Home Artists Posts Import Register

Content

Here's my first commission for March! I was asked to write a story about an inter-dimensional group that turned villains into sex dolls. I, ah... got a bit out of hand while writing it. I hope folks enjoy!

-

(Contains dollification)

Operation Log 106637

Time Period: Beacon’s End

Target(s): Villains associated with the ‘Fall of Beacon’ Event

Team: PUPPETMASTER

Operative: Agent Midnight

-

Pyrrha Nikos couldn’t move. She was trying – oh, was she ever trying – but her muscles just wouldn’t listen to her through the pain. She was kind of ashamed of it, in a quiet way. She… well, she hadn’t wanted to lose this fight, but she’d known that it could happen. No, that it was almost certainly going to happen. Her opponent had already defeated Professor Ozpin – what was she in comparison to a man like that? She was only a student, for god’s sake. But no, she’d gone in aiming to win - because what was the point if she fought to lose - and knowing that, even if she lost, at least she’d die doing the right thing. It would be a glorious death, she could manage at least that much.

But what was glorious about dying on her knees, paralysed by an arrow through her heel? Nothing. She was alone. She’d failed. No one had arrived to help, or to carry on the fight. This woman, whoever she was, had swept everyone aside, thrown all of Vale into chaos, and now… Was about to kill her. She could see it in her eyes. No, she knew exactly who this woman was – what kind of monster she’d been unable to protect her world from.

It was a glum thought, but a dying woman like Pyrrha didn’t have many bright and cheery ones to distract themselves with. There was a strength in her, a grim certainty that she had done the right thing, but… It was hard not to despair, knowing that all of her work, all of her struggles, her training, her isolation, her fights, everything she’d been, had drawn her to this. Dying alone, cold, and in pain, on a rooftop above a burning city.

Some Destiny. How could she have been so wrong?

By contrast, Cinder Fall was flying high and burning with power. To think that the full power of the Maiden could be so potent? So much! And this was just a quarter – a fragment of the whole that she had been promised. The other Maidens – they were out there. Ready. Waiting for her. Their power would be hers as well, soon enough. And then… And then…

Despite all her trials – Ozpin, the tower exploding, their battle… She didn’t have a scratch. She truly had power now, she was truly strong now. Not just some scrappy upstart, not just some cowering thing on the streets – No, no, she was something now, she was someone now! Not only would the world know her name – they would fear it. They would fear her.

And this foolish red headed child would be a wonderful start to her campaign of terror. The perfect first example of what Remnant should expect. No mercy. No remorse. Pyrrha Nikos, child of Mistral, protégé of Ozpin, had been an excellent pawn in her campaign – and now she’d serve one last purpose in death.

The Maiden plucked an arrow and drew her bow – and then hesitated. Pyrrha had looked up, their eyes meeting across the tower. There was no strength in her – no chance of her rising. She was defeated, and they were both well aware of the fact. They both knew that her end was nigh. And yet…

And yet there was no fear in her. Hate, yes. Anger, yes. Pain, oh yes. But no fear. Just a steadfast determination that refused to be cowed.

“Do you believe in destiny?”

… What a question to ask. A strange waste of her final breath. And yet… Cinder felt compelled to answer. A touch of respect, perhaps, for a fallen foe who had, at least, provided a challenge. It wasn’t as though she didn’t know the indignity of being down on one’s knees, at the mercy of another.

She opened her mouth to respond-

-And gagged as something flew down her throat unexpectedly, wind rushing through her mouth in its wake. “W-what?” She coughed, her aim shaking. A trick? But no – Pyrrha looked just as confused.

“Shot successful,” A voice echoing through a filtered mask spoke up from the edge of the tower. The air shimmered, and suddenly a figure in dark, form fitting armour stood revealed, holding some kind of bow like device of their own in their hands. “Payload delivered. Control are you sure this aura bypass technique is going to work?”

“Who-“ Cinder found herself overcome by another coughing fit, almost doubling over. Her bow clattered to the floor, shattering apart into dust fragments as a strange weakness shot through her. “Who dares!” She finally managed to roar, throwing out a wave of flame towards the intruder, who threw themselves aside to dodge.

“She’s not looking any weaker! How quickly is this stuff supposed to do its job?!”

“You pathetic insect, what haaaah…” Cinder tried to snarl, but found herself running out of breath half way through the words. “What haaaaaahhh…” Her second attempt trailed off into a high pitched wheeze.

“Oh, no, I think it’s having an effect… Woah!” Again, the dark figure jumped back, just barely managing to avoid another burst of fire as the Fall Maiden tried again to attack – only to find herself struggling to keep the heat up, her arms faltering and drooping as weakness wracked her body.

“What…” She shuddered. Something strange was happening. She felt odd. Queasy? Her stomach was bubbling like she’d swallowed a vial of wind dust. What had they thrown down her throat?! She reached up to rub at it with one hand, the other trying to summon another fireball to finally deal with this pest, but her fingers reported something strange as they brushed against the skin of her neck. They didn’t find the warm, even heated flesh they expected – no, instead they rubbed up against something that felt… smoother. Colder. Soft and… plastic.

Her eyes widened and she looked down, trying to see what strange material had wrapped around her throat but there was nothing there. And worse, looking down, she could now see that it wasn’t just her neck that had changed. No, below that, her chest had also taken on a strange, muted colouration, having lost all marks and flaws that had denoted her skin, instead replacing them all with pale pink plastic perfection. The odd ‘stain’ on her skin had spread over the entirety of her upper chest, plainly visible in her low-cut dress, and now that she was looking she could see it starting to creep down her shoulders, too. What on earth was happening?!

Enough was enough. There was only one place she could get answers, and she was going to get them. She’d extract them from a flaming corpse, if that was what it took! Cinder stepped forwards, towards the stranger, her arm sheathed in blazing fire, her red dress practically glowing from the heat. She would make this fool cower, make him beg to fix whatever he had done to her!

And then she opened her mouth. “Yooooohhhhhhh…” She got half way through the first syllable before her lips locked up, freezing in place while still curling around the ‘Oh’ sound, pouted in a perfectly round ring. Wind whistled through her mouth for a moment, her eyes widening as her ability to talk seemed to abandon her entirely… But only for a moment, because after a second the winds changed direction. Suddenly she was sucking inwards, air rushing into her lungs as though she were taking a deep, deep breath – deeper than any she had ever taken before. More air than she thought her lungs could hold!

She was right, in a way. It wasn’t her lungs that would hold all that air. In fact, her lungs, as she thought of them, no longer really existed. She no longer needed them, though she wasn’t aware of the fact just yet. But she’d soon be aware that something was up, as her dress began to dig into her chest – or rather, her chest began to dig into her dress. Her breasts were both expanding, rapidly, swelling up from a rather proud pair of reasonably sized breasts all the way to mega mammaries, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. Desperately the fiery fiend tried to restrain her chest, or stop her mouth from taking in any more air, and failed at both. The growth didn’t stop until her red dress tore apart, splitting down the seams with a harsh ripping sound, her breasts bouncing free into the burning night air.

Cinder’s head spun. What was happening?! She’d been on the cusp of total victory – the sudden veer into confusing nonsense left her reeling. But even her surprise couldn’t explain this nonsense. Emerald… Had Emerald betrayed her? No, impossible – the girl was wrapped around her little finger tighter than any ring. But how could this be real?

And to be honest, Pyrrha was thinking something fairly similar. The ‘Invincible Girl’, who was feeling anything but, hadn’t been idle. As someone had distracted Cinder, she’d tried to leap into action – but her heel-based paralysis hadn’t gone anywhere, and all she managed was falling on her face. But that was at least a start, and the girl was nothing if not determined, so she’d made the best of it and dragged herself bloodily inch by inch over to cover, using some fallen rocks to shield herself and buy time to recover. Not that she had much chance of that if the Fall Maiden remembered that she existed… And yet, as she watched what was happening, the red head was starting to think that that might not happen. What was she witnessing here? It was like nothing she’d ever seen before!

Her eyes were pretty sharp – she was no faunus, sure, but her vision was clear enough to see Cinder’s transformation in all of its glory. She could see as the odd change in her skin tone spread up through her chest and through her neck – indeed, she noticed it before the woman herself did. And she had a prime seat view as this bizarre… ‘infection’ spread out, down over her shoulders and along her arms, up over her throat and around her chin. The champion could do little more than watch as her opponent was converted, consumed by the change, her arms falling totally limp as they turned completely, Cinder’s fingers straightening into soft, solid masses, her flames flickering and dying.

And the wave was spreading over her face too, locking her lips in a wide ‘O’ shape, freezing her expression in one of confused, impotent rage for a moment, before… Before her eyes and nose began to flatten, and her cheeks began to round. Her eyelids curled down, and her forehead relaxed – certainly not a voluntary decision on Cinder’s part – her expression sliding into a lidded eyed ‘seductive’ look before it locked completely, the woman’s facial features turning into simple painted lines on an oval shaped head.

Pyrrha couldn’t miss, either, the way that the round hole in Cinder’s face – which no longer seemed entirely like a mouth to her, even though it was painted with red artificial lipstick marks – began sucking in air, or what happened to the woman as a result. Everywhere on the woman’s body that had been taken by the plastic wave – which was pretty much everywhere now - puffed up, as though she had been turned into some kind of human shaped balloon. Her limbs swelled, inflated into arm and leg shaped tubes, capped with puffy mittens with painted on fingers or toes, while her body…


The red head couldn’t help but wince at the sound of tearing cloth as Cinder’s dress was pulled apart, both above around her growing breasts, and below on her expanding ass. It remained intact only around her waist, which stayed slim even as it took on the same floaty qualities as the rest of her. And indeed, it was all of her now – there wasn’t an inch of Cinder Fall which wasn’t fake, cheap plastic, aside from her hair, which had been replaced by a dark nylon wig. Thanks to the shredding of her dress, Pyrrha could even see that the space between her legs and turned into an O, just like her mouth – and she didn’t need to be a detective to suspect the same had happened in her rear. If Cinder hadn’t been standing there, in all her glory, surrounded by the shredded remains of her dignity, it would have been impossible to tell that the villain had ever even been human.

And then, slowly, as given for a plastic form filled with air, she fell over, gently tumbling down onto her back, her legs spreading out, her arms bending at the elbow into an invitation to anyone looking at her. And the transformation was complete.

Cinder Fall was a sex doll.

Silence settled on the top of the tower. Even the distant screams of grimm and the sounds of the ongoing battle failed to penetrate the strangeness of what had just happened. Pyrrha could only hear the sounds of her own heartbeat, and the quiet squeak of Cinder as she gently rocked in the wind.

Well… That had happened.

Grunting, she reached down, and with a pained yelp that she tried her best contain with gritted teeth, she yanked the bolt out of her foot. Her aura was exhausted, but she could feel it starting to recover, and it would be bad if her body started to heal with that still in her. That was important to keep in mind – tending to her injuries.

Then she stood up, and limped over to the fallen woman, her shield returning to her with an absent though. Her weapon was in bad shape, but…

… No. No, she was in a bit of a haze here, and that was why she wasn’t addressing the biggest issue her. She tried to clear her head, and turned.

The cloaked man was still there, still talking into some kind of communicator. “Yeah. It’s done – she’s dolled. Your idea worked. Congrats – maybe get it working faster next time, I was almost cooked up here.”

He was part of a group then. An unknown one – but one who had just saved her life and defeated the rogue fall Maiden, even if their method of doing so was rather disturbing. She was grateful, make no mistake… But more than a little concerned, at the same time. “Um. Excuse me?”

The cloak looked over at her. “Oh. Yeah, got someone talking to me – yeah, the red head. Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’ll report later. Let me wrap this up.” He tapped his mask, and then walked over. “Sorry for the intrusion there, Miss, but it looked like you needed a hand.”

“… Yes,” she sighed, nodding. “I’m afraid I did. Thank you – I owe you my life. But… If I might ask… What did you do to her?”

Pyrrha glanced back over her shoulder. Cinder was still laying there, staring up at the dark night sky, arms and legs spread, her plasticised holes open and on offer. The champion wasn’t so sheltered as to not know what she’d been turned into.

“…” The masked man was silent for a moment. Pyrrha got the sense that he was choosing his words carefully. “We removed her from the scenario. She was an obvious threat, but a powerful one. So we had to take steps to get around her defences and nullify the danger she posed to this world.” He paused again. “Shut up command.”

There were a lot of questions that Pyrrha could have asked about any part of that answer. But honestly, there was one part that grabbed her attention and refused to let go. “… This world?”

“… I’ve said too much.” He muttered and shook his head, before stepping around her. “It’s best that you forget this meeting ever happened, miss Nikos. Tell anyone who asks that you were the one who defeated Fall. It would be simpler for everyone, believe me.”

“But…” Her protest was strong, but her reaction was weak. Her attempt to turn to follow him was met with a wall of pain swimming up from her foot. She winced and reminded herself she was still in a terrible position.

“Please, Miss Nikos – Pyrrha. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Think of it as payment for saving your life and stopping her – the people I represent can’t afford to be lax with secrecy. I don’t want to have to make threats, but they take this kind of thing… seriously.” He reached down and picked up the doll, slinging it haphazardly over his shoulder, Cinder squeaking as she was squeezed and bobbing from the motion.

“… Alright.” She’d been stuck knowing about so many secret conspiracies in recent days. What was one more? “I’ll… come up with something.” She didn’t like the idea of taking credit for someone else’s actions, but she didn’t have much of a choice here. “But what are you going to do with her?”

He shrugged at that, already walking away. “Better you not ask. We’ll keep her contained – even safe – but somewhere where she can’t hurt anyone ever again.” He paused to look around at the burning city. “I’d dare say it’s better than she deserves, but we do try to be humane about these things.”

“I see.” What else was there to say? She could hardly protest. Even if she felt it warranted, she didn’t have the strength to do anything. Her aura was starting to work – she could feel her heel burning as it began to heal – but she was still a far, far cry from the ‘Invincible Girl’. She sighed, and looked once more at the woman who had nearly killed her. Cinder’s head was bouncing up and down on the cloaked man’s shoulder – but their eyes still met for a moment.

There was a flash, and the smell of burning filled the air as a burst of red, blazing power suddenly shot from the doll and damn near knocked Pyrrha from her feet. She blinked as she suddenly felt her aura start to surge, her wounds healing, her strength returning – and then more besides, as something new and strong filled her body. “W-what?”

“Oh. Huh.” The cloak stopped, looking back at her. “I guess a doll can’t hold onto the power of a Maiden. Congratulations Miss Nikos – or is it Miss Fall, now? … Enjoy your well-earned reward. And please, maybe be a bit more careful about throwing your life away in the future, hm?”

“…” Pyrrha stared at her hands, as flames began to burn around her fingertips. This much power… It was…

A roar split the sky, and the red head spun around. The grimm dragon had finally returned, and it looked upset, charging straight for the tower, for the place where its mistress had fallen. Power and hate radiated from it like heat from the sun.

It had to be stopped.

“It’s coming – you have to…” Pyrrha looked over her shoulder. The cloak was gone, along with Cinder. She was alone. Again.

Alright. She could-

“Pyrrha!” A red blur careened over the lip of the tower, landing in a shower of rose petals. “We have to go!”

“Ruby?” The red head blinked. Okay. Not so alone then.

“Pyrrha!” The smaller huntress was instantly by her side and talking a mile a minute. “Ohmygod you’re okay! We’ve got to -Wait, what happened to Miló and Akoúo̱?! Oh no, who could be so horrible, Pyrrha I’m so sorry but we’ve gotta go!”

Another roar rumbled through the sky. The dragon was getting closer. Pyrrha stared at it. “I’m not leaving that thing here. It’s too dangerous.”

“What?” Ruby followed her gaze. “Oh. Um. Yeah, it is, but we’d need an army to… Pyrrha, everyone’s leaving, the evacuation’s almost over, we have to leave, I don’t know if we can fight that. You don’t even have a weapon…”

Fire swirled in her hands. Lightning gathered around her fist. A lance of elements shaped itself for her. “No. I do.”

“Oh wow. How are you…” Ruby stopped and shook her head. The questions weren’t important right now. “Okay. If you’re fighting it… Then so am I.” Her silver eyes sparkled.

And now it was Pyrrha’s turn to fret. “What? No, Ruby, you have to-“

“We’re both hunters, Pyrrha.” Ruby’s smile was far wiser than her young age would have implied. “This is what we do. Besides… I always wanted to hunt a dragon.” She slid a new bolt into Crescent Rose and pumped the loader. “Let’s do this. And then you can tell me where you got those cool powers from.”

“Of course.” Somehow reassured, the once again Invincible girl raised her shield and prepared to charge with her friend. “I’ll tell you everything.”

Well. Almost everything.

-
Mission Statement:

Operation VIPERS is an extreme solution for a complex problem. The multiverse is wide, and we understand little of it, though our knowledge is ever growing. Though our maps continue to expand, we see no sign of reaching any conclusion to its mass in the foreseeable future. Despite our technology, it is truly too vast for us to comprehend. There will always be more worlds to discover, more civilizations to learn from.

But we do understand this: Our worlds are entwined. We do not live in an isolated system, despite what appearances first led us to believe. One world affects all others in its vicinity, through methods we are still unsure of. When one world is in peril, all feel the rising danger. The rise of a dictator in one nation can lead to mass riots a universe over. The triumph of a hero can lead to hope and light surging throughout that corner of multiversal space. Great actions have great effects. And the more volatile a world, the wider their ramifications will spread.

And many worlds are volatile places indeed.

We call this effect ‘Synchronicity’.

In the interests of not just stabilising the multiverse on the side of good, but also preserving our own civilisation, it was decided that Synchronicity was too powerful a phenomenon to be left unchecked. Thus we sought a way to contain, or perhaps even contain it. And in the end we found a way – one that many might consider immoral, but this was deemed immaterial in the greater scheme of things.

On each world we analysed we discovered a running commonality – people of unexpectedly large levels of influence on history. People who had, for lack of a better term, ‘shaped the destiny’ of their timelines. Some for good – and many for evil. Based on admittedly simplistic logic, we dubbed these people ‘Heroes’ and ‘Villains’. Heroes worked towards stability the of their worlds, fighting back danger or restoring peace. Villains were the opposite – destroying peaceful or stable structures in the name of their own petty motivations.

Heroes are not a threat through Synchronicity. Villains are. In our hunt for a solution, Operation VPRS (Vipers) – Villain Prevention and Retrieval Service – was born. It is our mission to investigate each world we come across from our neutral position, determine the danger of a Synchronicity cascade, and, if necessary, take steps to prevent that occurrence by removing these Villainous Agents from the field of play.

By any means necessary.

-

Cinder Fall raged. She’d been trapped, captured, and abducted, her plans foiled and her powers stolen, but her determination to destroy the ones against her had never wavered. Her soul was a burning flame of fury that would only ever be quenched by ripping the heart of out the man who’d done this to her, and consuming the soul of that stupid red head who’d stolen her earned power!

The heat of her hate surrounded what was left of her, protected her, saved her, she knew. She’d felt it as the insidious drug, or magic, or whatever it was they had used on her, had stolen over her. She’d felt the surge of… of pleasure as her chest had pushed out and destroyed her dress. Had felt the ecstasy as her slit had spread itself and her innards were converted into comfortable fuck holes. Had felt it as she lost all control, all ability to move, as her head turned hollow and light. She could feel the creeping thoughts trying to slip into her mind, into her soul. Strange, foreign, happy thoughts, filled with lust and dripping with mindless happiness.

Those thoughts weren’t her – they were just another part of this trap to turn her into a slutty sex toy. They weren’t going to find her so easy. They may have turned her body with their foul methods, but they’d never have her mind or soul. And one day she would find a way to undo what had happened, and then she would make them rue every single second that had passed between then and now. That was her promise to herself.

She’d been taken… somewhere, she knew that. Her senses still functioned, despite her inflatable form. She could still see through her painted-on eyes, though she couldn’t really direct her vision, and she could still hear despite lacking any ears. And she could fell, dark god have mercy she could feel – even so much as a light brush against her plastic skin sent unimaginable waves of pleasure rolling through her, heights of which she’d never known could have existed before… accompanied by more and more of those vapid, mindless sex doll thoughts. It was only her anger that saved her – if she hadn’t held on to that, if she didn’t shield herself with the heat of her rage, then she would have been swept away, her thoughts rewritten into simple, empty things, and she would have become a fuckable air-headed plastic dick vacuum completely.

But she’d endured – and so she had watched as the brat had absorbed her Maiden power – the power she had earned, that the bitch had no right to! – and she had seen as her captor had stepped through a portal into another place – another world, if the words she had heard had been any indication. They’d emerged in a large metal chamber – her occasional glances around as the fool carrying her had turned revealed multiple gate-like devices, presumably the things that generated the portals these people seemed to travel through. Interesting – not even Atlas was capable of that yet. Whoever these people were, they were capable of creating incredibly advanced technology. Perhaps her captor’s claims of being from another world weren’t simply hyperbole.

“Agent Midnight, you’ve returned.” A female voice caused the man carrying her to draw up short – but she couldn’t see where it had come from. All she could do was listen. “And I see you’ve brought yet another prize home with you.”

“Director Yash, sir.” Cinder felt the man shift, and his grip on her move, sending a bolt of pink, happy thought through her empty head before she furiously swatted them aside. Perhaps he’d saluted? “I’m happy to report another successful mission. Hopefully that will assist in stabilising the region’s Synchronicity.”

“I take it that this… thing, was once one of the villains destabilising things?” Thing? She wasn’t a thing! She was a person! A powerful, dangerous, sexy person! Cinder felt her rage ratchet up another notch and welcomed the sensation. The more anger the better. Eventually she’d work out how to get free. She’d return to being the woman that everyone feared, that everyone wanted to serve and fuck.

“One of them, yep.” A hand smacked her inflated ass, and Cinder’s vision swam pink for a moment, a moan echoing in her head before she furiously reasserted control. “It was a relatively small group, but that world’s pretty precarious. And I wouldn’t count them as safe yet – our research indicated there might be a bigger guiding hand at work than we could detect at present.”

“We’ll be keeping an eye on the situation, of course.” Hmph. So they were going to go after Salem? Overconfident fools… But then again, maybe they really could fight her. If so… Then she’d need to take that power for herself once she regained human form. “Midnight, I have to ask – do you really have to turn your targets into these things? It’s degrading.”

Cinder bounced up and down as the man, this ‘Midnight’, shrugged, and the explosion of pleasure in her breasts as they rubbed up and down his back meant she missed the start of his response. “-effective in situations where no other solution has worked. Most of these bitches don’t think to have a defence against being turned into a sex doll, you know?”

He would be screaming for mercy for days, months, before she let him die.

“No. Few do. Still, surely a bullet would be a simpler method of eliminating the target?”

“Not as often as you’d think. Take this one, for example.” Suddenly, Cinder found herself moving, being dragged over his shoulder and held upright, dangling by her nylon hair in front of a bespectacled brunette woman in a dark, form fitting catsuit. The sensation of being held so tightly was muted, but still enflamed her lusts, and forced her to scream angrily inside her head to deny herself the ability to moan. “The people on her world have this ‘aura’ ability that gives them invisible eternal armour and regeneration. She wouldn’t have even felt a sniper shot if it hit her between the eyes. Had to get the dollification pellet right down her throat before it could affect her – I figured if she could get nourishment from food then she would probably absorb the shot so long as I could get it inside her. Took a risk, but that’s the job we’re in.”

To demonstrate he stuck up a finger, and then jabbed it into Cinder’s open mouth, swirling it around the plastic tube that had replaced her teeth and tongue. She nearly melted – the sensation was incredible, ten-fold as intense as a touch to her skin. If she’d been able to move she might have automatically closed her lips to start sucking on his digit. It felt as though he had stuck himself directly into her brain and was giving her mind a swirl. Desperately she pulled on her rage to protect her, but it wasn’t… she couldn’t…!

He pulled his finger out, her lips making an automatic ‘pop’ping sound, and she mentally gasped with relief. That had been… intense. Very intense. But she could endure it. She was… She was Cinder Doll. She could endure… anything…

“I notice,” this ‘Director’ Yash was saying, “that your answer to a lot of these situations is ‘turn the villains into dolls’. And you’ve brought quite a collection back home with you.”

Cinder let out a quiet ‘Squeak!’ and a silent moan as she was hoisted back over Midnight’s shoulder. “Yeah, true. But hey, Agent Grey brings them back as bimbos, and Agent Teller brings them back as mindless hypnotised slaves… We all have our methods, Director. So long as we get results, it’s all good, right? That’s the Viper creed.”

“I know, I know.” There was a sigh. “I just worry that you’re letting yourself get too close to the danger in pursuit of your methods. Your overseer told me you ended up in pretty hot water this time out.”

“… It got a bit sticky, but I had it under control, Sir. Not to worry.” Bastard! If he hadn’t caught her by surprise he would have been toast! How dare he treat her so lightly!

But naturally the Director took no heed of Cinder’s ire. “Your safety is important, Midnight. Remember that. Otherwise… Excellent job. Go get some rest, you’ve earned it.”

“Thank you sir!” Midnight’s voice was suddenly a lot happier. “And, ah- the other two I sent back, are they…?” Wait. Other two? He’d taken other dollies?

“They’re waiting in your quarters as per usual,” the Director said, sounding amused. “Go enjoy yourself. Dismissed.”

“Thank you sir!”

And with that, they were on the move again. The large chamber and glasses wearing director disappeared behind a sturdy looking metal door, and featureless metal hallways lined with numerous doors marked with odd symbols trailed in Cinder’s view. She didn’t see any windows as they passed – an underground base, perhaps? She was learning more and more about her situation. All information she’d eventually be able to use, she was sure of it.

That conversation had been interesting. So, these people hunted down people like her, did they? And their mission was elimination, by any means necessary – which, it seemed, included turning women into fuckable and comfortable sex toys. But then, if what she’d heard had been true and they had a multitude of methods for dealing with their targets, then they must have quite a lot of resources at their disposal. Resources she could put to use, once she was free. She’d have to pay close attention to how things worked around here, preparing for that day. If she could successfully steal this group’s secrets, her revenge would be all the simpler for it.

Her idle fantasies of just what she would do to those who had wronged her kept Cinder mercifully defended against the occasional brushes with pleasure as they made their way through the halls, only really being interrupted by a short trip on an elevator – during which a few other passengers had made a number of lewd remarks about the size of her bust and Midnight’s ‘way with the ladies’, and she had added each and every face to her tally of how many people she was going to burn alive.

But eventually they came to their destination – Midnight stepped through a door into a personal dorm room, and carried Cinder was brought along for the ride. It was a rather nice flat, with a separate kitchen and bedroom, but obviously her ability to assess the place was limited right now. The woman/doll was conflicted. The trip through the facility had been good for gathering information, but she was also relieved that her public humiliation was at an end – being marched naked through the halls was not an experience she would treasure. And the part of her that was disappointed to lose all of those eyes on her was thoroughly quashed by her rage.

There was still a little indignity left in store for her though, as she felt herself be thrown, rather than gently handled, over onto the bed. She landed on her back with a squeak, bouncing lightly for a few moments before settling. In the corner of her gaze she saw Midnight, his back to her already, walk away and into the next room.

Alright. It was time to begin. She didn’t imagine that escaping this humiliating sexy confinement was going to be easy, but this was her body, and it, like everyone else, would eventually obey her. Surely working out how to move and reverse what had been done to her was just a matter of trying things until something worked. She had the willpower and the motivation. All she needed was time and a good f- And a little luck.

“Ha!” The sound of laughter from the kitchen drew her attention, and a moment later Midnight reappeared, carrying something else. Just like he had done with her, he threw whatever it was onto the bed, before stepping back out again, leaving Cinder to her own company.

Or… did he? She peered at whatever had landed beside her from the corner of her eye. It was something big and long – shorter than her, perhaps, but still human sized. It had a rather pale surface, with two large bulges sticking out of its front and a shock of brown, pink and white hair- Neo?

If Cinder could have moved her eyes would have shot open wide in shock. Yes! No doubt about it, that was Neopolitan – Roman’s henchgirl and one of her helpers in the plan to bring Vale down around Ozpin’s ears. And now she was lying face up, face blank and legs spread, just like Cinder. She too had become a doll. One of the two Midnight had asked about? Then the other must have been-

Something big and surprisingly light suddenly landed on top of the pair, bouncing Neo over the edge of the bed and drawing another squeak from Cinder as her middle was squished down before she puffed back up again. This time, though, the black-haired doll ignored the indignity, because she recognised the darker shaded skin of the new doll that had been added to the pile. Emerald Sustrai had been captured as well, it seemed – and had been subjected to the same fate as the rest of them. She had landed face down, her ass raised up in the air, but there was no doubt she had the same frozen expression as her compatriots.

Well, not exactly the same. Cinder felt a small flare of anger as she realised that her younger minion wasn’t an inflatable sex doll – she was a silicone model, a more expensive, more permanent kind of sex toy, one you couldn’t deflate and stick in a box when you didn’t need her. Her skin wasn’t as glossy, her face wasn’t flat – she was almost realistic, for a doll. Neo had been the same, now that she thought of it. Suddenly the former fall Maiden was feeling… cheap.

The anger helped her focus. Cinder Doll pushed aside the annoyance she felt and tried to call out. Emerald wasn’t just her minion – she was a telepath. Usually she used her ability to create illusions for her targets, but right now if she could use it to connect their minds then they would be able to communicate – and Cinder would have someone to help her break free. ‘Emerald? Emerald, can you hear me?’

A whisper. She could swear she heard a whisper of Emerald’s voice. It wasn’t much, but Cinder seized on it. ‘Emerald!’ And then she hesitated. Her relationship with Emerald was one she’d carefully constructed – a delicate balance of honey and vinegar, in the name of control. She wasn’t about to let that slip – she wouldn’t let the girl hear any desperation or concern in her voice. She would be as cool and in control as ever. ‘Emerald. Can you respond?’

‘… uck…. e… ck… m….’

Another whisper. It was definitely Emerald’s voice, but she wasn’t speaking clearly. Cinder felt her patience – what little of it she had – snap like a twig. ‘Speak to me you stupid girl!’

And then the words got louder, and the former fall Maiden regretted having said anything at all.

‘Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck-!‘

If Cinder could have gone pale, she would have. She could feel the pure, mindless lust in Emerald’s thoughts. No, it was a mistake to call this thing Emerald – it was a fuck doll now, through and through. A thing, not a living being. Her mind had dissolved into pure dolly thoughts, about wanting to be used, to be fucked, to suck and fuck and pleasure and serve and-

With a mental gasp, Cinder pushed Emerald – the fuck doll -’s mind away. She could feel it projecting its basic dolly desires onto her, pushing the lust she was fighting further into her, and she wouldn’t have it. Emerald had been weak, apparently. Cinder Doll had always suspected it, but now she had proof. Idly, she wondered if Neo was the same – another mindless fuck doll just waiting to be used, and nothing more. If so, so be it. She was alone. But she would triumph none the less.

When Midnight returned once again, the black-haired doll was half wondering if he had another former woman to add to the heap. But no, it was just the two for now, as he’d said… For now? Hm, what a strange thought. Was she already anticipating other love dolls being brought home, from her world or from others? For a moment, she pondered on the idea, and the image of a black and white doll with red eyes and spread legs entered her mind…

It was such a distracting idea that she nearly missed the Agent start moving her and her companions around, laying all three of them on the bed, side by side, Neo on her left and Emerald to her right. But she couldn’t miss him as he started to strip down. W-wait, what was he doing? Why was he climbing onto the bed with the three of them? Th-there wasn’t much room, what did he intend to…?!

It should be noted that for all that Cinder’s rage had protected her core, it had also distracted her. So consumed with rage at what she had become was she that she never once imagined that someone might seek to use her for her new intended purpose. Despite the burning pleasure, she’d never- no, in fact, because of the burning pleasure, she’d never allowed herself to think for even a moment the idea of being used. The thought alone might prove to be too much. She hadn’t dared. But now it wasn’t the thought that she was faced with – it was the very deed itself. And now she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, ladies,” Midnight chuckled, inspecting his newest collection. “I’m sure you’ve been stewing in there. But have no fear – I’m here for you now. And why don’t we start with the cheapest one amongst you, just to kick things off?”

Cinder had a moment of pure, unfiltered rage – at being called cheap, and what she had been turned into, at Midnight and Pyrrha and Salem and everyone who had ever drawn breath for daring to challenge or inconvenience her in any way.

And then his shaft slid between her spread legs and into her waiting slit, and Cinder Doll disintegrated.

It wasn’t even a contest. Passing touches had weathered her, a finger in the mouth had nearly melted her. A cock inside of her, pounding her like the plastic whore that she was? Her mind shattered into a thousand pieces, and then each piece cracked into a thousand more with each new thrust. Her anger, her fury, her rage was snuffed like a candle on a birthday cake, winking out like it never was. Her thoughts melted, her memories blanked, her personality erased itself, her emotions simmered down to pure lust, and lust alone. All that remained of Cinder Fall was swallowed by the void, and only emptiness was left in its wake. When Midnight finally came, and flooded her inner passages with his seed, there was nothing left but another mindless doll.

What happened next was a blur, if only because there was no conscious mind left to track what was going on. Midnight moved on from the doll in the middle, giving the green haired and ice-cream coloured former girls a turn as well, obliterating anything that might have been left of their minds as well for good measure – and then he started having fun. Positions were tried. Shifts were made. The doll that had been Cinder found itself being used not just as a set of fuck holes, but as a pillow, or a seat, or a stand.

At one point its painted face was smushed into the green haired doll’s head, and a familiar mantra filled its former mind. ‘Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me…’

This time the doll didn’t push away – instead it responded in kind, Cinder’s voice joining Emerald’s in perfect harmony. ‘Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me…’

It wasn’t really thinking – it was the equivalent of a rolling tire bouncing across the screen after a car crash. Noisy, perhaps, but soon it would stop, fall still, and all would be quiet once more.

It was hard to say how long the sex lasted. The doll didn’t really have a concept of time anymore – or of numbers, for that matter. But eventually, Agent Midnight seemed to tire. He stopped fucking them, and got out of bed, leaving the three to simmer in empty headed lust, desiring nothing but to be used once more, if even that.

Soon enough he returned – but not to fuck them again. Instead he picked them up, one by one, and cleaned them before carrying all three to a new room. One that had many, many love dolls, just like them, set up on display. A collection – one that they were now a part of.

Emerald and Neo were placed on stands, with rods inserted in their sex and ass to keep them up, and grips around the waist and wrists to keep them balanced. They were on full display, their larger than life breasts stuck out proudly for all to see – and until someone next felt like using them, there they would remain.

Cinder, meanwhile, had a different destiny. With a high-pitched wheeze, she was deflated, reduced to a flat plastic shell, and then folded up and boxed. A quick label on the side of the otherwise featureless cardboard container read ‘Cindy’. The lid was closed, and sealed, and then the box itself was placed into an open drawer – a drawer filled with dozens of other, identical boxes – which was then closed, itself but one of a dozen identical drawers.

Silently, in anonymous darkness, the doll… did not wait, because waiting implied expectation, or thought, of which the doll had none. It simply lay there, discarded, and would do so until someone desired the cheap fuck she now was, and randomly chose her box out of thousands just like her.

She was no longer special. She was no longer powerful. She was no longer feared.

She was just a fuck doll. And that was all she would ever be. 

Comments

No comments found for this post.