Sexdoll

As Frank hammered nails into your wooden prison, he suddenly paused.

You heard him chuckle.

“Hey, George!”

Another hammer strike.

“This thing says SEX DOLL on it!”

The two men burst into loud laughter outside the crate.

Your stomach dropped.

Panic surged through you as you strained helplessly against the cramped wooden walls. The crate barely moved beneath your weight.

BANG.

Frank slammed another nail into the lid above your head, making you flinch violently. In your panic, your mouth accidentally aligned with the small knot hole you had been peeking through moments earlier.

“All right! Done!” Frank shouted.

A forklift engine rumbled somewhere nearby, growing louder by the second.

For one desperate moment, you considered yelling for help.

But shame froze your throat shut.

A heavy impact struck the side of the crate as the forklift slid its forks underneath you. Then came a sudden jolt that made your stomach lurch as the crate lifted into the air.

“Hold up,” Frank called out suddenly. “There’s a hole in this one.”

You froze.

Two grimy, oil-stained fingers slowly pushed through the knot hole.

You held your breath.

The fingers explored blindly through the opening while you tried desperately not to make a sound, your entire body trembling inside the crate.

“It’s warm in there,” Frank muttered outside.

A short silence followed.

“Huh… must be some new model or something.”

Then suddenly Frank shouted:

“Hey George! Take a break!”