Parisian writer Nicolas is a pathetic slave to an obsessive libido that literally forces him to have sexual encounters constantly, which becomes a detriment to any partner with whom he can connect emotionally. From his elegant girlfriend Sabine to Lucille, the temporary secretary who types his works, these are only temporary "solutions," as the poor girls end up exhausted and bored of fornicating constantly. Inspired by one of his own novels, Nicolas decides to build his own woman, a servile robot named Kim, anatomically flawless and sexually insatiable. Although she lacks the power of speech, Kim doesn't accept her status as a "woman-object" for long and, paradoxically, begins to usurp her creator's authority over her own life. In a last-ditch attempt to regain power, Nicolas builds a second robot, but Kim has already become a vengeful goddess of all the women her creator has so carelessly used to satisfy his enormous appetites.

“La Femme-Objet” remains a peculiar beast in the history of continental carnality. With an intelligent and cultured script, which offers a particularly cruel interpretation of the Pygmalion myth, with a touch of Frankenstein, the film offers an incisive critique of the pornographic representation of men as virile and irresistible, and women as available and accommodating, expanding stereotypes and taking them to grotesque extremes. Science fiction and dystopias (such as “Café Flesh,” 1982) applied to adult cinema often reflected idiosyncrasies based on forced or unhealthy sexual dissatisfaction. Without any dialogue, Marilyn Jess achieves astonishing eloquence in the evolution of a "love doll" with expressionless eyes, ultimately liberated and autonomous, delivering a clearly feminist message to a male audience perhaps ill-prepared for this paradigm.