Chapter Two

Stepping into the glass-and-steel lobby of BioSynth Technologies, Deborah Duvall felt a suffocating weight settle in her chest, as if the air mocked her new reality. She had stepped through these halls a thousand times before, but never like this, never like Dee Dee.

The tight white blouse strained against her exaggerated, enhanced 34DD breasts, the fabric clinging so closely it outlined every curve of her transformed second skin body. The latex miniskirt rode up her thighs with every cautious step, forcing her to move with deliberate care to avoid exposing more than she already was. Black stockings adorned her hairless legs, the lacy hem visible an inch below her tight skirt, the hold-up suspenders hiding beneath the latex material, and she pranced on black 5-inch patent black stiletto heels.

Deborah’s platinum blonde hair cascaded in unnaturally perfect waves down her back. Her bright blue eyes, unnaturally wide and vacant, darted nervously, scanning the bustling corporate space for familiar faces that might see through her disguise. The synthetic skin that she had mistakenly trapped onto herself gripped her body like a cage, the ‘Property of BioSyn’ tattoo above her pussy that Miles had accessorized her with burned as a constant reminder of her degradation.

Worst of all, the executive’s voice had been altered by her rival moments before she entered the building, and now carried a high-pitched, ditzy tone that turned every word into a silly imitation of her former tone, stripping away the authoritative presence she’d spent years cultivating as the head of the Medical division. The blackmailed executive forced a smile, her obscene porn-star-caliber lips trembling, desperate to maintain her cover as “Dee Dee”, the AI office companion, and survive the next few days until Miles installed an unlocking mechanism to the prototype she was trapped in.

As she navigated the lobby, Deborah’s heart pounded with a mix of rage and fear, her stilettos clicking sharply against the polished floor, each step a reminder of her forced transformation. The blonde adjusted her posture, trying to minimize the sway of her hips, but the tight skirt and heavy breasts made every movement feel like a performance for the employees around her. She was caught between a rock and a hard place. While she wished to limit her humiliation as much as possible, she knew she needed to play the part of those brain-dead companions to avoid detection. The executive’s mind raced, replaying Miles’ cruel grin and the moment he’d locked her into this synthetic prison, stripping away her identity as a respected scientist.

Jared Clark, the AI secretaries’ supervisor and handler, and one of Miles’s closest friends, stood near the reception desk, his sharp navy suit covering his broad frame and his dark eyes gleaming with delight as he admired his newest charge. “Well, damn, Dee Dee,” he said sleazily as he approached the undercover secretary, his gaze lingering on her tightly clad curves. “You’re definitely the most fuckable toy I’ve ever had under my command. Miles really outdid himself when he designed you.” The man’s words dripped with disgusting perversion as he leaned closer, his breath warm against the trapped woman’s ear.

Deborah’s insides twisted with revulsion, but she forced her lips into a wider smile, her ditzy voice betraying her fury with a saccharine lilt that made her want to vomit. “Thank you, Mr Clark,” she said with a high-pitched enthusiasm she had seen the genuine secretary dolls use before. “I’m programmed to please, sir.” The words felt like poison. However, Miles had briefed her on what was expected of the AI companions and warned her that deviating from the company’s expectations could end badly for her.

The secretary supervisor chuckled with a low, predatory tone and gestured toward a crowded workstation where a row of AI companion secretaries sat, their identical white blouses and latex skirts mirroring her own, their vacant smiles and fluid movements a haunting reflection of her forced role. “Alright, Dee Dee, let’s put that pretty body to work,” Jared said condescendingly. “You’ll handle data entry, scheduling, and coffee runs—basic tasks for a doll like you. I’m sure you’ll handle it.” He grinned as he allowed the undercover companion to take her seat at her new station. “I’ll come check on you in a couple of hours,” the man added with a smirk, his eyes locked on Deborah’s enhanced breasts as he turned away.

Settling at the workstation, Deborah gripped the tablet she had been handed with her glittery pink nails, their length making every tap clumsy and deliberate. The tasks seemed simple, especially for an intelligent scientist like Deborah—typing meeting notes, updating executive calendars, guiding guests to their appointments—but her human instincts betrayed her, clashing with the robotic precision of the AI companions seated around her.

The blonde had mistyped a meeting time, her fingers fumbling as the dumb voice in her throat muttered a squeaky “Oopsie!” that drew curious glances from the human employees walking around past her station. The executive’s heart raced as she tried to correct it, only to delete an entire calendar entry by mistake. The other secretaries continued working seamlessly as if the undercover doll wasn’t messing everything up around her.

Later on, the blonde misrouted a guest to the wrong office, the CFO having to apologize on her behalf after she misread the instruction notes and spent 25 minutes attempting to guide the bemused man. Deborah’s heart pounded harder with each mistake, the fear of failing clawing at her insides. She knocked over a coffee cup while attempting to deliver it to a nearby desk, the dark liquid splashing across essential documents.

Midway through the morning, Jared returned, his arms crossed and his sleazy smirk replaced by a stern expression that sent a chill down her spine. “Dee Dee, what the hell is wrong with you?” he asked sharply, looking through the list of her endless errors on his tablet. “I’ve never seen a companion doll screw up like you. I congratulated Miles on his design this morning, but you are clearly defective.” His tone dripped with disappointed condescension, his dark eyes scanning her as if she were a sexy, broken toy, not a person.

Deborah’s chest tightened with panic, her mind reeling from Jared’s harsh words, but she forced her obscene lips into a wider smile. Miles had told her that these ‘dolls’ smile at all times, no matter the situation. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Clark,” she said apologetically. “I’ll try harder, I promise.” She kept her eyes wide and vacant, her smile fixed to avoid blowing her cover.

Jared raised his eyebrow, not used to an AI doll apologizing in that manner. “This isn’t good enough, Dee Dee,” he told her firmly. “You’re not performing up to secretary companion standards. I’m sending you to the testing lab for a checkup—they need to figure out why you’re so useless.” He tapped a command into his tablet, scheduling the appointment with the testing lab. The supervisor pointed to the elevator with a dismissive wave. “Get going. They’re waiting for you.”

Deborah’s eyes drew downcast as she headed toward the elevator. She had been undercover at BioSynth for less than four hours, and she had already blown it. Humiliated, in her tight white blouse and latex miniskirt, she tottered her way towards the testing labs, a daunting task that promised to deliver further torment.

❖

Knocking lightly on the door of the BioSynth testing lab, Deborah felt her heart pound with dread. She had no idea what awaited her on the other side of the door, but she knew that if she failed the test, her disguise would be over before it even began. The door swung open, and Dr. Alvin Hamill, a former colleague from Deborah’s medical team, stood before her, his lanky frame in a white lab coat and his brown eyes narrowing with a familiar lecherous glint.

Once a promising scientist in Deborah’s division, Alvin’s crude advances and inappropriate comments led to his transfer to the maintenance department, a demotion Deborah had instigated and supported. Now, as he looked the blonde up and down, his gaze lingering on the not-so-subtle curves of her breasts, he didn’t recognize her as the executive he’d once pursued. To him, she was just “Dee Dee”, a potentially defective AI companion.

“Well, well, Dee Dee, is it?” he said with a smirk. “Come on in. Let’s see what’s wrong with the pretty toy.”

Deborah’s stomach twisted with revulsion, but she forced a vacant smile, her ditzy voice ready to comply to avoid blowing her cover. “Yes, Dr. Hamill,” she said sweetly, stepping into the white-walled lab, the click-clacking of her heels tottering on the tiled floor echoing around the room. She could feel the doctor’s gaze on her transformed, slutty body, and she fought the urge to snap back at the man.

Alvin gestured to an examination table in the center of the room. “Strip, Dee Dee,” he commanded casually, his eyes locked on her curves. “We need to see what’s malfunctioning with you, and that won’t be possible with all those clothes covering you up.” His tone carried the same crude entitlement she’d endured for months on her team before she finally got rid of him. Her mind screamed to retort, to remind him of her authority, but she couldn’t give herself up like that. With a resigned sigh, the busty blonde peeled off her blouse and skirt, leaving her in just her black bra, g-string, stockings, and heels, her bronzed skin exposed under the lights.

“Everything off,” Alvin said with a raised eyebrow, his voice firm and impatient. Deborah internally groaned, but she had no choice. She hated the sight of her new sexualized body. She especially despised the thought of parading it in front of a perverted jerk like her former colleague. Still, she knew a companion wouldn’t refuse such an order.

Swallowing her pride, Deborah unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor, before slipping off the thong and stepping out of her heels, leaving the stockings last. Finally, she stood before him, her naked body in plain view, the ‘Property of BioSynth’ tattoo just above her pussy proudly displayed, dehumanizing the medical chief.

“Now sit on the table,” the man in the white coat instructed, and Deborah complied immediately. She avoided eye contact with the man as she sat in position, exposed and vulnerable, not even able to use her arms to cover up her breasts and bare pussy as she knew the act would raise suspicion.

“Let’s start with a simple intelligence test,” Alvin said, picking up a clipboard. “Recite the alphabet backwards. Should be easy for an AI toy like you.” Deborah hated his patronizing rhetoric, but simply nodded, her high-pitched voice squeaking as she began, “Z, Y, X…” Unlike the artificial intelligence drones, Deborah couldn’t recall from a storage bank, and she hadn’t prepared for the task. She did well until she got to the tenth letter, mixing up Q and P, and she froze. It became a disaster after that as the vision of her previous mistake seared into her mind. Alvin raised an eyebrow, jotting notes with a smirk. “Interesting,” he muttered mockingly.

“Now lie back and hang your head over the edge,” the doctor said, setting the clipboard down. Deborah’s heart raced, her instincts screaming for her to ignore him, but she complied as an AI would, lying back on the table with her head dangling, the room upside-down from her vision.

Alvin approached her with a long plastic tube, and her eyes widened as she recognized it, an extremely long double-ended dildo. “Open wide, Dee Dee,” he said, and before she could even consider protesting, he inserted it into her mouth.

Deborah muffled a cry, her eyes watering as he slowly pushed it further, testing how far she could accommodate. He slid it to the back of her mouth, pushing to force the executive to open her throat, sliding it further down. At 10 inches, the blonde convulsed, gagging violently, but the man ignored her, pressing further until it slid down 12 inches. Deborah continued to gag, more frequently, which prompted the man to stop, noticing her entire body shaking. Alvin noted her reaction with a raised eyebrow and jotted down his results, leaving the dildo lodged in the transformed woman’s throat.

“Stay put,” Alvin ordered the gagged blonde, moving to the other side of the table where her legs were positioned. He spread her legs wide, securing her ankles and wrists with steel cuffs that snapped magnetically to the table, immobilizing the woman and leaving her vulnerable. “Mmpphh!” she muffled out, sensing danger.

Deborah’s muffled protests were incoherent as the man gently ran his hand along her bald pussy, noting, “No lubrication at all. That’s interesting.” As an alternative, he applied a generous amount of cold lube to the transformed executive’s pussy and asshole, making her shudder from the cold sensation, before gently inserting two dildos inside her orifices. The rubber phalluses were connected to a machine, which, when Alvin activated ‘slow mode,’ gently began to pulse back and forth inside the blonde’s pussy and ass. She bit against the rubber cock lodged in her mouth as the machine started to whir away.

Behind a two-way mirror connecting the testing lab with an observation room, Miles observed with his arms folded and a grin painted on his face. He enjoyed the sight of his rival being penetrated in every way possible, noting how the bitch always thought she was morally superior to him. Still, now she was simply taking cock like a pro. The AI chief figured he’d help the woman out a little and pulled out his phone, opening the prototype companion app. He glided down the options until he reached the ‘sensitivity’ section. The man dialed her vaginal and anal sensitivity slider bar up from the default to 70%, slipping the phone back into his pocket and folding his arms again, ready to enjoy the show.

The machine’s pace quickened, and Deborah fought the rising tide of sudden unwanted pleasure. However, her body betrayed her as the dildos moved faster, even her ass sending jolts of ecstasy to every cell in her body. The sensations overwhelmed her, and she almost blacked out as she succumbed to the powerful orgasm that spread across her body, crying out around the dildo in her mouth, her hips bucking as she was forced to accept the fucking fake cocks. She orgasmed not just once, but three times in rapid succession, her body trembling with exhaustion and unwanted pleasure, her pussy gushing with her own love juices. Alvin grinned as he noted, “Climax in half the time of a regular doll. That is fascinating.” The man finally stopped the machine and removed the dildos from her spent holes. Alvin unmagnetized the cuffs and released the transformed woman before stepping back to the other side of the table and releasing the long dildo from her mouth. “You’re free to get up now. Stand up and bend over the table.”

Deborah, gasping for breath, wanted to run and escape this hell she had been subjected to, but the testing was almost over, and she didn’t want to go through all of that for nothing. The executive tentatively bent over the table, her expanded rear exposed. “This tests your endurance and reflexes,” Alvin said, striking the blonde woman with a leather paddle, directly on her left ass cheek, counting, “One.”

Deborah gasped, not expecting the smack as her ass stung from the contact. The man struck again, “Two,” and she groaned out a second time. By the third and fourth, the undercover woman’s ass reddened, the pain intensifying with each strike. At six, Deborah cried out louder, the tenderness unbearable. “It’s amazing how much these new dolls mimic a real woman’s reaction,” Alvin grinned, noting her rosy-colored ass cheeks. He hit a seventh, prompting another yelp. The eighth and ninth drew louder cries, and by the tenth, Deborah couldn’t take it anymore as she pleaded. “Please, stop!” The scientist paused, surprised by the woman’s comment, “Stop?” he queried before striking the eleventh spank. At the twelfth, Deborah sobbed, “Please, stop!” she cried out. “I can’t take any more!”

Alvin noted the blonde’s response with a surprised shake of the head. “Interesting,” he murmured as he jotted more notes onto his clipboard.

The man stepped away, and Deborah shuddered, unaware of what was coming next. Alvin returned with a small rectangular device that he pressed against the transformed woman’s lower back, directly above the barcode Miles had imprinted onto her in his apartment. The executive groaned out as tiny pinpricks etched her skin as the device worked away. When the scientist removed the device, a new tattoo appeared above the barcode: “Defective Intelligence, Not Reliable.”

Deborah couldn’t see it, but the shaking of the perverted man’s head told her that it was bad news. “You failed the test, Dee Dee,” Alvin said almost apologetically. “Your results are abysmal, and you’re not fit for the secretary pool.” The blonde executive shuddered at the man’s words. “Stay here. I need to talk to my boss about a new role for you.”

Horrified, Deborah stayed bent over, her mind reeling. All she needed to do was blend in with the secretaries until Miles installed an unlocking mechanism, and she’d failed in less than four hours. What other role would be available to her? Would she be subjected to further humiliations? Her mind continued to race through every possibility as Alvin and his bosses decided on the woman’s fate.

❖

Knocking tentatively on the door of Miles’ office in the AI division of the company’s R&D level, Deborah felt a wave of dread ripple through her chest. She had always despised visiting this part of the building, but now, as a busty blonde with every male eye on her as she passed, it felt like more of a violation. She was back wearing the tight white blouse that pressed provocatively against her DD-cup breasts, and the short black miniskirt that left nothing to the imagination. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back as she waited for her rival to grant her access.

“Come in, Dee Dee,” Miles called from inside, his voice laced with smug amusement. Deborah stepped into the office, its walls lined with images of past artificial intelligence dolls, a stark departure from the more professional decoration in her own office. Miles leaned back in his chair, his gray suit clinging to his own lean frame, his goatee framing a wide grin as he looked his rival up and down. “Well, well, you’ve been a naughty girl today, haven’t you, Dee Dee?” he said with a chuckle.

Deborah scoffed, her obscenely large lips parting as she fought to keep her composure. “You know we’re alone right now. How about you call me by my real name and treat me with some damn respect,” she demanded. However, her ditzy voice made the command almost comical, her high-pitched lilt sounding more like a plea than an order. The woman’s hands clenched at her sides, her pink nails digging into her palms as she glared at the smug man, desperate to reclaim a shred of her former dignity.

The goateed man grinned wider and shook his head, his expression dripping with condescension. “Oh, Dee Dee, that attitude of yours is exactly what’s put me in a tough spot,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. “You should be begging me not to go to the board and come clean about the entire mix-up.”

The blonde’s heart sank as she took a step forward. “What do you mean, tough spot?” she asked, her voice quivering despite her attempt to sound firm. She was a strong, independent executive, and now she sounded like a pleading child.

Miles lifted up a piece of paper and waved it in a theatrical motion. “I just got the testing lab results, and let’s just say they’re not pretty.” He placed the paper on the table. “You’ve been officially labeled as ‘Defective Intelligence.’ There’s not much I can do with you intellectually now, Dee Dee. You’re a liability as a secretary.” The man leaned back, his grin excruciatingly wide, savoring her growing panic.

“This has gone on far enough, Miles,” Deborah retorted, her voice rising with desperation. “You need to install a release function now and get me out of this damn thing. I can’t endure any more of this humiliation!” Her blue eyes burned with fury, but her heavy makeup and vacant expression undermined the transformed woman’s authority.

The AI executive shook his head slowly, his smile unwavering. “My team’s working on the release trigger, but we need time. It’s just not ready yet, Dee Dee,” he said firmly, his smile confirming how much he was enjoying this power. “You made a deal, Dee Dee, and you’re doing a terrible job at it. You’re not cut out for the secretary pool anymore.” He paused, letting his words sink in, before delivering another blow. “I’m reassigning you to the model pool.”

Deborah shuddered, her hands trembling as she stepped forward and gripped the edge of Miles’ desk. “Model pool? What the hell does that mean?” she asked furiously.

Miles nodded with a low and menacing chuckle. “It means you’ll be parading around for client demos, showing off the functions of my creation,” he said. “You’ll be the perfect prototype showcase for my synthetic skin, Dee Dee. That’s all you’re good for now, this report confirms it.” His grin widened as he saw the horror in the blonde’s eyes, her tanned skin flushing with humiliation.

Deborah shook her head, her platinum hair swaying. “I can’t do that,” she said with her voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t make me parade around like some actual braindead doll.” Her heart pounded as she looked for signs of a practical joke, but Miles’ face never broke character.

The suited man grinned with a glint of mischief, pulling out his phone. “Oh, Dee Dee, you’re right,” he said with mock sympathy. “With your current behavior and mistakes, you couldn’t handle these important meetings.” He tapped the screen, his fingers moving swiftly. “Luckily, with that skin attached, I can make some tweaks to make things easier.”

Before the female executive could open her mouth to retort, a sudden heaviness flooded her body, and her vision blurred. The blonde’s eyes closed against her will, her mind fogging as if a switch had been flipped. Miles’ voice echoed faintly as he activated ‘sleep mode’ on her skin. Her consciousness shut off, leaving her standing in front of his desk, a lifeless doll in his office, as he grinned about the fun Deborah was about to be subjected to.

❖

Deborah’s eyes fluttered as her consciousness surged back in an instant, a disorienting wave that left her mind scrambling to catch up. She was no longer in Miles’ office, the sterile room she had last remembered visiting being replaced by an unfamiliar space with light blue walls and a polished wooden desk directly in front of her.

The transformed woman found herself on her knees, her hands resting obediently on her thighs, her exaggerated 34DD breasts thrust forward, barely contained by a black latex half-cup bra that left her nipples slightly exposed. A matching string bikini thong clung to her hips, and 6-inch black patent stilettos forced her feet into an uncomfortable arch. The outfit was somehow more humiliating than the secretary attire she had spent all morning parading around in.

Her blonde hair hung loosely down her back, and her extremely plump lips, frozen in an inviting O-shape, completed her sex doll appearance. Her slutty outfit allowed her ownership tattoo and barcode to be left on full display, etched onto her bronzed skin, a constant reminder of her temporarily degraded state. A patronizing pat on her head from Miles, seated in a chair beside her, sent a jolt of rage through the woman. Still, her body remained rigid, unable to protest.

Another man’s voice cut through the air from the other side of the desk, a voice Deborah knew all too well. It was Gavin Power, the CEO of Intima Creations. “I can’t deny that it’s an impressive design, Miles,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his black suit and red tie accentuating his youthful arrogance. “But I don’t see any difference from the previous AI OS iterations that have been installed into my dolls. What’s special about this one?” His dark eyes flicked toward Deborah, appraising her as “Dee Dee,” the AI companion, with a dismissive smirk.

Miles grinned with his goatee framing a confident smile, unfazed by the challenge. “Oh, Gavin, this is far beyond anything Intima has in its dolls,” he said, his voice brimming with assurance. “Dee Dee here is a game-changer, the next generation of artificial intelligence technology.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow with his smile widening, his fingers tapping the desk impatiently. “You talk the talk well, Miles,” he said with a challenging tone. “You’ve got the gift of the gab, alright, but I need you to demonstrate what makes this AI system so revolutionary. Actions speak louder than words and all that.” He peered over his desk, and his gaze lingered on Deborah’s bright red open lips, making the frozen woman’s stomach churn with humiliation.

Deborah’s goateed colleague nodded with a knowing chuckle, his fingers moving to his phone as he slipped it from his jacket pocket. “You want a demonstration? Well, watch this,” he said, tapping the screen to input a command.

A sudden jolt coursed through Deborah’s body, and her limbs began moving without her consent, shifting her to her hands and knees. The blonde executive began crawling beneath the desk, her stilettos in the air as she slowly made her way under the table. The transformed woman positioned herself between Gavin’s spread legs, and her fingers guided by the synthetic skin’s programming, fumbled with the CEO’s belt buckle. She unbuckled his black pants with mechanical precision, despite her long, eye-catching nails. Her prominent lips, locked in their O-shape, hovered over the man’s exposed cock. Without any input from her, the blonde’s head lowered, wrapping her obscene lips around his hardened shaft. The act was a total violation, her body a puppet under Miles’ control, and the slick warmth of Gavin’s cock against her tongue sent a wave of revulsion through her, her mind screaming against this humiliation.

The blonde’s head began to move with programmed rhythm, her lips sliding up and down Gavin’s engorged length with a slow, seductive pace. Her tongue, also controlled by the skin’s AI, swirled expertly around the tip, teasing the sensitive underside with calculated allure, each motion designed to maximize pleasure. It was as though Deborah was a passenger in her own body, helpless as her mouth continued to please the arrogant CEO. The wet, rhythmic sounds of Deborah’s mouth filled the office, amplifying her shame as her tanned skin flushed beneath the heavy makeup. Her wide blue eyes, frozen in their vacant expression, stared blankly at the desk’s underside, unable to meet Gavin’s gaze as he leaned back, his breath quickening.

The blonde’s pace sped up, Deborah’s lips tightening around Gavin’s dick as the programming adjusted to his growing arousal. Her tongue darted along his length, tracing every ridge with relentless expertise that made her feel like an actual sex machine. Each thrust of her trapped head drove his cock deeper, brushing the back of her throat, as she was hopelessly unable to avoid the degradation she faced. Deborah’s heart pounded with rage and helplessness, the scent of Gavin’s arousal heavy in her nostrils, and the feeling of Miles’ smug judgmental gaze reminded her of his control over her. The blonde’s body moved with a seductive grace she couldn’t stop, her lips and tongue working in perfect sync, coaxing low groans from Gavin as her mind screamed for freedom.

The Intima Creations CEO’s breath hitched, and a guttural moan escaped his lips as he reached climax, his cock pulsing violently inside Deborah’s mouth. A thick, warm load of cum shot into her throat, the bitter, acrid taste taking over her senses, flooding her mouth with a disgusting taste. The skin’s programming forced her throat to swallow automatically, each gulp a mechanical reflex that drew every drop of semen down with humiliating precision, leaving her lips slick and heavy with the aftertaste. The act was a visceral violation of the feminist, her body betraying her as she complied without hesitation, and the lingering taste of Gavin’s juices deepened her shame. She fought the urge to retch, her mind reeling with disgust, her O-lips unmoving as the final drops slid down her throat.

“Wow, that’s genius, Miles,” Gavin said with a satisfied laugh as he slid Deborah’s mouth away from his cock, rubbing his half-erect member across her face. “You’re a damn genius. I’ve never seen a doll with such perfect oral skills.” His voice was thick with approval as he adjusted his pants and hid his dick away. “We could seriously annihilate the love doll section with this tech. Expect a firm offer in the next few days.”

Gavin paused, staring down at the humiliated sex doll, his eyes glinting with greed. “How about this,” he continued, not taking his eyes off the transformed executive. “You leave Dee Dee with me as a goodwill gift. That will ensure our partnership starts out strong. She’s exceptional.”

Miles smiled with a low shake of his head as he recalled Deborah back towards him, watching her back out from under the neck and automatically kneeling beside him, her lips remaining frozen in her O-lipped pose. “Thanks for the kind words, Gavin,” he said smoothly as his hand returned to patronizingly pat the blonde on the head. “But I need to keep this prototype for now. She’s one of a kind, literally, and we’re still perfecting the design. As soon as we produce more units, you’ll be the first to get one, I promise.” His fingers brushed through his transformed rival’s platinum hair, a gesture that deepened her internal fury.

Gavin nodded with a satisfied smirk, albeit disappointed at the response. He leaned forward and clasped his hands over his desk. “You’ve got my full backing, Miles,” he said, his voice firm and confident. “BioSynth is going places, and my company will support you all the way.”

The CEO stood, extending a hand to Miles, who shook it firmly, pulling Deborah to her feet with a gentle tug. “Come, Dee Dee,” he called dismissively as he left the office, the transformed woman automatically tottering behind him as she followed. Miles led the blonde out of the office, his hand resting possessively on her lower back, guiding her through the door as her mind churned with humiliation, rage, and a desperate need to find out what that bastard had done to her.

❖

Sitting in the passenger seat of her rival’s sleek black sedan, Deborah felt the seatbelt press tightly against her large 34DD breasts, the latex bra and g-string offering little protection. Her lips were still locked in an O-shape by the synthetic skin commands, and prevented the blonde from asking the questions burning in her skull.

Miles slid into the driver’s seat and started the car with a smug grin. The Los Angeles skyline blurred past as he pulled onto the freeway. “So, Dee Dee,” Miles said mockingly as he glanced at the silent blonde, “did you enjoy your first assignment as a BioSynth model? You passed with flying colors, you know.” His goatee continued to frame a wide smile, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he kept one hand on the wheel.

The blonde’s heart pounded with rage, but her frozen lips could only manage a muffled moan. She narrowed her wide blue eyes, glaring at him with all the defiance she could muster, her mind screaming against the doll he had turned her into. The memory of Gavin Power’s cum in her throat lingered, a bitter reminder of her degradation, and Miles’ taunting in the car only deepened her fury.

He chuckled, undeterred by her glare. “I have to say, I’m enjoying the silence, doll,” he said playfully. “Puppet mode worked like a charm, didn’t it? That’s what I’m calling my operating system’s newest feature, by the way, and you experienced it firsthand.” The AI chief leaned back as he drove, his grin widening. “I can type in any command, and my AI companion complies without fail. Pretty impressive, right?”

Deborah’s chest tightened, her mind reeling as she processed his words. Another muffled gasp escaped her wide-open, enhanced lips, her eyes burning with hatred. Still, she remained trapped in silence, unable to challenge the asshole.

Miles laughed menacingly. “You know, Puppet Mode’s code is awfully similar to that nerve-assist function you designed for your synthetic skin,” he said, his eyes flicking to the busty blonde briefly. “You know, the one that helps loved ones assist people with degenerative diseases in performing complex tasks? That’s noble stuff, Deborah, really.” He paused, savoring the woman’s reaction. “But I think it works much better on my dolls, don’t you?”

The medical scientist’s muffled moans turned into a strangled sound, her body trembling with the revelation, her blue eyes widening further in shock. The nerve-assist function in her design had been her crowning achievement, a feature meant to empower those with disabilities, and now Miles had twisted it into something obscene and immoral. He had effectively confirmed that he had stolen her code, a fact that she had long suspected.

As Miles left the freeway and turned down several streets, the car slowed to a halt. The man pulled up outside the towering glass facade of BioSynth Technologies headquarters, the Los Angeles sunset casting an orange glow over the building. He turned to his rival with a serious expression, his playful smile fading momentarily. “I got some bad news, Dee Dee. Now that you’re officially a model unit, I can’t take you back to my apartment tonight,” he said, his voice firm. “You’ve been seen too much around the building. People would start asking questions if I took you home.”

Deborah stared at the dark-haired man as he spoke. She couldn’t go back to her place in her current state; that much was clear. If she couldn’t sleep at his apartment, where was she going to stay?

Miles’ serious demeanor cracked, his lips curling back into a playful smile. “Unfortunately, there’s only one place for you now, Dee Dee,” he said, his tone laced with mock regret. “And I think you’ll fit right in.”

Darkness momentarily enveloped Deborah as she suddenly found herself upright. She was no longer in her rival’s car, but in a dimly lit room, her body strapped inside a 6-foot-tall, narrow box with a plastic window across the front; she was trapped inside a doll box. The container had the words “Prototype” scrawled across the front in bold, uneven letters. The woman’s hands were pinned by her sides, her lips still frozen in place, and she was still wearing the slutty latex Intima Creations lingerie.

Miles stood before her, his grin wide under the dim light of a single bulb. “This is your bedroom for the next few days, Dee Dee. I’ll be back to collect you in the morning,” he said, his voice echoing with cruel amusement in the confined space. The male executive closed the door with a soft thud, plunging the blonde woman into total darkness.

As Deborah’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw them—other AI companions, immobile in their own doll boxes, their vacant faces mirroring her own forced expression. Stored among them, reduced to a lifeless object, her mind swirled with humiliation, rage, and a desperate resolve to break free from Miles’ control. She needed to back out of this agreement before her reputation was destroyed forever.

❖

After what felt like an eternity in the suffocating darkness of the cramped storage cupboard, a sliver of light pierced through as the door creaked open, flooding the small space with the harsh glow of the adjacent corridor. Deborah stared ahead, her body still strapped in the “Prototype” doll box, her mind racing from the humiliation of spending all night being stored like an object.

Miles stood in the doorway, his green professional suit contrasting with her slutty latex underwear, and a mocking grin was plastered on his face. “Rise and shine, doll,” he said with a taunting lilt, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he enjoyed the blonde’s predicament.

The male executive stepped forward, unlatching the front door of the doll box with a metallic click, and pulled out his phone, tapping the screen with slow precision. A sudden release coursed through Deborah’s body, her limbs freed from the forced, rigid confinement, and her lips, no longer locked in their sex doll shape, relaxed to their normal state, allowing her to speak. The medical chief’s eyes narrowed with fury, and she opened her mouth to unleash a torrent of rage, her voice trembling with pent-up frustration. “You bastard—”

The dark-haired man raised his phone with a slow, taunting motion, shaking his head with a condescending smirk. “Careful what you say, Dee Dee,” he said menacingly. “Unless you want to go back to being silent.” His fingers hovered over the screen, a silent threat that froze the blonde’s words in her throat.

Swallowing her anger, Deborah stepped out of the box, her 6-inch stiletto heels clicking against the tiled floor as Miles led her down the corridor. She couldn’t stop thinking about the torment she had been through over the previous twenty-four hours. “Are you ready to install that release trigger yet?” she chirped hopefully, still irritated by the ditzy demeanor of her transformed voice.

Miles chuckled, his stride confident as he glanced back at her. “About that, I have some good news, Dee Dee,” he said, his tone dripping with false sincerity. “My team’s had a breakthrough. You should be free of that synthetic skin in a day or two.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air before adding, “But in the meantime, you need to keep playing your part as my prototype. We’ve got an extremely important demo today.”

Deborah stopped in her tracks, her fists clenching at her sides as she absorbed her rival’s words. “No, Miles,” she snapped back in desperation. “This torture has to end. I’m done with your sadistic plans. I’m not your humiliation puppet, and I refuse to go along with this anymore.”

The AI executive paused, turning to face his trapped blonde colleague with a thoughtful expression, his eyes narrowing as if weighing his options. “Okay, Dee Dee,” he said with a slow nod, the man’s voice deceptively calm. “If that’s how you feel, I’ll escort you to the boardroom right now. You can explain how you stole my suit to sabotage me.” He took a step forward, his grin returning. “It’ll cost you your job for sure, maybe even land you a criminal charge, but at least you’ll be free of this ‘embarrassment.’”

Deborah’s heart pounded with a surge of urgent fear. She had worked her ass off to get to where she was today, and she couldn’t allow her career to end this way. “Wait,” he called out reluctantly, her hands reaching out to stop him. The blonde lowered her head. “I’ll do it. I’ll tolerate it for a couple more days. That’s all.”

Miles clapped his hands together with a triumphant laugh, his grin wide. “Great choice, doll,” he said, his tone brimming with satisfaction. “We’re headed to The Gold Club this morning, an exclusive male-only club for the wealthiest and most powerful men in this city. Many of them are BioSynth’s most important and secretive donors, and we need to show them what they’re paying for.”

The blonde executive nodded solemnly, her stomach twisting with dread of what was to come as she forced herself to follow the arrogant man, her stilettos continuing to echo in the halls as she walked. “Fine,” she said in resignation. “Lead the way.”

Her rival stopped abruptly and turned to face the woman with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he readjusted his green suit. “Not so fast, Dee Dee,” he said menacingly. “These men at The Gold Club aren’t your average people. They’re highly intelligent, highly perceptive. Your current disguise might fool a regular man, but these guys are on another level altogether.” His grin widened, his fingers already reaching for his phone.

Deborah’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, a chill running down her spine as she noticed his movements. “What are you saying, Miles?” she asked in a squeaky, nervous tone, her hands clenching tighter at her sides.

The male AI executive pulled out his phone, his smile turning cruel and knowing as he tapped the screen performatively. “Unfortunately, you’ll need more extreme measures to keep your identity a secret,” he said, his voice filled with malice. “I’m sure you’re getting used to this part by now, aren’t you, Dee Dee?”

The blonde woman’s lips parted, a desperate “No!” escaping her throat, but it was too late. Her blue eyes snapped shut, her body slumping as Miles activated the synthetic skin’s sleep mode, her consciousness fading into darkness once more, leaving the transformed woman at her rival’s mercy as he prepared her for her next big performance.

❖

Consciousness surged back, and Deborah found herself standing upright in the lobby of a room lined with extravagant gold accents, opulent chandeliers casting a warm glow over the marble floor. The space screamed wealth and was a complete contrast to the BioSynth corridor she had remembered walking along moments ago. A strange sensation prickled in her chest, and glancing down, she understood why. Her breasts, no longer the obscene 34DDs Miles had morphed onto her a couple of days prior, now jutted out impossibly round and buoyant, perched high with minimal bounce, their F-cup size barely concealed by a low-cut, strapless red latex microdress.

The dress ended just at the curve of her ass, and left the top half of her massive breasts exposed, her nipples only just hidden and at risk of exposure if she moved dramatically. The executive’s face felt stiff, her lips contorted into a wide, uncontrollable smile that refused to falter, extremely wide and artificial. Miles stood beside her, his tailored tuxedo exuding sophistication, his goatee framing his smug grin as always, as he admired his rival up and down.

“What’s going on?” Deborah asked, her voice sharp with panic, although the forced smile twisted her words into a comedic expression. Her mind raced as her brain tried to decipher exactly what that bastard had done to her this time.

Miles adjusted his cufflinks, his smile widening. “We’re at The Gold Club, ready for the next demonstration,” he said, his tone brimming with confidence. “You look great, by the way. Just follow the script, and we’ll do fine.” His casual assurance only deepened the blonde’s unease, her heart pounding as she wondered what script he meant.

Deborah shook her head, trying to contort her face into a serious expression, but failing miserably. “What script, Miles?” she demanded in frustration. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The 38-year-old man paused, his grin turning mischievous. “It doesn’t matter. Oh, and one more thing,” he said in amusement. “I’ve decided the name Dee Dee is no longer relevant. Those double-D knockers are gone, so the joke doesn’t apply anymore.” Miles chuckled to himself. “I’ve renamed you Ditzy Debbie.”

“You pig,” Deborah spat immediately as if it were some reflex. “I’m not going by that name, no damn way! Besides, it’s too close to my real name, and you know it.”

Miles laughed again, a low, mocking sound as he leaned closer. “Trust me, Debbie. No one will recognize you as Deborah anymore,” he joked maliciously. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to your new name sooner than you think.” His confidence sent a chill down the blonde’s spine.

Before the BioSynth medical chief could respond, an older man in his mid-sixties approached, his tailored black suit and silver hair exuding wealth and power. He shook Miles’ hand warmly, pulling him into a brief hug. “Miles, my boy, it’s been too long,” he said, his voice rich with familiarity. “It’s good to see you again.”

The younger man returned the warmth, his smile genuine for once. “Great to see you too, Roger,” he said. “My grandfather always spoke highly of this place before he passed.”

The silver-haired man nodded, his expression softening. “He was a good man,” he said before turning his attention to Deborah, his eyes appraising her with a mix of curiosity and admiration. “And who’s this fine specimen?”

Without warning, Deborah’s body moved on its own, her knees bending into a graceful curtsy as she extended her hand. “I’m Ditzy Debbie, sir,” she said, her voice bright and cheerful despite her internal horror, the wide smile unwavering. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Her mind screamed in protest as she was left humiliated by her programmed reverence.

The man chuckled, taking her hand and pressing a gentle kiss onto it. “The pleasure’s all mind, my dear,” he said, his tone warm but patronizing. “I’m Roger Franks.” He glanced at Miles, his eyebrow raised. “Quite the creation you’ve got here.”

Miles nodded with a confident grin, stepping closer to Deborah. “Ditzy Debbie’s one of our newest prototype AI units, in partnership with Intima Creations,” he said, his voice brimming with pride. “I’m here to show off her abilities today, Roger, to show the guys where their generous donation money is going. You and the others are in for a treat.” His hand rested lightly on the transformed woman’s backside, a possessive gesture that made her skin crawl, although the woman didn’t react, and her smile never weakened.

Roger’s grin widened, his eyes lingering on Deborah’s huge, freshly modified chest. “Well, Ditzy Debbie is quite a mouthful to say,” he said with a teasing chuckle. “Mind if I just call you Debbie?” His gaze held a mix of amusement and expectation, as if he were testing Deborah’s compliance.

The blonde’s lips moved before she could stop them, her voice unnervingly obedient. “Yes, Sir,” she said, the words slipping out with a high-pitched, cheerful lilt that made her feel sick. “You can call me whatever you like.” Her mind recoiled; the humiliation of her programmed response deepened her sense of powerlessness. Deborah had always hated these secretive, exclusive gentlemen’s clubs where the wealthy and chauvinistic amongst the population plotted on how to keep the rest of society down, but being paraded around as a compliant bimbo in this type of setting was endlessly worse.

Roger nodded, clearly pleased, and gestured toward a set of ornate double doors at the end of the lobby. “The men are waiting in the lounge,” he said with authority. “Let’s head in and get this show started.” He turned, leading the way with a purposeful stride, allowing the pair to follow behind him.

Miles followed, motioning for Deborah to keep pace, his own grin still genuinely plastered on his face. As they walked, the blonde’s bright red, painfully tall 6-inch stiletto heels clicked against the marble floor, each step amplifying her dread of what awaited her in the lounge. She turned her head toward her rival, her voice a harsh whisper despite her placid smile. “What the fuck have you done to me?” she demanded, her heart pounding with fear and frustration, the cheerful expression making her words sound absurdly out of place.

Miles’ smile widened, his eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction as he glanced back at her. “You’ll see, Debbie,” he said, his tone dripping with anticipation, offering no further explanation as they approached the lounge doors, the weight of dread growing heavier in Deborah’s chest with each approaching step.

❖

As Roger approached the gold-decorated double doors of the club’s lounge, Deborah caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirrored windows, and a gasp escaped her lips at what she saw. She had already been transformed once by this pig of a rival, but nothing prepared her for the sight of her fresh face staring back at her.

The blonde’s eyes were unnaturally bright and wide, framed by long, dark, curly eyelashes and eyeliner swept in an Egyptian-style wing. Bright blue shadow coated her eyelids up to where her eyebrows once were. Her previously trimmed eyebrows had disappeared entirely, replaced by a pair of extraordinarily thin, highly arched black lines as if they were drawn on. Rosy blush accentuated her cheeks, creating the illusion of higher cheekbones, and her obscenely plump lips gleamed with super-glossed bright red pigment. The executive tried to narrow her eyes or furrow her brow, but her face refused, capable only of fully opening and closing her eyelids like an actual doll.

Unbeknownst to her, this wasn’t makeup on Deborah’s face, but permanent pigmentation in her synthetic skin, crafted by Miles to give her the indisputable look of a slutty whore. The woman’s heart pounded with horror as the reflection confirmed her transformation into a cartoon character that looked nothing like her former self, and her mind screamed against the violation.

Roger pushed open the double doors, revealing a plush lounge where a crackling fireplace cast a warm glow over dark leather armchairs. Four older men, ranging from forty-nine to sixty-eight in age, occupied the space—two engrossed in a heated discussion, the others scanning their individual newspapers. The sharp clack of Deborah’s 6-inch stilettos on the polished floor drew their attention, their eyes snapping to her 34F breasts, offered up by the low-cut, strapless red latex dress that ended just below the curve of her ass. Miles followed close behind, his tailored tuxedo exuding an authority that Deborah’s dress lacked, as he grinned in anticipation of what was to come.

One man, named Giles, a lean figure with sharp features and an expensive suit, set down his paper. “Well, look at this. What have you brought us, Roger?” he asked with a sophisticated tone that betrayed his perverted leering at Deborah’s exposed chest.

Roger gestured toward Miles with a proud nod. “Miles here is Head of Research at BioSynth Technologies’ AI Division,” he said. “He’s brought Debbie along with him, one of his creations. He has said that she’ll demonstrate exactly what our generous investments have been paying for.”

Another man, John, heavyset with a gray beard, leaned forward in his armchair, his eyes narrowing appreciatively. “You’re certainly a sight, Debbie,” he said suggestively. “But are you as pleasing as you look?”

Before Deborah could even process the question, her body betrayed her again, a high-pitched giggle bursting from her enlarged, bright red lips. “I just love making men happy, sir,” she said, her voice soft and eager, her words twisting her stomach with nausea.

A third man, Harry, wiry with thinning hair and a jovial grin, chuckled from his seat. “Impressive tits you have there,” his crude use of language contrasting the refinement in his voice. “I wouldn’t mind cumming all over them.” His bluntness sent a fresh wave of shame through the female executive, her heart pounding against her enhanced chest.

The fourth man, Martin, with a slick comb-over and a glint in his eyes, nodded in agreement. “Those lips look mighty inviting also,” he said, leaning back in his armchair. “I wouldn’t mind using them myself.”

Miles stepped forward, his grin widening as he gave Deborah a sharp smack across her latex-clad add, the sting triggering her body to move as if it were a programmed act. She giggled again, her movements automatic as she approached the four men, kneeling before Martin with a fluid grace that belied her inner horror. The blonde’s pouty lips parted, hovering over his lap as he unbuttoned his trousers, revealing his erect cock nonchalantly, as if this were completely normal. “That’s a cute trick,” Martin said with a chuckle. “But how about you stand and bend over, Debbie. You’ll put on a better show that way.”

The female executive’s body obeyed his request immediately, rising and bending at the waist, her red dress riding up to completely expose her bubble butt and bare pussy. She leaned forward, her glossy lips enveloping Martin’s cock without complaint, her tongue swirling with programmed precision, each movement a violation of her true intentions. The warm, slick sensation of his shaft against her tongue deepened her internal nausea, the blonde bobbing her head as she sucked rhythmically, drawing low groans from the older man.

Without warning, Giles approached from behind, his hands gripping her hips as he entered her pussy, the sudden intrusion prompting a soft, feminine mewl from her muffled mouth. Deborah’s body rocked between the two men, her lips working Martin’s cock. At the same time, Giles thrust steadily, each motion deepening her sense of helpless shame. The dual violation stripper away the executive’s dignity, her mind churning with rage as the men’s grunts filled the room. Miles and Roger sat across the lounge, their voices low as they ignored what was taking place and discussed family ties and business deals, indifferent to Deborah’s plight, their casual chatter amplifying her sense of humiliation.

John rose from his armchair, pressing his cock into the transformed woman’s hand, and her fingers closed around it automatically, stroking with a steady rhythm as if it was what she was programmed to do. Her body juggled three acts—sucking Martin, rocking against Giles, and stroking John—each motion a testament to how much control Miles held over her. The men’s crude comments, praising her “eager mouth” and “tight pussy” deepened her shame as she became lost amidst the relentless objectification.

Martin’s groans grew louder, his cock pulsing as he came in the woman’s eager mouth, the warm, bitter load flooding her senses. Deborah’s throat swallowed automatically, the synthetic skin programming ensuring compliance, leaving her wet-look lips looking perfect, as though she hadn’t just been face fucked.

Giles, still thrusting inside her vagina, pulled the woman away from Martin’s spent cock, guiding her to Harry, who sat with his member already exposed. Her lips immediately slid over Harry’s shaft, her tongue resuming its programmed dance, the act as mechanical as it was degrading. Giles’ thrusts quickened, his grip tightening as he orgasmed inside her pussy, the sensation a free assault on her dignity, and sent her to the edge of orgasm herself despite her own revulsion.

As Giles stepped back, his breath heavy, John took his place behind Deborah, his hands steadying her hips as he entered her inviting ass with a slow, deliberate push, spreading her cheeks apart. “Wow, amazing. She’s already well-lubed,” he commented with an approving chuckle. “That’s a neat feature.” His thrusts were forceful, each one rocking the blonde’s busty body as her lips continued their dedicated work on Harry’s shaft, drawing deeper moans from the wiry man. The dual fucking intensified, her mind continuing to reel with disgust as her body performed for the sleazy, wealthy men, the fireplace’s glow casting a surreal warmth over the degrading scene.

Harry’s moans grew erratic, his hands gripping the armrests as his cock pulses in her mouth, while John’s thrusts became more urgent, his fingers digging fiercely into her hips. The lounge filled with their combined masculine grunts, the other men watching with amusement as Deborah’s body serviced them flawlessly. Her mind screamed against the act, but she showed no signs of resistance, merely a sophisticated AI love doll doing what she was programmed to do.

John’s pace quickened, and he groaned loudly as he came in her ass, the warm sensation flooding her with revulsion. Simultaneously, Harry climaxed in the transformed blonde’s mouth, his salty load mixing with the lingering taste of Martin’s. Her programmed response began to swallow when Martin raised a hand, his voice sharp. “Hold it, Debbie,” he commanded. Deborah’s throat froze, the cum pooling against her glossy lips and remaining inside the woman’s mouth, the taste making her feel sick. The older man reached into a drawer beside his armchair, pulling out a large red ball gag, and immediately slipped it between her pouty lips, buckling it tightly. “Let’s see how long you keep me inside that pretty mouth of yours. Women should be seen, not heard,” he chirped with a smirk, the gag trapping the semen against Deborah’s tongue, intensifying her humiliation.

John removed himself from the female executive’s ass and lowered her dress, the latex snapping back to barely cover her rear, and gave her a sharp slap on the cheek of her buttocks. “Back to your owner, Debbie,” he said, his tone dismissive as he stepped away. Deborah straightened, her stilettos clicking unsteadily as she walked back to Miles, the gag gleaming between her fat, bright red lips, the taste of cum overwhelming her senses.

Miles rose from his seat, his grin wide as he surveyed the four men, their satisfied expressions confirming the demo’s success. “They all look pleased,” he said to Deborah, his voice brimming with pride. The younger man extended a hand to Roger, shaking it firmly. “A pleasure, as always,” he said, his tone professional but familiar.

Roger nodded, his eyes glinting with approval as he admired the gagged, busty doll one more time. “Impressive work, Miles,” he said. “You’ve outdone yourself with this one.”

As Miles led Deborah toward the lounge door, Giles called out, his voice carrying a sense of amusement and desire. “Bring her back anytime, Miles!” The other men chuckled, their eyes lingering on her sexy, retreating form, the red latex dress advertising her as she followed her rival, the wide gag a final indignity.

Miles placed his hand possessively on the woman’s rear, whispering to her. “You did great, a true natural,” he complimented her as he led the horrified blonde out of The Gold Club, her task complete.

❖

Miles stood in the doorway of the dim storage cupboard at BioSynth Technologies headquarters, his grin wide as he admired Deborah, strapped upright in her doll box labeled “Prototype.” Her 34F breasts thrust forward invitingly in the red latex microdress, her face reverted to its frozen, wide-smiling state, the gag from The Gold Club removed, but the programming in her synthetic skin now locking her in immobility.

The only light from the windowless room emanated from the corridor behind the AI research leader, casting shadows across the cramped space. “Sweet dreams, Debbie,” Miles said with a mocking chuckle. He shut the cupboard door with a soft thud, plunging the trapped executive into darkness, her mind still horrified from today’s humiliation and the indignation of being stored like a real-life inanimate doll as Miles locked the door behind him.

As the man turned and strode down the corridor, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his grin softening as he read a text from Samantha Brooks. “Been thinking about you. Can I come over? x,” His fingers tapped a quick reply, “Give me an hour to get home. Can’t wait to see you, sexy.” He chuckled, pocketing his phone, his steps quickening as he exited the building, the anticipation of the evening ahead shifting his focus.

An hour later, Miles, now dressed in a plain black t-shirt and blue jeans, opened the door of his modern Los Angeles apartment to find Samantha standing there, her auburn hair flowing loosely over a tight black dress that showed off her curves. Her green eyes sparkled with intent as she stepped into his apartment, wrapping her arms around the man’s shoulders and kissing his deeply, her lips warm and urgent. Miles shut the front door with a nudge, their bodies still pressed together, and guided her toward his bedroom, their kiss unbroken.

In the bedroom, Miles tossed Samantha onto the bed with a playful growl, climbing over her as their lips met again, his tongue exploring hers with fervor. The executive nibbled his spy’s neck, drawing a soft moan from her as he tugged his t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Miles’ hands moved to Samantha’s dress, lifting it over her head to reveal a black bra, g-string, as well as her black stockings and heels. He unhooked the bra, letting it fall, and resumed kissing the dark-haired woman’s neck, his lips trailing down to her breasts, teasing her skin with gentle bites. Samantha moaned louder, her hands gripping his shoulders, her voice breathy as she spoke. “Is Deborah joining us tonight?”

Miles froze, his lips hovering above the woman’s skin, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, Deborah?” he asked, his tone sharp with suspicion, pulling back slightly to meet her gaze.

Samantha chuckled, her smile playful as she corrected herself. “I meant Dee Dee, sorry,” she said, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Where’s your doll tonight?”

The executive’s eyebrow arched, his voice low and probing. “Why did you call her Deborah?” he pressed, leaning back further, his hands still resting on his date’s hips.

The topless woman laughed again, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on, Miles, forget it,” she said teasingly. “Where’s Dee Dee? I was hoping we could play with her tonight.”

Miles’ jaw tightened, his gaze hardening as he studied Samantha’s face, searching for any giveaway in her expression. “Come clean, Samantha,” he replied. “What are you getting at with all this Deborah talk?”

The young woman sighed, her smile widening as she propped herself up on her elbows, her bare breasts exposed directly below the man’s face. “Oh, please, Miles,” she laughed lightly. “I’ve known Deborah for years. I recognized her face instantly when she was standing over there, even behind those puffy lips and that blonde hair. She is Dee Dee, isn’t she?” Her eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and intrigue, her fingers tracing lazy circles on her date’s arm.

Miles started to respond, his mouth opening, but Samantha cut him off, her voice softening as she leaned closer. “Relax, Miles,” she said flirtatiously. “Deborah always acted like a total bitch to me, like she was better than me, always looking down on everyone in her team. Honestly, seeing her turned into that doll? It’s super hot and sexy. I love it.” The woman let her hand slide down his chest, her touch teasing, as if to reassure him of her loyalty.

The executive’s expression remained guarded, his voice measured as he pulled back slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Samantha,” he said, his eyes locked onto hers, testing her sincerity. “You’re imagining things.”

Samantha laughed softly, lying back on the bed, her auburn hair splaying across the pillow. “Don’t worry, babe,” she said playfully. “My lips are sealed. I won’t tell a soul. In fact, I’m looking forward to playing with Dee Dee myself sometime. Could be fun, don’t you think?” Her smile was teasing, her eyes glinting with excitement as she stretched languidly, her body inviting under the bedroom light.

Miles stayed silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the lab technician as he slid off the bed. He walked to the bedside table, opening the drawer with a quiet creak, and retrieving something in his left hand. Returning to the bed, he straddled the woman’s hips, leaning in for one long, sensual kiss, his right hand caressing her bare breasts, his fingers teasing her skin with slow, deliberate strokes, prompting a soft, lulling moan from the dark-haired woman’s lips. “No one can know about Deborah and Dee Dee,” he murmured against her lips, his voice soft but carrying a dangerous undertone.

Samantha smiled up at him, her eyes half-lidded, oblivious to the shift in his tone. “I told you, my lips are sealed,” she said in a sultry tone, her hand resting lightly on his shoulders. “You can trust me, Miles.”

The topless executive paused, his expression darkening as he pulled back slightly, high grip tightening on her shoulder. “You don’t understand, Samantha,” he said, his voice turning cold, the warmth draining from his words. “No one can know about Deborah.”

The woman’s eyes widened, a flicker of alarm crossing her face as she registered the change, but the man’s weight pinned her to the bed, leaving her helpless. With a swift motion, Miles plunged the syringe in his left hand into Samantha’s neck, the needle piercing her skin. Within moments, her eyelids fluttered, growing heavy, and her body slumped into unconsciousness, her hair fanning out across the pillow.

Miles leaned back, his face unreadable as he gazed at his date’s limp form, the syringe still in his hand. “Sorry, Samantha,” he said softly, his voice almost tinged with faint regret. “You’ve been a valuable spy, but this secret’s too big for two people to keep.” The room fell silent as Miles slipped off the bed, looking over Samantha’s motionless body, his mind already turning to the next phase of his plan.

❖

“Gentlemen,” Miles began, his voice commanding the room. “I hope this afternoon’s demonstration will convince you that there’s only one direction for this company: innovation and profit.” He stood nervously at the head of the polished mahogany table in the BioSynth Technologies boardroom, the LA skyline visible through the towering windows behind him. The board members—Walter Knight, Robert Kane, Luke Reed, and Simon Cho—sat attentively, their expressions a mix of curiosity and expectation. The company had received a preliminary offer from Gavin Power, prompting the executive team to bring the pitch meeting forward, a decision the company’s CEO, Walter, had accepted with begrudging reluctance.

Miles turned to Deborah, who stood motionless beside him, her face locked into a wide artificial smile that betrayed none of the horror churning within her. It was one thing to be paraded around before potential clients and investors, but these were the most important men in the company, and it made her sick to her stomach.

The woman’s long, platinum blonde hair sat loosely in perfect waves across her shoulders, framing a face transformed into a doll-like visage: bright blue eyeshadow swept across her lids, long curly eyelashes flared dramatically, thin arched lines replaced her eyebrows, rosy blue accentuated her cheeks, and glossy red lips gleamed unnaturally plump. The fetish nurse outfit she wore, courtesy of Intima Creations, was a provocative mockery of the medical profession. A white latex crop top with a red cross on the center, barely concealing her 34F fake breasts, left her midriff exposed, showing off her ownership tattoo, the material stretched taut to reveal her exaggerated bimbo curves. A tiny white skirt hugged her hips, ending just below the curve of her ass, paired with thigh-high white stockings and 6-inch red stilettos that forced her posture upright, accentuating her enhanced ass. A nurse’s cap, emblazoned with “Ditzy Debbie” in red cursive, perched on her head, completing the humiliating ensemble.

Her appearance screamed sexualized fantasy, every detail designed to objectify the female executive. The outfit left little to the imagination, her massive breasts threatening to spill from the low-cut top with each breath, the skirt riding high to expose the tops of her stockings and the bare skin in between. Her frozen smile and unblinking eyes, capable of only opening and closing like a doll’s, made her look like a living mannequin, the synthetic skin’s programmed design ensuring she stayed motionless until she received further commands. Deborah’s mind screamed against the control, but she continued to stand poised and compliant as Miles continued his pitch.

Miles straightened, his nervous demeanor giving way to the confidence he’d practiced as he addressed the board. “Allow me to introduce Ditzy Debbie,” he said, gesturing to Deborah with a proud smile. There was a handful of chuckles amongst some of the men as they clearly imagined the name was a dig at his competing rival. Walter rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed with the naming convention. “She’s our latest prototype for the AI division’s synthetic skin technology. Debbie here has already performed multiple successful demonstrations over the past few days, including one for Gavin Power himself.” His voice carried a salesman’s polish as his eyes glinted with ambition. “This design offers the most controllable, customizable build yet, with a fluid motion that mimics a real person perfectly. Let me show you.”

The AI Head of Research pulled out his phone, his fingers tapping the screen as he navigated the menus. With a press of a button, he activated “Dance Mode,” and Deborah’s body immediately sprang into motion, her hips swaying sensually to an unheard rhythm. Her stilettos clicked rhythmically on the ground as she spun, her tiny skirt flaring to reveal the bare skin above her stockings. Her hands trailed seductively over her curves, teasing the hem of her crop top before lifting it over her head, tossing it onto the boardroom table to the cheers of some of the executives, exposing her massive, obviously fake 34F tits, their unnatural buoyancy drawing every eye in the room. Deborah’s movements were fluid, like a stripper who had done this her entire adult life, each sway and twirl a testament to the trapped skin’s programming, her mind screaming in protest as the board members watched with intrigue, some shifting uncomfortably, others leaning forward with undisguised interest.

Miles nodded approvingly, his voice cutting through the boardroom’s silence. “The human-to-human interactions on this model are unlike anything ever devised,” he said enthusiastically, his fingers poised over his phone. With another tap, he activated “Lapdance Mode,” and Deborah’s eyes immediately locked onto Walter, the CEO who had guided her career like a surrogate father.

The transformed blonde sauntered towards her boss, her hips swaying provocatively, her stilettos clicking with each purposeful step. Straddling the man’s lap, Deborah pressed her chest against his, her glossy lips brushing his in a sensual kiss before moving down, her teeth nibbling his neck with expert allure. She pushed her massive breasts into the older man’s face, guiding his mouth to her bare, erect nipples, her body grinding against the CEO’s lap in a slutty, rhythmic motion. Her hands delivered a sharp spank to her own ass, the crack echoing around the room, her mind reeling with humiliation at performing for the man who once mentored her.

Walter’s face flushed, his voice unsteady as he shifted beneath the blonde. “This demonstration isn’t needed, Miles,” he said, his hands hovering but not pushing the blonde away, his arousal evident to those in the room. The other board members chuckled, Robert smirking as he leaned back, “Looks like Walter approves of your design, Miles,” he said teasingly.

Miles grinned, undeterred and determined to make his mark on this demonstration. He tapped his phone again, activating “VIP Mode.” Deborah gasped internally as she immediately stopped dancing for the CEO and dropped to her knees, positioning herself between the man’s spread legs. Her long, pink fingernails unbuckled Walter’s pants with expert efficiency before she released the older man’s cock.

The blonde’s lips wrapped around Walter’s stiff shaft, her tongue working sensually as she sucked, her bright eyes locked on his in a humiliating mockery of intimacy. Walter’s voice grew desperate. “You don’t need to do this, Debbie,” he said, glancing at Miles. “Stop this, Miles.”

Luke leaned forward, chuckling as he enjoyed the show. “Relax, Walter. Let her finish. She’s doing great.” Walter didn’t push her away, his body betraying his protests as Deborah continued, sucking obediently and looking up at the man she viewed as a father figure, pleasing him orally.

As the blonde sucked, Luke spoke up again, his tone professional as if fellatio wasn’t taking place mere inches from where he sat. “You put together a compelling presentation for us today, but we will need to wait for Deborah to arrive and show off her model before we can finalize our decision,” he said, glancing around the table. The board members not engaged in sexual activity nodded slowly in agreement.

Miles paused, his grin fading as he lowered his head, suddenly adopting a more somber tone. “About that,” he said, his voice heavy with feigned regret. “I wish I didn’t have to be the one to reveal this, gentlemen.” He nodded toward the boardroom door, and Ned Jackson, the bespectacled Lead Scientist for Deborah’s Medical division, entered the room, his posture hesitant, as if he dreaded the moment. “Ned has something important to share with you all.”

Ned stood awkwardly, his eyes darting to Miles, who gave him a stern nod, urging the nerdy man to speak. “Umm, hi. Last week,” Ned began, his voice stuttering, “Deborah came into the lab after hours and tried to sneak in without me noticing.” He paused, swallowing hard, his discomfort palpable, but Miles’ unwavering stare pushed him to continue. “When I confronted her, she said she needed to borrow her synthetic skin prototype for a couple of days. I, umm, tried to stop her, but she… flirted with me, made promises she had no intention of keeping.” Ned paused and stared at the ground, as if he were filled with shame. “In a moment of weakness, I let her take it.”

Deborah’s mind screamed to refute the story, but her programmed response kept her plump lips moving up and down on Walter’s shaft, her humiliation deepening with every word.

Miles placed a hand on Ned’s shoulder, his expression grave. “Email and phone records that our IT department has recovered confirm Deborah was communicating with Second Skin Corp,” he said, prompting a gasp from the room at the mention of the company’s closest rival. “They offered her a Chief Product Officer role if she could deliver them her prototype. There are now rumors that SSC is planning to launch its own medical-based synthetic skin.”  The board members exchanged stunned glances, their faces hardening as the weight of the accusation settled. “Her corporate espionage has been reported to the police,” Miles continued, his tone resolute. “A warrant is out for her arrest.”

The boardroom fell silent, the weight of the revelations hanging heavy in the air, broken only by Walter’s low groans as Deborah’s red lips continued to please the Chief Executive. The blonde woman was unable to refute the disgusting accusation as she continued following the script her locked-in skin had laid out for her.

Miles pressed on. “I’m sure we can all agree that Deborah’s role as Head of Research for the Medical Division is no longer tenable,” he said, his gaze sweeping the table. “I propose that Ned take over in her stead. I acknowledge that his mistake led to this disaster, but he has shown remorse and bravery by coming clean today.” He raised his hand, signaling for a vote, omitting the fact that he had promised Ned the Head of Research role if he spoke in front of the board.

Robert leaned forward, his expression resolute. “I agree,” he said, raising his hand. “Ned’s shown accountability. He’s the right choice for the role.” Luke and Simon followed suit, their hands rising in approval. Walter, lost in the throes of pleasure, remained silent, his hands gripping the armrests as Deborah’s mouth worked, his face contorted with a lost, blissful expression.

Miles nodded, patting Ned on the back. “Congratulations, Ned,” he said, his tone warm as the bespectacled man offered a shy smile, his relief palpable. “You’ll do great things in the Medical Division.” Ned nodded, his posture straightening as he left the room, breathing a sigh of relief as his confession lifted a weight off his chest.

Simon cleared his throat and moved the conversation forward. “With everything out in the open, I’m happy to approve Miles’ technology for market,” he said, his tone decisive as if he were making the ruling on behalf of the group. “This synthetic skin is revolutionary, and it’s going to make us a lot of money.” He grinned as he looked over at Deborah’s bobbing blonde head. Robert and Luke nodded in agreement, their expressions reflecting the consensus, the boardroom buzzing with a sense of finality.

Walter’s groans grew louder, his body tensing as he finally reached climax, his warm load entering Deborah’s mouth, a sensation she had horrifically become accustomed to. She moaned out, her programming simulating an orgasm of her own as she swallowed the bitter seed, her bright eyes still locked on Walter’s as if she were some submissive trophy girlfriend. Robert chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “That doll really is something,” he said appreciatively, a smirk playing on his lips.

Simon glanced over at Miles, his voice matter-of-fact. “Gavin Power’s already made a bulk order for your product,” he said, “however, it comes with a unique stipulation. The man said it was non-negotiable.” Simon paused, his eyes flicking to Deborah, still kneeling before Walter, her nurse’s cap slightly askew.

Miles grinned, his gaze lingering on his busty former rival, fully aware of the stipulation that Gavin would have inserted. He had won, and Deborah’s transformation and humiliation were complete. Well, almost complete.

❖

Three Months Later

Debbie stood at attention, her back straight, her 34F breasts thrust forward invitingly, her lips frozen in an obscene O-shape, staring blankly ahead. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded in luscious waves down her back and over her shoulders, framing a face locked in the same bold, slutty makeup that she had been stuck with these past few months. The former executive wore a red latex bra with holes strategically placed to expose her erect nipples, the material inviting her huge tits up and outwards. A crotchless red g-string offered easy access to her slit, while a lightly buzzing black anal plug nestled firmly in her ass, a humiliating addition to her ensemble.

The “property” tattoo, once marking her, was gone, replaced by “Ditzy Debbie” in bold red cursive around her navel. White stockings with red lace trim hugged her smooth, hairless legs, paired with red 6-inch platform heels that kept her perched like some trophy. Her hands were positioned in front of her, holding a rectangular tray, perfectly still, which bore a bottle of whiskey, two empty glasses, and an ashtray, her body a living statue of submission.

Gavin Power leaned back in his chair, his tailored suit exuding charm and authority, and took both glasses from Debbie’s tray. He poured the scotch into each, slid one across the polished desk to his guest, took a sip of his own, and then placed the bottle and his glass back on the tray.

The Intima Creations CEO’s grin widened as he looked up at Miles, who was sitting on the opposite side of the desk. “I’m still grateful for your gift, Caldwell,” he said, his voice rich with satisfaction. He reached up, pinching Debbie’s exposed nipples like it was his right, eliciting a soft gasp from her O-shaped lips, though her body remained rigid and the tray held firm.

Miles, dressed in a green blazer, leaned back in his chair and stroked his goatee as his eyes met his busty former rival. “I’m glad she meets your standards, Gavin,” he said with pride. “Ditzy Debbie’s been a real asset, hasn’t she?” His eyes lingered on her, the tray unmoving in her hands, a testament to her programmed obedience.

Gavin pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket, lighting it with a flick of a gold lighter, the flame casting a brief glow across his face. He took a long puff, the smoke curling lazily in the air of his extravagant office. “I know how fond you were of her,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “It’s always hard to part with your top prototype, but your sacrifice sealed our partnership.” The wealthy, charismatic man leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he guided the lit cigar through the slit in Debbie’s crotchless panties, pushing it between the folds of her pussy until her muscles clenched it, holding it firmly as a degrading cigar holder. Despite the soft gasp escaping the blonde’s lips, her body remained still.

Debbie had been subjected to countless sex acts and degrading tasks over the last few months, and she obeyed immediately, showing no reluctance in her compliance. However, despite all of that, the former executive’s mind screamed out for her to stop. She hadn’t given up on finding an escape and getting out of the synthetic skin prison, but for her to do that, she knew Gavin would have to make a mistake. She needed to bide her time.

Miles chuckled, his gaze following the cigar’s placement with approval. “Yes, it was a tough decision,” he admitted lightly. “But it got easier once I finalized my second prototype.” He glanced to his side with amusement, where a woman bounced in a consistent rhythm on her knees.

The woman’s unnaturally fiery red hair was tied into high pigtails, bouncing with each rhythmic motion, framing a face transformed into a bimbo prototype. Heavy pink eyeshadow coated her lids, long false eyelashes fluttered with each bounce, and her lips, painted glossy pink, were massive, enhanced to their maximum size. A black latex corset cinched her waist tightly, pushing up her huge, enhanced E cup breasts, their roundness exaggerated and unnatural. A black crotchless thong exposed her slit, glistening as she moved, paired with black fishnet stockings that stuck to her toned legs, ending in 5-inch black patent stilettos that jutted out as she sat on her knees. The slutty woman’s eyes were crossed, and her tongue jutted out of her mouth in a cartoonish ahegao face, locking her expression into a state of perpetual degradation. Her body bounced relentlessly on a thick, black dildo anchored to the floor, her enhanced tits jiggling with each thrust, her mind trapped inside her programmed obedience.

“Silly Sammy here is my pride and joy,” Miles said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he reached over, groping her massive breasts, his fingers sinking into the synthetic flesh. “She’s been perfected to my exact specifications.” The redhead’s ahegao expression remained fixed as the man spoke about her, her tongue swaying as she continued her obedient bouncing, a living monument to Miles’ control.

Gavin took another puff of his cigar, the smoke swirling as he leaned back, his eyes flicking to Debbie’s rigid form. “Did the police ever catch that spying slut that tried to sell you out to Second Skin Corp?” he asked casually, referring to the fabricated espionage Miles had pinned on Deborah.

Miles shook his head, his smirk widening as he sipped his scotch. “No, the cops are still searching for her,” he said, his gaze sliding to Debbie, her tray steady as Gavin reinserted his cigar back inside her pussy. “There’s been no trace of her, I’m afraid. I’m sure she’s relaxing on a beach in the Bahamas by now.”

The CEO grinned, his eyes glinting as he leaned back and swirled his scotch. “That’s a shame,” he said, “I’d love to have seen her get what she deserves.”

Miles glanced across at Debbie with a wide smile on his face, noting her sex doll, wide-eyed expression, her slutty apparel, her motionless, ornamental form, and the degradation she is subjected to daily. “Ohh, I’m sure she will,” he chuckles to himself as he pries himself away from her view, oblivious to the screaming executive beneath the controlled facade.

Gavin raised his glass. “To a bright future,” he said in a celebratory tone as he clinked glasses with his business partner. Gavin returned the gesture, the pair’s laughter filling the room, a cruel celebration of Miles’ victory. Debbie and Sammy remained frozen in their roles, their former identities erased, and their bodies permanently trapped as obedient dolls, forever bound to serve.

The End.