This is the first chapter of a 175 page, 8 chapter, completed book with 68 images, and 48 bonus images after the story. It is currently available in my shop.

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Charli and The “Chocolate” Factory

CHAPTER 1

I was poor even by “guy in his twenties” standards, having no safety net or higher education to speak of. My apartment was falling apart, my job at the candy store was always cutting back my hours and I rang in my 21th birthday by scrolling through social media because going out was too expensive.
It was on that night when all this began, and soon enough it was popping up all over my algorithm. I was just about to shut down my phone, look at the black-screen reflection of poor Charlie, and go to bed. But fate had other things in store, and the last video that came up before I quit swiping through was of a newscast by the factory.
“Wonka Factory made the announcement only an hour ago, and already their products are flying off the shelves! We’ve never seen a consumer rush like this, but it’s well warranted. Those who discover the Golden Tickets hidden inside various Wonka products will be able to tour the factory which has been locked down for decades. Rumors swirl about the company’s various wings and subsidiaries, ranging from candy, to medical research, to broadcasting. Yet this leviathan of industry has retained strict secrecy towards its inner workings. Those who win this contest will be the first to see. And one out of the five tourists will receive an additional prize, an undisclosed fortune in stocks!”
Like everyone in town, I had grown up looking at the strange and massive complex known only as “the factory.” They said the world’s greatest mind lived behind its gates, and I used to dream of working there back when I was in school. But you can’t research the cutting edge if you can’t afford college, and you can’t apply to a place that no one gets inside of, so the factory just became part of the background.
Until now.
I sat up in my bed (which may or may not have been a mattress on the floor) and looked at my bank account. It wasn’t much, but I was prepared to skimp on a few meals if it meant getting all the Wonka products I could. I’d spent so long fantasizing about getting inside, about proving I wasn’t some burnout by finally getting a real opportunity. So I went to the store and opted for chocolate, the cheapest of all the products.
Hopefully Wonka earmarked a ticket for those who were struggling.

The chocolate was amazing, but it didn’t have the ticket.
There were five out there, and the first one came while I was on my bike for UberEats. I got a ping on my phone, which I’d programmed to notify me with news updates. I hadn’t gotten a good tip and it was depressing enough to think about how someone else had gotten good luck, but I clicked on the notification regardless.
“We’re standing here with Mike Teevee, the first winner of the golden ticket contest!”
The guy standing onscreen was about 6ft6, with a grin that projected way too much confidence and a massive computer setup. I’d normally think that such an elaborate thing was meant for gaming, but it was clear from the tissues, lotion and fleshlight that he had other purposes for it. Didn’t this dude know he was on tv?
“I can’t wait to get to the factory. Wonka makes some of my favorite videos, and once they see me, they’re definitely going to let me star!”
I facepalmed, wondering why this guy had gotten a ticket instead of me. I knew that Wonka made some adult films. Everyone did. They had fingers in everything from coffee to video games to…well, fingers. But this guy wanted to get the factory, just to see their porn sets?
“Well, that’s…an interesting reason.”
“Once they see what I’m working with, they’ll see what they’re missing out on.”
“Right. Well…we’re here with the first winner, Mike Teevee.”
I sighed, got on my bike, and rode on to my next delivery.

I kept taking extra orders, working myself like a dog and using all the money on Wonka products. It was probably not the best dieting tactic, but I was eating so little anyway that I stayed underweight. And I’d have to keep it up, because I had yet to find one by the time the second came in.
“We’re here with Vinny Beauregard, a famed young man who’s managed to get wrapped up in an even more famous event!”
I knew Vinny Beauregard, and had to ask myself if it was rigged as he walked into frame. What were the odds that a famous fitness influencer got it by chance! I mean, I guess that kind of money meant he could buy a billion chocolate bars, but it just wasn’t fair! This guy was a square jawed Adonis, greased up muscles rippling as he subtly flexed for the cameras. He was wearing nothing but a pair of blue shorts, and bragging about how he’d gotten this through ‘discipline’ as I did the math of how many chocolate bars you could buy with his streaming income.
“I’m all about discipline. That’s how I got this body. That’s how I built this empire. I am the captain of my ship, and that patience and discipline is how I was able to keep heart as I waited for that golden ticket.”
What a douche.
I’d have to keep heart despite spending a fraction of a percent of what he’d used in my search. And as I laid in bed, waiting for another order to pay for a few more bars, I could only hope that keeping heart paid off.

“We’re here with our third winner, who is NOT Charlie!”
Okay, so the newscaster didn’t actually say that. But he might as well have.
I was walking through the grocery store, wondering how far I could stretch some canned foods when the notification pinged my phone. Some German guy had won, and I just about facepalmed in the aisle. I’d only been thinking of domestic competition. Now I realized I had to compete in a rigged game of long odds with the entire world.
“Augustus Gloob here loves chocolate!” said the announcer, as Augustus ate the rest of the candy bar he’d bought. Apparently he got a whole pallet, and didn’t let the fact that he’d found the ticket halfway through stop him. His round face was stained with it, and it was clear from his plump frame that this wasn’t much of a change to his diet. He was about my age, blonde and heavy in a way that almost suited him. The interviewer kept the mic to his mouth, but he never stopped stuffing chocolate inside for long enough to speak. Considering I was trying to make a single can of soup last two days, that was a bit hard to watch. But there were still two tickets out there. I told myself I’d get the next one.

Which I didn’t, of course.
I didn’t recognize his first name, but I knew Salt. Salt Co. was one of the largest conglomerates in its market, even if it was nothing compared to the multihyphenate dominion of Wonka. Still, this was a rich boy, with a rich father. As soon as I saw the brown haired, handsome guy getting interviewed in his study, sitting on an old mahogany desk which was probably a 19th century heirloom, I understood. Vinny Beauregard had a lot of money to rig the game in his favor, but Victor Salt had enough to make winning a foregone conclusion. He sat there in his tweed suit, speaking with a transatlantic accent and saying that fortune had blessed him.
Yeah, his dad’s fortune.
I couldn’t stand to look at the entitled, pompous brat for a moment longer, so I threw my phone across the room. Regret rushed in as soon as it left my hand, and the CRACK made me wince where I sat. I couldn’t afford a new one, so I cautiously walked over in fear of what I might see.
My phone was fine. But the screen protector was done.
It was all too much, and a grumble turned to a whine as I sat up against the wall. I needed a clear phone screen to read my orders, so I took it off to the store in hopes they had something cheap. I had wasted so much money on such a stupid dream, and now I wasn’t even sure if I could afford to look through an unshattered screen.
I rode my bike with a full head of steam, finally arriving at the store just before closing. I rushed inside and towards the counter, not wanting to waste time. No browsing, just asking. I’d ask him as shamelessly as possible what was cheapest. I didn’t care anymore. Pride was for people who didn’t always lose.
“You want the cheapest screen protector? Well, Wonka makes the cheapest ones. But we’re all out because…well, you know why.”
“Right…” I muttered bitterly.
“But…” he looked behind him, walking off into a backroom and returning after a moment. “This was damaged in transit. We can’t sell it but…I think you should have it.”
I looked up and raised an eyebrow.
“Clearly you’re down on your luck” he gently informed me. “It’s only broken above where the camera is. Do you take a lot of selfies?”
“No” I said, taking it from him. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Hope your luck improves.”
He went back into the warehouse area and I left the store, taking some solace in the kindness of strangers. Maybe I didn’t need the golden ticket. Maybe I could save the way I’d been saving and eventually take some night classes. I could become a scientist like I’d always wanted. I opened the wrapper for the screen protector, musing that it wasn’t all so bad. I shouldn’t have cared so much about a stupid contest when-
Wait, did something fall out of the wrapper?
I immediately forgot all my stupid musings about perspective and consolation when I looked down to see something gold, laying down at my feet. It had fallen when I took out the screen protector and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was a ticket.
A golden ticket.
I bent over and snatched it up, eyes getting wider with every word I read.
“You are formally invited to a tour of the Wonka factory, and are now in the running to win a fortune in Wonka stock-”
I must have read the whole thing three times before realizing I was out in the open, and ducking into the privacy of an alley. Then I read it three more times, trying to breathe as the moment hit me. I’d done it! I’d gotten it! I was going to see the factory!
BZZ BZZ!
I reached for my pocket out of habit, but then I realized that it made no sense. This notification was only supposed to go off for big contest news. Unless there was a camera on me I didn’t know about, then there couldn’t be any.
At least that’s what I thought until I tore off the old screen protector and checked the updates.
“Wonka expresses displeasure with the lack of female representation. We have always been a female forward company.”
The newscaster was reading from a press release and there was a banner at the bottom of the screen that said Contest Changes Rules. “While we understand the chance at the heart of this contest, we must recommit ourselves towards putting a woman on this tour. Therefore, the last ticket is only open to a female winner.”
Just like I read the ticket 6 times to confirm the good news, I kept rewinding the clip to confirm the bad. I was ineligible? How could they-
This wasn’t fair!
I wasn’t much for protest or complaining. I worked hard and took it on the chin. But this? I had the ticket in my hand! I won! Who cares that I’m a guy! Make one of the other guys who won give theirs back!
I couldn’t give it up. I couldn’t lose now! I couldn’t…
And maybe I didn’t have to.

It was stupid. It was hairbrained. But the worst part was that it was working.
I had always been a pretty thin guy, even when I was in a foster home and getting square meals. I was also below six foot by a margin that was not insane, but still enough to help this work. I held off on unveiling the ticket until I had put in a few more overnight shifts on the delivery apps, and then used them for my makeover. It was embarrassing, to say the least. I didn’t want to look like a girl. But it was the only way I was getting in the factory, so I bucked up and got myself hair extensions. Then I spent all my free time learning about makeup and collecting what I’d need. Girly wasn’t the goal, but I couldn’t go too tomboyish either. I had to find the line between feminine enough to sell it and masculine enough that I wasn’t dying of humiliation, and thrifting finally gave me an outfit that worked.
It wasn’t just about hair and clothes, unfortunately. I had ordered a pair of breast forms on the internet, and looked up how to tuck in some drag queen videos. It didn’t seem pleasant, and I didn’t want to even imagine pointing my penis backwards for the entire trip, but it wasn’t like it was going to strain against the tape. I could keep my urges in check well enough to assure that. I started practicing one day despite how weird and disconcerting it was, and tried on the girl’s jeans to see how it looked.
Sure enough, no bulge.
I should have been psyched, but I kind of wished that it was hard to hide it. Sure, it was just average, but still.
I was staring at my flat front in the mirror, gaze going up to my long locks and then to the makeup on the table. I didn’t want to try it, even though I’d spent a week drilling lessons into my brain. Right now I could tell myself I was just a guy who looked weird. But the more convincing I got, the weirder it’d feel. If I didn’t want it so bad, I might have stopped then and there.
KNOCK KNOCK
Instead I waited for a minute, not wanting the delivery driver to see me. Then I went out and got the box, opening it to reveal a sickeningly real pair of breasts. They were D cups at least, though they measured it in ccs rather than cup size. I might have gone overboard, and just stared at the size of them as they laid in the box. Those would be…on me?
They had medical grade adhesive with it, and I knew that my unveiling had waited long enough. I wanted to wait a little longer, but I lifted them up instead. Boy, were they heavy. I probably could have just stuffed a bra, especially with the top I’d picked, but I’d been zealous. So I applied the adhesive to myself, and pressed the fake breasts to my chest.
They felt even heavier on my chest than in my hands.
I swung my torso left and right, getting acquainted with the feeling and making sure the glue held. It was working almost too well, and I hoped that I’d be able to take them off when the time came. But until then, I got used to the inertia of the things, and the way they protruded out from me. I almost worried I might bump into everything now that these were attached. I walked around, stopping in shock as my first step made them rise and fall. It was making me understand why girls this big loved a good, supportive bra, but I’d have to get one of those at the store. For now, I put on the one I got and the top I’d bought with it, leaving a bit of my midriff exposed as I looked to the makeup.
Now or never.
The video had been one thing, but actually globbing and contouring was something else. I felt so weird, and I tried not to really look as I did it. The avoidance made it harder, but I had been watching so many videos that when I finally finished, I had a feeling it’d look good. In fact, I had such a big feeling that I didn’t want to open my eyes. My penis was tucked. My clothes were girl’s. My chest had breasts and my face was made up. If I opened my eyes now, I’d see the whole package. I’d see Charli.
But, after a moment or two of hesitation, I looked.

Yeah, this was going to work.
I had to blink for a second to remind myself that this wasn’t some girl. It was me. It was my reflection, which totally looked like the reflection of a hot girl my age. This was going to work…
And when it worked, I would be a girl, in front of a thousand cameras. I’d have people staring at my fake breasts, and being weird about my false body. If I couldn’t be normal about it, I knew they couldn’t.
This was going to be an interesting few days.
I took the ticket and set out for the hotel where all the other winners were staying in wait of the tour. Hopefully we wouldn’t have to wait too much longer, because this charade was going to get old fast. I already hated the way my whole chest moved when I ran across the cobblestones, and pulled at my jacket in hopes to mitigate it. But I was so focused on rushing that I didn’t notice that someone was watching me, someone waiting just behind the corner of an alley…
“Our lucky winner…”
I stopped cold when I heard that, mostly because the ticket was in my purse. How did they know?

“Miss…” she trailed off, as if asking for my name. I turned to the woman, half covered in shadow, and cleared my throat. I’d been practicing a feminine voice, but hadn’t expected to try it out right now.
“Charli- with an i!” I quickly corrected.
“Yes, I would assume so.”
“Just an i. No e at the end.”
“Understood” she said dryly. She was a blonde, by the looks of it, wearing a smart business suit and a serious expression. The darkness hid the rest, and she seemed to like it there. “Do you know who I am?”
“No. Isn’t that what the Deep Throat act is for?”
She sighed and stepped out into the light, revealing a very attractive woman in her mid 40s, sporting the type of curves that were evident even in business wear. “I am Alyssa Slugsborne.”
I raised an eyebrow. The good news was that she wasn’t with Wonka, so no one there knew who I really was. The bad news was that Slugsborne was an R&D company which was Wonka’s strongest competitor.
“We-”
“I know what you do. Why do you want me?”
“Oh, what a smart girl. Are you aware of the Ever-Lasting-Guystopper?”
“No, but I assume it’s something classified, if it involves you and Wonka” I glared, not liking the way she intoned the word ‘girl.’
“Yes. Wonka is secretly the greatest innovator in everything from medical to nano tech. Word is that they’ve invented something called the Every-Lasting-Guystopper, meant to completely change gender at the genetic level. No more hormones or surgeries for transgirls. No nasty side effects. One pill. Instant and total gender change.”
“Right. And you want me to steal it.”
“Precisely! My, you are quick on the uptick!”
“People don’t usually loom in dark alleys with non-nefarious proposals” I muttered. “What’s in it for me? If I even wanted to?”
“Well, a hundred thousand dollars…and we don’t expose to the world that you lied this whole time?” offered Slugsborne. “Even if you win, I can’t imagine that piece of information would allow Wonka to give you the prize.”
“Oh, how nice of you” I said, reaching up and trying to cross my arms. But my effort to strike a power pose was somewhat stymied by the way I accidentally pushed down against my breasts, looking down in annoyance and taking a beat to readjust. It looked like I had to cross my arms under my boobs now.
“Your choice, but now it’s been presented to you. I suggest you make it wisely” she said before walking back into the darkness, and leaving me alone.

I arrived at the hotel after a long walk spent staring at everyone. I kept looking around to make sure no one suspected me, expecting shocked gasps or knowing glares. But it seemed like I was passing well, and no one gave me a second look. I walked into the hotel and saw that the cameras were there, along with newsmen in wait of an interview. They must have wanted to ask the prior winners for their thoughts when the fifth one was announced. I’d do them one better.
“Ahem!” I said, taking the ticket out of my purse. But even as I held it in the air, their eyes were trained on the elevator.
“Ahem…”
Nothing.
“Ah….hey, over here!”
Finally, one of them turned around, and gave a big enough gasp to make the other look.
I had the ticket. Now they paid attention.
As they frantically hurried over and tried to turn on their cameras, the elevator finally opened. Not that I paid it much mind. My attention was on the onrush of spectators, and the fact that they were staring at me harder than anyone had ever stared at me. I was about to be the biggest story in the world, and all the stuff I’d been reminding myself to do in order to pass quickly left my brain. I couldn’t remind myself to carry my body a certain way, not when I could barely focus on making it breathe.
“What’s your name?”
“How’d you find it?”
“What makes you the right person to fill out this last spot?”
I just stared blinking at the flashes of cameras. Their questions were stumbling over each out, like they were trampling their way through the air to get to me. But then someone managed to shout above all of them, and a fraction of their focus turned away from me.
It was Victor.
“Leave her alone!” he said, snapping his fingers as some of his private security made their way over. I took advantage of the gap they made and hurried out, only to find a limo pulling up to the hotel.
“Get in!” shouted Victor as his men played interference, and as they helped him through the crowd. Maybe it was the shock of so much attention or the nerves that came with it, but I was eager to get out by any means necessary. I didn’t think about the fact that it might have been a bad idea, and just jumped inside when they opened the door.
Before I knew it, the two of us were sitting there as the hotel disappeared behind us.
“So…” he said in a drool and erudite accent. He was sitting facing me on an opposite row of seats, but I still didn’t like the proximity. “You’re the fifth winner? I must say I agree with the company’s ruling. It’s good to break up the sausage party.”
“Uh…yeah” I awkwardly nodded.
“You don’t talk much?”
“Not right now…” I mused, looking out the window as I realized that this was weird.
“Well, I’m going to text the others and tell them to meet the limo. Then we can all drive to the factory together. But while we’re alone…what are your thoughts on an alliance?”
“An alliance? What is this, Survivor?”
“It’s similar, my dear girl. And I’m sure we’d do much better together.”
“Yeah, sure” I agreed without thinking much of it.
“Good. Good! With my knowledge of business dealings and your…charm, we should do well! Now, before the others get here?”
He moved to my row of seats, sitting right next to me and putting a hand on my leg.

“Dude…” I growled, trying hard to maintain my voice’s high pitch. “I don’t care how rich you are. Not going to happen.”
He looked puzzled for a second, and then lifted his hand off. The general vibe I got from his expression seemed to be “your loss” but I was fine with him thinking whatever he liked. As long as he didn’t touch me.
Soon enough we pulled to the backdoor of the hotel and the other winners came out. Vinny was nothing but shorts and a wifebeater, looking almost disappointed that the cameras didn’t get a look at his muscles. Mike was giving me weird looks like he’d never seen a girl in real life before, and they almost made me as uncomfortable as Victor’s hand. Augustus was just eating, which was almost endearing, in a strange way. He was the only one who wasn’t being weird to me.
“What’s your diet?” asked Vinny as we neared the factory. I wasn’t sure why Victor thought that Wonka would just come out at the beckon call of five tickets, but trying seemed better than waiting with these guys.
“My what?”
“Well, you’re trim. You must be disciplined. What are you sticking to?”
“Uh, poverty?” I shrugged, hating the way it made my breasts rise and fall. You could see Mike’s gaze rise and fall in tandem. I’m pretty sure he hadn’t looked up at my eyes this whole time.
“Want some?” asked Augustua, lifting up a big chocolate bar to my mouth.
“Um, no thank you” I politely told him, almost wishing I was dealing with reporters instead.
The limo beat most of the reporters to the gates, but a traffic jam behind us indicated that they weren’t far behind. The honking of horns was deafening, and some newsmen had abandoned their cars and were running up on foot.
“Take out your ticket!” snapped Victor as the others brandished theirs. It seemed they’d talked about this before.
“Do you really think they’re going to give us the tour right this second?” I asked, reluctantly reaching into my purse and pulling it out.
Boy, did I feel stupid when that gate opened.
The reporters hushed. The cameras trained on the distant door. I looked down at myself as if asking whether I really thought this disguise was going to work.
“What are you looking for?”
I turned, along with everyone else, to see a curly haired woman standing behind us. I’m not sure if it was the ostentatious purple outfit, the big hat or their general vibe of mischief, but I knew immediately who it was. Only one person in this town wasn’t looking in anticipation of Wonka. That was Wonka herself.
“I thought I’d avoid the whole dramatic introduction” she said, walking out in front of the whole dumbstruck crowd. “Now that you’re all here, there’s no time for that! So little to do in so much time! Wait…you know what I mean.”

She walked through the gate and gestured for us to follow, despite the fact that the whole crowd was still too shocked by the sight of her to even react.
“Hurry up! The early worm catches the bird!”
I looked to the other guests, right around the time that the newscasters had recovered themselves enough to actually say something. It was like seeing Howard Hughes after he became a hermit for 20 years, and seeing him cracking jokes in a purple suit coat.
However shocking it was, I wouldn’t pass up this chance. I hurried after them as the others hurried with me.

I was expecting cutting edge labs, hyper-advanced AI, and sterile white rooms where science was advanced. Instead we walked into a massive foyer whose wall was entirely covered with jackets.
“This is the coat room. Feel free to take one” joked Wonka, walking forward without a single pause. We tried our best to keep up, and I was the only one that had any trouble with it. My tuck job felt so weird and awkward in these tight jeans, and my false breasts were way too realistic in how cumbersome they were. Still, I soldiered on, ready to see the marvels of technology. And the search for the Ever-Lasting-Guystopper was not lost on me.
“Now!” she said in a theatrical voice once we reached an old oak door, looking strange as it rested within a hi-tech metal wall. “There are a few rules here. Listen. Don’t touch anything you’re not supposed to. Do not pass go. No using the pool until an hour after you’ve eaten and no telling a single soul about what you see in here. Got it?”
“My father’s lawyers looked over the contest rules” protested Victor. “And you said nothing about-”
“Now who are you going to listen to about my factory? Me? Or some lawyers?”
“But my father-”
“Great! Now, welcome to…the factory!”
As if on cue, the massive door opened all on its own. It creaked as it swung on the hinges, and Wonka turned to enjoy the sight of…
Honestly, it looked pretty dirty.
There were bricks and cinder blocks and pipes and it looked more like a sewer than a factory. But there was one odd sight, one that quickly caught Augustus’s eye. He hadn’t been paying attention to the rest of the speech, but he lit up when he saw the rich, brown river flowing next to the walkway.
“Es true! There’s a chocolate river!” he exclaimed in his German accent, rushing past us and lunging towards it.
“No…stop…don’t…” sighed Wonka as Augustus jumped inside.
I stepped alongside her and raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you worried about him contaminating your chocolate supply?”
“I would be…if that was the chocolate supply” she shrugged. “That’s the runoff from all our medical labs. Nanobot toxic waste…”
Augustus emerged from the sludge, but the part of him that poked above the waterline seemed different. Gone were the chubby cheeks and fatty features. His corpulent frame had seemingly been eaten away, leaving him with a face that was almost angular. But it wasn’t angular in a “square jawed guy” type of way. The features were fine, like those of a pretty girl.

When he bobbed a bit higher over the water line, I realized where all his fat was going to.
Vinny gasped behind me, but Wonka herself just rolled her eyes. I could see the fat disappearing now, like it was being sucked away and reapportioned to two specific parts of the body. Augustus was trying to swim back towards us, and laying horizontal in the water showed us that his butt was now straining his pants. It almost looked like it might rip them clean open, especially as his hips widened in kind. It was clearly a struggle to swim as his body changed at the same time, but we saw why when he once more floated vertically. There was something in the way of his motion, and it’d be dragging against the water unless he swam on his back.
It was his chest.
His breasts were as big as mine, only his were real. They were his flesh, taken away in order to make him a thin yet thicc girl. Even his blonde hair was growing to reflect his new appearance, going down to his mid back as he cried out for help. And even his cries were the high pitched cries of a woman.

I stepped back as he finally reached the grated walkway and slowly climbed back up, afraid that he would splash us with some of Wonka’s toxic waste. It was clear that he wasn’t quite an Augustus anymore, and Mike Teevee was looking at him with the same barely contained, incel desire that he had for me.

“He’s…a girl?!” exclaimed Victor.
“Oh, no! Transforming a male into a fully functional female with no side effects and permanent results would take a genius, trying for it on purpose” said Wonka, turning towards us and winking. “I’d say they’re still at least somewhat male!”
With that she swung her cane up between Augusta’s legs, hitting her right in the-
“EEEEK!!!!!”
“Yes, I’d say that’s still there” smirked Wonka.
At that the distant door opened, and two large, strapping black men walked through the door. The massive workers approached and stood on either side of Augusta as she reached up and groped her own chest. She was going to need a very supportive bra for those things…
“These are my two assistants, Oompa and Loompa. I found them in Africa back in my chocolateer days. And since you love chocolate so much…”
“What?” asked the blonde, in a now much prettier German accent. “I feel funny…”
“That would be the residual effects of the waste. You need to have it extracted from the body. Unfortunately, they tend to accumulate in the reproductive organs.”
“Ich verstehe nicht?” she whimpered.
“Don’t worry. These men will make sure it’s emptied out” said Wonka, patting her on the head. “And you just might get a lifetime supply of chocolate if you play your cards right…”

With that the two men escorted the feminized gurl off, looking her up and down and she tried to pretend she wasn’t staring at them too. “Danke…”
“That’s it? She fell in a vat of nanowaste and that’s it?!” exclaimed Victor.
“What did you expect?” shrugged Wonka. “A song and dance?”
With that she gestured up to one of the open doors, and began leading us towards it. “Now…let’s show you all the real factory.