; ; The client, heir to a banking fortune in Canada, nodded impatiently as ; he perched on his chair in the showroom.. He was young, he had ; speedboats and vacation houses and girlfriends and more money than he ; knew what to do with. Which suited Max just fine, because his firm ; catered to exactly such clientele. Max pressed a button on his desk.
; ; The door opened, and a woman trainer escorted the man's ; custom-designed LoveDoll to stand in the center of the room. The young ; man blinked. "She's so. . . perfect," was all he could manage. And Max ; could not disagree--they had done themselves proud with this one.
; ; The girl had amber hair whose tresses slipped over her bare ; shoulders. Her face was oval-shaped, her lips large with just the ; right amount of pouting sensuality. The LoveDoll kept her eyes ; downcast, the long lashes giving her a vulnerable, demure look. And ; her body--three months of rigorous conditioning, the attentions of ; some of the world's most accomplished cosmetic surgeons, and the ; natural comely shape of the original kidnaped girl all combined to ; make her the equal of any centerfold.
; ; "She's. . . quite amazing," said the young man, unable to hide his ; excitement.. "And she's programmed exactly as I wanted?"
; ; "Of course," said Max. "Neural imprinting of your personal behavior ; requests, as well as the basic obedience and sexual stimulation ; programs."
; ; "What's her name?"
; ; Max smiled, and took a cigarette out of his gold case. "What do you ; want her name to be?"
; ; The man thought. "Amber," he said at last, as if he had not been ; thinking about it constantly for the last six months.
; ; "Amber it is, then," said Max. His hand touched a remote control ; device on the desk. "Tell her."
; ; The young man cast a sidelong look at Max, then cleared his ; throat. "Your name is Amber," he said. The girl's lashes rose up just ; long enough to gaze lovingly him.
; ; "Yes, sir," she said in her soft contralto.
; ; The young man rose and walked around her as if he were in a museum ; admiring a piece of sculpture. "And she will do anything I say?"
; ; "Of course. That is what we offer here to our clients. Total beauty, ; total compliance. She's been conditioned to think of your pleasure as ; her only function. Advanced sexual technique modules have all been ; incorporated into personality. And naturally, her body has been ; modified to enhance your pleasure, in ways which I will allow you to ; discover on your own."
; ; "The body suit is self-contained, permeated with the skin. It can be ; obsidian black, metallic, or natural." And Max's fingers danced ; expertly over the control device as he talked, making the LoveDoll's ; body shimmer into the alternatives--each one seeming more alluring ; than the last.
; ; "You've done her breasts perfectly," said the young man, marveling at ; the fullness and perfectly shaped orbs, with their rosy areola and ; stiffened nipples. "May I?"
; ; "By all means, after all, she is your property now," said Max, with a ; magnanimous wave of his hand. The man and walked completely around the ; girl. His fingertips tentatively trailed over her body. Emboldened, he ; cupped the Love Doll's breasts, rolled her nipples with his thumb and ; forefingers. The LoveDoll's long lashes fluttered, and her breathing ; became fast and shallow. The man's hand then roamed over her flat ; stomach, her curvaceous flanks, before his fingers probed the shaved ; lips of her sex. "She's wet," he said in mild wonder.
; ; Max smiled. "I would wager she was soaking the minute we brought her ; in. Biochemical conditioning. Her chemoreceptors have been adjusted to ; respond to your pheromones."
; ; "Huh?"
; ; "That means just having you in the same room sends her into a sexual ; heat. We've done neurological scans in the clinic; their pleasure ; centers light up like a Christmas tree," Max said with a chuckle. "A ; command from you, and she'd probably orgasm right here."
; ; The client took a deep breath. "Show me."
; ; Max tossed him the control unit. "You've had our course in LoveDoll ; control. Press the O button."
; ; The client did so. Amber (as she now was tagged) closed her eyes and ; tilted her head slightly back. Her hands crept to her breasts, ; massaging them with increasing intensity. Then her fingers slipped ; between her legs...and she gave a long shudder and collapsed into the ; arms of the client.
; ; "That's really something," he said. He looked a little bashful. "I ; know you get these. . . LoveDolls from various sources. Can you tell ; me what she did before she was, uh, acquired?"
; ; Max shook his head. "We would prefer not to. Keep in mind she's not a ; person anymore, with a past that has to be reconciled. She's your toy, ; your plaything. Believe me when I tell you that she has been totally ; converted into your personal sex slave. Somebody in your position has ; a right to the finer things in life, and this just happens to be one ; of them."
; ; The client tilted his head in acceptance. "And the financial ; arrangements are all satisfactory?" he asked.
; ; Max said, "Yes, your account draft was received yesterday. Thank ; you. It's a privilege doing business with someone who appreciates ; quality. Now if you just step out this way. . ."
; ; The client took his LoveDoll gently by the arm and guided her through ; the door opened by Max. When they were gone, Max checked for messages, ; and nodded in satisfaction. Another acquisition was in progress. And ; high time, too, with such a demand for the product. . .
; ;
; ; The minibus of Kappa Beta Phi sorority barreled over the road to the ; beach. Spring break was finally here, and the girls shrieked and ; laughed as the bus swerved in its hurry to reach the beach for the ; week of fun.
; ; "Hey, watch those curves!" shouted Brittany over her shoulder, almost ; toppling over the seat she was kneeling backwards on.
; ; "Watch your own!" shot back Samantha at the wheel as she glanced ; through the rearview mirror at Brittany's tight-clad shorts and ; voluptuously filled t-shirt. "You're jailbait, girl!"
; ; The sorority sisters giggled with glee. "Bring on the boys!" came a ; yell from the back of the bus. Somebody opened the cooler, and chilled ; cans of beer were passed from seat to seat. Samantha, her blonde hair ; a mop, accepted a can and took a hearty swig, while her other hand ; pounded the steering wheel to the beat of the blaring radio.
; ; A siren suddenly wailed behind them. "Oh, noooooo!" one of the girls ; cried. "Cops!" There was a mad scramble to put away the beer. Samantha ; glanced out the side window her beer can still held high on the ; steering wheel, and her eyes met the reflection sunglasses of an ; officer in a patrol van next to her as he gestured her to pull ; over. "We're toast," she muttered. She nudged the minivan over to the ; side of the road, and began rehearsing her sweet-and- innocent act.
; ; Brittany had her own plan. She quickly opened a water bottle and ; splashed the liquid over her T-shirt.
; ; "What are you doing?" one of the girls asked.
; ; Brittany smiled her dazzling smile and looked down at the soaked ; t-shirt hugging the contours of her ripe breasts. "Cops are men, ; aren't they? It's worked before."
; ; The sorority sisters heard the doors of the parked patrol van slam ; behind them. Two officers sauntered up to the driver's window.
; ; "License and registration, please, Ma'am," said one.
; ; "Was I speeding, officer?" asked Samantha as she dug into her ; purse. "I'm awfully sorry, it's just that we're late to meet our ; parents, and--"
; ; The officer held up an imperious hand. "Just let me see your license ; and registration, please, Ma'am". Glumly, Samantha handed them ; over. In the meantime, Brittany had clamored out the bus, her t-shirt ; clinging to her jiggling breasts, and leaned nonchalantly against the ; minibus and smiled with seductive innocence at the cops. She parted ; her tanned legs slightly and gave a long, luxurious overarm stretch to ; thrust her breasts even further out, straining against the soaked ; cotton of the t-shirt. "I hope we haven't been too bad," she said ; coquettishly. One of them gave her an expressionless look through the ; dark glasses and went back to his scrutiny of the license. "This has ; expired," one finally said. "And I believe we saw some drinking. We ; need everybody to get off the bus, and bring your ID's." There were ; chirps of dismay, but the girls--eight of them in all--were soon lined ; up by the minivan showing various stages of concern. One of the ; officers heaved himself inside the minivan. Samantha leaned over to ; another scantily-clad girl. "My daddy is going to kill me if I get a ; ticket," she complained. They fretted under the sun, sweat beginning ; to run down there barely-clad bodies in rivulets.
; ; The officer emerged from the van. In his hand were small plastic bags ; filled with pills. "Look what I found on the bus," he said ; accusingly. The girls exchanged wide-eyed glances. "We're going to ; have to take you in, all of you," continued the officer.
; ; "Not just a minute!" snapped Samantha. "None of us brought drugs or ; anything on the bus."
; ; "How did you know they were drugs?" countered the officer. "No more ; sass out of anybody. Come along!" he barked. The officers herded the ; protesting girls into the van parked behind the bus.
; ; "But what about our bus?" demanded Samantha before she was shoved ; through the back door of the van.
; ; "It will be taken care of," said the officer as he closed and locked ; the door. The van drove off, leaving one of the officers behind, the ; one who had "discovered" the contraband. He climbed onto the minibus, ; turned on the ignition, and drove it to a deserted stretch of coast, a ; high cliff where the sea met the mountains. He slowed the bus to where ; the guard-rail had been carefully weakened. The officer prepared to ; dismount the bus, keeping one hand on the steering wheel--then gunned ; the engine. With an athletic leap, he rolled to safety as the minibus ; smashed into the guard railing and toppled into the depths of the ; crashing sea below. The officer stood up and pulled out his cell ; phone.
; ; "Operation successful," he called in. "Eight items retrieved, vehicle ; disposed." Then the officer took off his bogus police cap and waited ; for retrieval.
; ; The man known only as Max leaned back in his executive chair and ; regarded the Director of Marketing with patience. The office had a ; minimalist ambiance, with glass and chrome and various high-tech ; communication equipment. A large-screen television stood turned off at ; one side of the room; at the other side was a empty pedestal backlit ; with concealed stage lamps, as if any moment Max expected somebody to ; bring in a piece of art for display there.
; ; "We're backlogged for orders, and I'm beginning to get complaints from ; some of our best clients," said Marketing. "You know what they're ; like--getting what they want when they want it, is their mode of ; life. If they want to eat dinner in Paris, they fly there. If they've ; been promised a love doll of their dreams, they want it now."
; ; Max steepled his fingers, his gold cuffs glinting on his monogrammed ; sleeves. "Surely they understand our difficulties," he said. "These ; girls are not easy to come by. They do not just drop in our laps like ; overripe apples. Why, just look at Maria," he said, tilting his head ; to his personal office LoveDoll. She knelt naked and submissive by his ; chair, the long lashes of her eyes lowered, her long dark hair brushed ; over her shoulders to rest on her full breasts. Her hands lay open, ; her lips slightly parted, her body available for immediate use as much ; as the computer consoles or television screens that lined the ; office. As if reciting the LoveDoll's provenance to a customer, Max ; said, "First noticed by our scouts while she was doing standard runway ; work as a model in Milan. Background check to assure no entangling ; relationships, two months. Acquisition took four months to plan and ; execute, done in such a way as to suggest no foul play. Physical ; enhancements--" and Max's hand reached down to strum her always-erect ; nipples--"two months of treatment and recuperation, then another two ; months for mental conditioning and programming. Each one of our ; LoveDolls is a work of art, not a mass-produced commodity."
; ; "Yes," grumbled Marketing, "try telling that to the Saudi princes, or ; the CEOs of those new Silicon Valley start-up tycoons, who have the ; money to demand instant gratification in every other facet of their ; lives, so why not with their LoveDoll?" He lay a stack of requisition ; orders on the glass-topped table that served as Max's working space as ; if offering evidence before a judge. "Here's an order for two blondes ; from that retired publisher in New York. Here, , a Japanese ; industrialist sent over his plane, expecting to pick one up off the ; shelf, apparently. This one, a banking titan in Liechtenstein in ; Europe--"
; ; "I know where Liechtenstein is," interrupted Max dryly , whose accent ; suggested his own European origins.
; ; "--wants someone who looks like his deceased wife, God knows why, I've ; seen the woman's picture. Now this one," he said, fluttering a ; requisition order in the air, "is really interesting. Some aging film ; star in Hollywood who's demanding twins--I mean, it's endless, Max." ; Marketing gave a massive shrug of despair.
; ; "What's currently in the pipeline?" asked Max, his hand stroking the ; glossy hair of Maria in an absent-minded way. The LoveDoll was already ; breathing shallowly, her breasts rising and falling in seductive ; rhythm, conditioned as she was to get aroused at his merest touch.
; ; Marketing said, "Fourteen undergoing basic programming, eleven ; physical conditioning. Three in the clinic with body enhancements."
; ; Max spun in his chair to tap the keyboard of the computer behind. He ; nodded in satisfaction at the information on the screen. "And eight ; more acquisitions as of this morning, ready to start basic ; indoctrination."
; ; Marketing shook his head. "That's what, about thirty-five subjects? We ; have orders for over a hundred. Ready buyers with cash in their hands, ; Max. Even if we doubled the price, the demand would still be there."
; ; Max said, "Patience, my friend. I've already put my long-range ; strategy into play. Plan on a steady source of subjects in the ; future. In the meantime, continue to accept orders, but emphasize to ; our clients that we need a little time to provide them with the woman ; of their dreams."
; ; Marketing looked at Max closely. "What do you mean, long-range ; strategy?"
; ; Max offered one of his enigmatic smiles. "Ah, leave that to me."
; ; A buzzer sounded, and his secretary voice said, "Max, the new ; acquisitions have come in."
; ; "Excellent," said Max. Then, to Marketing: "Shall we see our new ; guests? Let's bring Maria. He pressed the "Follow" command on his ; wrist console, and Maria rose gracefully and fell into step behind the ; two men as they strode to the reception room.
; ;
; ; Standing in row, some teary-eyed and all of them, naked, the seven ; kidnaped girls stared at them in trepidation. Cuffs held the girls' ; wrists securely behind them, and hobble-chains on their ankles ; prevented any thought of escape. Bright red ball-gags kept their ; voices to mere helpless mewing. Max nodded to the grinning "officers" ; who stood guard. "Good job, gentlemen," he said. Then he gave the ; women his horse-trader's appraisal, looking them up and down and ; judging the potential of each new recruit.
; ; Max smoothed his elegant-cut suit and said, "Welcome to all of ; you. I'm sure you all feel rather anxious and distressed at what has ; happened. But rest assured nobody means you any harm. As a matter of ; fact, I'm sure you'll find the days ahead to be quite exciting and ; even pleasurable."
; ; Samantha struggled and hissed behind her gag, her beautiful brown eyes ; blazing. With a short inclination of his head, Max indicated to the ; guards to release the gag. Samantha immediately shrilled, "What are ; you doing to us? And who the hell are you? I demand to talk to ; whatever jerk is in charge of this place." One of the guards made a ; move toward her, but Max shook his head.
; ; He said to her in a calm voice, "I'm called Max. And I am the one who ; is in charge here."
; ; "Then you'd better let us go!" spat Samantha. "Or my daddy, when he ; finds out, is going to just killlll you!"
; ; Max smiled. "I don't think your father will find you. And to tell you ; the truth, young lady, even if he did, I rather doubt he would very ; much miss you, to tell you the truth, after reviewing your record. But ; be that as it may, you must all accept that fact that nobody knows you ; are here, that events have been arranged to prove that you all died in ; a rather tragic accident involving your vehicle being driven off the ; road and into the sea. A terrible tragedy, the result of too much ; partying." One of the girls, Brittany, whose still-damp t-shirt ; displayed her marvelous chest, began weeping behind her gag, her large ; breasts heaving up and down with each little sob. "There, there," said ; Max, patting her shoulder. "Things aren't that bad. You're all going ; to be well cared for, pampered, even. First, perhaps, a ; demonstration. . .? And Max's fingers tapped the "Stand" command on ; his wrist console.
; ; Maria rose. The captives stared at the beautiful girl, standing in ; almost sculpted perfection in shimmering bodysuit that seemed to ; accentuate her every curve and contour, so thin its smoothness looked ; line a second skin--even the nipples on her perfectly rounded breasts ; were fully defined. Her eyes had a look of serene calm, like twin ; still pools of water. Max ran his hand over her flanks in a fond, ; proprietary way.
; ; "When Maria came to us, she was just as nervous as you all of you, ; surely," he said. "But after completing a full program, you see her ; now. And who is to say she is not as happy as she's ever been?" He ; cupped one of her breasts and ran his fingers over her nipples. Maria ; gave little shudder of pleasure.
; ; Samantha tore her eyes off that blatant display of carnality, and ; Maria's compliant response to it. "What do you mean, a full program?" ; she snapped. "What is this place?"
; ; Max said, "We're . .an employment agency. We select candidates such as ; yourselves, train them, then place them with clients who desire their ; services. Along the way, we help the candidates make certain ; psychological adjustments to their situation, and usually include some ; physical conditioning and beauty enhancement as well." He continued to ; stroke Maria as he spoke.
; ; Samantha snarled, "Well get this, mister--we don't want your friggin' ; program, and we don't care about your clients, and you'd better let us ; go right now before--mmmmph!" Her outburst was cut off as one of the ; guards jammed the gag back in place.
; ; Max eyed her carefully. Hmmm, he thought, lots of spirit in that ; one. He thought of a special request from one of the clients, a ; big-game hunter. "Sorry to bring our little dialogue to a close, my ; dear," he said, "but we really ought to get started." He turned to the ; guards. "Gentlemen, if you could escort these ladies to the ; examination room. Tell Dr. Chacornac to visit with me about this ; one"--he gestured to the struggling Samantha--"and this one too," he ; said, pointing now to the large-bosomed Brittany.
; ; As the girls were being forcibly escorted out of the room and into ; their new lives, Marketing said glumly. "Eight girls. Not nearly ; enough to fill demand."
; ; Max said, "Leave that to me. It's well in hand."
; ;
; ; Darcie McVey, celebrity host of "It's a Girl's World", smiled into the ; camera as her TV show drew to a close. Her face was pretty, if not ; beautiful, and her voice was honey-sweet. "I thought our viewing ; audience had some excellent call-ins on today's topic, Flirting in the ; Office.' Before saying goodbye until tomorrow, I want to say a word of ; thanks to all of you who sent me flowers when I got my sniffles last ; week. You're all so kind. . . It's those little gestures that make me ; want to reach out and hug every one of you. And keep your fan mail ; coming in, I try to read all of your letters. Really I do." Her eyes ; twinkled as she recited her standard sign-off. "And now we have to ; go. See you tomorrow, and remember--it's a girl's world, out there!" ; Darcie smiled perkily and waved as the theme music melded in.
; ; "Cut to commercial," said the producer. "Good job, everybody."
; ; "Good job, my ass!" snarled Darcie, the perky smile replaced by a ; sneer. "I had make-up running down my cheeks, but did any of you ; notice? No! And the light was bouncing off the glass tabletop again ; right into my eyes. I thought you were going to fix that."
; ; "Sorry, Miss McVey," said the producer. "I'll get somebody from tech ; support--"
; ; "And do something about all those flowers in my dressing room! The ; place is beginning to look like a friggin' funeral home!"
; ; Darcie McVey stormed out of the studio. In her wake followed her newly ; assigned assistant, Louise. When Darcie got to her dressing room, she ; flung herself into the chair next to the lighted mirror and began ; wiping away her show make-up. Louise stuck her head in the door.
; ; "Miss McVey?" called Louise. "I got the schedule for next week, if ; you'd like to approve those topics." Darcie snatched the clipboard out ; of her hand. As she read, Louise's eyes could not help but rove over ; plush dressing room, done to Darcie's McVey's precise demands. Gilded ; mirrors. Italian marble on the floor. And the walls were plastered ; with celebrity photographs of the rich & famous she had interviewed, ; and Darcie's boyfriends over the years, displayed like trophies. The ; fact that the last boyfriend's smiling face was impaled with a ; letter-opener showed, in terms of the psycho-babble that was a ; hallmark of her show, that Darcie had not yet "achieved closure over ; the broken relationship."
; ; "Some of those topics look kinda interesting," ventured Louise ; hesitantly. She knew about Darcie's reputation as a bitch-celebrity ; boss to work for--the screaming tantrums, the demand her staff run her ; personal errands, her assumption that her assistance come running at ; the merest whim.
; ; "They're garbage," retorted Darcie, as she flung the clipboard to ; dressing table. "How many times do I have to tell them that I want to ; have serious shows from now on. I've paid my dues on their silly ; little good-housekeeping program, and I want some kinghell RESPECT!" ; Louise froze at the venom in the woman's voice. Darcie snatched the ; memo off her desk. "Just listen to topics," she said, and read, "Ten ; Tips for Terrific Toenails'. . . Making Your Husband Fall in Love With ; You All Over Again," . . . "Do's and Don'ts on the First Date.'" She ; flung the paper back down. "This makes me want to puke!"
; ; The assistant Louise blinked through her thick glasses as the darling ; of the afternoon talk shows rip through some cursing that would have ; made a drill instructor blush. "But Miss McVey," she protested ; obsequiously, "you have the highest rated show in the afternoon time ; slot in the country. All my friends just adore your programs. Why, ; just look at what happened to those bunny-tail bedroom slippers you ; endorsed--one little quip from you on your program last week, and the ; stores have run out. You can't find them anywhere."
; ; Darcie McVey rolled her eyes and said, "But can't anybody at network ; headquarters see I'm sick of gushing over things like bunny-tail ; bedroom slippers?" she said. "I want to interview Senators and CEO's ; and foreign leaders. I want to report on world events, not tea parties ; and the latest make-up fads. I'm beyond all that now, I don't care how ; much they pay me. I am not some kind of" Darcie paused with her lips ; pursed, trying to come up with the right word, " . . . ornament for ; their mindless talk shows." Darcie's eyes narrowed on the dowdy figure ; of her assistant. "You've been working for me for six months now, and ; you haven't done a thing to help me!"
; ; "Me?" quailed Louise. "I mean, what could I possibly do to help?"
; ; "Haven't you been listening? Find me some good programs. You're an ; assistant producer--so you'd better start producing something," ; snapped Darcie McVey. "I'm really not sure you're giving me a full ; hundred percent motivation."
; ; "Oh, Miss McVey, I'd do anything for you, you know that. . ." said ; Louise quickly, aware that Darcie's last assistant lasted exactly ; three days.
; ; I'm stuck with losers, thought Darcie to herself. Just look at my ; so-called assistant: frumpy, terrible make-up, clothes straight from ; the bargain bin. And those black-rimmed glasses look like something my ; mother would have worn. Darcie's practiced eye could see her assistant ; could be quite attractive if she took care of herself. But Darcie was ; not about to waste her time educating her. She was aware how much her ; own looks and sex appeal added to her career, and she was not about to ; let anyone outshine her. Not now, not when she could become a real ; television personality, not just last year's blonde.
; ; "Well then?" demanded Darcie. "Any ideas?"
; ; Louise nervously ran her hands over her wrinkled cotton blouse and ; said, "Well, there is something, maybe, I could do. I know somebody ; who works a company that, likes, investigates accidents for the ; police, and this friend, he's on the team doing that accident last ; week, you know, where those sorority girls were killed going over that ; cliff into the sea? At least they thought they were all killed. Well, ; my friend said they had found some odd kind of connections to a string ; of other disappearances--all young women, all gone without a trace. I ; might be able to get a peek at his file. . ." she added hopefully, ; pathetic in her eagerness to please Darcie McVey. "I know he said he ; had some photos of the missing girls."
; ; Darcie said, "Hmmm.... an investigative report...all right, ; Louise. Get that file and we'll have a look."
; ; Louise paused at the doorway. "Um, Miss McVey, if I do a good job, ; could you give me screen credit as the producer on this report? I ; mean, if it comes to anything? It would really help my career."
; ; "Of course, Louise, "said Darcie McVey. "If you make this happen, I'd ; be glad to give you credit along my name." When hell freezes over, you ; little parasite, Darcie added silently to herself. She flung herself ; off the make-up chair and headed for her closet, but tripped over a ; bouquet of irises propped against the wall. "Will somebody do ; something about all these damn flowers!" she yelled.
; ;
; ; Two weeks later Max was having dinner in his favorite Manhattan ; restaurant. Uptown, first class food, and a wine list that made him ; feel he was back in France. He was just sipping his after-dinner ; Napoleon brandy when a woman marched up to his table.
; ; "I believe they call you Max," she said.
; ; Max calmly put down his brandy snifter and looked up at her through ; his rimless glasses. "You have me at a disadvantage," he said. "You ; know me, but I do not know you." He frowned, then smiled. "But ; wait--of course I recognize you. I have even seen your show on the ; television from time to time. But I cannot remember your name, forgive ; me."
; ; "You'll know it soon enough," said the woman. She glanced at the empty ; chair on the other side of the table, and slid into it before Max ; could invite her. "My name is Darcie McVey," she said as she smoothed ; her dress to take her seat, keeping her attache case on her lap.
; ; "Ah, but of course," said Max. "Your program is quite. . . amusing. Do ; you often invite yourself to the table of gentlemen to whom you have ; not been introduced? I still find the customs of this country very ; interesting. Would you care for something to drink?"
; ; "Cut the Old World charm, Max," said Darcie McVey. "And as for my ; program, you're going to find it even more amusing. Because you are ; going to be on it."
; ; Max raised an eyebrow. "Oh? To what do I owe this honor?"
; ; Darcie produced a file from her attache case. "Look at this," she said ; simply.
; ; Max opened the file hesitantly. He flipped through the papers idly, ; then a frown creased his mouth and he began studying them in ; earnest. Darcie smiled to herself. That's right, Max, you can start ; sweating now, she thought. It was critical for her to keep the ; initiative.
; ; When Max finished the file, he fished in his coat pocket for a ; cigarette case, and carefully selected one. He leaned back in a cloud ; of smoke, holding the slim cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, ; palm up. "So where did you get these . . . fabrications, Miss McVey?" ; he asked.
; ; "That doesn't matter, does it, Max?"
; ; "It might." Max flipped through the file ; again. "Prostitution. . .kidnaping. . .money ; laundering. . ..connections to offshore powers. . .these are all ; serious accusations."
; ; "That's right, Max. And you're going to hear them broadcast live on my ; show. Tonight."
; ; "I didn't think your program dealt with such issues, Miss McVey." He ; took a leisurely puff on his cigarette. Classical piano music floated ; in from the bar.
; ; Darcie was struck by his calm. So as not to be out-maneuvered, she ; produced a slim cigar, lit it, and matched her smoke for his. "It ; hasn't, up to now. But all that's going to change. I intend to blow ; the whistle on your little operation."
; ; Max said, "Ah, but such threats usually come with an offer. What is ; your offer, Miss McVey? Surely this conversation is not merely to ; alert me to watch your program so I can find out more about myself, ; and alert my lawyers to start a defamation lawsuit immediately against ; you and your network."
; ; Darcie's heart was hammering, although she kept her face composed. She ; knew the file that Louise filched from the investigators was a ; collection of loose leads, nothing definite. And she really did not ; have a clear idea what this man was up to. But this was her big chance ; to do a serious show. Time to bluff, she thought.
; ; "Oh, that's just a fraction of what we've accumulated. You'll have to ; see the show to get the full picture. And as for my offer, it's this: ; I want the inside scoop of your operation. I want a guided tour of ; your whole network--personal interviews, background, the works. And I ; want an exclusive--just me."
; ; Max was silent for a minute. "Even if I admitted these fantastic ; charges, why would I open our operation to you?"
; ; Darcie McVey said, "Because I'm willing to hold the broadcast and give ; you time to close your network and get out of the country with your ; skin."
; ; Max took another draw on his cigarette. Then he said, "Suppose we just ; forget about the show, and I just make a counter-offer to you. A ; financial reward for your. . .discretion, in not doing this show."
; ; "No deal. I want this story."
; ; Max sighed. "Very well, suppose you join me this evening in my ; penthouse, and bring that file with you--"
; ; Darcie McVey snorted. "And wind up in the bottom of Hudson River, and ; the file burned in your fireplace? No thanks. I've made sure that ; somebody else knows about this, and will act immediately if I ; disappear like your other victims." And Darcie thought that Louise ; finally did have her uses, if only for agreeing to keep a copy of the ; file as a guarantee. It was Louise who implored Darcie not to risk ; herself, but Darcie was not about to share the spotlight with ; anybody. Louise was something of a little fool, with her meek ; submissiveness and dowdy appearance. But at least she could keep her ; mouth shut. So Darcie McVey had instructed her carefully that if she ; did not return in two days, to call the police and come and rescue ; her. Even that might make a good story, if things don't work out, she ; thought.
; ; Max smiled without humor like a man forced to show his low cards. He ; seemed to think for a while, then said, "As I said before, Miss McVey, ; you seem to have me at a disadvantage. I agree to your proposal. But I ; would need three weeks to close our operation here with a minimum of ; disruption, and arrange for residence in a country without extradition ; procedures. We anticipated sooner or later this day would come, you ; see."
; ; "Three weeks?" repeated Darcie. Three weeks would mean, if the file ; were to be believed, there were kidnap victims already in the ; pipeline. Three weeks would mean they would probably disappear to ; wherever Max dispatched his captives. So what? she said to herself. As ; long as I get this story.
; ; "Max, you have yourself a deal," she said.
; ;
; ; They left immediately. Darcie insisted on it, knowing that was her ; best protection against a set up. But as Max settled his bill, she had ; time to call up Louise to let her know she "was going in," as she put ; it dramatically, and to remind the little nitwit--one more time!-- ; about what to do if Darcie didn't contact her by the next day. Max's ; limousine picked them up outside the restaurant. He murmured a word to ; the driver, and Darcie McVey found herself watching through the tinted ; windows as the streets flashed by. Eventually they stopped somewhere ; on the upper East side at a nondescript brownstone. Max led the way ; down some steps where a doorman made a little bow to Max and opened ; the door. Darcie found herself in a plush reception area, like the ; lobby of a grand hotel.
; ; Darcie McVey had dressed according to her concept of the Investigative ; Journalist in the Field--trenchcoat with the strapped pulled tight ; across her slim waist, pullover jacket with pockets filled with pens ; and recorders and tiny secret cameras Louise had procured for her--and ; sensible shoes. As she looked around, she began to feel a little ; self-conscious about her appearance. After all, her image from her ; talk show was one of carefully cultivated style. And the receptionists ; in the lobby dressed in designer outfits, all of them young and ; beautiful and very deferential to Max.
; ; "How's business?" he asked as they took his coat.
; ; "Very good tonight, sir," said a striking brunette. She wore a low-cut ; dress and what appeared to be an elegantly-styled black velvet choker ; around her slim neck. "A table for two, then, sir?"
; ; Max led her through a side door into a large anteroom. From behind a ; second set of doors, Darcie could hear muted thump of dance music. Max ; inserted an entrance card into a slot and escorted his guest ; inside. Darcie's eyes opened wide.
; ; A cavernous club seethed with motion and lights and sensuous shadows ; and the clink of glasses. Laughter and whispers and bubbling ; conversation provided background to the music, music that seemed keyed ; precisely into some deep throbbing sensual rhythm. As her eyes ; adjusted to the dark, Darcie could make out dance stages where ; beautiful women swayed and flowed to the beat of the music. Other ; girls sat with the clientele, or danced before them, topless as on ; stage.. Waitresses, dressed as scantily as the dancers, circulated ; among the audience tendering drinks and meals to the patrons.
; ; Darcie's heart sank. So this was the big secret--a strip club? Not ; exactly the great expose of my career, she thought. A hostess greeting ; Max with the same deferential familiarity as the receptionists, and ; guided them to a table. Max ordered drinks, and Darcie was so busy ; looking around that she did not notice that Max ordered drinks.
; ; From their table at the center of the club, Darcie could see that club ; was even larger than she had seen from the doorway. It was built on ; many levels, with the revolving colored lights revealing nooks and ; crannies and corners. Occasionally a door would open in some far wall, ; and Darcie caught a glimpse of more stages, more dancers, throngs of ; clients--mostly men but with a few women--moving easily between the ; rooms.
; ; And then she noticed that each dancer wore a collar embossed with a ; name. No DJ's voice boomed over the club, yet the dancers ebbed and ; flowed onto the stages in perfect order. Darcie noticed other patterns ; in the room as well. The clientele seemed wealthy, completely at ease, ; with business attire or even evening dress. She caught sight of some ; exotic outfits--two men with trimmed beards wearing the checkered ; headdress of Saudi princes, their dark eyes glued to the dance ; stages. The waitresses were uncommonly attractive. Where could Max ; find such good looking women to serve as waitresses, she ; wondered. Each one could pass as a supermodel. But if the waitresses ; were beautiful, the dancers were. . . goddesses.
; ; Darcie knew a thing or two about feminine beauty. After all, she got ; her start in broadcasting on the strength of her own tawny good ; looks. But these dancers seem to possess an innate sensuality that ; stoked desire, combined with bodies that seemed utterly perfected to ; slake any man's appetites. Or woman's, Darcie conceded to herself, as ; her eyes locked with those of a dark-haired dancer on a nearby stage.
; ; A waitress appeared out of the darkness bearing the drinks. Darcie ; absently accepted the cold glass, then asked, "What is this?"
; ; "Why, merely Chardonnay wine," said Max.
; ; This gave Darcie pause. "That happens to be my favorite drink," she ; said suspiciously. "How do I know it's not drugged?"
; ; Max looked at her thoughtfully, then switched glasses. "If there be ; poison in thy wine," he quoted, "then let my life pay for thine." And ; he quaffed the brandy and gave her one of his infuriating half-smiles.
; ; Darcie could not help but smile herself. "All right, I believe you." ; she said. "So all this is yours?" she asked with a sweep of her hand.
; ; "I look after things here," answered Max vaguely.
; ; "So where do you get all these good looking babes?"
; ; "Oh, from the usual sources. We have quite a reputation among the ; entertainers. Some of them come from overseas."
; ; "And where do you come from, Max?"
; ; "Me? Oh, Miss McVey, in my business one becomes something of a ; . . .citizen of the world."
; ; "You aren't very informative."
; ; "Alas, it's my nature," he said. He followed Darcie's eyes to the ; dark-haired dancer. Max raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Does that one ; appeal to you? Would you like a performance?"
; ; "Oh, no thanks," said Darcie. "Just looking." But Max beckoned the ; dancer over to their table. The girl slid off the stage compliantly ; and made her way to their table. Another dancer immediately took her ; place on the empty stage.
; ; "This is Celeste," said Max. Darcie stuck out her hand. But Celeste ; gracefully knelt in front of Darcie's feet.
; ; "Oh, really," protested Darcie. But then the music began another set, ; and Celeste rose slowly to the beat of the rhythm.
; ; Darcie's sexual experience with other women was limited to a few ; college "experiments" (as she thought of them) with other coeds, and ; fending off the occasional butch passes at her own beauty. But nothing ; had prepared her for the seductive spell of the dancer in front of ; her. Celeste weaved back and forth, her limbs and torso undulating in ; fluid motion, obviously trained well in her art. From time to time she ; would lean forward, her firm full breasts swaying with hypnotic allure ; to barely brush Darcie's cheeks with her nipples. That close, Darcie ; inhaled the intoxicating bodyscent of the woman, and felt her own body ; responding to the dancer's lithe movements. Unbidden, Darcie's hands ; were slowly drawn to touch the girl's thighs, her fingertips exploring ; that satiny smooth skin. Once, when her touch trailed on the creamy ; inside of the dancer's thighs, Celeste closed her long-lashed eyes and ; emitted a tiny gasp and whispering sigh of pure sensual delight. She ; turned around, her well-toned back and asscheeks offered to Darcie's ; view, then with another movement in the music, she spun again, leaning ; forward so her warm breasts pillowed Darcie's face and her silky hair ; formed a canopy for the just the two of them. The dancer's lips ; brushed Darcie's, with the faintest and most tantalizing of kisses, ; soft and promising, as only a woman can kiss--and then the dance was ; over and Celeste drifted back to an open stage.
; ; Darcie sat back, blinking, her loins moist with desire, her heart ; hammering like engine. She shook her head to clear it, darting a quick ; glance at Max, to see if he was leering at her. But not at all. Max ; was studying the stage, his fingers steepled in that curious ; professorial manner.
; ; Darcie said shakily, "That was, uh, amazing. I'll give you this, ; Max--your girls know their business. How much should I tip her?"
; ; "Nothing."
; ; "What, no dollar bills tucked into the G-string?" But Darcie's survey ; of the club showed that no such customs were at work here. But by now, ; her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, and she could see dim forms ; in the shadows, slow movements, the occasional polished fingernails ; gripping the top of wing-backed chair. Darcie squinted, and across the ; room could suddenly make out a stunningly attractive blonde straddling ; a seated man, grinding her hips down on his pelvis in tempo to the ; music, while the man gripped her waist and began. . .fucking ; her. Darcie blinked to make sure she was seeing right. Yes, they were ; making love--openly copulating as if in the privacy of a secluded ; beach or hotel room. Nobody took notice. A waitress stopped only long ; enough to freshen their drinks. And by now the blonde's head was ; thrown back, while the man's mouth sought out the moist hollow of her ; throat, his thrusts becoming more savage, driving the woman into ; head-thrashing moans of pleasure. Then as she looked around the room ; even more, she could see that behavior was the rule, more than the ; exception. One man in a tuxedo leaned back in a chair while two ; kneeling sirens competed with their tongues to minister to his ; engorged cock. Another guest--a mature but still attractive ; matron--calmly undid her blouse and directed her entertainer's mouth ; between the matron's breasts. No wonder the club had such a sexual ; tension to it--half the patrons were ravishing some of the most ; beautiful women Darcie had ever seen!
; ; Darcie gathered her wits by taking a long drink from her glass. She ; cleared her throat and said to Max, "Well, it looks like our little ; club has a few extracurricular activities."
; ; Max shrugged. "Consenting adults, mon ami," he said. "When you are as ; rich and powerful as the people who are guests here, surely you do not ; feel confined by middle class conventions of morality."
; ; "Well, yes, but. . .where do you get these women, Max? Any one of them ; could be on the cover of a fashion magazine, or a swimsuit calendar." ; Instead of subjugating themselves to the lust of these degenerates, ; she wanted to add, but didn't. Something else was odd; the dancers did ; not seem to talk--they flowed through the room in a seamless circuit ; from the dance stages to the waiting laps of the customers. Then ; through the spirals of cigarette smoke and flashing lights, Darcie ; spied a familiar face from one of the photos in the investigation file ; on the abducted women. She couldn't remember the name, but she was ; certain the dancer on the far stage was a school teacher who had ; disappeared about six months ago. And here she was now, lasciviously ; sliding herself up and down a shiny stainless steel pole, her body, ; slick with sweat and clothed only in a tiny G-string, was far more ; voluptuous than Darcie remembered in the photo.
; ; Max said, "As you can see, this is an upscale establishment. The ; dancers are well taken care of. The club is fun, they get to laugh and ; make good money and meet rich, powerful people."
; ; But Darcie suspected something. This secret club, the incredibly ; attractive and docile dancers, an abducted schoolteacher now gyrating ; seductively on stage as if born to topless dancing--not to mention the ; unabashed open sex in half the couches and chairs in the room--this ; didn't add up. Darcie whirled on Max. "This club is just a front, ; Max. I know a scam when I see one. There's something wrong with these ; girls. They don't seem to even care that everybody can see them--doing ; what they're doing. So what's the deal? Are they drugged? Blackmailed? ; Beaten?"
; ; At the last, Max's eyebrows shot up in genuine shock. "Drugged? ; Really, Miss McVey, you do us an injustice!"
; ; "Cut the bull, you cultured creep!" retorted Darcie. "I'm marching out ; that door this minute, and straight to the police, and we can let the ; authorities get to the bottom of this. And don't forget, I have ; insurance--if something should happen to me, your story will hit the ; streets by the end of the day!" Once again Darcie congratulated ; herself on giving frumpy Louise precise instructions to carry out her ; threat of full disclosure of the file, if Darcie didn't return. Max ; could read the intent in her eyes. He sighed, a great Gallic release ; of breath accompanied by an elaborate shrug. "How do I know you will ; keep your word about giving us time to close up our little operation?" ; he asked.
; ; "Oh, I've given you no word to keep," said Darcie coolly, playing the ; upper hand. "I don't think you have much choice."
; ; "What drives you to do this, Miss McVey? You have an excellent media ; career already. Your talk show is famous, even in Europe. And here you ; are now, fishing in very deep waters."
; ; "I'll tell you what, Max. This story is going to make my career. For ; too long I've been treated like a potted plant by the network. A ; pretty face to dispense drivel to the young adult women's market. I ; need to show them I can handle a real story."
; ; Max gave a resigned shrug. "Well, you seem too motivated for me to ; stop you. Come with me." And he took her gently by the elbow past the ; dance stages toward another set of doors. Darcie tried not to look at ; the copulating couples along the way. The couples themselves paid not ; the slightest attention as they walked past. Darcie tried to hide the ; look of disgust on her face that women could allow themselves to be ; toyed with in public that way. These woman have no pride, she thought, ; as she felt the elation of forcing Max into giving in to her demands.
; ; Max talked as they walked down a corridor. "I'm going to give you the ; grand tour, Miss McVey. We're actually quite proud of what we've put ; together here."
; ; "I bet you are."
; ; "No, I'm quite serious. We deal in a very special commodity here."
; ; "Sex is not that special, Max. You can get it at any massage parlor."
; ; "Ah, but that's precisely the point, my dear. We do not sell sex. We ; sell sex slaves." He said it matter-of-factly.
; ; Darcie stopped in her tracks. "What?!"
; ; Max said, "We discovered quite a market exists for docile, ; well-trained women to serve the sexual needs of their masters. Once ; you get over the morality of it, the economics make perfect ; sense. Many wealthy men attempt to buy the affections of younger ; lovers; we just took it to the next logical step. More compliant that ; a wife, more loyal than a mistress--and far more versatile than a ; trophy girlfriend."
; ; Darcie said, "But how--I mean, don't they run away? How can you get ; away with a thing like this?"
; ; Max said, "You asked several questions, there, Miss McVey. Let me see ; if I can answer them. How? Neurological conditioning and physical ; development. The slaves--we call them LoveDolls, by they way--don't ; run away because by the time we finish with them, they are quite ; reprogrammed to their new life. The very thought of running away would ; never occur to them. And what was the last? Oh, yes, how do we get ; away with it? Well, we run a very discrete operation. New clients must ; be sponsored by an existing client. We take adequate safeguards."
; ; "I still don't see how you can turn a normal, intelligent person into ; some kind of robot slave," declared Darcie.
; ; "I"ll show you how," said Max. "Sometimes our clients like to come by ; and watch as their personal LoveDoll is prepared. This is the ; observation corridor that follows the various rooms in the ; process. Sometimes our clients like to visit and inspect what we're ; doing with their, ah, investment."
; ; Process? wondered Darcie, as Max led her to the first chamber.
; ; The observation deck was like an amphitheater over a surgical ; operations room. Darcie looked through the glass partition at the ; activity in the clinic below. Centered the room was a chair that ; looked like a dentist's chair, complete with head-rest, tilted far ; back. Behind the chair was a bank of computers and monitors.
; ; Being led to the chair was a young woman; Darcie would guess her to be ; about college-age. The girl was held securely by each arm as she was ; guided into the chair. She walked unsteadily, as if sedated, and it ; appeared to Darcie that she resisted as much as her weak condition ; allowed. But the clinicians settled her into the chair with little ; effort and snapped a metal band across her forehead. Straps secured ; her arms, legs and torso.
; ; "What's going on?" asked Darcie.
; ; Max said, "We call this the incubator'. The girl you see down there ; was acquired several days ago. Young, in good health, ; attractive. Yesterday she underwent a rather specialized cranial ; operation. Our team of neurosurgeons have identified the sensory ; perception zones of the brain, and have found a way to access them. A ; small neurotransmitter has been installed in the subject's cerebral ; cortex, connected to a jack at the base of the skull."
; ; "And what does all that mean?" asked Darcie, as she watched the team ; settle a kind of virtual-reality helmet over the girl's eyes.
; ; Max said, "It means we can make her see things, hear things, even feel ; things in her own mind. And reinforce those perceptions by intense ; pleasure--or by a sensation of unpleasantness applied directly to her ; mind." The girl was struggling weakly, but straps soon held her ; immobile in the chair. And as for the pleasure stimulus. . ."
; ; And Darcie saw how they undid a small velco seal between her legs, and ; gently but firmly inserted a large powered dildo deep into the girl's ; sex. Faint muffled protests could be heard through the helmet, but ; despite her attempts to fight the straps, the dildo slid home.
; ; "From this point forward, we let our doctors control the girl's ; thoughts. They flash images of submission and obedience into her ; brain, computer-generated virtual-reality displays of herself, ; actually, and then accompany those images with stimulated pleasure. We ; alternate that with contrasting images of resistance and defiance, and ; tickle her brain with some unpleasant sensations. After a while, a ; conditioned reflex is established in the brain that tells her that ; obedience brings pleasure, and defiance brings punishment. After, say, ; a hundred thousand repetitions of this same simple lesson, the ; subject's brain is effectively rewired into that of a docile ; slave. Independent thought is rendered impossible. The same technique ; can be used to train the subject in other behavior patterns, such as ; sexual technique and customized specialties requested by the client."
; ; Darcie watched as the girl began twisting and writhing as the mental ; images flashed through her brain. Methodically, relentlessly, the ; captive was being converted into mind-controlled slut, despite her ; futile, pathetic struggles. Darcie said, "All this sounds pretty ; sophisticated for a kidnaping ring, if you don't mind my saying ; so. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
; ; "Oh," said Max breezily, "We have some of the world's most respected ; neurologists on our staff. See that man down there, the bald fellow by ; the EEG monitor? That's Dr. Raymond Charlesworth, chairman of the ; Essex College of Psychology."
; ; Darcie stared at the figure below. "Wait, I know about him. He's ; written several books--as a matter of fact, we once had him on the ; show to talk about. . .I don't know, relationships or something." She ; shook her head. "How do you get a man like that to help you with a ; scheme like this? You couldn't pay him enough money!"
; ; "Ah, my dear, money is not the coin of the realm, around here. See his ; assistant?" Darcie looked where Max pointed, and saw a lovely brunette ; in a tight-fitting white medical gown that barely reached over her ; ass, cinched with a gleaming white patent-leather belt to show off her ; curves--and a white leather collar to match. As the assistant bent ; over to check one of the straps on the restraining chair, Darcie could ; see the swell of her breasts barely restrained by the medical ; gown. The girl said something to the doctor, then lowered her eyes ; demurely as if waiting for instructions.
; ; "What the good doctor gets for his contribution to our program ; is--her," said Max. "She's only nineteen, but her mind has been ; conditioned specifically to suit his particular, ah, tastes. As his ; personal sex slave, satiating those desires is her goal in life. She's ; also been trained as his assistant for our work here. I understand the ; girl's been performing well in both categories."
; ; Darcie shook her head in disapproval, then looked again at the ; imprisoned girl below. "So after frying that poor girl's brain, you ; then hustle her out on the marketplace to the highest bidder? Pretty ; slick, Max." And she shuddered.
; ; "Hardly not," Max replied. "We don't eliminate intelligence. We just ; disengage it except for the tasks the client wants her to perform. And ; once a subject's mind is controlled, the next step is to enhance their ; physical condition. We call it packaging'."
; ; "I'm sure you do," muttered Darcie.
; ; "This way," said Max, as he led her to the overview in the next ; station of the Observation Corridor.
; ; At first sight the room looked like a typical health club. Half a ; dozen girls were working out at various machines, each one with a ; trainer keeping careful watch. On closer inspection, however, Darcie ; could see the girls were clad in bodysuits so sheer and tight that ; they could have been sprayed on. One girl pumped hard on a stepping ; machine; a flick of the trainer's riding crop on her asscheeks made ; her pump harder. Darcie winced at the sight, imagining the sting on ; the rump underneath that skintight-stretched fabric.
; ; "What's with the suits?" asked Darcie. "They're so thin, they look ; positively sprayed on!"
; ; Max replied, "Oh, those are one of our most successful ; innovations. Each suit is actually custom-tailored to compress and ; shape the wearer's body into the optimum shape for that particular ; person. A strict diet and a program of vigorous exercise--supervised ; and motivated by our staff, you see--and you can get good results ; quite quickly. And the material is a special synthetic compound of ; organic polymers that over time actually bonds with the subject's ; skin. It recycles water and waste products and makes the Doll ; essentially self-sustaining, with the addition of nutritional ; supplements every week or so. And an owner can change the bodysuit's ; color from metallic, to shiny black, to natural skin tone. Quite ; aesthetic, wouldn't you say? They also let the sexual heat build up ; inside."
; ; Darcie had to admit to herself that the girls did look quite fetching ; in their gleaming, form-fitting outfits. Even the nipples could be ; discerned through the sheer fabric as the full breasts underneath ; bounced and bobbed with every exertion. She said, "Hmmm...either you ; got lucky in your kidnap victims, or I could swear some of those girls ; have had boob jobs."
; ; Max said, "Oh, we have our own staff of cosmetic surgeons. Most of the ; girls are touched up to conform with standard requests--36 D breasts ; are high on the list. We found most American men like well-endowed ; LoveDolls. And what are rather crudely referred to here as `bubble ; butts.' Europeans, on the other hand"--and he gestured with his hand ; as his palm were a weighing scale--"Europeans prefer more petite ; development.. We cater to all tastes. Oh, see how the girls walk with ; their heels in the air, on the balls of their feet? One thing we do on ; almost all the LoveDolls is apply a special salve to their Achilles ; tendons; it has the effect of gradually shrinking the tendon until ; only extremely high heels are comfortable to them. We break them in ; slowly, of course--four inch heels, then five, then six." Darcie could ; see how some of the girls had already been fitted with towering ; stiletto heels. They walked with the uncertain gait of new-born ; colts. Max seemed to read her thoughts. "They'll be prancing about ; like ballerinas in no time, the little darlings."
; ; They continued down the corridor, passing several beauticians' chairs ; behind the one-way glass. In the chairs, LoveDolls underwent various ; conventional beauty treatments--hair, facial wraps, skin lotions were ; all applied expertly to the unresisting bodies of the ; sex-slaves-to-be, making them as desirable as possible.
; ; The next room was far from conventional. This was also an exercise ; room, but Darcie soon realized the exercises were of a sexual rather ; than aerobic nature. In one zone, a LoveDoll was strapped to a ; stationary bicycle. She pedaled furiously. "Looks like she's really ; going at it," said Darcie.
; ; "Part of it is mental conditioning," said Max. "Each LoveDoll is ; programmed to be fanatical about maintaining a perfect physique to ; please her owner. In this case there's an added incentive. Look ; closely at the seat."
; ; Darcie squinted, and as the LoveDoll's rump would bob an inch or two ; off the seat with each cycle of the pedals, she caught a glimpse of a ; phallic cylinder protruding from the seat that rapidly pistoned up and ; down, penetrating deep in her pussy with each thrust. Darcie caught ; the musky scent of sweat and feminine sex.
; ; "It's geared to how fast she pedals," explained Max, following her ; gaze. "All the LoveDolls have been psychologically implanted with ; supercharged libidos. The sexual tension builds and builds, and can ; only be released by a trainer or owner. I like to think of the ; LoveDolls training on this bicycle as frantically racing for an orgasm ; that is perpetually just barely out of reach. You see, this is room is ; used exclusively for the development of sexual technique. It's ; surprising--I would even say shocking--how little American women know ; about the actual practice sex. After graduating from this room, a ; LoveDoll will never just lie there.'"
; ; Darcie spied another exercise routine in the far end of the room. She ; asked, "And what's that one doing?" She pointed to a LoveDoll ; straddling a kind of saddle on a stand. She was salaciously pumping ; herself over a large dildo impaled between her spread thighs that ; pistoned into her from the base of the saddle in a steady, deliberate ; rhythm. She gyrating her hips and flexed her abdomen muscles in ; response to each thrust.
; ; Max said, "This particular exercise strengthens the vagina muscles to ; the point where she will be able to massage her owner's cock most ; effectively, and with a variety of pre-programmed ; techniques. Squeezing, stroking, corkscrewing--they have to learn them ; all."
; ; "She's going at it pretty hard too," said Darcie, as the LoveDoll's ; redheaded mane whirled and thrashed back and forth with each toss of ; her head. "Is that the mental conditioning again?"
; ; "Correct, Ms. McVey. Right now there's nothing more important to her ; than giving her imaginary lover the utmost pleasure she's capable ; of. The fact is, she's replaying a scene she's already experienced ; countless times under her psychological conditioning back at the ; Incubator.' This training is naturally duplicated for all love-making ; techniques--oral, anal, even such simple pleasures as backrubs and ; shower sudsing."
; ; "And the trainer?" asked Darcie, pointing to one of the leather-clad ; supervisors who kept an eye on a control panel dial and a finger ; poised over a switch.
; ; "Ah, there comes time when a little more motivation is needed, if the ; LoveDoll is performing one whit below her capacity, naturally." As he ; spoke, the trainer frowned and flipped the switch. The LoveDoll rose ; from the saddle with an electric shock, her eyes snapped wide. Then ; the LoveDoll redoubled her efforts at the dildo. The trainer gave an ; approving nod.
; ; "Naturally," muttered Darcie. She had noticed the look of rapture on ; the girl's face, and wondered how many times she had orgasmed that ; evening.
; ; "Would you like to see the finished product?" asked Max. "I believe we ; have one waiting for pickup by the client in the holding room." Darcie ; nodded mutely.
; ; The holding room turned out to be one of the most lavish rooms in the ; club. Dark mahogany paneling, thick carpet, plush chairs--and in one ; corner, full length ornate mirrors--a perfect forum for inspecting ; one's newly purchased plaything, Darcie thought. Max quietly murmured ; something into the intercom speaker on the wall, and soon a shapely ; trainer escorted the purchased LoveDoll into the room.
; ; Darcie took in a short breath as she caught her first look at the ; finished LoveDoll. Blond hair, shimmering in highlights, tumbled down ; to the doll's shoulders. Her eyes were large and green, flecked with ; gold, her face oval with a model's high cheekbones. A collar with a ; stainless steel ring graced her slender neck--and that was the only ; apparel she was wearing.
; ; As for her body, Darcie had to secretly concede to herself that Max's ; technicians knew what they were doing. The breasts were full and ; perfectly proportioned; the waist slender, the hips showed as graceful ; curves. As Darcie walked around her, she saw the tight asscheeks and ; long, sculpted legs that stood on towering high heels that made her ; walk mincing and sensual. Darcie could see how the girl's entire body ; was encased in that incredibly thin transparent bodysuit that gave her ; a satiny sheen, totally unblemished, velvety smooth to the touch.
; ; It was more than the girl's physique that created the sexual energy ; that crackled around her. The way she thrust her chest outward, as if ; begging for somebody to cup and massage her breasts, and the way she ; arched her back slightly to accentuate the curve of her ass, and ; mostly the way her eyes seem to glow with an spoken hunger to be taken ; and ravished--all these combined to make the LoveDoll infinitely ; desirable as she stood before them in brazen display.
; ; Darcie said in a kind of awe, "You mean this was once. . . a person?"
; ; Max said, "Yes, an au pair exchange student from Denmark, I ; believe. She's been transformed into what we call our standard ; model. Fully functional, well-trained in all sexual techniques, utter ; compliant to her owner's wishes. This one has been voice-disabled by ; conditioning, except for love-making sounds. That way we could install ; silicone pads in her mouth and throat to create a small, tight ; channel--effectively converting her mouth into a second vagina."
; ; Darcie studied the girl's face in fascination. "This make-up," she ; began--
; ; "Imbedded permanently into the skin," answered Max. "Eye shadow, ; blush, lipstick, the works. She always looks her best and you never ; have to worry about getting lipstick on your collar. Or elsewhere."
; ; Darcie noticed how the LoveDoll's lips had been pumped with collagen ; to the point where she could even open her mouth on her own. Darcie ; could only imagine the pleasure an owner would experience has he ; forced his manhood through those twin cushions of plump, moistened ; lips.
; ; Max addressed the LoveDoll. "Turn around," he said crisply, and the ; LoveDoll instantly and gracefully complied. She spread her legs and ; bent over slightly to show off her sex, totally uninhibited. Max was ; saying, "The standard model can be commanded either by voice, as I did ; just then, or by this remote control." He hefted a remote control ; console in the palm of his hand and pressed a button. The LoveDoll ; turned again to face him. "Exquisite, don't you think?" he asked ; pleasantly to Darcie. "Each command has a unique electromagnetic ; signal implanted through conditioning in her mind. After so many ; repetitions, her conscious mind is bypassed altogether, and her body ; just responds automatically to the signals. Efficient, wouldn't you ; say?"
; ; Darcie could only stare in amazement at this apparition of this sex ; goddess, programmed into obedience. "And all this conditioning," she ; asked, "it really works? Does she know what we're saying right now?"
; ; "Not really, no. She's aware we're here, of course, but her cognitive ; ability has been disengaged except to respond to commands. We can ; restore it of course. But we uncovered an interesting side effect that ; prompted us to keep the LoveDolls under full mental control."
; ; "Side effect?" asked Darcie. "What side effect?"
; ; "They don't seem to age at all," said Max, and for the first time ; Darcie heard a note of wonder in his voice. "Something about the aging ; genes becoming disengaged with the rest. . .Forever young, forever ; beautiful. . ." His voice trailed off. Then he shrugged apologetically ; to Darcie. "Forgive me, it's the romantic in me. You can't help but ; admire them, can you? And she's fully functional, her vagina ; reconfigured for the maximum sexual pleasure to her user. But that is ; just one of the many options we offer. Here, I'll show you." He ; pressed another button on the control. The beautiful Doll gracefully ; sank down on her knees. Max was already pulling out his cock, with no ; sign of inhibitions himself.
; ; Must be the romantic in him, thought Darcie.
; ; The LoveDoll tilted her head back slightly, her tongue snaked over her ; lips to render them moist for easy entry. The tip of her pink tongue ; darted out to caress the underside of Max's manhood.
; ; Darcie was no prude, and no stranger to oral sex. In fact, during her ; climb up the network ladder, a corporate V.P. who guarded the gate to ; her promotion made it clear he liked her on screen performances so ; much, he wanted to see what she could do behind closed doors. So ; Darcie always associated fellatio with those demeaning experiences, ; one offered reluctantly and only with the understanding that she was ; entitled to reciprocal service from her lover, or something of equal ; value.
; ; The LoveDoll considered it anything but demeaning, apparently. Or ; didn't care. Or maybe Max was right, and her thoughts were completely ; replaced by her programming. For Darcie never saw a cock sucked with ; such adoring adroitness. The LoveDoll spent several minutes just ; running her lips and tongue along the shaft, occasionally swirling her ; tongue around the head of Max's throbbing cock. Her half-closed eyes ; followed Max's s every movement, and Darcie could almost feel her warm ; breath as he kissed and licked his balls with loving attention. Max ; entangled his hands into the beautiful Doll's glossy hair, and she ; allowed him to direct her mouth wherever his pleasure dictated, her ; full lips sliding all the way over his cock. Finally, when his cock ; was pulsing with a heat all its own, Max gripped her head hard and ; thrust himself deep inside her, fully sheathing himself down her eager ; throat. His gasp of pleasure reminded Darcie what he said earlier of ; converting the LoveDoll's mouth into a second vagina--in fact, as he ; penetrated in and out between the Doll's lips, Darcie could hear the ; suctioned slurping as her narrow-channeled mouth provided a perfect ; fit for his engorged manhood. The cheeks of the mind-controlled slut ; betrayed how her tongue working was furiously along her master's ; shaft. As the Doll's bouncing breasts brushing teasingly against Max's ; thigh's with every thrust, Darcie realized the Doll's entire mind and ; body were totally focused on bringing the ultimate pleasure to her ; owner. Max tightened his hold on her head and picked up the tempo of ; his thrusts, literally fucking her mouth, sheathing his cock to its ; base past those soft, yielding lips.
; ; Max finally tensed and came hard. She gulped his seed down greedily, ; then swathed his withdrawn manhood with her tongue to clean him ; up. Max restored himself, and pressed the control device. The LoveDoll ; sank back on her heels, head lowered, her hands resting on her thighs, ; palm up, in the classic position of submission.
; ; Darcie felt faint. She slowly sat down in one of the plush ; chairs. What had seemed to her to be a good story for her career had ; become a nightmare. To see a free woman methodically transformed into ; a sextoy was a notion so diabolical, so monstrous that it was beyond ; belief. But what really shook her was her own reaction to it--for one ; split second, she wanted to ask Max for the remote, and see what it ; was like to have the LoveDoll pleasure her. Darcie could swear when ; she looked into those large green eyes, she could see an unquenchable ; desire still burning like embers. She shook off the temptation.
; ; "Well, Max, that was quite a show," she said huskily.
; ; Max said, "That's just an all-purpose LoveDoll. Some of our more ; discerning clients have particular tastes and preferences that we try ; to fulfill. Come this way."
; ; The next room featured one subject: a naked girl was strapped in one ; of the incubator-style chairs, this time with her crossed wrists ; manacled above her head. Darcie knew enough now about the clinic's ; mind control techniques to note the headphones securely attached to ; her ears, while a nearby computer flooded her brain with ; God-knows-what neurological imprints. The usual vaginal stimulator was ; in place, rhythmically pumping in and out and reinforcing those mental ; commands with cycles of sensual stimulation. But what caught Darcie's ; eyes immediately was the size of the girl's breasts. They were ; enormous--like twin volleyballs.
; ; "Ah," said Max, "I see you've noticed our subject's prime feature. The ; buyer has a particular interest in, shall we say, busty girls. He's ; asked us if we can provide a LoveDoll for the a true connoisseur of ; large breasts. The subject --Brittany, her name was--was already ; blessed with good development when we acquired her. But our client ; wanted more. So our clinical staff developed a technique that is ; having marvelous results.. Since breasts this large would not be ; feasible with a single implant, the doctors have devised a procedure ; in which expandable pockets of saline solution are inserted in each ; breast, then pumped with more and more solution over time through ; those tubes to let the skin stretch."
; ; Darcie followed with her eyes the clear bag of solution hanging from a ; stand over the strapped-down girl, with the steady drip of the liquid ; pressed by gravity through two plastic tubes that fed through tiny ; incisions at the base of her breasts. The breasts themselves were ; covered by transparent suction cups that repeatedly sucked the ripe ; breast flesh into the shaped domes with a steady massaging effect..
; ; "Those are to shape and form the breasts as they get augmented," ; explained Max without being asked. "The client does not just want ; gigantic breasts. He wants gigantic perfect breasts. Oh, and notice ; that ointment spread over the breasts? That keeps the skin moist and ; stretchable, and also stimulates nerve growth. The slightest touch ; will cause spasms of pleasurable sensation." Max gave a little ; laugh. "Each time the client comes to inspect the progress, he says, a ; little larger, please.' It will take about a week more to get them to ; the desired dimensions."
; ; "But to saddle a girl with those gargantuan mammaries," protested ; Darcie. "A week more of this, at the rate she's growing, she'll topple ; over if she tries to walk!"
; ; "Oh, our training staff will instruct her how to walk, never fear. And ; walk in such a way as to make her breasts sway oh-so-invitingly. And ; of course we pay equal attention to the LoveDoll's mental ; conditioning. Here, listen to this," and he flipped a switch on the ; computer and handed Darcie a set of headphones. Darcie with a little ; frown reluctantly listened in to what was being piped into Britainy's ; brain that very instant:
; ; "--love my big breasts... I love my big breasts....They make me look ; so pretty... I love the feel of Master's cock between my breasts...It ; makes me feel so sexy to have Master's cock between my breasts... I ; love my breasts--the bigger the better...I love to see my breasts in ; the mirror....My breasts are just for Master to play with...It makes ; me wet to have Master kiss my breasts...I don't ever want to cover my ; breasts, I want Master to see them all the time, to see how full and ; big they are...I love my big breasts..." Darcie could see how each ; lesson was reinforced by a surge of the vaginal stimulator. The girl's ; eyelids fluttered as her body writhed in an extended wave of sexual ; pleasure, the rounded globes jiggling in a most sensuous way. Even so, ; she shook her head weakly from side to side, as if still fighting the ; inexorable mind control training that was penetrating the deepest ; recesses of her mind.
; ; "That's Brittany's actual voice, synthesized," said Max, replacing the ; headphones on the rack. We find it makes a deeper impression, almost ; like the subject talking to herself."
; ; "And it works?" said Darcie, fascinated by image of the LoveDoll being ; molded physically and mentally into a programmed slut with giant tits.
; ; "Most definitely. By the time we're finished with her conditioning, ; she won't be able to look at her breasts in the mirror without ; slipping into orgasm right then and there. And we've also been able to ; design some garments for her to wear that display her new form to the ; best advantage. A custom-designed LoveDoll--that's the direction our ; program is going."
; ; As they watched, the overhanging bag of solution ran dry. Brittany--or ; the evolving LoveDoll that used to be Brittany--glanced up with ; shrouded eyes with what Darcie thought was a look of relief. But just ; then a clinician walked in, looking sassy in her high-hem skirt and ; lab coat, and efficiently swapped the empty solution bag for a full ; one. Brittany tilted her head up as high as it could go, and watched ; the suction cups draw the new flow of solution into another millimeter ; of size on her pink swollen breasts, glistening with the lubricating ; ointment. Brittany's head dropped back on the table, and she seemed to ; sigh in helpless resignation to the fact that her mind and body were ; was being gradually molded into a huge-breasted fucktoy. The ; relentless mental indoctrination coming through the headphones was ; obviously melting her will to resist.
; ; Max pulled Darcie away by gently gripping her upper arm. "Come along," ; he said. "Our final room has what I consider our finest effort so ; far. In fact, we're in luck--the buyer stopped by today to test the ; state of our training."
; ; Darcie left, but not without a backward glance at the strapped-in ; Brittainy, the clear plastic tubes pumping another surge of liquid ; into her swollen breasts.
; ; As they returned back down the corridor, Darcie saw the strangest ; apparition coming the other way. Two women--one wore the traditional ; leather corset and high-heeled boots of the trainers that Darcie had ; seen in the work-out rooms. She was leading another girl who bore the ; unmistakable signs of being transformed into a LoveDoll--the full ; lips, shimmering bodysuit (obsidian black, on this one), and sculpted ; body/facial beauty. Her hair had been allowed to grow long, almost ; down to the small of her back, and brushed to a glossy sheen.
; ; But this Doll was apparently undergoing specialized training. A ; pony-bit was clenched in her mouth. Her arms were pulled back behind ; her, elbows touching, and encased in a single glove that knitted ; seamlessly into her form-fitting corset. So her arms and hands were ; immobilized, shoulders pulled back, making her breasts--large and ; sumptuous even by the standards of the clinic--thrust proudly ; forward. Darcie could only marvel at the muscular thighs and calves ; that flexed every time the Doll took another exaggerated high ; step. The trainer behind her guided the Doll with a firm grip on reins ; that pulled on the bit, while her other hand carried a crop.
; ; As they passed this strange pair, Darcie stopped. "Max, what is this ; all about?" she asked, her eyes wide with wonder. Max held up us hand.
; ; "Whoa," the trainer said, pulling back on the reins. The LoveDoll ; stopped, panting through the bit, but staring blankly ahead.
; ; "This is one of our earlier LoveDolls," said Max. "Her name is ; Christina. Her owner has developed an interest in erotic equestrian ; play, so we reprogrammed her LoveDoll's mind into that of a ponygirl."
; ; Darcie studied the LoveDoll ponygirl. Up close she could see the ; elaborate system of straps and buckles that could be used for ; different restraints. The bit itself was a leather bar clenched ; between her teeth, with two shiny metal rings pressed back on her ; cheeks that served as the connection to the reins. The ponygirl's back ; was arched as she stood at attention on her high-heeled pony ; shoes. And either as a touch of whimsy or realism, a crested tail had ; been plugged between her firm asscheeks. Darcie tried to see some sign ; of humiliation or desperation in the LoveDoll's eyes, but all she ; could see was the familiar opaque doll-eyes, looking straight ; ahead. The girl's breasts rose and fell with the breath of her prior ; exertions.
; ; Max regarded this amazing creature with a pleased look on his face. "I ; trust her conditioning is going well?" he asked the trainer.
; ; "Yes, sir," answered the trainer. "Today we're learning how to ; canter. Aren't we, dear?" the trainer added to the ponygirl, stroking ; the Doll's thigh with her crop. "Miss Dunn still wants to use her for ; sex play, of course, so we're working out hand commands and other ; dressage techniques."
; ; Max turned to Darcie. "This illustrates a point I mentioned ; earlier--the direction our operation is going. Once a LoveDoll has ; been commissioned, we can re-program them in the Incubator' into ; anything the owner wants. You can upgrade your standard LoveDoll to ; be--oh, a French Maid, complete with accent...a raunchy courtesan from ; the streets of New Orleans.. the high school cheerleader of your ; youthful fantasies. . ..or even this charming ponygirl. One of our ; clients even married his LoveDoll, God knows why. But it's what he ; wanted. It's just a question of jacking in a new program--and we have ; hundreds to choose from, with new ones being developed all the ; time. He turned back to the trainer. "Very well, proceed. I'll expect ; a report on her progress by the end of the week. The owner said to ; spare no discipline. It's my understanding she wants to enter her ; little filly in some races."
; ; "Yes, sir," said the trainer. She snapped the reins. The ponygirl ; LoveDoll resumed her parade-ground prancing. "Knees high!" admonished ; the trainer, with a reminding smack of her riding crop on the ; ponygirl's asscheeks. The pair moved off down the corridor to the ; metronome click of the ponygirl's steel-shoed heels.
; ; Something buzzed around in Darcie's mind. Dunn. . . Dunn. . . Then it ; clicked. "That owner--Miss Dunn, did you say? That wouldn't be Lydia ; Dunn, chief of the Sex Crimes Commission?"
; ; "The very one," said Max cheerfully. "For a fee, Miss Dunn gave us ; protection from government interference while we built up our ; organization. "Christina was her rival at the Commission for several ; years, and actually assigned to infiltrate our ; organization. Naturally, Lydia worked with us to neutralize her. As an ; agent, Christina was smart and tough and posed a serious threat to ; us. Her conditioning as a LoveDoll was a most satisfying process. Miss ; Dunn acquired her as her personal sex-toy. Now Christina's only ; function is to please her Mistress--in any way her Mistress desires. A ; happy resolution to both of our problems, wouldn't you say?"
; ; Darcie took one last backward look over her shoulder at the ; high-stepping ponygirl, her tail flicking back and forth. To be ; captured by these people, and changed forever into someone else's ; property! The thought made her shudder. And she again congratulated ; her own foresight in giving her assistant Louise the file on this ; demonic club as insurance against Darcie's own kidnaping. You have to ; take risks to get ahead, Darcie reminded herself. But as long as Max ; knew an outsider could still blow the whistle, Darcie figured she was ; safe enough. After all, Max was obviously an intelligent man who ; understood how he had been checkmated by Darcie's advanced ; planning. Otherwise, he would never be giving her this tour, would he? ; She thought.
; ; But if Max was concerned by the trap he was in, he gave no sign of it ; as he pushed open some swinging doors to the strangest room yet.
; ; Darcie stared at the large cage that dominated the room. The floor of ; the cage was matted straw. The bars gleamed chromium silver. A bowl of ; water was inside, as well as a large bin of some kind of dried ; food. Inside the cage was--a woman? A LoveDoll? A tigress?
; ; Max was already talking. "This one was called Samantha, I ; believe. Very defiant, at first. But you see how we turned that ; feistiness to our advantage."
; ; Samantha prowled on all fours inside the cage. Her hair was untamed, ; but gorgeous--a light brown, with streaks of blonde, thick locks ; tumbling untamed around her shoulders. Her body had been buffed and ; physically conditioned to steel-like muscular definition, like a ; professional body-worker. But that toughness was somehow highlighted ; by the feminine curves of her breasts and ass, and by the savage ; beauty of her face. Green eyes that smoldered at the two visitors with ; either lust or hostility or maybe both. Her only garment was a thick ; leather collar, its dark brown color a matching the copper tone of her ; tanned naked skin. A powerful scent of the woman's sex permeated the ; room. She resumed her pacing on hands and knees, back and forth, her ; muscles flowing like a panther.
; ; A man entered the room. Khaki shorts and shirt, with brawny arms and a ; thick mustache. He wore thick leather handling gloves and carried a ; braided whip in one hand.
; ; "This is the owner," whispered Max. "He's a great white hunter type, ; goes into the wilds every season. All this was his idea, the minute we ; showed him Samantha's marketing video."
; ; "All of what?" asked Darcie.
; ; "Just watch. We've kept Samantha on a diet rich with hormones--she's ; been in heat for the past three days. Frantic to mate."
; ; Darcie watched as the owner unlocked the cage. Samantha backed into a ; corner with a threatening growl. The owner advanced, his boots ; crunching over the straw. Samantha's clawed hand lashed out. The man ; warily circled around her. Samantha's nostrils flared as she caught ; the man's scent, and the promise of long-deferred mating. Still she ; prowled along the edge of the cage, never taking her eyes off the ; intruder. Once, when she lashed out at him with her long fingernails, ; he cracked the whip without the leather tip touching her--more to ; control her than to hurt her, Darcie noticed.
; ; The owner sprang forward with agility. His gauntletted hand grasped ; the steel ring on the woman's collar and he maneuvered himself behind ; her. Samantha fought back hard, teeth bared, hissing and clawing. But ; Darcie could see how Samantha was also being aroused in spite of ; herself. The man's whip cracked close to her ears and she cringed and ; froze at the unexpected sound. The owner seized the opportunity to ; press her shoulders down into the straw, leaving her ass high and ; vulnerable. He reached in and directed his already erect cock to ; thrust into the captured LoveDoll from behind. One thrust--and he was ; deep inside. Samantha's fighting died down, and her hisses of ; resistance became growls of pleasure as she allowed herself to be ; taken, to have that animal heat finally quenched. Cautiously, the ; owner released his hold on her collar, and slide his hands down over ; her back and flanks, finally gripping her hips with his leather ; gloves. Samantha began meeting his thrusts with her own, as she tossed ; her hair and panted in building passion.
; ; Darcie stared in disbelief. They've turned this girl into a sex ; animal, she realized, and continued to watch with a horrified ; fascination. As he reached climax, the man's hand shot forward and ; grasped the mane of her hair, pulling the girl's head back as his cock ; rammed back and forth, taking her hard from behind. Samantha's emitted ; a kind of a low-throated mewing. Her back arched and her muscular body ; tensed, and they both came in shared spasm of sexual fulfillment.
; ; Both man and tigress/LoveDoll shuddered, then slowly collapsed ; together in the straw. Samantha, look of glazed satisfaction in her ; half-lidded eyes, nuzzled close to the man. Her pink tongue came out, ; and she submissively licked the man's chest and shoulders and neck, ; still turned on by his salty taste. The owner, his chest still heaving ; with exertion, scratched the thick hair behind her ears, Max motioned ; to Darcie it was time to go, and they left the two in the cage.
; ; "She's come along nicely, don't you think? She's been programmed to ; think she's his big cat. I understand he's built an entire walled ; landscape for her in his Kenya estates. Don't let that whip scare ; you. Deep down, he really loves his pets."
; ; "His. . . pets, you say," muttered Darcie. She was too stunned to say ; anything else. The sights and sounds and revelations of this bizarre ; tour finally caught up to her, and she felt faint. The thought of ; turning women into custom-designed sex slaves was too diabolical to ; believe--yet here it was. She had to get out. . . she had ; to. . . Darcie found her eyelids growing heavy. The room seemed to ; spin around, and suddenly everything became misty and black.
; ;
; ; She awoke with a start. Max was leaning over her, a concerned look on ; his face.
; ; "Miss McVey, are you all right?" He had loosed her trenchcoat and was ; in the process of helping her sit up. Darcie tried to struggle to her ; feet. Max's hand, surprisingly strong, pulled her to standing. She ; smiled at him gratefully, then as her head cleared, she wiped the ; smile from her face and looked around, blinking. She said, "I guess I ; just. . . blacked out for a minute there."
; ; "I can get a physician for you," offered Max.
; ; "One of your merry medical staff? No thanks--I'm happy with my body ; the way it is, thank you. I don't want to find myself walking out of ; here with watermelon-size buttocks, or something exotic like ; that. Nice try, though."
; ; Max laughed, genuinely amused. "The idea never crossed my mind, I ; assure you, Miss McVey. Perhaps we could return to the club and you ; rest a bit, and I can try to persuade you not to reveal our little ; operation here."
; ; "Fat chance of that, Max. But I wouldn't mind sitting down. Did I hit ; my head on something? I got one helluva headache."
; ; They made their way back to the club. The place rocked and pulsed with ; even more crackling energy than before. The hard-beat music throbbed ; with a hard hypnotic beat; the dancers on stage gyrated their sinuous ; bodies as if enslaved to the rhythm, the laughter and talk was louder, ; the colored stage lights flashed and dazzled--and almost every couch ; and chair was the scene of unabashed sex. Once again, Darcie was ; struck by the beauty of the women: not just pretty, but fashion-model ; gorgeous, but more curvaceous and full-bodied than any model. As she ; and Max were seated by the hostess at the foot of the dance stage, ; Darcie could not help but cast a sidelong glance at the couch next to ; them. There a striking brunette lay sideways, her head leaning on the ; armrest with a dreamy expression on her face, letting the club patron ; fuck her with steady thrusts of his cock deep between her ; thighs. Darcie quickly looked away, and her eyes lit on another table, ; where a guest admired the undulating dancer on the stage. His pleasure ; at the sight was obviously amplified by the redheaded vixen sitting ; next to him who expertly stroked his exposed cock with her tapering ; fingers in time to the music. From time to time she would lean forward ; and kiss the head of his cock lightly, then return to her massaging ; his lust-filled shaft. The girl glanced up, and Darcie happened to ; look straight into her eyes, the same opaque doll-eyes that she had ; seen in the LoveDolls in the clinic.
; ; Suddenly it all became clear. No wonder all these girls in the club ; were so shamelessly subjugating themselves to the patrons' pleasure! ; They were all LoveDolls! Then another realization struck her.
; ; "Max," she said suddenly, "This club--it's a showcase for your damn ; LoveDolls, isn't it? And the guests here--they're not just partying, ; having fun. They're. . . buyers."
; ; Max bestowed a nod in her direction. "Very good, Ms. McVey. Yes, you ; are almost right.
; ; Potential buyers, let us say. Some are just browsing. This lets them ; inspect the LoveDolls who have completed their basic conditioning. If ; they like what they see--and many of them do--then we can make the ; arrangements on the spot to fine-tune their acquisition to their ; tastes."
; ; Darcie shook her head with a sort of disgusted wonder. The effort made ; her head ache even more. "You know, it's going to be a real service to ; my gender to shut this place down. You're just lucky I'm going to give ; you a head start before I air the show."
; ; Max leaned forward and spoke deliberately to be heard over the beat of ; the music. "I thought we might have a chat about that, Ms. McVey."
; ; "Oh?"
; ; "Yes. I have a proposition for you. The fact is, we've had our eye on ; you a long time, Ms. McVey. You have a great ; audience. People--especially young women--hang on your every ; word. Fashion, books, what's in, what's out--your opinion counts for a ; lot."
; ; Darcie tilted her head sideways to look at Max. "Yeah, but what is all ; this leading up to?"
; ; "Just this: We would like to offer you a job, Ms. McVey." She looked ; at him incredulously. "Now, just hear me out. We have great plans for ; our operation. Our biggest challenge has always been finding suitable ; recruits to reconfigure into LoveDolls. We always have far more orders ; to fill than LoveDolls to fill them with. So we have built a spa on a ; Caribbean island, totally owned by an offshore corporation." Max's ; eyes glowed with excitement. "We plan to make this spa a Mecca for ; young women only--at discount prices, and with a cruise to the island ; thrown in. Once we have the girls there, we can pick and choose which ; ones--the most beautiful, the cream of the crop, and the ones with the ; fewest bonds back home--to keep and reconfigure into LoveDolls. The ; rest will go home with glowing reports on what a lovely time they had ; on the beach and in the spa."
; ; Darcie stared at the man. A kidnapping ring on a grand scale--with an ; endless source of young women to transform into sex slaves for sale to ; the highest bidder. What a scheme! It was monstrous--it was ; brilliant--
; ; "That's where you come in, Ms. McVey," Max was saying in his ; terrifyingly reasonable manner. "We need a spokesperson to persuade ; these women to try out the spa. Somebody who has star quality, who ; they trust and want to emulate. Somebody like you, Ms. McVey."
; ; Darcie could not believe what she was hearing. "Wait, let me get this ; straight," she spluttered. "I'm getting ready to expose you and your ; friends on national television. And you want me to--do commercials for ; you? Are you crazy? Is this some kind of a joke?"
; ; "No joke, Ms. McVey. We think your talents would make all the ; difference."
; ; "Well, I got news for you, Max. The only difference I intend to make ; is to shut down this whole weird operation!" And with that, she flung ; her arm out in a dramatic gesture to encompass the whole room of ; dancing, posturing and cavorting LoveDolls. But while making the ; gesture, her eye caught something and she did a double take.
; ; A woman was being escorted between the tables by a trainer. The woman ; was a LoveDoll, no question of that, with her pouty lips and ; soul-empty look and shiny silver skintight bodysuit. But her breasts ; exceeded the bustlines of any of the other LoveDolls in the room. They ; ballooned our from her chest like twin basketballs, perfectly formed, ; jiggling like firm jello. She walked sensually with her back arched ; and her shoulders thrown back, as if proud to display those ; magnificent orbs.
; ; Daphne's eyes narrowed in disbelieving recognition. That was the girl ; who was strapped into the breast-augmentation chair not fifteen ; minutes ago, before Darcie lost consciousness, she was sure of ; it. Yet, from across the room, while naked women sauntered past her ; line of sight and cigarette smoke curled upward to the stage lights, ; it was hard to say. . . As she watched, the LoveDoll was brought ; before a patron sprawling in a wingbacked chair. He obviously expected ; her, from the few brief words with the trainer. The huge-breasted ; leaned forward and let him fondle and stroke her smooth breasts. Even ; from that distance, Darcie could see the LoveDoll's eyes flutter in ; pleasure as his fingers kneaded the soft, yielding globes. Then the ; doll knelt gracefully between the man's legs, unzipped his suit ; trousers as if that was the most natural thing in the world, and ; expertly massaged his cock to a hard, throbbing erection. Then she ; cupped her breasts in her hands and pressed them against the patron's ; manhood. She played with her nipples while stroking his cock up and ; down between the warm soft pillows of those ripe, bouncing ; melons. Every now and then as his cock penetrated up through the ; enfolding channel of her breast-flesh, she would bend over and let her ; tongue swirl over the head of his cock, adding that moisture to the ; lubrication of her breasts. The kneeling LoveDoll threw her head back ; in abandon and Darcie caught a good look at her face. There was no ; question any more. Something was wrong here.
; ; "Max," she said, her voice shaking, "that girl over that, with those ; incredible breasts--that's the same one we saw getting that boob job, ; isn't it?"
; ; Max glanced over to where Darcie was looking. "Yes, I believe it is," ; he said calmly. He took off his rimless glasses and polished them ; thoughtfully with a handkerchief plucked from his top coat pocket.
; ; Darcie continued, "But look at her breasts. They were ridiculously big ; to begin with. Now they're twice that size. You said she wouldn't be ; ready for a week."
; ; Max put his glasses back on, and Darcie noticed how his eyes glinted ; with a kind of amused superiority. A tremor of uneasiness passed ; through her. "Yes, that's correct, Ms. McVey."
; ; Darcie spoke very slowly. "Then what is she doing here now?"
; ; Max said, "You said it yourself. It took a week."
; ; "But. . .but a week hasn't gone by. That was just a few minutes ago."
; ; "Actually, it has. A week and two days, to be precise. We needed that ; time for your own conditioning."
; ; "What?!"
; ; "Yes. Do you remember when you felt faint, at the last stage of our ; tour? And that drink you had earlier here, in the club? We included a ; powerful sedative in your drink."
; ; "But I switched drinks with you!" Darcie protested, her voice sounding ; shrill and far away.
; ; "So you did. But you see, my dear, both drinks had the sedative, and ; only one of us took the antidote beforehand." Again, that small, ; confident smile. Darcie wanted to smash his face in. Could it possibly ; be true? Unbidden, she raised her hand to the back of her head, ; underneath her hair, and touched lightly with her fingertips. Her ; heart seemed to stop--yes, there it was. A small metallic insert, ; exactly like the those implanted in the other LoveDolls, for "jacking ; in" the virtual-reality programs of the conditioning process. My God, ; she thought. I've been programmed.
; ; "Why, Max? Why the charade? If you wanted to kidnap me, you could just ; do it? Why string me along like this?"
; ; Max steepled his fingers. "Ah, now we have come to the heart of it. We ; needed to find out something, Ms. McVey. You see how we can condition ; the LoveDolls to be anything an owner might want, any fantasy at ; all. In your case, we had to know if you could be conditioned to ; be. . . yourself."
; ; "Myself? What do you mean?"
; ; "Before we used your talents to promote the spa, we had to make sure ; you could perform just like you did before. If you became a mannequin, ; like the rest of our LoveDolls, then the whole plan would have to ; dropped." Max leaned back in his chair. "But I am glad to say, ; Ms. McVey, they you have laid our fears to rest. It looks that star ; quality came through your programming unblemished.
; ; Darcie stared at him, her mind churning. She had one hope left. . .
; ; "You forgot one thing, Mister," she spat out with all the venom she ; could muster. "If I've been gone for a week, you can bet your scheming ; ass that the police are out hunting for me right now. You seem to ; forget I told someone who I was meeting." And Darcie fervently prayed ; that little airhead Louise had done exactly what she was told.
; ; Max furrowed his brow for a minute and then looked up, his face ; brightening. "Oh, yes... your insurance', as you called it. A ; confidant. Someone you could trust. Someone, for instance, like your ; assistant back at the studio."
; ; Darcie felt as if an ice shaft had thrust into her heart. "Did you do ; anything to her?" she asked hoarsely.
; ; Max shrugged and said, "Let's ask her ourselves, shall we? Louise, did ; we do anything to you?"
; ; Darcie whirled in her chair. Standing behind her was Louise. But not ; the old, frumpy Louise with her too-big glasses and her god-awful ; hair. This Louise carried herself with assurance, her make-up was ; perfect, her hair swept back to look both athletic and alluring. Her ; figure was flawless--so that what was under those baggy sweatshirts ; all these months!
; ; And she was dressed in the leather outfit of a trainer.
; ; "No, sir," Louise answered. "I'm feeling quite fine. Her eyes slid ; over to Darcie. "Good evening, Ms. McVey. Nice to see you among us." ; And Darcie noticed with a chill that Louise's eyes had the same ; emotionless serenity as the LoveDolls.
; ; "Louise!" cried Darcie. "They got you too!"
; ; Louise said, "They got me a long time ago, Ms. McVey."
; ; Max broke in. "Louise is too modest. She is actually a special ; case. Right from the start we knew she would make an excellent ; trainer. And she made an even better infiltrator into your television ; network. It was not hard to slip her into the role of your assistant; ; the turnover in that position was notorious and common knowledge. I'm ; afraid, Ms. McVey, that you have something of a reputation of being a ; bitch to work for. So nobody else wanted the job. Except our Louise."
; ; Darcie stared at Max in sudden comprehension. "You mean...Louise was ; planted as my assistant? What for? What's going on?" She fought to ; keep panic out of her voice.
; ; "Why, to lure you here, of course. We knew you were upset at being ; merely an ornament', as you put it, at the network--another pretty ; face for another silly talk show. It didn't take too much imagination ; to guess that if the chance for a serious journalist scoop came your ; way, you would jump at it. Our estimate was, you would climb over ; anybody in your way to get that story."
; ; "Even the dowdy little assistant who brought it to you," added Louise, ; with a cruel, mocking smile at Darcie.
; ; Darcie fought down an urge to make a dash for the door. "You mean, I ; was. . . set up?"
; ; "Nicely put in your American slang, Ms. McVey," said Max. "But don't ; let that trouble you. Once your conditioning takes hold, you won't ; feel the need to keep a thought in your head. Just those thoughts that ; we put there."
; ; Darcie stared wildly around. Her eyes darted down at the table, and ; lit upon the wine list placed there by the waitress. Only now. . .the ; letters made no sense--just meaningless squiggles on the page. I can't ; read anymore! she thought hysterically. I'm becoming a brainless ; bimbo!
; ; Max leaned back in his chair. "Now," he said, "I believe we were ; discussing you becoming a spokesperson for our new spa."
; ; Darcie leaped to her feet. "If you think I'm actually going to help ; you with this sick and twisted enterprise, you're crazy! I won't. I ; can't!" She looked wildly for an exit.
; ; Max said, "I think you would be surprised at what you can do." Then, ; before she could make a dash for the door, Max's voice rapped out, ; "Stand still!"
; ; Darcie froze.
; ; Max continued with the same rough-edged commanding tone. "Take off ; your clothes. All of them. Now."
; ; As if in a dream, Darcie felt her will dissolving into non-thinking ; obedience. She watched herself strip, the trenchcoat first, then the ; rest, garment by garment, until she stood unabashedly naked before him ; and the leering Louise.
; ; "Turn around!" Max said. Darcie tried to fight back, gritting her ; teeth, but she felt her body pirouette of its own accord. She blushed ; in humiliation, knowing she was being made to show off her body for ; his pleasure. Why am I doing this? she asked herself desperately. How ; could I be conditioned and not even know it?
; ; "Position Four." Darcie sank gracefully to her knees in front of ; him. How did he make me do that? He mind screamed silently. I didn't ; even know what "position four" is. Unless. . . unless it's been ; drilled into my brain by the mind-control conditioning. . .She watched ; in frozen helplessness as he withdrew a remote control device from his ; pocket. She thought, surely he's not going to make me--
; ; Max deftly pressed one of the controls. Darcie found herself leaning ; forward, her fingers already undoing Max's trousers, her hand reaching ; inside to caress and stroke his cock. Her hand glided up and down his ; manhood, lovingly coaxing it to its maximum and impressive ; erection. It was as if her body belonged to somebody else, she thought ; in a panic. Then she realized--it did. To Max. She was now his ; property. His toy. His. . . LoveDoll. But without thinking about it, ; already her lips had parted, her tongue flicked out. Her brain was ; hardwired for passion, her eyes transfixed on his cock. Even though ; she did not consciously know what to do, her subconscious knew what ; she wanted. . .needed. . . craved.
; ; Darcie was no prude, but nothing in her experience had taught her how ; to suck cock with the sensuous technique she now displayed. The tip of ; her tongue played with the head of his cock, then slid down to lap ; gently at the underside of his gland. From time to time her pursed ; lips would kiss along the shaft, then trail up to take the head of his ; cock fully in her mouth. Her tongue and lips coaxed his cock to the ; its absolute hardest, then she began going down on him in ; earnest. Lower and lower her encapsulating lips plunged over his cock, ; while her tongue and cheeks compressed against his shaft as if to ; squeeze every ounce of pleasure from it. Darcie was beyond notice when ; his hands gripped her head and he proceed to ram his cock in and out ; of her slavering mouth with well-practiced vigor. Her mouth began ; salivating at the prospect of swallowing his cum...
; ; But Max's finger pressed another button on the remote, and Darcie ; found herself drawing her mouth off his glistening cock. She rose like ; an automaton in obedience to this new command and leaned backward ; against the table, then further back, until she was actually lying on ; her back over the linen-covered table top, legs drawn up wantonly, ; head thrown back, her hair fanning out over the edge.
; ; Max rose to his feet as well. He positioned himself against her, his ; hard, lubricated cock pressing between her love lips. Then he thrust ; forward. Darcie gasped in delight. Max's cock sank deep inside her ; pussy, then he pulled back out, then he thrust even deeper inside. He ; leaned ever further over her, arms on either side of her torso for ; balance, and proceeded to fuck her right there on the table.
; ; A warmth spread from deep in Darcie's pussy to radiate throughout her ; whole body. Never had she been this aroused! Her full breasts jiggled ; with every pounding thrust, the nipples as hard and erect as she had ; ever experienced. She seemed to be writhing in rhythm to some ; subliminal beat to the dance music. And to that small corner of ; Darcie's mind that still observed what was going on in stunned ; detachment, she realized she was no different from any of the other ; LoveDolls in the club being played with by their owners. Occasionally ; one of the other patrons would look up from his own pleasure to give ; their table a lascivious glance, but it was more like "comparison ; shopping" than any particular interest in Darcie's plight--being ; ravished right out in the open, with her shamelessly moaning with ; pleasure. Waitresses walked by without even noticing as Darcie's ; pelvis began bucking slavishly to meet each of Max's thrusts.
; ; Then Max began to build toward a climax. Faster and faster his cock ; rammed in and out of her soaking pussy. Darcie felt her own pussy ; beginning to contract and spasm as it coaxed the fullest possible ; friction out of Max's manhood. Her hands gripped the linen tablecloth, ; the thick folds clutched between her grasping fingers. As Max exploded ; inside her, Darcie felt her back arch and her mind go numb as the ; mind-conditioning treatment amplified her own orgasm. Her ; pleasure-wracked body, glistening in sweat, slumped back on the table, ; tremors still coursing through her soaking vagina.
; ; Soon her mind cleared and she slid off the table. Max was already ; sitting back in his chair, looking quite satisfied. Louise looked at ; her with the hint of a smile on her cruel, beautiful face.
; ; Max took a sip of his drink. He said, "I trust you see what I mean, ; when I say that you'd be surprised at what you can do."
; ; Darcie tried to reply, come back with some threat or insult or ; anything at all. But all she could do was stand there, like a ; mannequin on display, waiting passively for her next instruction.
; ; Max said, "I think it's your turn on stage." And he nodded to the ; stairs leading up to the elevated stage floor. "Oh, and you'll need ; this collar." He gave it to Louise, who deftly snapped it around her ; bare neck. If Darcie had not lost her ability to read, she would have ; seen her name etched in front. As it was, she understood she just ; needed the collar--felt naked without it. Darcie turned like ; mind-controlled slut she had become, and mounted the stairs, her hips ; swaying seductively. When the music began its hypnotic beat, and the ; colored lights began flashing in syncopation to the dazzling flashes ; in her brain, Darcie began dancing. Her hands slid over her body, ; squeezed her own breasts. She undulated and pranced and postured, ; using dance moves that had been drilled into her brain by a 100,000 ; virtual-reality repetitions in the mind-control chair, her body ; getting hotter by the second, her thoughts now channeled into the one ; hope that she might excite a club patron enough--it didn't matter ; which one--so that he might want to fuck her. Not seduce her, not make ; love to her--but fuck her hard like slut she had become. So Darcie ; danced with erotic abandon, surrendering to the music. Her career, her ; freedom, her hatred of Max--all these seem to evaporate under those ; flashing stage lights. The important thing was to be the perfect sex ; toy for whoever was selected for her. . .
; ; But Max had other plans for her.
; ;
; ; Two months later, Darcie's smiling face could be seen in a ; head-and-shoulders shot on the video monitor. It was a setting in ; which she would have felt quite at home, in her earlier life: a ; television studio.
; ; Darcie looked directly into the camera, her face perfectly made up and ; her eyes sparkling.. "Hi there, girls!" she said. "I know a lot of you ; have wondered why I decided to leave my talk show. Well, I must ; confess--I've been indulging myself these past few weeks at a new ; health spa. The name is "For Girls Only", and they took such great ; care of me, I knew I had to get involved. So I've said ta-ta to my ; talk show, and agreed to become the chief spokeswoman for this ; marvelous resort." The view cut to a interior pool, with massage ; tables, fountains, and beauty-chairs. Women lounged about, some being ; massaged, others getting pedicures and facials, and other simply ; relaxing and talking at the pool. All the women looked attractive and ; very happy. (The camera was too far back for a viewer to see their ; opaque doll eyes, and wrapped towels and free-flowing hair styles hid ; any trace of the metal jacks at the back of their heads).
; ; Darcie's silky voice continued the voice-over. "At the For Girls Only ; Spa, each client is treated like a princess. At this exclusive island ; resort, the staff is dedicated to providing everything you need to ; make you a new person. The latest workouts, steam baths, beauty-aids ; and body works are all yours, in a surprisingly low cost package." The ; camera returned to the close up of Darcie. "So apply now, because ; reservations are limited, by calling the toll-free number at the ; bottom of the screen. Let me make this personal invitation enjoy to ; this marvelous new world of pampering. At this spa, it truly is a ; girl's world', as I used to say on my show before joined these ; wonderful people" she concluded perkily. "So see you there!"
; ; Max leaned over and snapped off the large screen television with a ; flourish. director of Marketing and Louise, both sitting across from ; him. "That ad ran last week in six select metropolitan markets in ; North America. The response has exceeded our expectations. We now have ; on file over eight hundred applications. The staff has made an initial ; culling, and it looks like out of that total we have at least two ; hundred good candidates for conversion into LoveDolls. Natural beauty, ; limited family and boyfriend connections, psychological aptitude for ; servitude--the questionnaires and photos give us excellent ; background. I trust that solves our supply problem."
; ; The Director of Marketing beamed. "Max, you are to be ; congratulated. You hit the mother load--an unlimited source of ; potential LoveDolls. And the idea of basing all this on an island ; resort, far from surveillance or government interference--well, that ; was just brilliant."
; ; Max nodded. "It really is a world-class spa, you know," he said. Most ; of the women will go back home, looking tanned and fit and bubbling ; with good thing say about the service they received. And why not? The ; cost is being subsidized by the sale of those that remain with us, to ; be converted into marketable LoveDolls. But you know, we should also ; give credit where credit is due. Our little celebrity really showed ; off her star quality." And he turned slightly in his chair to smile at ; Darcie. "Well done on that presentation, Ms. McVey."
; ; But Darcie did not respond. She didn't speak, except when they trotted ; her out for more commercials at the spa's private television ; studio. She knelt on hands and knees, head upraised, back arched, ; breasts jutting coquettishly for easy handling, quite naked except for ; her high-heeled strap-pumps, upon the upraised pedestal at the far ; side of Max's office, her exquisitely maintained body on display. The ; platform slowly revolved, one turn every five minutes, so that anybody ; who watched could see every curve and contour of her body as she ; maintained this lascivious posture. Her augmented breasts swayed ; slightly with the motion, and her hips undulated in a manner designed ; to stimulate the male libido. As the platform completed the revolution ; while Max was talking, Darcie gracefully moved into another position, ; by slowly lowering herself submissively to her elbows, her nipples of ; her full, swaying breasts barely brushing the surface of the ; platform. Her tongue flicked out to keep her lips moist and inviting, ; making her look even more infinitely desirable. This how she spent ; much of her day, as living sculpture in Max's office.
; ; "You know," said Max, "I don't know why Ms. McVey objected so much to ; being--how did she put it?--ornamental. She does it so well." He ; studied the upraised ass of the girl as it slowly turned to face him, ; the thighs nicely toned and spread invitingly wide. "Oh, I rather ; fancy that," he murmured. He kept her remote control on a tasteful ; mount on his desk. Throughout the day, he would use her as the mood ; took him, beckoning her over for a head job as he talked to agents in ; the far-flung network of their LoveDoll ring. Or, if he was ; entertaining a prospective client, he might casually toss them ; Darcie's remote and bid them to indulge themselves. And who wouldn't ; want that, to ravish the sexually-charged LoveDoll who had once been ; such a television celebrity?.
; ; "Louise," said Max, "while we are passing around compliments, I must ; say you have done a marvelous job with her. It takes only a few ; sessions of mind-conditioning to imprint these speeches in her brain ; and she never drops a line in the taping of these commercials. Judging ; from the response to the spa ads, there's quite a population of young ; women who still hang on her every word. We'll be doing another ; commercial tomorrow."
; ; "Thank you, sir," said the trainer modestly. She looked at Darcie with ; a mocking, hard-edged smile. "Although I'm not sure she's giving us a ; full hundred percent, yet." Louise withdrew the flogger attached to ; her leather corset and slid its deceptively supple strands along ; Darcie's trembling skin. "But we're getting there, aren't we, dear? ; I'll give her another motivation session before the next showtime."
; ; Darcie blinked. The Director of Marketing and Louise left the room.
; ; Max's intercom buzzed. "The first boatload of girls are disembarking, ; sir. You said you wanted to be notified."
; ; "Thank you," said Max. "Please patch in the dock-cam." He switched on ; the television screen again. A cruise ship could be seen moored in the ; distance of the aqua-marine bay, and the landing boat was just tying ; up at the dock. A group of nubile young women, laughing and talking ; excitedly among themselves in the bright sun, were being escorted to ; the spa. Max knew before the week was out, the best and most beautiful ; of them would be transformed into docile sex slaves, conditioned to ; serve their new masters. Those fresh-faced expressions and innocent ; smiles would soon be smoldering with programmed lust. The thought made ; his manhood stir. He glanced at his watch--he had just enough time ; before the next meeting. Max studied the lovely form of Darcie on the ; pedestal. She was gracefully shifting into another position, ; choreographed long ago as part of her conditioning, as she leaned back ; and supported herself with one elbow, while her hand sensuously ; massaged her sex between the wide-spread thighs. Max gazed at his ; LoveDoll, letting his mind romp with the possibilities of how to use ; her this time. Then he reached for the remote control. . . ; ;