Her new owner.

A shimmering pink ribbon materialized around Barbie's neck, its satiny texture stark against her plastic skin. A tiny golden tag dangled from it, engraved with neat cursive: "To Joe, Love Beth." The doll remained motionless, splayed on the floor, until the sound of footsteps approached the room. The door creaked open, revealing Joe Gilmore, Lisa's older brother, peering inside with a frown. "Lisa? You in here? Mom wants to know if you..." His voice trailed off as he spotted the bizarre figure on the floor.

Instantly, Barbie's stiff limbs whirred with a series of plastic clicks. She sat bolt upright with impossible, jerky grace, her vacant blue eyes fixing on Joe. A wide, glossy smile stretched across her face. "Hello, Master Joe!" her tiny voice box chirped, unnaturally bright. "Did you wanna play with Barbie?" Her plastic gaze drifted downward, locking onto the noticeable bulge tenting his sweatpants. "Uh oh!" she exclaimed, the pitch rising like a cartoon character's. "Looks like Master Joe is feeling pent up! Let's fix that!" The cheerful announcement echoed hollowly in the quiet room.

Joe froze, his face flushing crimson. He stammered, "Look, uh, Barbie, or whoever you are... I was busy looking for someone. Have you seen Lisa, my sister, around? She looks like the complete opposite of... whatever you are. I need her help with something..." He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding the doll's unnerving, empty stare. Barbie tilted her head at a sharp, doll-like angle, processing his words. "Barbie doesn't understand the question," she replied, her voice devoid of inflection. Her plastic hands, surprisingly deft, were already tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants. "Would you like Barbie to get back to playing with you?" she chirped, pulling them down around his thighs before he could react.

Joe's eyes darted around the empty room, his mind racing. Lisa was nowhere to be seen, and this... thing... was offering. He was a virgin, utterly unprepared. "Well," he coughed, his voice tight with awkwardness, "if you're uh... offering..." He didn't resist as her cool, smooth fingers closed around his hardening cock. Barbie's movements were efficient, mechanical pumps, her glossy smile fixed in place, her vacant eyes reflecting nothing but the overhead light as she diligently attended to her new master's 'pent up' state, the pink ribbon around her neck a cruel declaration of ownership.

Joe's breath hitched as Barbie's plastic legs wrapped around his waist with surprising strength, pulling him deeper into her synthetic embrace. Her hollow interior molded around him with uncanny realism, the frictionless glide of her inner walls somehow generating heat where there should have been none. Each thrust produced a wet, squelching noise that defied logic—she had no fluids, no biology, yet the sounds of their coupling filled the room with vulgar authenticity.

Barbie's head lolled back, her blonde hair splayed across the floor like golden wires as her voice box cycled through the same breathy moan on repeat—"Ohhh! Ohhh! Ohhh!"—each iteration identical in pitch and cadence, a perfect recording played over and over with mechanical precision. Her glossy lips remained parted in that same vacant smile, her glassy blue eyes reflecting the ceiling light without a flicker of awareness.

Joe panted, his hands gripping her smooth, molded hips as he bottomed out inside her again and again. The sensation was surreal—her body had no give, no pulse, yet the way she clenched around him felt engineered for pleasure, as if every ridge and contour inside her had been designed to milk him dry.

"Master Joe feels sooo good!" she chirped between moans, her voice still sickeningly sweet, still devoid of any real emotion. Her fingers trailed up his chest, the tips leaving faint pink marks on his skin—not from passion, but from the unyielding hardness of her plastic nails.

He didn't question it. Couldn't. The heat coiling in his gut drowned out rational thought, and the way her body moved, the way it responded, was too convincing to resist. His thrusts grew erratic, his hips stuttering as the pressure built.

Barbie's looping moans hitched—just once—as if sensing his impending release. "Ohhh! Ohhh! Cum for Barbie, Master Joe!" she trilled, her voice box crackling slightly with the **** of the command.

He groaned, his fingers digging into her plastic thighs as he buried himself one last time. His orgasm crashed over him in waves, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside her—a sensation that should have been impossible, given her hollow form. Yet somehow, she took it, her synthetic walls pulsing in a mockery of muscle contractions, milking him until he was spent.

Joe slumped back, gasping, his body slick with sweat. Inside Barbie, his release pooled—a biological impossibility that somehow felt absorbed, assimilated. Her plastic skin seemed to shimmer faintly, the texture softening infinitesimally, gaining a dewy sheen that hadn't been there before. Her movements, previously rigidly mechanical, now possessed a subtle, almost imperceptible fluidity as she disentangled her legs from his waist. But her eyes—those wide, glassy blue orbs—remained utterly vacant, reflecting the room without a flicker of sentience.

A giggle, high-pitched and unnervingly artificial, bubbled from her voice box. "Master Joe enjoyed Barbie!" she chirped, her fixed smile stretching impossibly wider for a fraction of a second. With surprising strength in her smooth, molded limbs, she pushed firmly against his chest, forcing him onto his back before he could react. Before he could even process the movement, she was straddling his thighs, her unnaturally large, perfectly spherical breasts swaying slightly. Her cool, plastic hands cupped them, pressing the yielding, silicone-like mounds together around his rapidly re-hardening cock. The sensation was startlingly effective—smooth, cool pressure combined with a practiced, milking rhythm that began almost immediately, her thumbs expertly working the sensitive underside of his shaft.

"Barbie makes Master Joe feel good again!" she announced, her voice saccharine and devoid of inflection. Her head tilted, the blonde hair cascading over her shoulders as she focused intently on her task. The rhythmic squeezing and release, the cool slickness of her synthetic skin against his heated flesh, was overwhelming. Joe groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily against the unyielding pressure. He couldn't look away from her face, from those beautiful, empty eyes fixed unblinkingly on his cock as she worked him. The pressure built with terrifying speed, a white-hot coil tightening in his groin far quicker than before, spurred by her unnatural skill.

He barely managed a choked gasp before he erupted, thick ropes of cum splattering across her smooth, tanned cheek, her chin, and the curve of her plastic smile. She didn't flinch. One of her glass eyes rotated slowly in its socket, a perfect, unnerving doll wink, while the other remained fixed forward. "MMMH!" her voice box crackled, the moan similar to the ones before. A bead of his release slid down her chin. "Does Master Joe need anything else?" she asked, tilting her head again, the pink ribbon around her neck stark against her flawless skin. "Barbie exists to please Master Joe." The words were a flat statement, devoid of genuine flirtation, yet carrying the chilling implication of endless, soulless service.