Hypnosis Factory, Day One (Black's Lewd Interview - Part 2)
Black hesitates, unable to remove her underwear amid a vague sense of unease and inexplicable shame.
The factory manager gently urges her on.
"It seems you're not used to self-introductions, huh? It happens sometimes. Plenty of the magical girls we hire here were the same way at first."
"R-Really...?"
"Yeah. But they all got used to it quick enough. Since you're still not comfortable, how about I help you out?"
With that, the factory manager steps closer.
And then he starts removing Black's underwear himself.
He unhooks the bra cradling her heavy breasts, then peels off the plain panties underneath—taking it all off her.
Having someone else undress her like this is a first. At least since she hit puberty. She's flustered, but she doesn't push him away.
"Those are some seriously unappealing undies, though. Weren't you embarrassed walking around in something like this?"
"Huh...? I-Is that so...? I always buy my clothes online..."
"I just can't understand how anyone wears something like that. And if word got out we hired a magical girl who dresses like this, the whole factory would take heat for it. Be more careful."
"S-Sorry...!"
The factory manager confiscates Black's underwear and tosses it into the trash bin nearby. He flips a switch, and a loud mechanical whir starts up—it looks like the kind that grinds up waste on the spot.
It's convenient and all, but... that's my underwear...
Black feels a twinge of regret, but there's nothing she can do. True loner otakus like her can't speak up in moments like this. Besides, the factory manager is right.
"You don't have all your underwear like this, do you? These plain, boring, oversized abominations... Judging by that look, I already know. Fine, by the factory manager's authority, I order you: throw them all out when you get home."
"B-But then I won't have anything left to wear."
"Then don't wear any. That might actually preserve the factory's dignity better."
The factory manager sighs like it's the most ridiculous thing he's heard. Black feels utterly mortified.
"I'll contact the shop we have a contract with. Go buy some proper, dignified lingerie there. Most of it's custom-made, but it's free. It's part of the factory's benefits—use it gratefully."
"Ah... Thank you. Free stuff is the best..."
And so Black stands before the factory manager in her birthday suit.
Her pale skin, voluptuous breasts, and above all, that groin stirring up lust—all laid bare before him.
Now that she's ready, she begins her self-introduction.
She rattles off her age, hobbies, favorite color, usual masturbation methods, frequency, preferred habits—everything without missing a beat.
As she speaks, the factory manager approaches and starts groping her body.
Black doesn't resist. She feels an odd disconnect from the situation, but she can't pinpoint what's wrong.
"These tits... I like 'em. Like I said earlier."
"The nipples and areolae are nicely shaped and colored too. Firm yet springy—just right. With a base like this, they're worth modifying. No need to change the shape, but I'll tweak the texture for better handling. Pack 'em full of pleasure nerves, turn 'em into secondary and tertiary clits. Yeah, perfect. That'll be fun."
"Belly and waist are spot-on too... No excess flab, but not skinny either. Yep, I like it."
The factory manager's hands roam all over Black's body, toying with her relentlessly. Every touch feels like it's hitting an erogenous zone, leaving her flustered.
Was my body always this sensitive...? Why does it feel so intense...?
Moku Factory Manager rolls Black's nipples between his fingers. Then he takes them into his mouth one by one, sucking and savoring.
Ah, this feels good... So weirdly good... A shiver runs through me.
Moku praises her breasts and nipples for tasting like milk. Black thanks him for the compliment.
He mentions she'll get lactation mods later. He can't wait to see what her milk will taste like.
Lactation, huh... Milk from my boobs.
She's never been pregnant, so it's a strange thought, but if he's looking forward to it, that makes her happy. She can't wait for the lactation mods to turn her into a milky, squirting machine.
The factory manager's hand reaches her pussy. He rubs that soft, springy, delightful slit.
Earlier it was through her panties, but direct contact feels worlds apart. Of course it does.
Black's pussy gets toyed with by those thick, greasy fingers. She doesn't resist.
His thick digits rub her labial cleft, mash the fleshy lips together. Then they push into the hole, lightly stirring her depths.
She lost her virginity to those monster soldiers recently, but he can still feel traces of her hymen.
Pushing deeper, her tight vaginal walls cling to his finger like they're sucking him in—or putting on a show.
"Let's check your vaginal grip. Hey, Black—can you squeeze harder here?"
"Sq-Squeeze... Got it..."
Black isn't sure how to clench her pussy on command, but she tries her best, tensing her abs and such.
Her walls contract and release around his finger several times.
Apparently that's enough; the factory manager says it's good.
"Nice. Good grip on that pussy. Still raw, but it'll get way better with training."
Incidentally, she's already had some sensitivity enhancements, but more mods are coming.
Right now, a finger just makes her twitch oddly. Soon, one digit will have her back arching in ecstasy.
Imagining her future changes is delightful.
The factory manager scoops up her pussy juices and smears them over her clit, tormenting it relentlessly.
Hnnnggg...!
Black's jaw drops, and even lewder moans spill from her lips. Her ultimate weak spot overwhelmed, she can't hold out.
"F-Factory Manager, sir...!"
"Hey now. Self-intro time. You still have stuff to say, right?"
"I-I guess... What comes to mind is... Yeah... Like that time when I was 14..."
Running out of personal details, Black starts babbling whatever pops into her head.
School stories, her personality, even plot points from her favorite humiliation novels.
The factory manager half-listens—if at all—while zeroing in on her clit with ruthless focus.
That little nub gets squished under his greasy fingers, spun around, rubbed from root to tip.
A scream erupts from Black's throat. She can't believe the pleasure crashing over her.
"Aah, aaah, aaaahhh...!!"
No time for intros now. She shakes her head wildly, lost in the clit bliss.
She tries to squirm away, but he grabs her ass, yanking her hips forward—keeping that tormented clit trapped.
"Uuuughhh~~~~!!"
Climax.
Black cums hard from the clit stimulation alone.
But his hand doesn't stop. He stirs her pussy again, scoops more juice, slathers it on her clit, and kneads away.
The clit pleasure won't end. Electric ecstasy roasts her whole body.
Black cums repeatedly from her clit alone.
Not just that—her asshole gets fingered and inspected too. All novel experiences for her.
But she has no complaints. This is just how things are here. The normal routine. ...That's what she believes.
"Good. Hold that pose."
"Y-Yes, Factory Manager..."
Self-intro done, Black now holds position for "pussy function inspection" in front of him.
She's bent over the desk beside them, elbows propped for support, ass thrust back.
Her tightly clenched pussy twitches invitingly, as if begging to be used anytime.
The factory manager leisurely pulls out his penis—that grotesque, throbbing meat rod—and lines it up with Black's ready hole, sliding in slow.