Pokitry

Eric and Mell heard a humming sound further down, the unmistakable sound of manufacturing line's still going ahead in spite of company collapse.

"You'd think the employees would realize no ones paying their wages now that they'd just quit already?" Mell said, looking behind them at the giant length of corridor they had just brisked through.

"This isn't a normal company Mell." Eric replied to his younger partner, trying to subtly hint he was not here to answer all of his questions until he was distracted by another noise, a speaking voice. High pitched, female, intermixed with a constant trickle of giggles, rather annoying to both of them. It was like music being played in a sports hall, everything had an insane amount of echo that it warped what was being said.

When throwing a final apprehensive turn right, they met silver doors with patterned arrowed black and yellow markings, indicating inwards to enter the manufacturing floor. Large port holes below a flashing red light just higher than the doorframe could have signified many different problems the agents were unaware of.

"Fire alarm?" Mell guessed.

"Please, the last thing these people are concerned with is health and safety." Eric tutted at his rookie partners presumptuous claim but paused swiftly after, feeling the loud vibrations of that annoying giggling voice rippling from inside. It felt as though they were about to enter a nightclub, the ported holes offered but a brief glimpse to the sheer insanity waiting, manufacturing processing clearly not slowed by threat of government interference.

"Have your gun drawn, I'm not seeing an ounce of compliance from anyone here. I want all this shit turned off as fast as possible." Eric instructed his partner while pressing his hand against one of the doors, confused as to what way the door would even open, lacking any handles or indicators.

When pushing hard enough the door released to a wide flood of noise filled with one girls annoying muffled voice speaking. Inside was beyond what any of them had imagined to find.

Hundreds seemingly of nude women held under the arms locked on moving conveyer lines suspending them high and low off the ground. All drifting along at a comfortable 2mph, slow enough for the two agents to get a good look at all the ludicrously disturbed amount of fine detail in their soft white skin?

At least that's what it looked like to the two guys on the ground, stunned at the level of realism in each and every single one, all the way down to each fine pore. All appeared to be identical, save from some slight variations in hair, light brunette curls, almost reaching a bronze or polished wood appearance, gently sat on the tiny shoulders bound to their mechanical harnesses.

The conveyers were passing through a series of small white hubs feeding and connecting to different entries and exit points. Even with the ridiculously large hanger sized space and three prominent levels of conveyers, the room looked to almost be at max capacity. The scope of this strange operation had just been put into a much larger perspective for the FBI.

But besides their slight cosmetic alterations most were uniform in body and makeup. An admittedly pretty lady approximately 5 to 5.2 inches tall; if she were standing, dangling motionless. A very petite build, crafted with each one bordering on a body type you could almost pass as athletic. Though her thighs, too soft and hips wide, possessing a rear that came close to shapely perfectionism for the male gaze for her to be just fit.

Rather she was thick in all the right areas, besides her small breasts, that were pleasant more so for their proportional size on her short frame. Small judderers in the conveyers rack did well to expose the malleable bouncyness the synthetic bodies shared, their boobs and ass especially had an eerily realistic movement quality to them. Though offset by the neutral expression staring coldly ahead, devoid of any emotion to indicate to the guys on the ground that they should feel any kind of emotion towards them.

While Mell was locked into a staring contest with each of the units passing by, Eric had peered upwards to a television mounted on the white wall. The crashing amount of distractingly loud noise was unmistakably coming from multiple tv's throughout the hanger, all displaying the same feed of a girl that was identical to the units mounted on the conveyors. She was clothed, sat cross-legged in a sizable gaming chair and seemed to be making casual converstion to her cam while a steady flow of text trickled in from the right side of her.

It did not appear to be live footage, a time stamp was ticking away below, 18 hours 36 minutes this thing had been left running for, with well over a hundred hours left to get through. Eric had short glances between the tv and the factory machine rotating round, it became pretty clear this was some sort of celebrity that was in high demand to be replicated and maybe this footage was helping these machines in some way.

When Eric looked back over to his partner he had moved extremely close to the lowest conveyor holding his hand out in front to trace the soft belly of one that passed by. "Mell! No touching!" Eric shouted.

"I think i recognise her! I've seen my younger brother watch her! She's like one of those...."

"I don't give a shit where you've seen her! Back the fuck away rookie!" Eric shouted, strutting back towards his partner, heading for a printed layout of the floor's facilities mounted beside the doors they entered through.

Agent Mell stepped away from the conveyor only shorty until Eric's back was turned to him. While he looked at where they were on the map agent Mell started with just small glances over his shoulder, progressively growing longer and longer. Ignoring his curiosity for a little while then he shifted to standing side on, swapping between his partners back and a row of sculpted asses passing by.

Again, his gazes grew longer and longer as he etched himself over the conveyor. 'Just one more touch' he said to himself, stepping back into reaching distance of a slow moving line of thighs and ass. He held still while they glided through his fingertips, so odd being exactly the same and strangely warm like genuine people. He squeezed harder round those shapely rears as they past, getting braver with each one so warm in his hand until...