DollFace - Drones

The mansion sat on a hill. They all do. That’s why they’re called mansions. Or not. At the gate a quarter mile away a young lady pressed the buzzer and after exchanging words without whoever was at the other end of the security phone, the gates hummed and opened for her. She walked to the front door of the mansion where a man was waiting for her. With a nod he directed her to enter and closed the door behind her. A balcony hung over the foyer and a man in a velvet bathrobe watched as she entered. He made eye contact with her, he drained her image into his eyes like a man dying of thirst. He looked at the man who had let her in and nodded. The other man nodded back.

She was led to a staircase descending to a basement area. The stairs ended at a pair of doors. He touch a lanyard to a card reader and with a beep the door on the right opened into a rather large room, maybe thirty feet square.

Standing in rows, five on the left, five on the right and ten rows deep were female effigies encased in white latex. None of them had actual faces. Faint protrusions where a nose would be, shallow dips where eyes would be, barely a pair of bumps where the ears would be were as close to facial features as they came. They weren’t completely uniform in design, varying in height and with a few slight differences in build.

They had no hair though the shape of their smooth heads implied a short bob that flipped up slightly at the neck line. They were all naked and sported breasts of unnatural fullness and roundness. No nipples blemished these orbs. Just below the left breast of each drone were letters etched into the surface of their skin: FP00083, FP00005, FD00040, etc. Their waists were also a bit narrow for their build.

They stood with their arms down at their side but with their hands at least a foot away from their outer thighs. There were no orifices at their crotches. The legs were as smooth as the rest of their bodies and ended in four inch heels. Not that they were wearing shoes or footwear of any kind. Their feet were shaped like there were chunky high heeled shoes welded to their toeless feet. They stood with their feet separated the same distance as the width of their shoulders.

The woman drank in the sight before her. She stepped up to one and ran her finger along its arm, then its stomach. She had traced a circle around the drone’s breast. It was only then she realized she was alone in the room with the drones. Her escort had departed without her noticing.

She was trailing her fingers across another drone’s thigh when the drone next to this one suddenly animated and left the room. One moment it was inert. The next moment, it stepped to the central aisle of the room, turned abruptly, and walked out the door. The door to the room opened and closed automatically to allow the drone to exit unimpeded.

The symmetry of the room was off. The missing drone made the room feel off to the young woman. She looked around as if someone might be watching. Given the size of the mansion it was entirely possible, she thought, that she was on camera somewhere.

Still, the room felt wrong. She lined up with the four drones to the right of the gaping space and placed her feet where she thought the drone had been standing. She looked straight ahead and held her arms away from her legs. The stillness of the room seemed to soothe her. It no longer felt like something was missing.

She stood there motionless for five, maybe ten minutes – she wasn’t sure – when the door opened and a slightly older women entered the room. “Oh, look at you. You’re a natural.” She walked up to the non-drone and took some measurements with a tailor’s tape.

“A fine addition you’ll make. Don’t move. I’ll be right back with my kit.”

It had not occurred to the drone-to-be to respond to the woman. There really had not been anything to say. This was why she was here. This was what was supposed to happen. It was something she had craved for a long time. It was really happening.

A man entered after the other woman left. He unbuttoned the drone’s blouse and removed it along with the bra. He placed a metal ring around each of its breasts and pressed it against its flesh. The ring stuck to its chest. He opened a jar that looked like a mayonnaise jar but the unguent inside was clear. He liberally spread the goo on the drone’s body and face. When he finished covering every inch of its upper body, he took a towel and wiped it away. Every small hair on the body was wiped away by the towel.

He removing her skirt. Her panties he cut free with safety scissors. He repeated the process of applying the goop and removing it. When he was done, the drone was naked, except for the sandals it wore, and hairless aside from the hair on its scalp.

The drone-to-be thought it should feel cold but the air in the room was warm enough.

After a time the same woman from before returned. “Ah, I see Martin was here. Good. I don’t have to wait for him. I’m Annie, by the way.”

Annie set down a small TV tray and laid a kit bag of makeup on it. All the makeup was DollFace brand makeup. She started with a foundation pad, brushing white powder on the drone’s forehead, temples, and cheeks. She applied a white lip gloss to the drone’s lips and made a face to show the drone to press its lips together to even out the gloss. Soon, the face was a white hairless mask.

She took out some scissors and cut the drone’s hair, shaping it into a bob similar to bob seen on the other drones. Martin returned as she was finishing the face. She took two round coin-shaped disks, slightly larger than quarters, and placed them over the drone’s eyes. Spirit glue held them in place. She also put what looked like in-canal hearing aids into each of the drone’s ears. Finally she placed round orbs on the drone’s chest and screwed them into the metal rings.

Martin handed Annie what appeared to be strapless sandals and with a little work the two of them removed the drone’s old shoes. Martin coated the tops of the sandals with an adhesive and stood the drone up on the four inch heels.

Annie stepped back and Martin stepped forward with an airbrush gun. He adjusted the nozzle and sprayed a coat of white latex at the drone.

The drone-to-be wondered if it could stop the process at this point. Its face was frozen in place and its mouth would not move. That answered its question.

The spray was thicker than spray paint and coated the drone’s body quickly. He applied ten coats of latex, waiting about five minutes between coats. When he was done, aside from having a slightly wetter look, the new drone’s body was indistinguishable from the older drones in the room. Even the heeled sandals seemed to have always been a part of the drone. Annie, with gloves on, ensured the saturated hair was shaped like all the other drone’s hair.

Annie chatted with Martin throughout the process but the drone could not see or hear her. The drone-to-be was unaware of the number of coats of latex covering its body. After the first coat had plunged it into darkness and silence, the disks covering its eyes lit up and patterns of light floated from left to right and right to left.

The drone-to-be could not help but follow the lights. Up. Up. Down. Down. Left. Right. Left. Right. The letter B. The letter A. The word Start. It repeated over and over, sometimes flashing by faster or slower. At the same time, tones played in her ears. The tones were light and lyric or harsh and guttural and they moved in opposition to the lights causing the drone-to-be to feel like it was floating.

The sound in its ears grew louder and more insistent. As it passed from one ear to the other it seemed to grab at parts of the drone’s former mind as it passed though its head. At first the drone-in-progress was surprised that memories were disappearing. But it could not complain as the first memories were the worst memories. When the guy she liked stood her up. What was his name? What had she like him? No matter. The embarrassing time its boobs were exposed to the entire eighth grade class by a pair of boys who didn’t get in trouble for pulling the shirt off. The dates with one of those boys in in eleventh grade when the taste of cock became familiar to her.

One by one the memories were torn away until the last one. It came as a surprise after their life passed before them: emerging to the light crying, the warmth of the womb gone, being handled and placed on a warm chest, the face of someone. Who was she?

The noise abated. The drone was empty of thought. As it always should be.

Martin returned several hours later with a hot metal plate on a stick. He pressed the hot metal into the chest of the new drone, just below its enormous left breast, branding it: FP00101.

The drone was not sure when the other two had left the room. The sound and light show ended and it stood in place. Waiting.

* * *

It did not understand how the instructions were imparted to it. But, it knew it had to follow them. No other option existed. In front of its eyes a wire frame of a corridor appeared. Walls to the left and right, a ceiling and a floor. No other details existed. The drone walked forward, unaware of the door to the storage room that opened and closed at its passing. The wire frame turned into a staircase that the drone ascended before the wire frame returned to a corridor look, guiding each step the drone took. It walked unaware past a bust of a man on a table, artwork hanging on the paneled wall, doorways, openings into room the drone did not know it passed.

It passed various people who were in the corridor, they did not appear in the wire frame. Whatever was guiding the drone simply turned the corridor image left or right as the drone needed to walk around something. And it did. Without question. The drone stopped. The outline of a man, without unnecessary details appeared in place of the wire frame. An exact image of his penis and balls were there but the drone could see nothing of the man’s face, his clothes. Only his genitals were detailed. An opening appeared in the face of the drone and it knelt down in front of the man exactly as instructed. The drone took the penis into the orifice on its face and performed fellatio in the exact manner it was instructed. This method maximized the man’s pleasure and ensured he would not ejaculate until the appropriate amount of time passed.

Unknown to the drone, the man conversed casually with two other men who were also being pleasured by drones. None of the drones were aware that anyone other than one man and the drone itself were in the room. None of the drones heard any of the conversation.

After the man came, the drone ensured not a drop of cum escaped its orifice, as instructed.

Events such as these became routine. Not that the drone had a reason to care one way or another. It did as it was told. There was no other option.

Once, the drone arrived in a room with a man and words were spoken to the man from speakers in the drone’s breasts. The breasts commanded the man to lie down and the drone placed it left foot on his genitals and pressed down. Every time the man complained or begged the breasts would chastise him and the drone would apply a little more pressure, as instructed.

The drone was oblivious to what this meant. When the man stopped whimpering, the drone knelt down with its crotch over his face. Its legs pinned the man’s arms beneath them. The drone leaned forward and pleasured the man penis. The man tried to lick the smooth crotch on his face but it did not seem like the drone cared. It didn’t. His eyes stared at the heart shape of the drone’s ass as it held him firmly in place. The drone was unaware when he lost consciousness.

Instructions stopped being delivered to the drone and it remained still. There was nothing to do without instructions. Eventually it stood up and returned to the storage room. The man completely forgotten and no longer appearing in the wire frames displayed on the coins that lay across the drone’s dead eyes.

The drone was used frequently by the first man to fuck its face. At some point the drone discovered he was the owner of the mansion. Not that this produced a reaction – joy, pride, satisfaction, etc – in the drone. It was superfluous information the drone forgot almost as soon as it learned it, each time it learned it. That he was the man in the bathrobe was a fact the drone could never know as the drone was never shown the man’s face in its head’s up display.

* * *

A young woman was led into the room where she saw at least a hundred white latex drones standing neatly in rows of five on either side of an aisle that ran from the front to the back of the large room. She wanted to touch them all. She could not wait to join them. She turned to say something to the man who had escorted her to the room, but he was gone. Alone, she put her hand on the breast of one of the drones: FP00101, apparently. The latex skin was smooth and silky.

She was caressing the drone for a moment or two when without warning, FP00101 sprang to life and left the room, the door opened and closed automatically as the drone passed through it. The space it had vacated seem to draw awkward attention to itself. A drone should be standing there. The space, the gaping hole, it needed to be filled. The woman ran a finger along another drone’s arm acutely aware of why she was agitated. She made a decision.

The vacant space gnawed at her very soul. She filled the space. She lined herself up with the other drones in the line, placing her feet where she thought FP00101 had stood. She stood up straight and stared straight ahead, holding her arms away from her outer thighs, and waited.

File Folder: Internal Testimonials/Female/Pleasure Drones
File: Drone Initiation Operations
Status: Eyes Only, CEO Kenneth Yagger