Sylvia walked out of the toy store with a frustrated frown. Her friend, Clay, already had all the female action figures she'd been able to find, and this was the fifth mall she'd tried. Marvel, DC, anime, video games, obscure TV show tie-ins; if it existed and had action figures to go with it, chances were he had it. He even had a small display of gifts others had given him which he used to illustrate the difference between dolls and action figures.

"Excuse me, is something the matter?" asked a voice. Sylvia turned to the left and found a man who looked like an old screenshot of Pat Sajak from an early episode of Wheel of Fortune, standing in the entrance of a store whose plastic banner proclaimed it "The Dolly Shoppe."

"I don't suppose you carry female action figures, do you?" she asked, approaching the man, but stopping just outside of what she guessed was arm's reach. From this range, she could see the name tag with his picture on it and the words "Bob: Manager."

"Actually, we specialize in full-custom gifts." Bob said with a smile. "Would you like to be an action figure?"

"How much?" Sylvia asked.

"As much as you're willing to pay." Bob said. "We have very flexible options--and all our toys are fully-articulated. Our most advanced models are technically robots--fully interactive with well-programmed AI--but even our basic models are head-and-shoulders above what you can get at, say, KayBee."

"What comes with the basic model?" Sylvia asked. Bob gestured for her to follow him, and he showed her into the store. Several life-sized displays stood smiling in various places around the showroom, but the other room was devoted to computer equipment. On the other side of a partition were ten metal cyllinders and a changing curtain.

"For the 'basic model, ' we run you through the SCAN chamber and make a doll--or action figure--of you with one outfit and one accessory." Bob said. "We don't add a personality or anything with a basic package, but even with just an outfit and an accessory, there's plenty to choose from, and all our products are guaranteed never to wear out."

"How much?" Sylvia asked. Bob rattled off a three-figure number that dropped her jaw. "How can you do it?" she asked.

"Our raw materials are surprisingly inexpensive." Bob responded. "Would you like to see some of the choices? If you do it today, we can deliver by Christmas."

"Sure." Sylvia said, glad she wouldn't have to break the bank for this. In fact, she'd still be able to make her car payment if she didn't splurge on everyone else's presents. The selection of outfits was impressive, of course. She ended up choosing a black bustier with blue trim, black pants, a blue belt and blue boots. For her accessory, she decided a simple bullwhip would suffice. After that was a form asking for basic information on the recipient and her payment information.

"Okay, just take your clothes off behind the screen and wrap yourself in the provided towel." Bob said once that was done. Sylvia checked for cameras before she did as she was told. The room was rather cold--probably to keep the computer from overheating, she guessed. Her nipples stood proudly out from her breasts as she slid out of her clothes and left them folded on the bench.

"Okay, now what?" Sylvia asked, peering out from behind the screen as she held the towel close against her body. Bob tapped a few keys on the keyboard, and Chamber 1 opened with a soft, mechanical hum. Sylvia admitted to herself she'd been expecting a hiss, like a freeze chamber from the movies.

"Just leave the towel on the floor next to the chamber." Bob said. "We can't have it getting in the way of the SCAN process."

"Uh, right." Sylvia responded, stepping in and dropping the towel to the floor. Luckily, the door hid her body from view. As it closed, a wild notion occurred to her--what if he loaded the scan of her body into some program like Poser and made computer porn with it? She closed her eyes and tried to calm down.

Outside, Bob--or so he liked people to think he was called--loaded the chambers' operating program. The words "SYNAPTIC COMPUTERIZATION AND NULLIFICATION" appeared on the screen while everything loaded. He checked Chamber 1 on the list and the "Basic Package" button.

Inside the chamber, a light appeared. Sylvia looked up at it. Beams fired into her eyes. She was briefly able to be alarmed before the beams began to take effect. Her alarm faded away like an uninteresting dream.

What ... what is ... going ... on? she wondered, as her thoughts slowed and finally stopped. The next to go were her memories, tumbling away like leaves from the bed of a pickup on the highway. Her mouth hung open as she continued to stare helplessly into the beams. Her will was overwritten with obedience, the place where her memories and personality had been replaced with sexual programming. She was a toy. Her purpose was to be played with by her owner. Any game her owner wanted her to play, she must be prepared to play. As the beams burned this and other things into what had been her mind, needles began injecting tiny robots called nanites into her veins. All hair follicles below her neck died and fell out while her flesh was reconfigured, every imperfection smoothing itself out, her frail, human form being converted into techno-organic perfection. Her breasts rose as subdermal support structures eliminated all sag. Her lips reconfigured for optimum performance of oral sex. Her now-hairless vagina moistened as her new mind was completed. The chamber opened.

"Come out." Bob commanded. The toy obeyed. Bob came around the chamber door with her new outfit in hand. He fastened it on himself, issuing commands where necessary. When the whip was affixed to her belt, he led her to another room, where a plastic-over-wood frame was waiting. A computer-generated image of her in an aggressive pose, whip in hand, was printed on a shell of cardboard with a clear plastic front panel while Bob fastened her arms and legs in place with metal-over-plastic twist-ties. The shell was folded and glued and laid on the floor behind the frame, which Bob gently tilted backward on a special armature until he could slide it into the package. He patted the package once it was closed and taped. "Clay is a very lucky boy. You're going to make the perfect gift." The giant action-figure package was lifted by machine onto a large sheet of Christmas wrapping paper and wrapped with mechanical precision, with a beautifully-calligraphed nametag near the top. This was placed in a shipping crate with Clay's name and address on it. Nodding with satisfaction, Bob returned to the dressing room and rifled through Sylvia's purse until he found her checkbook and credit cards.