|
Lisa had been firm with her ex: three weeks since the breakup, and she’d sealed the door on any second chances. She even said the words out loud, *If you ever come back to my house, I’ll call the cops.* That was supposed to be the end of it.
But Thursday evening, when she got home from work, there it was: a plain brown Amazon box, propped against her doormat. Not for her. Addressed to him.
At first she ignored it. Packages had been showing up for him before—they’d lived out of each other’s spaces for months, and deliveries always blurred between his name and hers. Sometimes it had been flowers, jewelry, even a drone kit once. More often than not, gifts meant for her.
Still, something about this one itched. By seven o’clock the box was still sitting there, unopened, and her mind wouldn’t let it rest. She called him. No answer. Left a message. Tried again. Silence.
Finally, she justified it: *If he wanted it, he’d pick it up. If it’s for me, then it’s mine anyway. If he asks for it back, I’ll hand it back used.* She fetched scissors and slit the tape.
Inside, a molded case gleamed like something that didn’t belong in an ordinary shipping box. The label read:
**ATOMICA CORPORATION – LIQUIDSKIN™ INFUSION DEVICE**
**Length: 21 inches**
At first, all she saw was the unmistakable outline. A phallic toy—fat, taller than a wine bottle, thicker than a Coke can, absurdly long.
Her stomach twisted. Was this something he’d ordered before they split? Or a cruel message? Either way: *It’s mine now.*
Lisa carried it into her bedroom. She tossed it onto the bed and let it sit there while she went about her routine. Music on the speaker. Hanging blouses. Sorting laundry. Rearranging her makeup counter. Each time she passed, her eyes fixed on it. *I’m really going to do that.*
By ten, she was fresh from the shower, towel around her hair, another around her body. She spread two towels across the mattress, set the toy upright near the pillows, dimmed the lights.
“Alexa, play something sexy.”
The room filled with sultry bass, and Lisa thought: *Let’s see what this silly toy is about.*
She stood at the bed’s edge, staring at it. Its girth mocked her. *That’ll never fit. And if it did—he’d be jealous.*
Defiance pushed her to climb up. She squatted over it, straddling it like she was testing an experiment. The tapered tip nudged her, parting her just slightly.
The instant it touched, something activated. A shiver raced up her spine, electric and divine. She gasped. *Oh… this is special.*
She lowered more. A rush—too much, too fast—made her stop. She toppled back onto the mattress, limbs spread, chest heaving. Not just arousal—it was as if her insides had been blessed. Every breath pulled pleasure through her like it was stitched into her lungs.
Minutes passed before she dared again. This time, no resistance. Her body seemed changed, adapted. The glossy bulk slid further, until she reached a new threshold. She stopped, astonished. Twice as far as before.
Again, she collapsed back, glowing with resonance. Breathless, she laughed. *That thing is amazing. He’s never getting it back.*
She lay staring at the ceiling. *If love had ever been like this, I’d be an addict. If sex is this powerful, what’s the difference between sex and love?*
Her eyes drifted to the towering thing on her bed. *One more time. If I can get past the hump… smooth sailing.*
She lowered herself again. That’s when she noticed her arms, her legs, her breasts—something was off. Her skin gleamed strangely under the light. Too smooth. Too flawless. Almost plastic.
*Just my imagination.*
The thought broke her focus. She slipped down too far, too fast.
*Boom.*
The shaft pressed against her heart. She could *feel* it there, her pulse hammering against it.
Bump. Bump. Bump.
Not painful—rapturous. Each beat spread bliss through her body. Then the beats faded. Disappeared.
Her arms glistened with impossible smoothness. Seamless. Shimmering faintly like opal glass.
She staggered to the mirror—and froze.
Full, plush lips. Eyes shining unnaturally. Skin like silicone, glossy and clear. She held her hand to the lamp; light passed faintly through it. Pulled it away, and it looked almost normal again.
“What happened to me?”
She bolted to the kitchen, clawed through the packaging, yanked out the folded papers. *LiquidSkin™ Infusion Protocol… Permanent Morphological Integration.*
Her throat closed. *He dollified me.*
“That f***ing bastard turned me into a sex doll.”
She stumbled back to the mirror, horror flooding her. She pulled at her breasts—they stretched like rubber, elongating grotesquely. “No no no no—”
She tugged at her cheek; her skin pulled like taffy. Stretched her eyelid down to her cheekbone. Yanked her ear; it stretched inches like elastic.
A desperate laugh escaped her. “I’m stretchy. This has to be a dream!”
But the mirror told her otherwise.
She squeezed her breasts—slime oozed out, glistening down her chest. Her eyes widened. “Oh god… that’s… hot.”
Her fear warred with a new hunger. Each distortion brought waves of heat. Her disbelief crumbled.
She sat on the bed, staring at her reflection. Glossy, opalescent, impossibly perfect. The massive device loomed behind her.
“This is real,” she whispered. “If this is happening, I might as well accept it.”
She studied the device, turning it over, pressing her nails into its flawless surface. No seams, no clues. Just perfection.
Without hesitation, she lowered herself onto it once more.
No resistance this time.
Her body took it whole, shimmering under the dim light. The transformation sealed itself. She was no longer simply Lisa. She was something else. A living fun doll—synthetic, pliable, yet still her.
She sat impaled on the 21-inch device, staring glassy-eyed into the mirror—when a sharp knock cut through the room.
Knock-knock.
Her head snapped toward the door. A pause. Then the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Familiar rhythm.
Her blood—or whatever passed for it—froze.
It was him.
Frantic, she pulled herself off, slime trailing her thighs, and stumbled across the room. She wrapped a towel around her slick body and went to the door.
She opened it.
He stood there, his expression shifting from confusion to shock. “…Lisa?”
She clutched the towel, glossy skin peeking through, lips too perfect, eyes too wide.
“What the f*** did you do to me?” Her voice cracked. “How do I undo this?”
“I didn’t do anything! I swear!”
“Don’t lie. You ordered it. You had it delivered here!”
“What are you talking about?” He shook his head—then saw the packaging in the kitchen. She shoved it at him.
“Atomica Corporation. Look.”
His face drained. “Oh, sh*t.”
“What?”
“They contacted me about sending free samples for my StreamTube channel. Product reviews. I thought it was a joke. I told them—‘yeah, whatever, make sure it’s big.’ It was supposed to be a video. You weren’t supposed to get it.”
Lisa laughed bitterly. “Well, I did.” She yanked him inside, dragging him to the bedroom. The scent of her earlier surrender lingered.
She pointed at the device. “Look at what you did to me.”
Then she paused, lips curving into something unreadable. “No… let me rephrase. Do you want to see something really cool?”
He hesitated. “Uh… sure.”
His eyes fell to the Atomica paperwork. He picked up the manual, scanning quickly. His face went pale.
“Lisa…” His voice shook. “It says it’s irreversible. You can’t undo it.”
Her chest rose and fell, skin stretching seamless with each breath.
He flipped another page. “Wait. You can *stop* the process.” He dug into the box and pulled out a slim vial of shimmering liquid.
“This. You’re supposed to drink this when you want it to stop. But you need to do it *now.*”
She stared at the vial, then back at him. Calm washed over her.
“Okay,” she whispered. “But first…”
Her hand brushed the towel at her chest, lips curving into an impossible, glossy smile.
“Let me show you.”
| 
