Even though she was a rookie on the beat, the assignment was a strange one.

“They’re going to be leveling the old toy manufacturing plant next week,” the gruff old editor instructed her over text. “It was an important employer for many years and we’re doing a piece on it going away. The property owners and security known you are coming and the gate should open. It’s a little dingy in there so dress properly.”

Later in the afternoon, she pulled up to the gate and sure enough it was open. No one was around and she even wondered if security was a thing for this plant that had been shuttered for 30 years.

The parking lot was overgrown with weeds sticking out of the cracks. There was a set of stairs leading into an entrance and the door was wedged open.

She walked in and the light poured through the busted windows onto the factory floor. There was plenty of scattered machinery and old toy parts strewn about.

“This is perfect,” she said to herself.

She walked around the floor snapping photos of just about anything that seemed remotely interesting. There were old baby doll heads, wheels that were never used for various moving toys and plenty of colorful and intimidating graffiti.

As she took photos, she looked around in awe at the ruin caused by some poor business decisions by people who are now dead.

In the corner of the room there was a graffiti-marked door that advertised “Pleasure awaits.”

The adventurous spirit got to her and she walked over to the door and opened it slowly. The room was not lit and had no windows. She pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight app.

“Holy shit...that’s not what I think it is?”

As the light scanned the room there were hundreds of boxes of adult toys - dildos, whips, handcuffs, blow-up dolls...just about any masturbatory aide in existence. The products seemed relatively new.

“What the fuck is going on here?,” she asked.

She took some photos with her phone and proceeded to try to text the editor. There was no signal. Then the lights flickered and came on. The door closed and suddenly there was the noise of machines and workers filling the air.

Startled, she ran and hid behind a row of boxes. A relatively well-dressed man walked in. He had a uniform of some sorts on and was well-groomed. He examined the products carefully and had a clipboard. As he got closer her insides grew queasy. There was no good reason why any of this was happening.

“Hey there, you, what are you doing here,” the man yelled once he spotted her in the corner.

“I’m just here on an assignment,” she answered.

“Oh, you’re the new product reviewer?” he said. “My boss said someone would be over today but I didn’t see you check in. It figures. Nobody knows what is going on in this business.”

She didn’t feel the need to correct the man because she felt like agreeing was the best way to get out of this at some point.

“Go ahead and pick out whatever you want to review,” the man said. “There’s another room over that way where you can take everything when you’re done.”

Still questioning this reality, she gathered random items very quickly and walked to the passage where the man was pointing. There was a hallway and stairs that ascended. Even though she felt thoroughly uneasy at this juncture, she walked up the stairs and found that they led to a nicely decorated room that looked like it was straight out of 1974.

The carpet was a fuzzy orange and there were lime green walls. In the middle of the room was a huge round bed with a plaid pattern covering the bed spread. On one wall was a large mirror that almost covered the length of the wall.

She quickly sat on the bed and put her camera and the sex toys off to the side. She attempted to call her editor again and it went nowhere. There was no signal at all.

There was small speaker in the corner and a voice boomed over it. It might have been the man from before but she doubted it.

“Hello, I’m glad to see you,” the voice said. “You really didn’t have to bring photography equipment today, but that’s a nice gesture.”

Beyond confused, she began to feel like there was some sort of massive mistake going on.

“Hey, uhhh, I’m a photographer with the Daily Herald. I’m just down here to take pictures of the abandoned factory,” she spoke in the direction of the speaker.

There was a long pause then the speaker crackled to life again.

“Does this place look abandoned to you?” the male voice said. “Look, it’s O.K. if you are nervous. We entertain all sorts of women here. We are always looking for a market advantage and we value the opinions of everyone who comes into this room. Even photographers.”

Her eyes wandered the room, trying to understand what is going on.

“Am I free to leave, if I choose?,” she asked.

There was more silence from the speaker. Then it activated again, but instead of a voice, a pleasant low, rumbling hum filled the room. She was not sure if there were other speakers hidden. The noise was pleasant and immediately relaxed her, though. Her mind drifted off into happier times, into times of pleasure.

Although it may have appeared that she was concerned, she was actually right at home being the object of a voyeur. When she was in college she earned some extra money being a cam girl. Although she did well, she was actually not in it for the money. The thought of being watched always excited her and with this new real job there was not ample time or space to explore that side of her she cherished.

Before long she could feel any resistance she might have had simply jettison her body. She melted into the mattress and began removing her work boots. It was a short time later that she tossed aside the rugged pants she had chosen for the day’s work. Her possessed hands reached over on the bed and grabbed a product that appeared to be a glass dildo. She put it up to her face, faced the mirror and devoured the product as saliva leaked out of the side of her mouth. She made sure to give them plenty of angles as she put on a stage show dedicated to the fucking of her mouth.

The drone of the hums changed pitch and speed and it seemed to trigger an instruction within her brain. She immediately removed her top and tossed it aside. Her very unsexy bra came next and she got a pillow and made her self comfortable in front of the stranger or strangers behind the glass. She reached for a massager next to her and immediately put in on her bare pussy.

The vibrations soared through her body. The sound also got louder and her moans challenged it for dominance. She was a seeping mess on that bed and stared into the abyss covered in her own juices.

There was one final toy on the bed. It was a well-crafted flesh-colored latex cock. It was around  inches but she wasn’t worrying about the girth of the product. She just wanted to cum all over that cock as people stared at her. She could not get this on a simple credit of her photography. She needed to be the star.

So, she

shoved

that

thick

fucking

cock...in...so...deep

She was aggressive with it, trying to feed a pussy starved for the only attention it really wants. The speaker shut off, but it didn’t matter to her. She wanted to fucking cum and she looked at the mirror and let the audience know.

“I need to fucking cum, right fucking now...it can be on that fake cock or a real one. ANY real one. I don’t give a fuck.”

Following her demand, a man with a mask walked in the room. She couldn’t even register the design or shape of the mask because the man grabbed her leg and flipped her over on her stomach. He pulled her to the edge of the bed and made her stand, bent over it.

He pushed her pants and underwear to around his lower thigh and began to stroke his cock in front of the needy stranger pussy.

“C’mon fuck me. Now. I need it.”

And he did. He grabbed the fleshy part of her hips and thrust until his shaft completely disappeared inside her and fought for even more ground. He made little sound but hastened his thrusts with no regard for her well-being. He used the gaping photographer’s hole to her satisfaction and quickly arrived at a point where he needed to let go.

“Go ahead, fucking cum,” she demanded, the trance divorcing her from common sense.

The man groaned and dumped his deep into the waiting cunt. It pulsed several times inside her and the warm, gooey feeling felt so much better than a rubber cock.

“You know, none of your products come close to that,” she mumbled to the stranger.

Pulling up his pants, he scurried out of the room.

The speaker crackled again.

“You are free to leave. Thank you for your participation in this survey. You will not be contacted,” the voice said.

A previously hidden drawer opened on the other side of the room and in it was five crisp $100 bills. She got dressed quickly and snatched the money. She turned promptly and took one photo of the room before scurrying out the door.

As she ran down the steps and back into the abandoned factory, a sense of mystery fell over her. She looked back at the door she came out of and the graffiti saying “Pleasure awaits” was gone.

She had service on her phone but could not even begin to describe what went on, so she left through the front gate and returned to car.

She took one last look at the building and smiled. She started the car and returned to the bureau.

As she walked into the bustling newsroom, an assistant to the editor leaned in and asked her about the assignment.

“Oh, I was meaning to ask you about that,” the desk jockey said. “Did you get any good shots?”

She nodded but didn’t offer anything else.

“Oh, did you run into any weird shit in there? There were rumors going back to the ’70s that it was used for some sex toy smuggling. Some people have always wondered about how the owners made money because nobody, even here, liked those toys.”

She told the guy that she just needed to look at what she had first and then would present him with the evidence he wanted if anything popped up.

When she inserted the card into the computer, familiar images populated the screen.

Everything she remembered about the factory floor was there, but she wasn’t interested in that.

She went to the last photo created and opened it.

The 1970s era room was not there. Or at least it was not in its pristine form.

The carpet was faded and dirty. The bed was saturated in moisture and mold grew from the fabric. The door hung by a single hinge. The lights were broken.

As was the mirror.

She zoomed in.

Behind the mirror was a bench and an old tripod.

Her mouth dropped.

Where was she?

When was she?