjoys knowing that it is the lowest and most unpleasant job in the house."
"And that is why it is our place to clean them." Asha added.
The basement was as dark and dreary as ever, as they reached the bottom of the long staircase. No one guarded the place that day, and so Allison knew that there was no one imprisoned there.
"These look like the cells in my brother's prison house." Asha commented.
"That's because they are cells. When I first arrived, I was kept down here." Allison didn't elaborate on the depths of depravity she sunk to that night.
"I hate to think of you in one these dark places." Asha opened the door to one of the rooms and turned her nose up at the smell.
"They stink. No matter how much I scrub or clean, they end up this way. It makes me wonder if they're being used more than I know." Allison opened the wet sink room and began removing her livery.