Stepping from the shower in the dressing room, Amy toweled herself off and blow dried her hair. All dry, she looked in her bag to see what to wear. She always brought an assortment of outfits because she didn't know what mood she'd be in by the night. She was still in a good mood--the day had gone well at work--so she pulled out her silver bikini. It covered all the important parts, but was so flimsy it would come off with a harsh word. She slipped it on and admired herself in front of the mirror. It looked great, but after a thought, she decided even that was too much, and slipped it off.
"Looks good to me..." she said aloud to nobody, and went to the table to apply some makeup. Feeling playful, she went for the whole Betty Boop look; big thick eyelashes, candy red lipstick, and two big circles of rouge on the cheeks. Happy with the look, she stood up, went to the mantle by the door and picked up the collar.
It was form-fitted to her neck, so there was never any danger of putting it on wrong. as the contacts met her smooth neck, she felt the gentle vibration that indicated it was working properly. She closed it with a snap, and she was all ready. She walked over to the wall where a large computer panel stood. She typed her name and member ID in, and was greeted with a welcome screen.
"Welcome, Miss Marie" the display read. Please select scenario for this evening." She tabbed through the selections: public performance, private session, domination-top, domination-bottom...on down the list, including a few new ones at the bottom, scenarios people had typed in and were looking for partners. She was feeling very adventurous tonight, so the scrolled down to "system select" She'd let them decide what she'd do tonight, based on what people were looking for.
Under "pain level" she keyed in the lowest setting, and selected "observe live" under "self-control level". All finished, she transmitted the selections.
"Selection complete...prepare for processing" returned the screen, and she stepped onto a small platform, backing into the wall. The collar met two small contacts on the wall with a click, and she waited.
"processing in 5...4...3...2...1"
Amy's mind was filled with a rush of color and electricity. She always imagined it was what being transported must feel like on Star Trek. Her body locked at attention, her mouth drew to a thin slit, and her eyes squinted shut. This rush alone was enough to give her an orgasm, but as usual, the processing was so quick she couldn't tell if she actually had it, or just imagined it...
In a flash it was over. Her eyes popped open, her body relaxed into a neutral standing position, and her face fell slack and emotionless. She stepped away from the wall and door opposite her slid open. As if in a trance, she walked stiffly from the room, only her legs moving. The halls were filled with people like her, walking to and from their assigned places. Some walked with arms outstretch like sleepwalkers, some shuffled along like robots, their feet sliding along the floor as if on wheels. All wore the same blank look as Amy, except for one young man being led by a woman in a gray pantsuit. They followed behind Amy as they toured, the man admiring Amy's round bottom as it swayed to and fro in her trancelike gait.
"Once the members log in and are processed, the control collars take over their voluntary muscle system. The system matches them up with a partner and guides them to a room." The woman explained
"And all action is controlled by your system?" The man was obviously aroused, but was making a good show at hiding it, walking with his informational brochure in front of him, holding it with both hands.
"If that's what they've selected, yes. They can be made to act out a pre-programmed fantasy session, or be set to obey the commands of their partner, or a third person-some of our members simply like to dictate the action and observe."
"Amazing. And do you remember anything when you wake up?"
"Again, that depends on you. many of our customers enjoy not remembering, then watching themselves on tape."
"Interesting. Okay, where do we sign up?"
"Right this way, sir." Said the woman, and as they turned into a large room. Amy reached her destination as well and turned into a bedroom.
She awoke with a blink and a sharp inhale. "Hm, that didn't seem long," she thought to herself. "I wonder if I..." she stopped herself as she moved her head to look around. Her head moved stiffly, a few degrees at a time. She lifted her hand; it too rose stiffly, like a clockwork doll.
"I'm a robot...but I can move..." Amy was confused. She was still obviously under the system's control, but she was able to move herself. She spoke aloud to the unseen technician she assumed was monitoring her session. "Ex.cuse.me." Her voice was the clipped monotone of a robot "There.is.a.prob.lem..."
The door opened and a man stepped in, obviously under remote control. His blank face revealed that, but Amy's attention was drawn away by the rest of him. He was naked and completely hairless, down to the lack of eyebrows. His skin was smooth and flawless, and had a plastic sheen, and a regular pale color. His member was erect, and was perfectly smooth, like a plastic vibrator. His testicles were almost nonexistent, just a smallish half sphere at the base of the smooth member. He was a featureless blank, a...
"A toyboy" Amy thought amazed. He'd heard about this option, but had never been with anyone who selected it. This man had selected to be totally encased in flexible plastic, a flawless ken doll love toy. It was an amazing site, and she didn't know quite what to think.
The collar at her neck came to life again, and suddenly she knew exactly what to think. She was almost overcome with desire. This plastic toy was hers to use as she saw fit, and all she wanted to do was ride him and use him and pleasure herself...what a rush.
She walked stiffly towards him, and stroked his smooth member with a firm hand. She whispered into his ear. "Ac.ti.vate." His collar sent the requisite commands, and he inhaled sharply and turned his head towards her. While her moves were jerky and mechanical, his were slow and smooth. The smoothness of his motion combined with the plastic flawlessness of his flesh made him look almost computer generated. Amy began to moisten as she stood there.
"I am your dollboy." His voice even sounded plastic-smooth and regular, without inflection. Amy found it very arousing. She'd not had a man to dominate in quite a while, and she had no idea how much she missed it. "How may I please you?"
"I.wish.to.ex.plore.you.first." He looked forward again, and flowed into a standard slave inspection posture. His arms rose and he linked his hands behind his head, elbows pointing outward at the 10-and-2 positions. He stood with his feet apart and bent slightly at the knees. He was now totally open and available for examination. Amy stepped in and began to check him over. She stroked his smooth chest; it was smooth and dry, well defined but still lacking all the detail of a normal chest. No nipples...she stroked the firm smooth pectorals. His stomach was washboard firm, but no navel. She kissed his all over his smooth torso.
She lowered to her knees and began to play with his dildo-like member. It too was smooth, tapering to a blunt point at the head, a small slit at the tip. She stroked the underside of the shaft with the back of her finger, and a drop of clear fluid appeared from the tip. The snaked out her tongue and snatched it away. The thick drop tasted sweet and syrupy, and she shivered with delight. She cupped the round ball sack in her hand; it was warm to the touch, and felt smooth and firm. She opened her mouth and stiffly lowered it onto the shaft. She took as much of it as she could, and began to suck it. Up and down her head bobbed, smoothly and precisely, like the swing of a pendulum. Small moans of pleasure escaped from her throat as she bobbed, little "Mm"'s of pleasure that made his cock vibrate with the sound.
She pulled away and sat on her heels. He had not moved, nor did she want him to. He was really into this, she thought. Well, time to watch him do his stuff...
"Mas.tur.bate."
"Yes mistress" His hand lowered to the slick rod and began to slide up and down smoothly. His fingers flew across the shaft. His face was as emotionless as before, he didn't know or care what he was doing, or he was doing to her. The head grew shiny as more pre-cum oozed from the tip..
"Stop" she commanded, and he froze mid-stroke. She removed his hand and placed it at his side again. She couldn't wait any more. She rose and walked mechanically over to the bed. She lay down, legs still over the side. She opened her legs wide, and said "Come.here.doll.boy."
He stood up and walked over to the bed. He was between her legs, so close... She took him in her hand and asked, "What.is.this.doll.boy?"
"That is my penis mistress."
"This.is.your.dol.ly.cock."
"Yes mistress. This is my dolly cock."
She smiled. "What.do.you.want.to.do.with.it?"
He stood still. "I want to pleasure you. I want to use my dolly cock to make my mistress cum."
She let go of him and leaned back, fingering her red sex. "Do.so."
He lowered to his knees and slid into her wet sex effortlessly. The sensation was exquisite. He was hard as steel, smooth as quicksilver and he made her quiver. His member was thick, and as it pushed its way in, the clenching walls of her sex were pushed back, and the resistance almost drove her mad. He had not even begun to move. He simply slid in, pubic to pubic, the round ball sack pressing against her bottom. She was in heaven. the pressure, the position...she humped her hips against him, not even able to ride him, just enough to make everything twitch inside her. It was enough...it was MORE than enough. But she wanted more...
"Fuck.me.doll.boy" She almost couldn't form the words...
"Yes mistress" He pulled out half way, slid back in, and repeated the process. It sounded, and seemed, so simple and easy from his angle. But from hers... She was on fire-her crotch was twitching, her hips bucking, her arms jittering up and down spastically, like a wind-up doll gone berserk. Her head swung left and right, biting off syllables even more clipped than before."
"O...yes...in....and.out...do...me...o....godddd...." His motion was smooth and slow, like a sybian machine, in and out, the perfect measured strokes seeming all that more erotic when coupled with the passionless stare on his face. She couldn't take it any more...."Cum...in...mmmmeeeee..."
He blinked once, thrust his hips forward, and she could actually feel his cock throb as it fired into her. So heightened was her sensitivity, she actually felt the syrup splatter inside her. She screamed, and shook her legs in the air helplessly, and after an eternity, the passion subsided. She couldn't move. She lay there helplessly.
He pulled out, rose, and stood still. After a moment, Amy blinked and her face went as blank as his. She rose stiffly, the door opened, and the pair walked out, their task done. They turned in opposite directions as they left, without so much as a kiss or a goodbye.
Amy woke up again with the usual start and looked around. She was seated in an office, a woman in a smart gray suit seated behind a glass-topped desk.
"Good evening, Miss Marie." the woman began. "I'm Emma Nymton from customer services."
"Oh, uh, hi..." Amy was a bit confused; she'd expected to wake up in the changing room. "Is everything okay? Is there a problem?"
"No, not at all, in fact I'm surprised you didn't think there was a problem during your session."
Amy blushed. "Well, I did at first, but it seemed to...work out."
The woman smiled. "Indeed it did. We were actually testing you, to see how you'd think on your feet."
"What do you mean, 'testing me'?" Amy looked confused, going on annoyed. "Is there something going on here?"
"Well, yes, in a way. We know you're a regular customer here, and your tastes are quite varied and open. We wanted to see how you'd react in a new situation, and I must admit we were quite impressed."
"Would you please explain what you mean?" She was starting to get upset.
"Well, to put it bluntly, we'd like to offer you a position here as a Hostess."
"A Hostess?" Confusion stepped forward again. "What's that?"
"Well, we serve a very varied clientele, and in the occasional case that we can't find a customer that matches the needs and desires of another, one of our employees steps in to provide. Hence, our hostesses."
Amy listened quietly as the woman continued. "I've been authorized to offer you a full refund of your latest membership payment, a salary of..."
Amy's ears fuzzed out at the number...it was ten times that of the membership fee, and three times what she was making as a dancer.
The woman glanced at a monitor that beeped at her. "...and a ten percent commission on any memberships you are instrumental in signing, the first of which I'm happy to say you've just made tonight."
"Huh?" Amy was still thinking about that number. She'd never been offered that much money before...she'd never had a chance to pronounce a number that large before...
"The gentleman you were with this evening." She smiled. "After he woke up, he signed on to a five-year membership."
"And I?" Wow, that was the most backhanded compliment she'd ever received. She was good enough to pay for. She decided she was flattered.
"Just made your first commission. Congratulations." She stood and reached across to shake Amy's hand. She stopped and pulled back, a questioning look on her face. "That is...if you're interested?"
"Heck, YEAH!" She smiled and rose to take her hand. Only then did she realize she was still naked. Well, too late to be modest now. "What happens next?"
"A few papers to sign, and if you like, some surgery to schedule." Amy looked surprised. The woman pulled her hand away and turned around. "As an employee, you have the option of having interface electrodes implanted under the skin, so you won't need to wear the collar any more." She pulled her hair aside and revealed two silver studs at the base of the neck. "Totally optional, no charge."
Amy fingered her collar. She actually dropped quite a few dollars for a custom-fit model, but even it itched occasionally.
"If that's everything...would you like to have the honor of signing your first account?"
Amy smiled her tiny crooked smile. "Really?"
"Well, it's not quite standard procedure, but we've never had anyone make a commission before they've even signed up, so what the heck?" She laughed and printed out a sheaf of forms. "Go get washed up. I'll get everything ready. He won't be ready for a few minutes yet anyway. He's watching the show."
Amy smiled. He was probably rubbing himself raw, watching the two of them go at it. She went back to her room, showered and changed, and when she came out, Emma was waiting.
As they walked to the gentleman's room, she said to Amy, "Oh, you might want think up a name for yourself. We all take stage names, for privacy purposes. You might have guessed 'Emma Nymton' isn't my real name."
"I wondered..." Amy giggled. They walked down the hall, passing a multitude of customers as they sleepwalked to and from their rooms. It was the first time Amy had seen it since she took that first tour herself-it was still an arousing site.
"Here we are," Said Emma. "Just get his name here, and that's it. No problem. Oh, and..." she winked "You're allowed to accept tips."
She giggled again and took the forms. She pressed the plate and the door slid open. He had his back to the door, and was toweling himself off. He turned and dropped the towel in surprise. He was then further surprised when he realized exactly who had walked in. He had a look like he'd been caught with a copy of Playboy...by the centerfold. He leaned down for the towel, stood up quickly, stepped on the corner of the towel so it was pulled from his hand, bent down for it again, changed his mind, stood up, backed up to get behind the bed, and stood there, trying to assume a neutral posture.
Amy was able to maintain a straight face for about a second and a half. He saw it coming, and soon they were both laughing madly. They calmed down in a moment or two, and Amy tried to get the transaction back on track.
"Hi, um, I'm here to get your signature..."
*sniff* He wiped a tear of laughter from his eye with the towel, which he had finally managed to recover. "Okay, of course. sorry for that whole Hugh Grant bit there..."
"No, I thought it was charming. I'm glad you had fun."
"Fun!" he blurted, causing an abnormally high loop in his signature. "I can't believe you could have that much fun."
"Well, I'm sure you'll have more here." She took the forms and turned to leave.
"Wait, uh..." he hesitated. "I, well...I don't even know your name."
She thought for a moment.
"Call me Toni."