She carries a clipboard with her. It seems… mockingly mundane for a supposed fairy queen. Her equally mundane pencil taps against the metal clip as she makes marks on a data sheet. The sharp clacking of her shoes against the tile floor gets closer to you every second. Just a moment after she passes by your position, she tilts her head back and lets out a fat, theatrical sigh.
“Tsk, tsk,” she says- not clicking her tongue, but actually saying “tsk”. “Once again, my collection of magical dolls is overstocked by… a lot, actually.” Behind the tinted lenses of your mask, you watch the papers on her clipboard flip rapidly. Your arms are getting tired, but sheer terror keeps them held in position.
“Looks like I’ll have to sell off the excess. BOYS!” Wait, what?
Dozens of skittering noises pass by you as a team of one dozen gnomes marches up to the fairy queen. There’s little else to call them- they’re about 30 CM tall, wear pointy red hats, and bear enormous gray beards. You know, gnomes.
“Brownie Squad, you’re up. Pick out about, say, four of the least interesting dolls and move them to the sales floor. Mark them as… hmm, 20% below average. We keep the best and let someone else deal with the rest. Why don’t we start with...
Her finger jabs you right on the sternum. “This duplicate doll right here.”
You aren’t foolish enough to make a run for it while the queen is a mere pace away from you- a conviction you immediately regret when one dozen tiny ropes lash around you, tilting you over like a decommissioned statue. She is thankfully turned around and out of earshot the moment you hit the floor, because your charade ends the moment your doll mask slams into the tiles. You nearly bite your gag in half from the sheer shock of impact, not for lack of trying. Immediately you attempt to push yourself back up to your knees, only for the surprisingly tough ropes to pull you down flat.
“SHTUUF EFF,” you mumble through a six-inch-long obstruction, “EMM NNHT FRR SHLL!” Whether or not the gnomes can hear you- or if the dolls here regularly scream and resist every time they’re handled- they don’t seem to care very much. Within mere seconds you find the team stripping off your maid outfit, leaving you as a blank-bodied doll once more. The padding of your fake breasts is the only thing keeping your contact with the floor from being excessively painful. Soon after, you’re hog-tied and being carried off like a hunting trophy.
“RRGH… MMF!” You wobble in place, but there’s not much else you can do at the moment. There’s a spark of hope in your gut as the ropes loosen, but the spark extinguishes the moment the gnomes wordlessly toss you into a curiously soft plastic hammock of sorts. Looking from side to side with your limited tunnel vision gives you a better picture; you’ve fallen into the feed hopper of some sort of industrial machine! “HHGGF,” you grunt as you try to stand upright and escape, but the clingy plastic sheet folds your arms and legs straight down as it sags from your weight.
The warning buzzer of a machine starting up causes you to double your struggles, but it’s a bit late. Shimmering in the fluorescent light, a second sheet of stretchy plastic wrap descends onto your face! Motors begin to spin as you are wrapped tightly in a protective mint-condition seal!
“MPH-glk.” The slight increase of pressure slams the gag into the back of your throat, and it takes all your will to not retch. Looks like you won’t be calling for help until you’re at least partially freed from… whatever they’re doing to you. A cutting tool frees your nose from the plastic, then a robotic finger presses that nose.
“How may I serve you, sir?”
You… didn’t say that. The mask has a speech chip in it, of COURSE it would. Like a mummy in a post-industrial toy factory, your bound form is unceremoniously slid down a chute into a waiting half-assembled display box. Three heavy-duty zip ties immediately bind around your ankles, waist and forehead, preventing you from even thrashing around with what meagre mobility you had left.
A single piece of tape closes the box around you, and the gnomes drag you out to the life-size doll display at the other side of the magic costume shop. All you have left to do now is wait… but who will be the one to rescue you?