Tyler stomps through the puddles of the alley to the stairs of his loft apartment. The notification had come during the last few hours of work. An item delivered while he isn’t home. He grumbles while chewing on the beard under his lip. He has been waiting four months for it to arrive, and it couldn’t have come tomorrow when he did not have work. He skips over the largest puddle landing ankle deep in the pot hole that kept growing. A twenty minute downpour on his drive is just icing on the cake. Blind and slow, knowing that even if someone does not steal the box, it would be ruined by the rain.
The sodden box is still there, beside the grease dump from the restaurant below. The steel stairs are narrow and steep. The cardboard is sagging from the drenching. The plastic bands dig into the soft material leaving deep furrows. He sighs looking up the twenty foot ascent to the dark clouds above. Still threatening rain, he opts to not spend time finding a rope. He would use the muscles god gave him to haul the box up.
It is too large to wrap his arms around. Too soft to grab by one hand hold. Instead, he tips the box up and hauls it on his back. The plastic straps cut deeply into his palms leaving dark red marks. The brown water squeezed from the box is smelly and leaves stains in his work shirt. He staggers up the stairs on tired legs and sore feet. Ten hours at work and the night would not be over soon. The rain starts again just before he can get the keys in the door.
The power goes out just after dinner starts reheating in the microwave. He strips from the damp t-shirt stumbling around in the near darkness. A change of pants and cool beer from the fridge and he munches on cold leftovers while considering his life. He has been on his own for ten years and still nothing is improving. He still lives in the rundown space. Still eats the cheapest items on the menu. Still buys his furniture from second hand stores. His car is covered in more rust than paint. When rent comes due he buys groceries on credit, and when the credit bill comes he eats dry ramen.
It took him months to scrape up his savings to buy this box mattress. Tyler considers this box steaming in the humid air. The JYSM company that sells them promises guilt free purchases. Ecological shipping and manufacturing. It was the first real ‘adult’ purchase he could feel proud of. And it leaves a brown stain on the carpet.
Tyler looks around the room. The beat up old furniture and the nearly dead spider fern the only homely additions he could make. If the apartment were on wheels at least he could sit outside under a tarp and enjoy the rain. His life is only a hair above the red-necks and social trash he thought he looked down upon. The last girl he had brought here, had laughed before leaving. He sighs again. He might as well give in and start thinking of himself as the working poor he actually is. He could put up a motorsport poster, buy a neon beer sign, and openly stock his dvd shelf with the porn he pretends he does not own.
But first he decides to open his mail-order mattress. The cardboard comes apart in his hands. Bits of moist pulp fill a garbage bag along with the deflated air mattress. Thankfully the vac-packed foam rubber is in a thick plastic package. The rain only moistened the outside; he wipes it clean with a sock from his laundry hamper. The instructions say not to open with a knife, but a newly christened red-neck like Tyler does not read instructions. The retractable utility blade cuts through the binding straps with ease. Unrolling the creaking plastic on his bed frame is easy enough but he is sweaty as he unfolds the huge thing. Without the AC cooling, his half naked body sticks to the plastic as he rolls around on the crinkled surface in the dark.
He is about to cut into the vac-pack when the surge of electricity switches on the lights. The sudden noise from the window AC makes him jump. But seeing the squashed body under the plastic makes Tyler scream.
Mai triple checks around her, looking out for the factory head. In the factory it did not pay to be found doing something other than working. The overhead shadows obscured the walkways where the section heads like to snoop on the young women. The bright can lights leave spots when she looks away. It all seemed clear. Not even the camera that she ‘accidentally’ adjusted a few days ago had been corrected to watch her. It was today or never, she tells herself.
Scrolling through the task list on her work station she sees the upcoming orders through the day. JYSM employs hundreds of workers in the facility. Each one has to make their quota every day or they get reprimanded. Mai had been censured twice for working too slowly, the second time she got sent to the ‘recreation’ wing. She would not be found wanting again. Down the list she spies what she needs; someone named Tyler, half a world away wants a ‘Geslinen’ pillow-top double wide. Mai smiles, the right size and the right country. She does not know if Tyler is a male or female name in that country but she does not care.
She works quickly to get ahead of schedule. The orders flying along the conveyor before her. She shaves seconds here and there doing her job faster than ever before. Alright, maybe Anne in England gets the table without the screws; and Amir in America gets a lamp that is slightly broken. If Mai sticks around the complaints would eventually come back on her. If she were still here. She hits the button to advance the orders as quickly as it would allow. Until she can see the white rectangle coming down the chute. Her way out of this humid hell.
Carefully, she unzips the front of her tunic. Between the cheap fabric of her top and the soft flesh of her breasts she extracts the thumb sized vile of blue liquid. Where it came from or how it worked she did not know. All she cares about is what it does to her body. When they sent her to the recreation wing, they gave her two drops of the liquid, right on her tongue. The effects of the syrupy blue fluid had left her immobile for three days. She could not move, could not breathe, did not even feel her heart beating. She had become almost dead to the world, without feeling, without life, without resistance. Two drops, three days; a whole vial could keep her like that for months. Or kill her.
Tyler’s mattress arrives at her station. In the clatter of the factory she strips from the factory clothing. Leaving it all behind. She climbs onto the soft pillow top, folding her limbs to make herself fit. The vial held between her lips, she reaches out with her big toe to hit the button. Swallows the liquid as the pallet advances into the packaging machine. The tiny glass tube shatters on the floor never to be noticed. For better or worse Mai figures she is on her way to a new life.
The eyes were the most shocking part of the face. Lids open and looking out from under the plastic with a thousand yard stare. The mouth, open slightly in simulated ecstasy, the lips full and soft. The nose is tiny, little more than a stub, upturned and squashed flat by the thick plastic of the vacuum-bag. The limbs and torso are crinkled tubes of rubber twisted and folded upon themselves. Locked in place like rumpled clothing strewn over the bed carelessly. The black hair is cut short and seemed more real than Tyler would have expected for a blow-up sex-doll.
After the initial shock, Tyler has to laugh. He snaps a few photos of the prank pulled by bored factory jocks in some other country. Send a random dude a partner along with his new bed. It is so funny he almost wants to cry. Maybe if he complains to the right person at JYSM they would give him a rebate. He only hopes they wouldn’t want the mattress shipped back also.
Before cutting into the plastic, Tyler runs his hands over the trapped doll. The skin feels soft and pliable. A high-quality doll, he figures, one without seams and obvious painted on features. The only ones he had ever seen before, looked less like people and more like water toys. This one is made with care and attention to detail. A frozen hand ever so demurely covering its crotch even appears to have hard plastic nails on the delicate, thin fingers. He shivers to think what this doll may have gone through. No doubt there would be a huge rend in the back making it unusable and that is the reason for disposal by mail-order.
Tyler pulls the tab on the package, allowing the air to be drawn into the expanding foam. The bed moans like a monster regaining breath after being without for eons. He works quickly to pull the plastic film from the large expanding bed, bundling the creaking and snapping material into a ball. The doll, pressed flat in the pillow top rises also from the impression prison it had been in. Almost like dough rising in a bowl, the flat nature of the doll softens from the crinkled look of a used condom into a fresh suit to be worn. Its shiny plastic skin glistening in the low light almost like the candy coating on a sweet treat.
The smell of latex, chemicals and oil fill Tyler’s nose with memories of birthdays when he got new things to play with. The rubber tires of his first bike. The scent of fresh leather on his baseball glove. Or the scent of fresh new shoes to go back to school. The doll and the bed mix in his senses, a feeling of promise and fresh hope. He is surprised to find his dick hardening as he watches the doll flop around as it regains a bit of form. If he is reborn to a life where he does not care about social images, he might as well think about this gift from the JYSM workers.
The doll is limp in his hands as he folds and handles it. The limbs waggle as he inspects it for stains or ruptures. His hand brushes a hard bit of rubber and he finds a nipple. The thick and heavy teat feels supple between his fingers, almost real, and yet somehow more fun to play with. The breasts are collapsed and pleated around the hard caps of the nipples, fun sacks that he wonders about. Between the legs he finds the sleeve for his manhood. It is open and waiting between soft mounds of firm silicone. Plunging his fingers in deep he feels only soft stretchy latex.
The face is crushed like a rubber mask. He forms it around his fist to get a better look at the sculpt. The cheeks are wide but round and high, the chin pointed. The eyes seemed to be folded in a way that perhaps under pressure, they would open and close in a simulation of life. Creepy and yet impressive in a way. The mouth, too, is ringed by thick soft lips sculpted in silicon. They look a shade deeper than the glossy artificial colour of the body. The shine playing over them almost like lip-gloss of a model in a commercial. He holds himself back from kissing her. The sleeve beyond the soft rubber teeth is deeper than he can probe with his fingers.
The doll is clean and unused as far as Tyler can tell. A perfect flat-packed companion to start a new bed off right. Turning the doll over he finds the valve between its shoulders. A heavy hard rubber form with an unusual closure. It would not allow him simply to breathe into it. After a thought he remembers the adaptors for the pump that went with the discarded air mattress. In the closet he finds the old box, an assortment of plastic bits and nozzles he never thought he would use but refused to toss. One seems to fit perfectly and Tyler starts to work with the pump.
As tired as his muscles were, he takes to the task of inflating the doll with gusto. Slowly as the air enters the doll, the figure starts to form. The toes and fingers curling and uncurling with each pump as if responding to the movement. The hips widen and fill out. The breasts rise up and up further, swelling as the stretchy rubber skin bloats with air. The face too comes to life. The eyes open slowly like Sleeping Beauty aroused from simulated death. The mouth opens just so responding to the kiss of her saviour knight. The whole naked body of the doll shines brilliantly, almost magically, as the skin tightens. Tyler keeps pumping until he hears the squeal of the pressure regulator, the doll is full.
He removes the hose from its back, laying the doll’s head on the pillow. He needs a rest and another beer before he can continue. Now, intact and full the doll almost seems alive. He smirks at the doll, aware that he should not feel this happy about a tool for self-pleasure. But the gift of a flat-packed woman lightens his heart.
Then the doll blinks and focuses its eyes on him. The mouth opens a little wider, twisting into a sultry smile. The snap of latex skin as the doll starts to move is covered only by the animalistic moan of desire coming from the lush, sexy mouth.
The blue fluid sticks in her mouth, freezing Mai’s tongue as she chokes it down. She quickly bats the vial away hearing it shatter on the floor above the thrum of the pneumatic conveyor. The fluid hits her nerves quickly slowing her body in heartbeats. Time seems to slow. She cannot close her eyes as the cloud she rides moves under the machine sky.
The magic flows through her body. Gripping her heart and stopping her breath. Her back arches suddenly. A heat pulsing from her loins. Filling her body with energy and tension. As if every muscle wants to take part in the orgasmic moment. Her hand reaching for her privates, slows as her fingers curl around the delicate mounds. It wasn’t supposed to feel this good.
The women in the bunks would whisper at night. The fluid they named many things: gold, by one; the Devil Seed, by an old Catholic Crone; or the Little Death, by a western girl named Josie. The foremen loved to punish Josie. She had no reason to be in the country, and somehow wound up in the factory. Her pale European skin and golden hair turned glossy and plastic looking time after time. Josie had said the effects linger longer and are more intense with repeated dosing. Mai had gasped in awe as the woman’s large chest would compress like stress balls only to rebound. The longest residents of the women’s bunk house had stories of workers that never returned from the recreation wing.
She watches as the plastic film bag enshrouds the mattress over her open eyes. She can feel the delicate warm touch of the plastic as it folds around her still form. Panic grips her mind as she feels the bag grips her nose and covers her mouth. Her last breath draws it sticky to her face. Her heart seems to stop when she feels the shudder of the machine as it cuts and seals the bag. The potion, working fast, had to out pace the packer. She can feel her skin grow tight and tighter. Her hand on her naked belly becomes slick and smooth as the vacuum draws out the air.
Crushing pressure suddenly folds the thick plastic to her face, body and limbs. Even if she could move, the grip against her body would have prevented it. The weight increases as the foam compresses folding around her. She moans loudly as if being crushed under the body of a lover. Packed tight against the soft pillow, until her rubbery body gives up the ghost. Her form collapses flat, the trapped air venting from her breasts, belly and limbs. She could feel parts of her body touching in ways that would not have been possible. And now, even moaning for release is denied Mai.
The package is folded in half. Creaking plastic held by strong metal arms bent and rolled until plastic straps hold everything tightly in a ball. Mai cannot see. Only stars filter through the cracks of the plastic to her still eyes. Then as the box is folded around and sealed tight, darkness. She tries to move and the thought does not even form. Only the touch of the pillow and the grip of the plastic give her sensation. A strong vibration, she might feel. A period of cold, once. For a long duration she hears and feels nothing but the comforting touch of her rubber hand on flat belly and plastic fingers pinching her hard nipples.
She tries to keep calm. Running through memories. The plots of movies or books she recalled. She did the math a thousand times. Two drops equal three days. Ten drops per millilitre. Five millilitres in the vial. Twenty-five doses, seventy-five days. Six to eight weeks delivery is sixty days. Even with a delay she would be human again soon. Time passes without a marker. If she sleeps, she dreams of being folded up like a cheap doll. An unending waiting of darkness and tightness and quiet.
And intense unending pleasure. Her skin so soft could feel the rub of plastic. The grip on her lips was like a kiss that would not go away. The tease on her mound a gentle pressure like sexy underpants just waiting for a lover to strip away. The constant buzz of the potion leaving her mind to race again through the plots of stories she knew. Only Mai imagines her as the heroine. A gallant warrior come to free the lovely princess, who is made of plastic and then they fuck. The questing woman, traveling to a new world where magic turns her into a rubber woman and she gets to fuck, a lot. And just when she starts to wonder what would happen if she became human again inside the package, light returns to her world.
She can see his face through the distortion of the plastic. Her gallant knight, first frightened then jovial. It did not matter to Mai, that he hid his strong chin with a beard. Of that his nose looked rather long and bent. She likes his hands as they trace over her crushed body. Electrifying touches that spark through her body bringing the dead back to life. The rush of air that gives her hope for being filled with breath again. He works hard with the pump to build again that halted feeling started so long ago as she lay naked in the factory. The construction of an orgasm that had lasted months is within her grasp when her knight pauses before kissing the sleeping princess.
Mai feels the potion tingle through her body as if forced by the will of her mind. Her eyes blink. She forces the rubbery lips into a smile. Reaching for his shoulder with an air-filled hand and calling to him to finish the work his strong hands had started.
Tyler reflexively jumps away from the doll. Slipping from the bed he lands on his butt, rolls to his back and finds a hard surface giving him a tap on the crown of his head. Leaping to his feet the room spins. The unreality of the situation, the alcohol, the heat all combining to make him feel he had fallen into a strange dream.
The doll puts hand to mouth in mock laughter. Its shiny skin is folding like a real body at the elbow and wrist. It crawls forward on the bare bed on hands and knees like a playful pet, waggling its round bottom. Tiny highlights, reflecting the many tiny sparks in the room, outline her smooth skin with dancing patterns. Hypnotic motions that drew his eyes to soft round curves and the sensuous movements they make. Her body is a fluid invitation to debauchery.
He checks his mind, shaking the thought around. When did the doll go from an ‘it’ to a ‘her’? The eyes peering out from under the mess of stringy hair watching him fight for control. The doll advances again, almost crawling off the bed. It catches the fall when one slippery hand goes over the soft edge of the pillow top. Tyler notices that its light, air-filled body barely depresses the surface. A stiff breeze could probably toss her across the room. Still he backs away from the animated doll until she trips into the pile of junk he never tossed away.
In simulated patience, the doll seats itself on folded legs. The air moving through its hollow body seemed to make hips and bust bulge with added volume. The open mouth is a lush, sultry smile. The rubber woman seemed to fade into almost human traits. Even the eyes had become somewhat more human, with a keen wet shine and focussed interest in him. If Tyler could believe in the magic required to transform a living person into a masturbation aide, he might consider that a mind is behind the movements. Instead he jumps to his feet brandishing the weapon that found its way into his hand.
The leather belt lashes forward several inches too short to make contact. But the doll’s eyes widen in understanding. It recoils enough to roll back onto its soft behind. The legs snap straight in popping latex snaps. Tyler brandishes the broken leather strap like a whip. Never connecting with shiny skin only hitting himself on the leg. The blows making him dance and yell. The doll giggles. Shuddering, waves that make her skin vibrate. The laugh evolves into a moan as the naked form starts to writhe in near ecstatic joy. With the doll distracted, Tyler leaps forward.
Crossing rubber wrist over wrist, he ties a knot with the thick belt, pulling tighter and tighter until latex collapses into a tight ball. The fingers seem to stretch open, forced longer with inflated tightness. But the attempt at capture only results in Tyler stepping between the doll’s legs. A pincer movement and the feet lock at his back holding him in place. His throbbing hot member presses firmly against her silicon mound. The doll smiles starting to buck and pulse her hips against his pants encouraging him to hit her with a better weapon. Tyler fights back taking her stiff nipples in his fingers. Groping, pinching and fondling the inflated orbs of her breasts until the doll swoons. Her legs losing control snap open again, inviting him to take her.
Tyler steps back for a moment. The scent of latex in his nose, the feeling of soft breasts in his hands combine to bypass the frontal lobe of his brain. All those neurons that would have put guilt or reason before passion are bypassed by a deep need to satisfy a lover. His pants fall around his ankles as his manhood points the way. The doll squirms on her back encouraging the saviour knight to claim his prize. Tyler steps forward sheathing his sword deep and true.
It comes fast and eagerly. Pent up, repressed, and denied for so long, the pair make short work of one another. The doll voices screams that combine with the latex squeak of her body. Thrashing and squirming with a release that is too intense to be fake. Her air filled body, welcoming and pliable, folds around him with a sticky grip that works to enhance his member making it feel larger and harder than ever. The latex giving and taking as if designed to bring both to a quick climax. Tyler explodes with an intense feeling of desire that causes the doll to shudder. The force of his release could have tossed her light body, if her rubber legs were not holding him tightly.
As the repose causes him to sink forward upon the squishy woman a delicate kiss from her perfect mouth touches his cheek. A wain smile is all he can do in return. Fumbling he loosens the makeshift shackles, before sinking onto the soft pillow. As he starts to black out, he hears a breathy voice in his ear. One word from the doll, “Thanks.”
While the man sleeps, Mai removes herself to the bathroom. A shower and soap to cleanse the sticky residue of being mailed. In the mirror her slippery body glistens brightly. Her reflection is not what she expects. Her face seems youthful and young, the worry lines and pock marks of a hard life are gone. The permanently open mouth would close if she tries but it parts sexily at rest. Her hair, once clean, gleams with plastic intensity. She wonders if it would ever grow again. A funny thing to worry about when one finds oneself an ambulatory sex-doll.
Her body is new. Reborn for sex, the limbs want to snap straight. The torso bends and twists in ways that are more balloon animal than human. Her tiny waist and rounded bottom make a delightful shape. Her breasts mash and rebound with rubbery playfulness. She almost thinks they are larger in the heat of the moist bathroom air. Only the ever-stiff nipples have a hint of reality. She brushes a finger over the hard nubs, the wave of intense pleasure makes her legs go rubbery.
Twisting she can just see the hard rubber air valve on her back. Mai is unable to reach the device. She would be helpless to manipulate it. Reliant on whomever wishes to inflate or deflate her to do so. Tyler could easily hold her down and force the air from her body leaving her a crushed, waiting toy. Mai is shocked that this thought does not make her instantly worry about her safety. She did not want to go back into the box, but the thought of this power over her freedom somehow did not seem so bad.
She found an old sports jersey on Tyler’s clothing piles. Its unknown logo pulled taught over her bountiful breasts, and the length just down her round bottom makes a temporary dress. She wiggles through the apartment on light squeaky feet. Exploring this new world and counting his many treasures as she goes. A wide screen tv with a cabinet of media, window air conditioner, a shower with endless hot water, a full kitchen with food stores, a common room larger than the bunk she shared with four other women. Tyler even had keys to a personal vehicle. Sure, she muses, the walls are bare and bland. No matter the country, boys are all the same. This massive space simply needed the touch of a woman. Even the nearly dead spider plant on the window sill just needed a little care to bring it back to fruitful life.
Mai’s hand brushes the curtain back to peek out on the world beyond. The street is quiet but rows of cars on the pavement and lines of buildings suggest peaceful life. A recent rain had washed the asphalt to a glossy shine looking new. Just up the street she could see lights of a restaurant with a patio seating area. Young couples gossip and enjoy one another’s company. She wants to go down to them, talk and make new friends. She leans a little further trying to see more clearly.
Her hollow head deforms on the cool glass. An odd feeling. She pushes back, placing a rubber hand against the glass. She can see her reflection on the glass, shiny and artificial. She could not go out there looking like this freakish thing. But she did not know how long the potion would remain in her body. Perhaps the overdose had left her stuck in this form for good. If that were the case then she is nothing more than a sex toy for the kind man to free her from the prison of her old life.
As if on cue she hears the heavy foot falls of Tyler behind her. Turning, her thighs squeak rubbery against each other. He looks so big and strong, as if made of steel, a knight to protect the vulnerable balloon woman. Mai smiles, making up her mind to be thankful that she is so lucky to land in his grasp. She extends her other hand toward her new keeper. “My name is Mai. I belong to you, Tyler.”
She can see his mind work through a few obvious questions. He steps forward to take her hand in his. The hollow rubber, compressing in his strong, warm grip. He pulls her away from the window, plunging the room into darkness. She can feel that his nakedness responds to her body with growing need. So long as she can keep him happy, he would never put her away.
“Are you alive? I mean, were you alive, or real? Were you a real person? How is that possible?” His mind is working too fast to form a clear thought. He pulls her into a hug, mashing her soft body against his hard on.
“I don’t know,” Mai says weakly. She did not know. Alive or reborn into the form of a sex-toy, seemed as good an explanation as any. Her hands roam his back, stroking and playing on his muscles. “But if you want to keep me, I will be yours.”
“Are there others like you?” His voice is raw, as he plants a kiss on her forehead.
“There were other girls at the factory. Although they were not dolls, if that is what you mean. If anyone finds out how I escaped, then maybe in the future there will be more.”
“Escape? As in you were a slave?”
“I am sure they were paying me, but I never saw any of that. We couldn’t leave and,” she chokes off before explaining the treatment she wanted to forget. Gripping his butt, she wiggles her rounded body against his. “Never mind that. Do you want to have me again? I belong to you now.”
He releases her and steps back. “I do want you, Mai. I never felt anything like I do with you. But I cannot keep you as a slave.”
Tyler walks to the door of his apartment. The heavy sounding deadbolt clicks with a sound that Mai is sure she would not have the strength to open on her own. The door is opened to the outside. Beyond the cool night air is fresh with dew and sweet smells of food. The noise of a city echoes with the promise of life. A new start is just outside that open door. A light breeze trickles over the floor to wrap around Mai’s legs. The gust almost lifts her from the floor. Tyler’s naked body is outlined by the diffuse light in the air. As he turns, his long spear is held firm and proud out from him.
He leaves the door open as he walks toward the bedroom. “Mai, I will not force you to stay. You can leave whenever you want.”
The woman knows it to be true. Her new body snaps as she considers the options. Buoyant with hope, she wonders if she has entered some magical dream. Free to choose, she bounces on light feet to the open door taking in the world outside. She is not sure if the effects of the potion would ever wear off. Or if the intense pleasure she experiences as a doll is a permanent feeling now. But while the changes remained so too would Mai with Tyler, her keeper. The door shuts as if on its own. The Doll bounds after the Man.