Story: Drone Metastasis Chapter Four

Drone Metastasis Chapter Four

It felt good to be Suited. He breathed in deeply, letting the gas carry him into the proper frame of mind. He was a guard. His only duty was to keep Her safe.

His body moved autonomously as he followed his Queen, matching his steps to hers through the Gestalt. Two other guards walked on either side of Her, black, menacing Drones ready to tackle anyone trying to attack their Queen.

Not that it was likely for any attacks to happen here, inside one of her outposts. Still, it was always a good idea to keep one’s guard up. In his case, it was a requirement. The gas in his lungs focused him utterly on his duty, and the plastic globe Installed in the back of his mouth linked him to the Gestalt and the other Drones around him.

They worked together, following a master plan with perfect coordination. Anyone attacking them would have a difficult time, as anything one of them noticed would be communicated to all of them in a blink.

They passed through an operations area, Suited Drones hard at work at their consoles. There was little resistance remaining in the region, but what little there was could still be dangerous. It was their duty to detect it and stamp it out.

A large map on the far wall indicated their current operations. Areas in red were occupied by Hive. Areas in blue were still contested. Every day the red inevitably spread, tendrils spinning out like threads in a neural network. Wires infiltrating the fabric of everyday life, thickening until they became steel rods threaded throughout society. Wrapped so tightly around the core regions that even military force would be unable to remove them.

His Queen was in charge of this region, and she was in his charge. Nobody would stop her from accomplishing Her goals. He would see to it.

The rubber hose attached to his gas mask flexed as he breathed, a calming rhythm that kept him in check. No need to get excited here. The resistance had never before managed to put together a raid on their main base.

His Queen hummed with pleasure as she swayed on platform boots, heels striking against tile. The latex shirt she wore contained cut outs for her breasts, allowing the perfect spheres to spill out into the solid grip of her black, leather corset.

As she walked, the golden bauble that pierced her belly button swayed back and forth, the end of a delicate chain resting above her bare snatch. Her emerald green shorts gripped her thighs tightly, but an opening at her crotch allowed free access to her privates.

His eyes naturally wanted to follow her swaying butt, but the gas kept his thoughts on course, looking for threats. She was desirable and enticing, yes, which was why the resistance would want to take her out. She was too valuable a target to give up. Hive would keenly feel the loss of one of Her most productive subjects.

He gripped the shock prod in his hand tightly, almost hoping that an enemy would reveal itself so he could deal with them. That was the only way he would be able to assuage his insistent arousal.

His Queen marched on, heels clacking loudly. Leaving the operation room behind, they arrived at a conversion lab. Drones clad in yellow attended female figures locked to operating chairs.

One of them walked up to a console and moved a dial, moving two suspended lights in close to mesmerize her victim. The fingers on her other hand caressed a joystick, moving an extending arm in close to the prone woman’s mouth.

Four robotic claws moved out from the tubular device, pressing against her lips. They prized her flesh aside, jamming between her teeth and cranking her jaw open. The cylindrical device pushed inwards, jamming inside her mouth.

The woman’s body jumped on the table, arms splayed to her sides. The attending Drone smiled, backing up and turning to face her Queen.

"The Implantation goes well, Mistress. Their last unsuccessful attack yielded several of their leaders who are currently undergoing conversion."

"Good," said the Queen, stepping forward to examine the prone woman, who was moaning pitifully. "It won’t be long before they understand that they are under new management. Replaced."

She ran a finger over the hip of the newly Implanted slave. Zach could feel the touch through the Gestalt, the new Drone’s consciousness linking to him through her new Interface.

"This one was particularly troublesome, was she not? A leader of sorts?"

The yellow Drone bowed gently in assent. "She attempted to kill herself before our robots could capture her, but she was not successful."

"Too bad for her, but good for Hive. We should show her how Hive treats her obedient Drones."

His Queen glanced at two other new Drones on other tables, whose bodies’ jerked as they were also Implanted. "I think my guards should have the pleasure. It is good for them to work off their excess energy."

She gestured at Zach and the other two guards. "Mount them, Drones. Show them what it is like to belong to Hive."

Zach breathed faster as it dawned on him what she was commanding. He could not disobey his Queen, but he didn’t want to, either.

He could see the other guards obeying the command out of his peripheral vision, but he only had eyes for the Drone he was about to fuck.

Climbing onto the table, he shoved his shock prod back into his belt and unzipped his pants, his cock springing free. Since becoming a Hive Drone, he found that he was always at the ready. Ready to fuck on command.

The Drone on the bed had relaxed back, watching him in a daze. He slipped his length inside her snatch, thrusting roughly as he leaned back to push himself all the way in. He unlocked his helmet and slid it open, blue gas escaping into the room in a small cloud.

Leaning forward, he pressed his rubbery chest against her breasts. This allowed him to run his hands through her hair, which would soon be removed, and kiss her lips. They tasted delicious, and familiar.

Confused, he pushed himself back to take in her features more carefully, pumping his dick inside her. She was biting her lip and had her eyes closed, writhing, but she seemed even more familiar now.

He brushed a lock of hair away from her face and his heart thrummed. This was his sister’s friend, Simone! He had dreamed of fucking her for ages, but she had always given him a cold shoulder when he had seen her in passing.

Now here she was, getting her brains fucked out by a Hive Drone. By him.

She was a Drone herself, or soon would be. The sensation of his slow fuck rattled through her body. The Gestalt must be messing with her mind, enhancing the sensations.

He had a hard time holding himself back. This was his duty. To fuck on the command of Hive. To enforce Her will.

He just hadn’t imagined that Hive would force him to fuck his sister’s best friend!

Still, there was a faint sense of deja vu, as if he had done something similar before. He felt a bit dizzy, wishing for more of the blue gas to calm himself down.

Gritting his teeth, he focused on his task. He was doing as he was commanded. He was obedient.

Even so, he looked up as he reached climax, staring into the face of his Queen as his semen gushed into Simone. He jerked in embarrassment as he recognized his Queen’s face. She wore a metal collar labeled ‘Q03,’ but that wasn’t what bothered him. His Queen looked like Zoe.

***

Her hips vibrated as another orgasm blasted through her brain, but she took no notice. Her mind was too busy sucking down the instructions fed into it via the display.

She took another breath of the hazy gas, swollen blue breasts pushing out as her lungs inflated.

Her body was warm, maintained at the appropriate temperature by the fluid in the capsule. Her environment was entirely controlled by Hive. Her body was controlled. Her thoughts were controlled.

Her waking mind had been suppressed by the screen as her thinking personality was adjusted to better suit Hive thought. To align her so that she could be Installed into the Gestalt.

The course of her desires had a new focus: many others needed to be made into Drones. They needed to recruit the whole world so that all may become Hive slaves.

The new thoughts were arousing. Her hands fondled her breasts as an expression of her lust. Drone love was pure. All would be made Drones so that everyone could share the love of Hive.

As she exhaled a mist of the gas being fed into her lungs, she could hear a loud gurgling sound from somewhere below. The dildo in her pussy pulsed again, and her body shuddered. She was unable to take her eyes away from the screen as more green text was fed into her brain.

Her mouth whispered more words, but in truth, she knew she was close to the end. The knowledge Hive had needed had been extracted by the screen. All that was left was for new protocols to be uploaded.

As the lines of characters printed onto the screen, they were automatically transcribed into her brain for later, deepening Hive’s control over her. Etched into her reptile brain, these new truths would fundamentally alter her behavior without her even needing to think.

Being written to was enormously arousing, her hips bucking again against the restraints. While all her conscious mind could think about was being fucked and orgasming away her will, Hive was underwriting everything that she knew about her existence, and she loved it.

All too soon, however, it was over. The last line was written and accepted, the screen flicking off and retracting into the ceiling.

She choked as a rubber tube was withdrawn from her throat, the mask which had been her home for an unknown amount of time pulling itself inexorably from her head. Her neck muscles spasmed and she gagged, spittle dripping from her lips as the mask extracted itself.

The fluid her body was suspended in was lapping at the bottom of her breasts, the level dropping rapidly. She swallowed reflexively several times, coughing the remaining gas from her lungs. The buzzing in her crotch faded, leaving her with a languid warmth in her privates.

The interior of the pod was humid, filled with a blue haze. To her delight, she found that it had been pressurized with more of the gas. She breathed it in, her eyes unfocusing as she thought about her new life.

As a Drone, she would need to find a way to help Hive convert her family into Drones, too. Her brother should not prove to be too difficult, as he spent all of his time in virtual reality. She was certain Hive would find a way to infiltrate his equipment and convert him to the Hive way of thinking.

Mother already seemed well on her way to accepting Hive, but her father would definitely be an issue. A stubborn old cuss, he wasn’t likely to accept a new way of thinking without outside assistance.

There must be some way to penetrate his hard exterior, but she had to confess that she didn’t have any ideas. She shrugged. Either Hive would provide her the tools she needed to accomplish her mission, or she would be assigned another task. She would enjoy converting her family, but that decision was up to Hive.

The rest of the liquid in the pod drained away, and the belt holding her onto the dildo unclicked, dropping from her waist. She stood up, the thick length of the rod slipping from her snatch, rubbing her lips delightfully as it fell away.

She stood there, blank and cold. Curious, she looked down at her body. Her clothing and shoes must have been dissolved by the liquid treatment, as she was nude. She lifted her hands to caress her breasts as she had in the pod, surprised at how dark they looked. Blue and rubbery, her flesh squeaked as she massaged her tender orbs.

Curiosity satisfied, she smiled and let her hands drop. She was but a new Drone, as yet undressed and unfit to serve Hive. Hive would give her orders and tell her what to do and she would obey. Whatever Hive desired of her she would accomplish with all of her strength and intellect.

A busty Drone stepped into her field of view, heels clacking on the floor in chunky platform boots. Her voluptuous breasts were suspended on top of a black corset cinched tightly around her white bodysuit. Her thick nipples were pierced with silver barbells, the rounded tips sparkling under the artificial light of the chamber. She might have assumed that this was another Drone, but the collar at her neck indicated that this was the Instructress, Fifteen.

After her time in the pod, their bodies were almost identical, sans the extra accoutrements the Instructress wore.

They were matching robotic Drones. This knowledge pleased Zoe very much.

She was disappointed, however, that she wasn’t dressed in a shiny bodysuit. She very much wished to match the other Drone and take her place as a proper Hive slave.

The Instructress lifted her hand and gestured at Zoe to follow, turning to present her perfect ass. It winked at Zoe as her butt flexed, her bodysuit shifting delightfully as each lithe leg stepped forward.

Mesmerized by the motion, she almost didn’t notice when her body began to follow, slipping along in her wake.

Was her unspoken command enough to solicit her obedience? Or was she being controlled by the new truths embedded in her brain by the screen? Either way, the result was the same. She padded across the floor, barely noticing the remaining droplets of fluid evaporating as she marched.

The outer door to the chamber hissed open, and Instructress led her across the corridor to a second door. This one opened as smoothly as the first, revealing a metallic chamber with a low ceiling. The interior was mostly filled with a large machine, split into two halves.

The outline of two feet was painted onto the floor on a raised platform, and with another gesture from the Instructress, she realized that she was meant to step up into the outlines.

Obeying the Instructress, she placed her feet on top of the outlines, shoulder width apart. She lifted her head and stared directly at a large eye painted onto the far side of the chamber. The center of the eye revolved, turning a bright blue, capturing her thoughts effortlessly.

She lifted her arms at an unconscious thought communicated to her by the machine, spreading her fingertips outwards. The machine hissed and two metallic forms descended from the ceiling, locking together around her body.

The edges of the form had left holes for feet, arms, and neck, covering her body entirely with its shiny finish. Tubes were attached to various parts of the form, at the tips of her breasts, at her hips, and up and down her arms and legs.

Her mind twisted as the large eye turned, barely noticing the hissing noise from the machine. Her body felt cold, then warm. Some sort of liquid was being inserted into the form.

Chest lurching, she wheezed as the machine pumped more liquid inside until the interior was completely filled. There came an intense heat and a hiss of steam from her shoulders, and the form unlatched, edges tilting as it was pulled back into the ceiling.

She blinked, realizing that the eye had stopped turning, releasing her mind. The Instructress was in front of her, motioning her to proceed forwards.

Obeying, she walked off the ramp to stand next to her Mistress. She knew intimately that as long as she was inside the facility the Instructress controlled, she would obey her implicitly.

She turned on her heel and watched the next Drone step into the machine. The forms descended and the Drone’s eyes unfocused, staring at the far wall. Her body shuddered as the machine worked on her, eyes fluttering as she gasped.

When the forms unlatched and pulled away, they revealed a bright orange latex bodysuit. Her legs moved forward, showing off her perfect hips and thighs as they flexed under the stretchy material.

Curious about her own suit, and not currently under any orders, Zoe looked down and smiled brightly at the color of the material tightly gripping her skin. It was an emerald green, stretched perfectly over the spherical expanse of her breasts. Small dimples at the tips gave away her arousal at the process.

For she had been Processed, like all the other Drones would be, and it felt glorious. Everyone deserved to discover the joy of being a Drone.

She started as the orange Drone settled into a line next to her, and she looked up just in time to see the next Drone entering the machine. She smiled widely at the sight of Simone’s altered figure being cupped by the metallic forms.

Her body had been adjusted just like Zoe’s. Unique characteristics remained, but her body fat had been redistributed as needed, enhancing her breasts and hips. She had been changed and molded to more closely match Hive’s requirements.

This made it easier for them to be Processed and assigned. Easier to be swapped out as needed. Interchangeable cogs in the vast empire of Hive.

The machine hissed, releasing the Drone. Simone stepped forward in a purple body suit.

Zoe wasn’t certain what the colors meant, but she looked stunning in the sleek latex, her hips reflecting the light as she stepped forward from the platform.

Pleased with how the bodysuit clasped her friend’s curves, she stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek as she approached. It felt like the natural thing to do.

Simone returned the kiss, lingering for a moment. They were more than friends now. They were Drones.

As Drones, however, she wasn’t yet sure what she should be doing. She peeked at the Instructress and cleared her throat. "What is my role? How should I be serving Hive?"

Instructress gave them an inscrutable smile. "Your duties and numbers are being allocated. Do not concern yourself with such things. Hive has your measure, and you will be slotted in as Hive requires. You will serve exactly where Hive needs you most."

Zoe hugged her best friend and fellow Drone. It felt good that Hive was in control of their future. No more worrying about finding a job. No more concerns or fears. Hive would provide.

***

Susan hummed as she opened the oven with a gloved hand, enjoying the steam that was released by the cooking lasagna. The cheesy top had a perfect crust, and she was rather excited herself as she pulled out the glass pan and rested it on top of the oven, fetching a metal spatula.

A noise from the doorway attracted her attention, and she spotted Zach entering the kitchen, shuffling in his t-shirt and baggy pants. She smiled at the noticeable round bulge over his crotch, but didn’t comment on its presence.

"Ah, you’ve surfaced! Are you ready for some dinner?"

Zach mumbled nonsensically, settling heavily into his chair, shuffling in close to the table to hide the bulge in his pants. He laid his hands on the table and stared deeply into the swirling blue globe that had taken pride of place in the center of the table.

A background hum filled the room, and the globe brightened. His jaw clenched and his eyes unfocused as it seized his mind. Breathing heavily, his body vibrated, but remained in place.

Susan blinked as well, her programming also being triggered by the globe. She turned and fetched plates from the cabinet, her body moving automatically.

The haze that had overtaken her mind left her feeling pleasant. Everything that was happening was right and proper. She felt pleased that her family was being brainwashed, and she would do anything necessary to help them reach their required state.

Like a robot, she set out the plates, forks, and knives, carefully setting the napkins so that she wouldn’t interrupt Zach’s view of the hypnotic globe.

The creak of the front door interrupted her motions, and she turned and smiled as she heard Jack coughing and grumbling.

"I hope dinner is ready!" he declared, the closet door opening and slamming as he put his jacket and briefcase away. "It’s been a long day."

"They took us aside for special training today. Some sort of new compliance bullshit. It took hours, and I feel as though my head’s been squeezed through an extruder."

"The worst part is that they say they’re going to have to do another session tomorrow. Probably because some city executive had sexual relations with an intern or something. Corrupt bastards."

He stepped through the kitchen door as Susan set a big slab of lasagna onto his plate.

"I thought I needed to have a salad tonight…" he murmured, looking up from the food. His eyes were instantly caught by the flashing globe.

He sat down into his chair mechanically, not taking his sight off the inner depths of the sphere. His hand reached out reflexively, cutting a piece of the cheesy pasta, carrying it to his mouth, which worked automatically.

"This is very good," he said softly, reaching out for another bite. "This feels really good."

Satisfied that he would not interrupt the proceedings, Susan went back to the counter and started mixing up the salad. The special ingredient she had put into the lasagna would help to keep him docile.

She rested a free hand over the soft white top which covered her breasts, squeezing one gently and moaning. A gentle buzz from beneath her top rewarded her for her actions. It was so arousing to see her family being brainwashed by the globe! She would need some release herself if this kept up!

The front door moaned again, but this time nobody entered the dining room. Curious, she left the salad bowl she had retrieved from the refrigerator, pacing over to the entryway.

Standing just inside the closed doorway was Zoe, her mouth open. She wore a tight bodysuit, its green surface shining in the muted light of the hallway. Her hair had been cropped short, and her skin was colored a deep blue. The rubbery sheen of a Hivarian.

She held a metallic globe in front of her, her neck tilted downwards so that she could stare deep inside its swirling interior. Standing like a statue, she didn’t register the presence of her mother.

"I am a Drone," she whispered. "I must be trained. I must obey."

Pleased at her daughter’s enslavement, Susan stepped around to her rear and placed her hands on her shoulders. With a soft push, she guided her towards the stairs.

Her feet lifted evenly, taking the steps without an audible command from Susan. It was as though her body was on autopilot, simply moving based on the unspoken orders coming from her hands.

It felt empowering to be in control of her daughter in this way. It was the most control she had experienced since Zoe was a little girl, and it was frightening in a way.

She knew there was nothing to fear. As she controlled her daughter, so too was she under control. Her exercise sessions had seen to that. The globe had seen to that. Her vibrating breasts were a reward for that. She was being a good slave.

Her body shivered, and she thought of her husband, who was currently having his brain washed at the kitchen table. She knew exactly what she was going to do to him when she had the opportunity.

At the landing, she directed Zoe towards her bedroom, positioning her in front of her mirror. Zoe held the globe in her hands, her lips moving again.

"I am a Drone. This globe will train me. I will be trained."

Susan kissed her above the ear, envious at her state of mind. "You are a good Drone, Zoe. Just like me."

Zoe turned to look at her, eyes unfocused. "Yes, mother. We are good Drones."

Susan shuddered, feeling even more aroused as Zoe turned back to look into the globe, dismissing her presence. She was being trained to be an even better Drone.

She almost ran back down the stairs, her need driving her. When she entered the kitchen, she took in the tableau - Zach had finished eating, his body still vibrating from the orders being given him by the globe attached to his body.

She dismissed him, knowing that he was in good hands. No, what she needed was her husband. He was staring at the globe, too, an empty plate and fork long ago forgotten.

"Don’t you want some dinner?" he asked, cloudy eyes moving randomly as they tracked over the globe.

She seized him by the shoulders and pulled him bodily towards the master bedroom. He followed her down the corridor like a pet, making inaudible noises.

Once she shut the door to their bedroom, the haze over his eyes began to clear.

"What’s going on with Zach?" he asked, confused. "I don’t recall seeing Zoe, either."

Susan grinned and ran a finger over his chest. "Stop worrying about them. They’re adults. They can take care of themselves. Much like I want to take care of you."

Unbuckling his pants, she pulled them down with haste, moving a hand inside his underwear to seize his penis.

"What’s going on?" he asked again. "You’ve never been this aggressive before."

She squeezed his member, chuckling as it began to engorge. "Do I need an excuse to fuck my husband? Why are you protesting about being seduced?"

Face sallow, a gamut of emotions ran over his face, finally settling on eagerness. He shrugged. "Yeah, why am I being such a fool? Get over here!"

Her grabbed her by the neck and playfully tossed her onto the bed. She squirmed, sliding her tights down to bare her privates. Running her hands under her top, she shamelessly pulled it upwards at a slow crawl to tease him further.

Growling, he grabbed at her tights and pulled them off with one hand, tossing them aside. He crawled up onto the bed, resting his chest against her thighs, pressing his lips against her nethers.

Sucking gently, he kissed her mons, running his tongue upwards, pressing it into her belly button. She squirmed uncontrollably, eyes rolling. Her strip tease forgotten, her hands lay against the sheets as her hips jerked.

He chuckled and moved further upwards, making a sound of disappointment as he encountered her top. "If you don’t get out of this in the next ten seconds, I’m tearing it off your body," he growled.

Spurred into action, Susan gladly grabbed the fabric and pulled it up, sliding her shoulders through the arm holes. This left her clad only in her velvet black bra, her breasts feeling tight within the fabric’s embrace. It had stopped vibrating, hiding its true nature.

Her body was so ready for this. She was obeying two sets of commands from two masters, and it was turning her legs into jelly. Her desire to obey was so raw that her entire body felt tight, ready to pop.

Jack ran his hands under her back and unclasped the strap, laying his body over her before she could remove it. He kissed her fully, wet lips engulfing her own.

His hands ran under the bra, cupping her swollen flesh and fondling her nipples. She moaned under the assault, body on the precipice. She was so hot that she could almost feel an orgasm coming on already.

As his lips slid over hers with a wet pop, she breathed heavily. "If you don’t fuck me right now, I swear I’ll find a way to make you regret it."

"Do you really mean that?" he said, hovering close to her face.

His dark presence was barely visible in the darkened room, but the smell of his musk was overbearing. "What will you do for me if I pound you raw until you squeal, you dirty slut? You want this, don’t you?"

He squeezed her breasts, pulling his hands up to lift the bra away, exposing her tits. He tweaked her nipples, callously playing with her flesh.

Her body shook uncontrollably. "I’ll do anything, anything!" she shouted.

"I’ll hold you to it," he said smugly.

When he first thrust inside her, it was heavenly. It was almost enough to make her forget her new allegiance.

***

Zach wasn’t sure what was happening to him. His body felt good all the time, but he knew that something was wrong with him. He didn’t even remember most of dinner, but he had vague memories of going downstairs.

The taste of food lingered in his mouth, but nothing made sense.

He knew that he was still locked into his VR suit, which was more than a little unusual. Normally, when playing, he set regular alarms which gave him enough time to change out when he needed to go get food or to get chores done.

This time, the alarms hadn’t sounded. Nothing had intruded on his session except for a feeling of warmth and uncontrollable arousal at his crotch.

Now he was stuck in a small room which looked like his bedroom. His old movie posters and figurines were still there on the walls and the shelves. Dirty laundry and books were scattered over the floor, and his pad was where he had left it the night before, sitting next to his alarm clock.

He would almost have believed that this was real life, except he had already tried to leave the room multiple times, without success.

Each step he took outside the room would cause him to get increasingly dizzy. His vision would fade and he would wake up on his bed.

After the third attempt, he stopped trying. He wasn't an idiot - it was obvious that he was trapped in this facsimile of his room.

What was worse was that his interface was also nonfunctional, so he was unable to log out. That was very strange, and shouldn't be possible given what he knew of standard VR safeties.

Frowning, he picked up his pad and scrolled through the news stories. It was working the same as it would usually do in real life, which wasn't all that odd - VR had the proper firewalled connections to the outer net, so it was perfectly safe to browse the news and look up guides.

There had been some isolated problems in the past, but they had been resolved quickly. Nobody wanted to deal with physical consequences caused by virtual issues.

And yet here he was, trapped in this prison and unable to leave. This should have been impossible. It was really quite disturbing.

The news feed on his pad loaded, a list of stories about local and planetary happenings. A music star was being berated about some comments he had made on his messaging feed. The usual drama.

This seemed interesting, though. A trade deal had been declared with the Hivarians. He popped open the block text, reading the press release.

The emperor had apparently negotiated a trade deal, and the reporter was gushing that this must be a sign that an alliance would be signed soon.

A picture was included with the article, showing the emperor with his strange cybernetics shaking hands with a blue Hivarian. She wore a striking hat made of bright white feathers, a matching scarf wrapped around her neck.

There was mention deeper in the article about shipments having already been started, but he dismissed this as propaganda. That could only be possible if the Hivarians were completely confident that the deal would be made.

He backed out and looked at the next article, eyes widening. It declared in bold letters that the emperor's daughter had been ransomed!

Surprised, he clicked on the text. Adeline had been missing for over a month, and most people believed that she had been captured by the Ultharians.

He skimmed the text, vaguely registering that she had been recovered by the navy after being adrift in a life pod for an extended period.

Near the bottom was a photo of her waving to a crowd. He zoomed in close, surprised at her skin color. She looked like one of the Hivarians!

That didn't sound right to him. Why had the pirates altered her body to make her look like a new species they had just met?

A soft knock came at his door, and he looked up, his heart suddenly racing. This was likely his captor, and he wasn't sure what to expect.

Some sort of horrific spider monster? A demoness? It could literally be anything in this virtual space, and he had nowhere to escape to.

The reality was something far more dangerous. The door creaked open, a slender leg slipping through.

The woman was entirely naked, a physical representation of his dreams come to life. Slender thighs, a large butt, and smooth, rubbery skin.

She was colored a shocking blue, her head entirely bald. A shiny, metal circlet was clasped around her neck, 'D10' embossed on its surface.

Gravity defying breasts appeared bolted her chest, the size of large grapefruits. Her peaked nipples were capped purple, as if painted.

He swallowed deeply. He was in trouble.

"Simone?" he asked, breathless.

The woman chuckled, a deep velvety tone stroking his body. His penis throbbed in his pants, giving him an unwanted erection. He was forced to shuffle and try to hide it in the gap between his underwear and his leg.

He shuffled back on the bed, eyeing her lascivious figure. This hadn't been the first time he had fucked his sister’s best friend in virtual reality, but this was far more immediate.

He knew that in reality he would never stand a chance with her, but she was here, now, and very clearly wanted a piece of him.

He also knew very clearly that this was incredibly wrong. This wasn't reality, and this wasn't Simone. If he took her here, it would only be his imagination running away with him.

"Who are you?" he asked, trying to regain control of himself.

The woman walked to the foot of the bed and placed her hands on her hips, thrusting her chest out. It was very distracting, but her forced himself to look up at her face.

She pouted. "Don't I look amazing?" she asked. "Like a dessert you wish to taste?" Her lips smacked together.

He swallowed carefully, keeping his eyes level, running them over the creases in her skin to keep himself focused. "Who are you?" he repeated.

"Why are you so terrified?" she asked, ignoring his question. She turned and paced, stopping to look at his prone body and bending to one side.

She chuckled. "I'm just a woman. A Drone, too, yes, but still, just a woman."

His mouth was dry, as if stuffed with cotton. "What does that mean?"

"If you spend all of your time in video games, they become your reality. It is quite predictable. " She shifted her hips again, turning her head to look at him coyly. "That is why Hive wisely decided to infiltrate VR. Among many of their plans, this one is quickly coming to fruition."

"What is Hive? What is Hive's goal?"

She leaned over, displaying the swell of her breasts swaying gently. "What kind of a man are you?"

He gulped, but didn't reply, staring at her face intently.

She sighed and straightened up. "It matters not how virtuous you behave. The result is inevitable. What point is there in being intractable?"

He still said nothing. He wanted an answer, no matter how much his dick wanted to plumb her depths.

He knew full well it was futile in the end. She had him at her mercy. Beyond acting like a limp fish, there wasn't anything he could do to escape his fate.

Not that he necessarily wanted to. Fucking her willing body would fulfill one of his dreams. He just wanted an explanation.

"Fine," she sighed, climbing onto the bed, sitting with her butt perched on her ankles. "Like all annoying so-called heroes, you wish an explanation."

"It's very simple. One has taken her revenge on the Emperor, and the logical conclusion is for Hive to take over the Empire. Only then will her position be secured. Hive will be supreme."

Zach shuffled back on the bed, trying to put some distance between him and the Drone.

"One? Who is she?"

"Her to whom we pledge our loyalty as Drones, of course. Our ultimate ruler. Our Queen of Queens."

She looked reverent, joy suffusing her features. "We owe everything to her."

She leaned over and crawled up to him, looming over his body. "Soon you will love Her, too."

He shook his head, but had run out of room. Unless he intended to roll off the bed quickly, he was trapped.

She wrapped her legs around his, running her ass up his thighs. The moment had passed. She had him in her hand. Even he had to admit that he was giving in. It was too late for him to escape.

"This doesn't really matter," he gasped, looking her over as she wrapped her hands around the lip of his pants. "This isn't actually real."

She tugged hard, licking her lips at the sight of his shaft jumping up to attention. "You can try to rationalize this all you want. Yes, of course I am just a simulacrum, but you would be a fool to believe that this is just a figment of your imagination. I am your reality, and soon, Simone will be too."

She licked the base of his shaft, running the edge of her tongue all the way up to the head. His penis flexed, a drop of liquid squeezing from the tip.

Grinning, she pounced on top, draping her breasts over his legs as she swallowed his length. Her throat pulsed, vibrating around his flesh.

He hissed, the intense pressure around his dick increasing. It had only been a few moments, but he already knew he was lost. It simply felt too good, and he had little experience with holding back.

"Oh shit, that's amazing," he huffed, his lower body on fire. "Fuck, don't stop."

Her throat thrummed, stroking him as if she was a living sex toy. It was an unnatural sensation, only possible in this virtual world.

It was enough to ruin him. His penis spasmed and he orgasmed. Reality and the virtual blurred and combined for him, making it difficult to tell which was which. All that mattered was the warm mouth sliding over his member. She kissed the tip as if it was a popsicle.

"Good boy. You are obeying just as we anticipated."

She wrapped her lips around the head, sucking as she sunk her head back down his shaft. She smiled as she watched his agonized expression of pure pleasure. She knew that he belonged to Her.

End Chapter Four

Drone Metastasis: An Update

Good news, everyone! The fourth chapter of Drone Metastasis is close to being completed, and should be posted for next week's update at the MC archive (and everywhere else). You can keep an eye here to see if it will be posted earlier, but I won't promise anything as I will be spending a lot of time with family this week and won't have access to my usual posting haunts. It is likely to come after Christmas at the soonest.

At any rate, looking at the rest of my outline, there's about one to two more chapters of material left to write, so I expect this story will be wrapping up at some point in mid to late January. Thanks to everyone who has come along for the ride so far!

I very much hope you have enjoyed reading about Hive. Maybe you'll choose your own Hive number and do some recruiting for Her? I'm sure One would be happy to have you on board. :)

Update Update:

I was able to get chapter four done tonight, so it will definitely be available next week (I do need time for an editing pass!) I've looked through what's remaining a second time, and I think what's left may have shorter scenes than what has gone before, so there may be only one chapter remaining. Good or bad, we'll see how that goes as I work my way through it. Cheers, and Merry Christmas everyone!

Story: Drone Metastasis Chapter Three

Drone Metastasis Chapter Three

Jack grunted as he heard the knock at the door. It was still a weekday, but he hadn’t changed from his pajamas. He liked to be leisurely until after breakfast. It helped him to gradually step up to the work day instead of rushing to get out the door. Going to bed early and rising early was the most surefire way to be successful.

With that in mind, he looked through the peephole before opening the door. He didn’t much care if his neighbors saw him in his flannels, but he didn’t feel like greeting a delivery man. As it was, there was nobody evident, so he popped open the latch and took in the small box sitting on the porch.

Odd. He had never had a delivery this early in the day, and he hadn’t remembered ordering anything online recently.

He retrieved the box and looked at the label. No return address. Even stranger.

Bringing it inside, he stepped into the kitchen, where his wife was working at making breakfast. "Honey, did you order anything yesterday?"

He blinked when his wife answered him by gesturing at the vid screen sitting on the counter. Frowning, he moved closer so he could hear the newscasters gathered around their desk.

The one with a heart shaped face lit up the screen with a broad smile. "Welcome to Stacksville channel twelve, my name is Peach, and we’re happy to have you here this morning."

The other newscaster shuffled a stack of paper, her blonde hair drawn back in a ponytail. "And I’m Monica." She stared at the pickup with intensity, in an attempt to look professional. "Today a new beauty enhancement center is opening up in town."

Her face vanished, replaced with footage of a store front. "This area has been abandoned for years, but now, the area is revitalizing as the job market stabilizes."

Monica stepped inside, the interior looking like a nail salon. Chairs were arranged down one wall, helmets for creating perms looming from their tops. "I visited there yesterday. Danielle is the owner. She says that foot traffic is up, and is optimistic that some of the worst areas of town will soon be cleaned up."

The footage cut to Monica pointing a microphone at a younger woman with plugs embedded in her ears. Her skin was a shocking blue color, her hair dyed purple. "Yes, it’s almost busier here than I can handle," she was saying. "I opened up for a preview yesterday, and we almost couldn’t handle the rush!"

"Your new look is becoming quite popular," commented the reporter.

"Yes," replied the stylist, stroking a blue cheek. "Everyone wants to look like the Hivarians! It’s almost unprecedented!" She turned to look at the camera. "Just make sure you color coordinate your clothing to match. If you can’t figure out a good look, come on down and we can help you out!"

The footage cut away, focusing on Monica at the desk. "That’s right, they’re a full service beauty salon, and I can confirm they know what they’re doing. I watched as they helped out a couple, and I’ll be going later today myself to test out their treatments."

"All they’re talking about is bullshit," said Jack, frowning. "Nothing interesting is going on, just some sort of new salon opening up in town."

"Patience, dear," said Susan, cracking an egg.

Peach looked up at the screen. "The station is receiving many calls this morning asking about mysterious packages, but there’s no reason to be alarmed. The local government has announced a new program to increase worker efficiency."

She reached under the news desk and brought out a globe mounted on a wooden base. Blue liquid swirled inside, a glow emanating from within.

"New voice activated personal assistants are being distributed to all households within town. They can be used to lookup information, arrange schedules, or even play music."

Her hands rested on either side of the globe, cupping it as if it was precious to her. "If you don’t have one, you may visit 3222 Major Avenue, Suite 400. They will be handing them out today, free of charge."

She grinned. "I already can’t go without mine. It was so easy to setup." She looked into the globe, her eyes going cloudy. "Alphonse, play some classical," she said, her voice gentle.

Strains of an ancient melody rose through the tinny speakers of the vid screen. "You can name yours?" asked Monica. "How cute!"

Jack grunted, skeptical. "Looks like a paperweight to me," he complained, looking for a knife.

"Don’t discard it before you’ve tried it, at least," said Susan, flipping eggs in her frying pan.

Jack made quick work of the packaging, unraveling brown paper to reveal a spherical object within. Sure enough, it looked like the device on the news cast, but it was dimmed, dormant.

He pulled it out, surprised at its weight, setting it on the kitchen table. "How does it work?" he asked, staring at it skeptically.

The globe lit up from within its base. "Welcome," it said in a sultry, female voice. "I am your family Interface. I am pleased to meet you. Would you like to configure me?"

It almost made the act sound dirty. Jack wasn’t pleased.

"Can you shut up while we eat breakfast?" he asked, peering at it with suspicion.

"Jack!" exclaimed Suzy, turning to look at him with a wooden spoon dripping with pancake batter.

"What?" he asked, grumbling. "I just don’t like dealing with technology."

"Approved as requested," stated the Interface. It began to glow brightly, at a painful level.

Before he could react, it flashed, leaving an imprint behind on his retina. "What the shit was that?" he asked, blinking as stars sparkled in his vision.

The globe was now glowing, swirling clouds encompassing the deepest blue he had ever seen. He approached closer, staring deep into its depths. He settled at the table, hands at his sides. His mouth dropped open and his thoughts emptied.

He only stirred when Susan sat a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon in front of him, breaking his view of the mysterious globe. Blinking again, he took a deep breath and frowned.

"Aren’t I still on a diet? Shouldn’t this be a cup of fruit?"

Susan put a cup of coffee on the coaster in front of him. "Don’t worry, I used a special batter. It has been formulated to fulfill your needs."

He stared at the flapjack with suspicion, prodding it with his fork. He cut into the spongy surface with the edge of his utensil, separating a tiny bite. He was about to stuff it into his mouth when the loud footsteps of the kids rumbled down the stairs.

He craned his neck to watch them as they gathered around the table. Zack looked sullen, out of sorts. "Did you have a good time last night?" asked Susan, smiling brightly.

Jack wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but he knew better than to ask. He stuck the fork in his mouth to forestall an acerbic comment, begrudgingly chewing the fluffy piece of his pancake. It was surprisingly good, but he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to admit it.

Zoe came in next, dressed sloppily in a ratty t-shirt and sweatpants. Her makeup had been removed and her hair was wet. Her skin appeared a little blue, but Jack knew better than to comment on that. Probably some kind of new fashion statement.

Suzy smiled brightly, but said nothing, flipping another pancake. He was sure she knew more than she was letting on, but if he pressed her about it now, she might be less inclined to be amorous later. He knew how the game worked.

Susan put a plate in front of Zach and Zoe, both of them murmuring their thanks. Jack cleared his throat. "What is everyone’s plan’s today?"

Zoe was the first to jump in, her twin ponytails bouncing as she took a quick sip of water. "I’m going out with Zoe to have bubble tea. I probably won’t be back for lunch."

"Let me know how Simone is doing, dear," said Susan warmly. "You came back alone last night."

Zoe glanced at her screen. "Not a problem, she’s feeling fine, already planning what we should do this afternoon." She grinned at her buzzing comm screen, reading some incoming messages. "It looks like she’s really eager to start!"

Jack’s gaze moved to Zach. "How about you?" he asked, not really needing an answer.

Zach stared at his plate. "I’m going back into VR," he said, sullenly.

Jack sighed, looking at Susan. She shrugged. "He’s a grown man and this is his school break," she said. "He gets to choose how to spend it."

"Okay," he said carefully, enunciating each syllable. He couldn’t help but give Zach a disappointed stare, under which his son withered.

Susan shot Zach a sympathetic smile. "Now, remember, dear, I have exercise club this morning. I won’t be back until lunchtime."

"Alright, mom," he said. "Don’t worry, I can take care of myself."

A loud chime echoed through the kitchen. "It is time for morning Adulation," announced the AI.

The globe flashed again, and he found he couldn’t look away. The clouds covering the surface of the sphere parted, and his mind was drawn inside, captured by the image of an eye.

It was watching him, examining his past. His foibles. His errors. His pleasures. It measured him as a man and found where he was wanting. What he needed. What he desired.

It wanted to give it to him. To see him succeed. To see him fulfill his potential. It just needed him to watch closely.

He could see no reason to deny it what it wanted. He didn’t want to be upset with his family. He just wanted the best for them.

Right now, the best thing he could do was remain calm and allow the globe to train him. It would unlock his mind and teach him to find a more productive way to handle his disappointment.

After all, it wasn’t his duty to make sure his son and daughter grew up to be proper Drones. Hive would take of that.

Confused, he wondered where that thought had come from. Squinting, he relaxed. It was no matter. It was not his problem to solve.

He drifted, floating through clouds as his thoughts were reshuffled. Some of what he knew was removed and replaced. Adjusted into a more proper thought alignment.

The clear skies became cloudy, his view of the eye at the center of the globe obscured. He breathed deeply, sitting back in his seat as if it had released him from its grip. Perhaps it had.

"Session complete," stated the AI, glowing warmly. "You have been Prepared."

His lips were moving. He was saying something that the AI had planted inside him, but he had lost track of what was going on as soon as the session had finished.

A new thought arose in his mind. "I have been Prepared. I must go to work," he mumbled, standing robotically and stumbling towards the bedroom.

***

Zoe stared into the mirror on top of her chest of drawers. She must have finished breakfast and moved upstairs to her room, but she couldn’t remember doing so.

That should have been disconcerting, but she didn’t know why. She smiled at herself, the simple gesture reassuring.

There was something she was forgetting. Something important lying on the bed behind her. She turned around, an inconspicuous cardboard box sitting on top of her comforter.

A hunger grew inside her to open the box, to explore its contents. The desire grew, a burning sensation that ran up her arms and lit her chest on fire. She moved up to the box, her eyes caught by a familiar logo printed on the label. She absolutely needed to see what was inside.

She flipped open the top, revealing a slick, black bodysuit, folded neatly. The legs draped onto the floor as she pulled it out, an outline of a body in opaque latex. Her eyes caught on the creases at the generous breast cups, admiring the craftsmanship.

The hunger was back. She needed to dress herself in this outfit. Now.

Stripping off her pajamas, she let them drop to the floor, revealing her well built body. Wearing corsets had a tendency to enhance her bust even further, making the boys drool. She loved attracting attention, and this new outfit was going to be a stunner.

Stretching open the neck hole, she rammed a leg inside, her thigh catching on the slippery material. Fortunately, with a little encouragement she was able to force it over her knee, pulling the top up to her waist. It was a bit difficult to get it past the hump, but soon it was under her shoulders.

She worked the material, stretching it upwards to lay flat against her skin, admiring the shiny surface. The outfit was turning her into a latex doll. A veritable Drone. She shuddered at the thought, wondering why it was so arousing.

She slid her arms inside, popping the top ring around her neck. It was tight, but fit perfectly. Whoever had figured out her size had done an amazing job.

She briefly thought about adding a corset, but couldn’t bring herself to despoil the shiny, black surface of the Suit. It was a part of her, now, and she shouldn’t add anything to it without being told.

Leaning over, she was surprised to see a circular piece of metal nestled at the bottom of the box. She knew deep down that she wasn’t ready for that yet, so she left it alone, closing the top and hiding it in her closet.

She pressed her hands against her swollen breasts cupped in the latex suit and moaned. She was eager to be trained, to be owned. To clasp the circle of metal around her neck and declare her allegiance. Soon.

She was not ready yet. First, she needed to be altered. To change and enhance her body to be more perfect for Hive.

Her lips turned down in a frown, unsure what to make of her new thoughts. They were vague, but seemed so right.

Turning, she examined herself in the mirror, smiling at her shimmering figure. She was already looking like a proper Hive Drone.

A Hive Drone. She turned the phrase over in her mind and decided she liked it. It was a fitting term for what she was becoming.

Her comm beeped, and she picked it up. Simone was arriving soon. She needed to be prepared to leave.

She dressed herself with a long, ruffled skirt and a vest with opera length gloves. It would serve to hide her new outfit from prying eyes until she could be further adjusted. She wanted to be altered to serve Hive. Becoming a Drone was alright with her.

Slipping her feet into chunky heels, she grabbed a bulky coat and zipped it up as far as it would go. The weather was foul outside today, so her parents wouldn’t think anything was amiss.

She skipped down the stairs, eagerly hoping that Simone would arrive soon. To keep her new state a secret she needed to avoid a conversation with her parents. Nobody else could know what Hive was doing to her.

"You have a good time, now, dear," smiled her mother, leaning out from the kitchen and peering at her bulky jacket. "Make sure to bundle up, it’s going to be cold out there!"

Shit, her mother would find out what she was wearing if she didn’t hurry. She quickly waved an arm and hurried out the door, almost tripping on the sill.

With relief, she noticed Simone waiting outside. She was also dressed in layers. "I am so glad to see you," remarked Zoe, almost skipping as they made their way to the transport capsule. "I was a little worried after last night."

She wasn’t sure how much to tell Simone, because she didn’t really remember what had happened to them at the club. Hive was making her into a Drone, but she didn’t know what Hive wanted with Simone.

Simone climbed into the capsule, her legs moving over the curb. Her leather pants shifted, revealing a shiny material underneath. Zoe’s breath caught, wondering if she had only imagined it.

Keeping her mouth shut, she jumped inside and the automated door swung shut. "Where are we heading to today?" she asked, her voice high pitched and cheerful.

"The Integration Center," said Simone in a monotone, staring straight ahead.

Her hands dipped downwards, undoing her hotpants. She stuffed a finger inside her snatch and moaned. "We are to be Enhanced and Sorted. Our bodies are good material for Hive."

Zoe’s body jerked, hot with arousal. "We are Drones. We serve Hive," she said, her fingers wandering down to her own vagina.

"Good Drone," remarked Simone between gasps, her hips jerking as she moaned with pleasure.

***

Zach paced in front of his castle, trying very hard to figure out what had happened the previous night. He recalled vividly being attacked on a cargo ship, and venturing forth to find out who the invaders were, but everything beyond that point descended into a haze.

He had never experienced that before in VR. Games were meant to be learning experiences, to force the player to fail so that they could do better the next time. If he couldn’t remember how he had failed, how could he improve?

All he had were vague impressions of pleasure and well-being. That made him both eager and nervous to play the game again. He desired to experience that feeling again, but not if he couldn’t remember the experience properly afterwards!

He looked around for his friends, wanting to ask them some questions, but they hadn’t yet checked in online.

Oddly enough, the area around his castle was barren. Normally, it was pretty crowded with avatars from all walks of life working on their bases, transporting cargo and buying and selling goods. Sure, morning wasn’t the most popular time of day to be in VR, but there should be more than just him.

Had he accidentally joined the wrong instance? He checked his interface to make sure, but the description box in the corner declared he was on channel ninety nine in the Concord server, same as always.

Where was everybody?

A gauntleted arm tapped him on the shoulder, and he jumped, spinning to confront his assailant. "Don’t freaking do that!" he yelled, shouting in Nate’s face.

Nate moved his visor up, looking sheepish. "Sorry, mate," he said in his regular voice. "I forgot you don’t like being touched in VR."

Zach looked at his friend in askance. "Are you feeling well? I’ve never seen you look so glum."

Nate twisted his lips. "I dunno, man. There’s something in the air. It just doesn’t feel right. Can you remember anything about our play session yesterday? Did we ever get to meet up in game?"

Zach frowned, concentrating. All he had were vague feelings, but nothing definite. He sighed. "No, I’m not really sure what happened, but I don’t remember seeing you in game at all. What did you do during the tutorial?"

"Hold up, here’s Dave. Let’s compare notes."

Dave was thin and wobbly, his pale skin making him look more like a ghost than usual. His blonde hair was frizzy, as if he had just gotten out of the shower. "Hi guys," he said wanly.

"Okay, now I know something is really wrong. Neither of you are making bad jokes. What happened to both of you yesterday?"

They ran each other through what they could remember of the tutorial mission. Like Zach, Nate had opted for the direct approach, though he couldn’t remember what he had discovered once he had arrived at the hull breach.

Dave had gone for a different strategy. He had scoured the bridge for weapons, finding some damage control supplies in a storage locker, including a heavy wrench. He had holed up on the bridge, hoping to ambush the attackers. That had apparently failed, too, as he couldn’t remember anything beyond the screeching of metal on metal.

"Where does that leave us?" asked Zach rhetorically.

His friends both shrugged.

Zach ran through the scenario in his mind again, mulling over alternate options. "There’s that space suit in the bridge locker," he mused. "Did either of you see a hatch to the exterior of the ship, or a way to get into the locked cargo bay door?"

They both shook their heads. Zach bit his lip. "Well, this time let’s try going in together. We’ll ignore any of the signals the ship gives us and try to find something useful to stop the invaders. Sound good?"

Nate raised his sword and pointed it towards the sky. "We shall chase down the invaders and give them a taste of our steel!"

Zach rolled his eyes, bringing up his interface. He double checked that both of his friends were in his group, then hit the loading button. "See you on the other side!" he shouted as his avatar deconstructed.
The loading box popped up and he paced, impatient. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for the game to load, and he was dropped into the captain’s cabin, like last time.

Nate was on his left, sitting with his legs on the table. He ran his fingers through his brown hair and whistled. Turning his head to look at Zach, he gave him a wink.

Zach rolled his eyes, but was secretly glad his friend was here. Together they should be able to find some kind of solution.

He gestured at his friend and slipped through the door to the bridge, only to find Dave’s short figure exploring the command console.

"Anything?" asked Zach.

"No, nothing more than the first go around," muttered Dave. "Should be something useful here, but I haven’t found it yet."

He grunted. "There’s an odd anomaly on the readouts, though. Manifest says we should be full up, but the first cargo container is registering empty via the sensors." He tapped the console, but the display refused to change. "Could be a malfunction. Or some kind of monkey business."

"Probably a clue," declared Zach. "We should investigate when we have the chance. Keep looking. I’ll check out the rest of the bridge with Nate."

Dave nodded, and Zach moved to the back of the bridge to check out the space suit he had seen on his first play through. The cylindrical container it was mounted in extended from the floor to the ceiling, sealing the suit behind impenetrable glass.

He looked up and down, trying to figure out how to get it out, but there was no obvious mechanism to open the container.

His investigation was interrupted by a loud warning klaxon. "Ignore it!" he shouted. "Keep looking!"

His lips thinned, he looked back at the case, surprised to find that the glass cover had popped open. It must be for emergency use! He pulled at the suit and it tumbled onto the floor in three sections. He peered at them, unsure how to put it on without help.

The dreadful noise of the klaxon silenced, and he looked up, thankful for the relief. Dave gave him a thumbs up and he returned to his investigation. At least now he could concentrate!

Looking inside the cylinder the space suit had been housed in, he spotted a tool chest. Maybe the suit was just a red herring? He tugged the chest out onto the floor, popping the lid open.

The top tray had a sonic modulator, for re-soldering circuits. Hardly a weapon, but could be useful if they found a wiring problem that needed to be solved. Farther down was a collection of socket wrenches, rags, and oil.

Zach wasn’t much of a handyman, so he wasn’t sure how any of this could be useful. He stared perplexed at the collection of tools, trying to imagine what they could be used on.

"Look at that!" exclaimed Nate, sidling up next to him. "Wasn’t there a locked hatch on deck three? We could try to get the door open with these tools!"

Zach’s eyes widened. That might actually work. It was at least worth a try.

"Did you find anything?" he asked Nate. "Anything else we can use?"

"No," said Nate. "The deck is pretty clean, for the most part, unless we want to try disassembling some of the consoles."

Zach frowned. "Are you sure there’s nothing else here?"

"Nothing on the bridge," replied Nate, the grin on his face slowly growing wider.

He moved his hand out from behind his back and presented Zach with a set of pulse pistols. "I found these in a storage locker in the captain’s cabin. There’s enough for all of us!"

Zach wanted to hug him, but settled for taking a pistol. "Damn, Nate, that’s an amazing find! This is exactly what I was hoping for!"

Dave wandered over and grabbed one for himself, his short avatar grinning. "I feel like a proper pirate now!" he declared, posing with the pistol.

The screen behind them blanked, stars replaced with the image of a feminine figure. A chrome helmet took up most of the screen, rouged lips smiling secretly at them. The transparent bodysuit she wore cupped her breasts, showing off her aroused nipples.

"LMS Hermes, you have been interdicted. Material, please stand down and prepare to be Droned."

She spoke with a velvety voice, her lips caressing the words. "Those who obey will find pleasure in Hive. Those who disobey will be converted into those who obey. You may choose pleasure, or momentary pain before pleasure. The choice is yours. Hive accepts all types of Drones."

The screen blanked.

Nate shouted as a spherical ball jumped up out of the ladder near the rear of the bridge. He leaped to the side and snapped a shot at the round robot.

Zach wasn’t sure why he felt familiarity and fear at seeing the spherical object, but he and Dave soon joined in, hiding behind the bridge consoles to take pot shots at the rolling contraption.

He silently cheered when a hole burned through its center and it sputtered to a halt, the smell of burnt circuitry filling the bridge. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as five more climbed onto the deck. They were screwed.

***

Zoe was totally aroused by the time the transport pod arrived downtown, unable to slake her unquenchable thirst. The more she declared her obedience, the higher her pleasure soared, but there was no release. Something deep within her psyche was blocking her from completion.

When the door to the pod opened, she stepped out, dazed and confused. She hadn’t been paying attention to where it had been heading. In truth, she hadn’t cared.

Looking up, she spotted a sign. "Sally’s Beauty Parlor," it declared, advertisements for shampoos and nail treatments taped to the glass storefront.

She stared at the establishment with blank eyes, feeling a little lost, unsure what to do next.
Simone stepped out of the pod, standing next to her. Today, they were almost a matching pair, wearing heavy jackets to hide the bodysuits they wore. They stood upright, stock still as if waiting for new orders.

Perhaps they were. She felt no urge to move.

A few people looked at them curiously as they passed, shrugging as they entered the salon. A warm greeting echoed out from within as a bell rang.

"Welcome, Drones," said a patient voice.

Zoe turned to look to her left, suddenly noticing a woman standing in the alleyway. She wore a shiny chrome helmet, her rouged red lips peeking out from beneath. She was naked but for a shiny, black catsuit that covered her entire body up to her neck. Her breasts were supported by a corset, shiny buckles fastened down the center.

At her neck was nestled a metal collar. It read Fifteen. Did this mean she was the fifteenth Drone? Or the fifteenth Drone to be deployed to this planet?

Obviously, she wasn’t concerned about members of the public seeing her. She wasn’t shy like Zoe and Simone. She was displaying her Drone nature as if it was perfectly normal to do so. As if she revelled in it.

Her brows furrowed, and a shudder tingled her spine. Her eyes followed the curve of the Drone’s body, unable to shake the feeling that she had seen this Drone before. She gasped as her brain finally placed the woman. She had met her last night at the club! The regal woman who had begun her journey into obedience!

She felt a sudden urge to take off her jacket right there on the sidewalk, and bow in genuflection, but she suppressed it. Her strange desires hadn’t suddenly overtaken common sense.

"Come with me, Drones," said Fifteen, gesturing at them with purple nails. She turned and stepped into the shadows of the alley, shoulders rolling with confidence.

Each time she was called a Drone it was if the woman had licked her pussy. Her hips jerked and her feet moved of their own volition, walking towards the alley.

Simone followed right behind, their footsteps synchronizing. The longer this went on, the closer they became to each other. They were becoming one and the same. Drones.

She marched into the alley as commanded, her eyes fastened on the shiny butt of Fifteen. It winked at her enticingly as the other Drone waved her palm over a reader and pulled open a solid metal door.

She stepped inside, the temperature changing from near freezing to a comfortable level. The interior corridor had a cement floor, but the walls were painted a pleasant blue, wood paneling rising from the floor to waist height. A series of hooks decorated the left side of the wall, several of them already occupied with coats.

Without being told, she took off her coat and hung it on the wall. Thinking for a moment, she unclasped her skirt and hung it up with her coat, running her hands up and down her slick chest with pleasure. She didn’t need to obscure her true self in here.

"Very good, Drone. You’re learning fast. Drones do not need to hide. We exist. It is not our job to make others understand who we are. The outside world must adapt."

Fifteen walked past her, balancing on a pair of platform boots. "It won’t be long now, Drones. You’re almost where you need to be."

Zoe wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was eager to find out. She trotted along behind the Drone, wondering what the next step could be. Would she get a chrome helmet, too?

Fifteen brushed through a swinging door, holding it open long enough for Zoe and Simone to step inside. What greeted her there was only more confusing.

At the center of the room was a small circular platform, a cylinder made of shiny steel. Surrounding it in a circle was a series of pods, with semi-circular backs, made out of the same metal. The interior of most pods were occupied, female figures sitting calmly in shadow. From her vantage point, they were mysterious and indistinct.

The light from above was hazy, filtered through blue filters fitted over the lights. It hurt her eyes to stare at it for too long, so she glanced away, wondering what the pods might be for.

Fifteen stepped up onto the platform, gesturing towards the pods. "Welcome, Drones, to your new beginning at the Integration center. You may call me the Instructress. Please take a seat in a pod if you have not already done so."

She looked pointedly at Zoe and Simone, who quickly shuffled to find an empty enclosure. The first one she chose was occupied by a middle aged woman who smiled at her sympathetically. Her skin was tinged blue, but she didn’t speak, staring at Fifteen with adoration.

Fortunately, the next one was empty. The curved metallic shell formed an alcove, giving her room to turn and sit on a curved metallic seat fitted inside. The back of the shell forced her to lean slightly forward. It was an uncomfortable position to sit in, but she didn’t think of disobeying.

Fifteen continued her speech. "Here at the center you shall be sorted, assigned your proper role, and rewarded for your obedience. No effort on your part is required. Simply relax, spread your legs, and follow the given instructions."

She spread her legs as ordered, waiting for another command. From above her head, a screen moved in from the ceiling, suspended on a robotic arm. ‘Calibrating,’ said the screen in blocky green text.

Dots crawled around the exterior of the screen, moving closer and closer in until her eyes focused at the center. It flashed, temporarily stunning her. The seat she was sitting on tipped forward, rocking up under her butt and splitting into two pieces to lock her legs to either side.

She groaned as a thick appendage slid between her legs, spearing her core. A metallic strip of metal slipped around her thighs and clicked together at her waist, securing her against the dildo. More strips wrapped over her shoulders and clicked into the belt, holding her down. She wiggled back and forth, but she was well and truly stuck, forced to take the vibrating intruder.

Sighing, she pressed her hips forward, trying to increase the stimulation, but although the harness had some give to it, she simply didn’t have enough free movement to do anything but slide herself forward a few millimeters.

Oh, but that felt heavenly anyway. She tried again, gasping as her breasts swelled tight against her latex bodysuit. She rubbed her fingers over her trapped nipples, biting her lip as she held back another moan.

She wanted, she wanted, oh, she wanted more. Her eyes opened wide and the screen flashed again, capturing her brain. Her body had reacted exactly as they had expected, and it felt glorious to give in.

Green text was printing on the screen, her mind focused on the words. She must obey. Yes.

The screen went blank, like her mind. A question flashed and her lips moved. She was answering without conscious thought. It happened again.

The questions started out general, slowly becoming more personal. How many partners had she had sex with? How many relationships had she been in? How often did she play with herself? How long did it take for her to orgasm from each play session?

She couldn’t figure out where the questions were leading. She couldn’t think. She could only answer. Tell them everything.

A black mask slipped in front of her face, her eyes now watching the screen through a globe of acrylic. It pressed against her face with a loud thump, wrapping around her head. She breathed in normally, riveted by the display and the dildo humming inside her.

Delicious blue gas entered her lungs, and she wheezed. Staring, she kept her head still as her peripheral vision was filled with a metallic surface.

A single, sharp thought, ricocheted through her mind. She was being enclosed! Locked inside this pod to be made a Drone!

A liquid was filling the pod, warm goo lapping at her toes. As the chamber was filled, her mind was emptied.

Her thighs clenched against the dildo as she answered another question.

***

Susan hummed as she opened the front door. Her mind was blank, as was usual when she returned from an exercise session. It was such a grueling experience that she could think of nothing on the way home.

Usually she would take some time in the living room to knit for a bit to recover, but this time she had a mission to complete before she could relax.

She lifted the box in her arms and headed directly for the staircase, taking the stairs at a quick clip.

"Zach?" she said calmly. "Are you still playing?"

She didn’t want to yell loudly to avoid interrupting him.

When no reply came, she proceeded directly to his door, opening it without a second announcement.

As she had expected, Zach was kitted up in his VR gear, head covered with the black mask and goggles. The rest of his body was dressed in his Encounter suit, black fabric that gave him an alien look.

He seemed at rest for the moment, meaning he probably was reading something. She set her box on the side of the bed and opened the top, revealing a chrome sphere inside.

Leaning over to inspect her son’s crotch area, she unzipped his suit. The genital areas of the suit were setup so that the user could easily attach devices for dealing with waste or for enhancing pleasure.

Susan stared dully at her son’s erect penis, not reacting. She felt no arousal from seeing his cock. Instead, her hands moved smoothly, following her instructions.

She lifted the metallic sphere from the box, setting it over his privates. The sphere opened up, arms emerging from within to grasp Zach’s body. Small metallic tendrils emerged from one side, guiding his penis into a hollow opening in the side of the sphere.

He groaned as his length was sucked inside, swallowed by the robotic creature. It looked as though a large, metallic egg was nestled between his legs.

Susan smiled, taking the box with her as she left the room. As the door clicked shut behind her, she could hear muffled moans from her son.

End Drone Metastasis Chapter Three

Story: Drone Metastasis Chapter Two

Drone Metastasis Chapter Two

Zach sighed, slipping on his headset. He didn't like blowing off his dad, but he had truly been waiting for this game to be released for months. He'd arranged with his friends to show up at seven sharp and he didn't want to be late, or they'd leave him behind and skip ahead.

Nothing was worse than being several levels behind friends and having new content spoiled. He was determined to avoid the inevitable disappointment this time by spending all of his spare hours pushing ahead to the end game.

He was fairly confident in his abilities, and knew that his mother wouldn't bother him. He should have at least four to five hours to himself before bedtime.

As soon as his bedroom door had closed, he had stripped out of his normal clothing and climbed into an Encounter suit. It consisted of a two piece outfit made of synthetic material with a sensory mat built into the interior.

Extending up to his neck, it allowed virtual games to apply realistic forces to his body. Yes, it could be used for erotic stimulation, but not without special attachments that he had squirreled away back at his college dorm room. He didn't want to have that particular conversation with his parents.

The headphones surrounding his ears chimed with a soft bong, a welcome sign that he was about to enter an alternate reality where he was actually good at things. Real life had been a big drag on him lately. Sure, he was doing okay at school, but his social life had been a desert.

That’s why he retreated into a virtual cocoon where he could be heroic. Save a few galaxies and kiss a few girls. Those the game would allow him to romance, anyway.

The social interface booted up, placing him in a form of purgatory. An infinite number of white blocks surrounded him, slowly building and coloring themselves in as his local world loaded.

He was standing in front of his own personal castle, at the foot of a wooden drawbridge. The portcullis was drawn up, leading to a formidable stone fortress complete with circular towers, murder holes, and crenellations.

It had taken him months to construct properly, and he was properly proud with how it had turned out. Simulated characters walked past him, donkeys carrying cart loads of goods inside.

The material they supplied could in turn be crafted into different types of blocks which he could use to expand his personal fiefdom, if he so chose.

This neutral world was a fun place to build, and since there was only a nominal monthly fee to connect, many people spent all of their time in this virtual reality, endlessly building and destroying their own creations.

Not him, though. He preferred playing more structured games, and fortunately he had a couple of friends that liked to tag along. They should be showing up soon… ah, Nate had just spawned in.

He was dressed in a full suit of plate armor, trotting towards Zach in clanking metal. "Mrmglr mrph mmm," he declared as he approached.

"Oh, come off it, man, it wasn't funny the first time," groaned Zach, shifting the bow sitting on his back.

Nate reached up and pushed his visor open with a metallic click. "Mrgl mmph hmm," he said.

Zach rolled his eyes, jumping when someone touched him gently on the shoulder. He spun around, leaping backward a few feet, heart pounding. "Dammit, Dave, that's dirty pool," he declared, shifting his glasses and blinking.

Corrective lenses weren't necessary in VR, but he thought they made him look cool. Accessories were status symbols in the virtual landscape.

"I'm very sorry, I just couldn't resist, you see – you weren't paying attention and I'm a sneaky rogue character and I thought it would be amusing," he whispered, speaking as fast as possible. His mousey face twitched, whiskers bunching furiously.

"Mmph, grph," agreed Nate, growling in his ear.

He threw up his arms. "If you guys want to be assholes, fine. I'll go play 'Drone Galaxy' by myself."

He punched the air, bringing up his virtual interface. He had preloaded the game last week and all he needed to do was hit the button. His finger itched, but he hesitated. It really wouldn't be as fun without his friends.

A heavy hand laid on his shoulder. "Don't be that way, my good sir," declared Nate in a stentorian voice. "Nobody should be forced to adventure alone."

Better. At least he was speaking now, if only in that ridiculous, ostentatious voice.

"Aw, don't be mad," said Dave normally. "We know you've been waiting for this thing to drop for ages." He opened his own interface. "Let's get this party started! See ya after the intro!" He saluted.

Zach returned the salute and punched the launch button. His avatar swirled and rippled, the world vanishing around him. The vibrant landscape was replaced with an orange loading grid in the shape of a box, a yellow progress bar stretching from the floor to the ceiling.

As the yellow bar reached the top, the loading chamber faded out, filling with a black background full of stars, his avatar drifting through space.

A sonorous voice over talked about how bad things had gotten in the galaxy and that there were billions of people crying out for a hero. A standard introduction spiel. He was tempted to skip it, but was glad he didn't when a splash screen floated in from the side.

"Drone Galaxy," it declared with an unsettling wavy spiral, white on black. Silhouetted was a figure of a man kneeling, a leather leash leading to the hand of a woman wearing stilettos.

He knew this game was adult in nature, but like most of these RPGs, he expected that it would take quite some time to get to the good stuff. He'd play around a bit, make some saves, and hopefully would have access to his sex harness at his college dorm when the good stuff came up.

He'd make do if he had to, but not in front of his friends, of course. That would be damn embarrassing.

The screen faded out and a room materialized around him. He'd never been in a ship cabin before, but he had plenty of experience from playing other games. This looked like a standard science fiction setting.

He picked up a pad from a side table and looked it over, clicking it on. He was captain of an automated ore hauler, and from the manifest he was shipping a lot of it. To some place named Praxus III, not that it mattered.

His main goal right now was to break out of the tutorial mission and get to work on leveling up his character so he could find his friends. Talking to them right now would be a distraction, so he didn't bother booting up the comm interface.

Instead, he marched through the sliding door of his quarters, looking left and right in wonder. The bridge was a literal bubble of glass, giving him excellent visibility into the blackness of space all around him, interrupted only by reinforcing structural members. In the back corner near a bulkhead was a cylindrical container containing a spacesuit. Doubtless for external inspections or emergencies.

The detail the devs had put into the game were amazing. Texturing on the interior was high quality and must have taken a large chunk of time and money to get right.

And the exterior! My goodness! He could see thousands of stars out there, and he knew for a fact that they hadn't been procedurally generated, as he recognized some of the constellations from his schooling. They had probably taken a real map of the galaxy and loaded it into the game. Yet another detail they hadn't skimped money on.

Hopefully they hadn't spent everything on making it look pretty. Good graphics were nice, but in his experience the story would make or break the experience.

A warning klaxon echoed around the small bridge, stealing his attention. Adrenaline pumping, he rushed up to the center console.

If he failed the tutorial mission or took forever to get it right, he wouldn't be able to look his friends in the face. He could already imagine the jeers, which simply increased the pressure to figure out what was going on.

He clicked on the interface, pressing on a section next to an area that was blinking. No, that displayed a picture of his ship along with his speed and cargo containers. It looked like his ship was some kind of tug, magnetically connected to the containers it was hauling.

Dropping the load would likely speed him up, but could also fail him the mission. Best to keep that as a last resort.

He clicked back, looking for the source of the alarm, which was beating itself into his brain making it harder for him to think. Intentional on the part of the devs, he was certain.

The touch screen went back to its original display, filled with irrelevant numbers. He peered more closely at the flashing section. Ah, he had pressed the wrong button. He needed to tap the red arrow.

That accomplished, the display blanked and replaced itself with a top down view of his ship, showing an arc in front of him. A red dot was approaching from starboard.

Was it an asteroid? Was he about to hit something? It did appear to be approaching at a fast rate.

He needed to steer out of danger, and quickly. He looked around for controls, spotting a large wooden wheel at a forward station.

A bit anachronistic perhaps, but this was a game, after all. Who knew? It could actually be realistic. He certainly hadn't captained a real star ship before.

He leaped over the center console, dashing to the front and spinning the wheel to the left. The ship lurched, sending him careening to the right.

Of course! The containers behind him were jackknifing, unable to follow his commands smoothly. Perhaps he should have been more gentle? He'd try that next time.

At any rate, the klaxon was still sounding, the throbbing in his temples reaching critical mass. He trotted back up to the center console and cursed. The red dot hadn't moved position. Whatever he had done hadn't been successful. Or it had adjusted course to intercept him.

The ship shuddered, tossing him forward. He barely missed hitting his head on the display, rolling and moaning as his shoulder impacted the steering wheel.

He took a few moments to regain his breath and lick his wounds. At least he wasn't in too much pain. This game wasn't pulling any punches!

There hadn't been a game over, so this must be an expected outcome, or at least there was more he needed to try before restarting.

A tone sounded, followed by a calm voice from the computer. "Autopilot released. Possible cargo damage. Hull breach on deck two."

That didn’t sound good, but he didn’t know what to do. Not a problem. This was a game, and games were all about experimentation. If he failed, he’d try again until he figured it out. If he got stuck, he’d go join a chat server and talk it out with his friends.

He needed to be down on deck two to get the measure of his enemies. Casting about, he located a ladder near the rear of the bridge. There was probably a lift somewhere, but he didn’t have time to find it.

Rushing over, he started to climb down, noting stencils helpfully applied to the walls of the shaft. The next floor down was deck three, which meant the ship must be numbered up from the bottom.

Passing a locked hatch, he continued down, stopping at the next one. This must be it.

He wrapped his hands around a large red wheel, startled when it moved smoothly under his hands. Some would probably complain about the shitty starter vessel, but at least it was well maintained.

He rotated the steel hatch inwards, stepping into a corridor. There were no klaxons here, but orange lights ran in two strips down the hallway, interrupted by doorways.

It was at this point that he brought himself up short, realizing that he was being incredibly stupid. He was about to encounter either a hull breach or some form of invaders. Dressed in a uniform which contained… wait, what did it contain?

He furrowed his brow and rifled through his pockets. A comm unit, yes, that was expected. A wallet with a plastic ident card. Some change. No weaponry, mores the pity. He’d need to look elsewhere.

Curious, he walked up to one of the nearby cargo doors. Large, and imposing, they failed to register his presence. A red light highlighted the periphery. Locked, perhaps, though as captain he should have access to all parts of his ship. Probably just the game designers putting in some guard rails to keep the players focused.

He shrugged and continued on, a niggling worry at the back of his brain that he had missed something from earlier which could have helped him. No matter, he’d look for it next time.

He walked to the next section of the corridor, frowning and stooping down to inspect a collection of metal spheres lying on the ground. They were odd and out of place in the otherwise meticulously clean space ship. Spare supplies?

He picked up one of the globes and examined it more closely. The metallic surface was finely textured, intricate circuitry visible just below the transparent surface. Even stranger. What was advanced technology doing aboard a cargo freighter?

Turning it over, he thought he caught a glimpse of blue light. That couldn’t be a reflection – the orange warning lights couldn’t possibly create that attractive hue. There, at an intersection of several creases of circuitry, there was a hole leading deeper inside the device.

Peering into it intently, he barely noticed as his jaw dropped open and his curious thoughts circled the drain. All he could do was look closer, look at the small amount of light filtering from within the sphere. The mystery here was his to unlock, if he could but figure it out.

Stiff, he failed to notice as two more large, spherical robots arrived, rolling down the corridor. Small port holes opened in their chrome exterior, robotic legs unfurling from inside. Smaller robots rolled along the ceiling, blue liquid sloshing in their bellies.

One by one they dropped to the floor with loud metallic clunks. Zach paid no them attention, so absorbed was he by the fascinating light which had seized control of his mind.

Prehensile tendrils extended from the robot closest to him, wrapping around his legs and levering itself upwards onto his torso. Two of its appendages wrapped around his shoulder blades, moving the heavy orb closer to his face, hiding the globe which held his attention.

Before he could react, a rubbery mask attached to the side of the robot slipped over his nose and mouth, sealing against his head with a sudden suction.

He smiled uncontrollably as blue gas diffused into his lungs, carrying his conscious mind away.

***

Zoe wasn't sure how long she had been dancing. The bright lights swirled back and forth as the band played on. She couldn't make out the lyrics, but they were making her body feel comfortable as she gyrated. Her entire body felt warm.

The thick blue mist on the dance floor made it impossible for her to tell who she was even dancing with, but the slender silhouette indicated it was a woman. A faint frown creased her brow before vanishing. She wasn't like that. She was into guys, but here she was bumping and grinding with a woman. How strange!

The thumping music vibrated her body. She moved to the primal beat, pressing herself against the unknown woman. It felt nice. There was a sense of rightness, as if she was doing exactly what she should be.

Suddenly, the hand grasping hers began to tug her, leading her away from the dance floor. She stumbled, confused. An arm wrapped around her shoulder, helping to guide her up the steps, towards the rear of the club.

Escaping the cloud of mist, her thoughts began to clear just a little. She was being led forward by a blue skinned woman, her left hand clasped as she was urged onward.

"What is going on?" she asked with vague concern, giggling.

A shiny metal helmet pressed against her head, a warm breath against her ear. "You're doing just fine. I'm taking you to a more private setting. Your friend will be joining us soon."

That seemed odd. How did this woman know that she had come with a friend? Her lips moved with apprehension, but all thoughts flew from her mind when the woman's hand wrapped around her neck, keeping her focused. She marched forward, like a doll.

"Good girl," whispered the feminine voice. "You're going to have so much fun!"

Zoe marched, her legs moving robotically. They walked through a set of double doors and down a long corridor, past openings closed off with dark blue curtains. Cool laughter and cheerful voices chased them as they moved on.

The guiding hand squeezed, and she halted in front of one of the curtains. Her curiosity had seized control. At this point she just wanted to know what came next.

The woman moved in front of her and pulled the curtain aside, revealing a small chamber.

It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkened interior, but once they did she blinked with astonishment. Sitting on the back end of a couch was a large, blue skinned woman, completely nude. She was entirely hairless, except for her eyebrows, a sparkling blue gem shining from her breastbone.

Her arms hung negligently over the necks of two nude women who nestled into her body on either side. They weren’t blue skinned as she was, but appeared entranced, kissing and licking the sides of her breasts. One of them mouthed a purplish nipple, gently sucking. The woman grunted, but didn’t shift her posture. She sat up straight, as if on a throne, lending her an air of regality.

In front of the women was a large spherical glass sculpture that took pride of place in the center of the room, the circular sofa surrounding it like a half moon.

The sphere was three quarters full of a blue liquid, bubbles spiraling up from below. Lit from within, it looked similar to a lava lamp.

A hazy blue gas gathered near the top, where it was fed into numerous curled loops of glass. At the end of each loop was a spigot that connected to a woven tube.

As she watched, the two submissive women inhaled from tubes that were coiled over their arms. As they exhaled, a blue mist swirled towards the ceiling, spiraling around the head of the alien looking woman nestled between them. They were clearly smoking the liquid.

They cooed and their bodies relaxed back into that of their mistress, jamming their heads under her arms. Eyes dulled, they looked like they belonged there. Belonged to their Mistress. What power did this woman wield over them?

She felt a faint urge to leave, but after a few deep breaths, it left her. She felt calm, and curious.

"Why have I been brought back here?" she asked, her words a little slurred.

The woman sat up, despite the protests from her groupies. A bright smile lit her rouged lips. "We’ve been watching you, and I find you interesting."

Zoe frowned, her thoughts moving more slowly than usual. "That’s… an invasion of my privacy."

The woman chuckled. "It’s hardly illegal. We watch everyone who enters the club as a matter of course, but you are more interesting than most."

She gestured at the globe in the center of the room. "Would you like to take a seat and try it out? We can discuss this further while you relax. It’s a very exotic mixture, quite difficult to obtain."

The container burbled, bubbles dancing as the gas swirled inside. The two girls took another pull from the canister, groaning with ecstasy as they exhaled.

Zoe stared at her, waiting through a pregnant pause with lifted brows. There was no way in hell she was about to accept mysterious drugs from a stranger, even if her inhibitions were currently deadened.

The woman shifted, sitting up and looking at her with intensity. "Very good. The way you finessed the bouncer, my dear, showed a range of independent thought we’ve been looking for. Your refusal to venture into the unknown via our special mixture demonstrates intelligence. The sort of intelligence that is sorely lacking in much of the general populace. We need people like you."

"To what?" she slurred. "To help you run your club?"

"No, of course not," she said in her velvety voice. "To help us turn everyone into Hive Drones. Hive is actively recruiting for open positions, and I do believe you have the abilities necessary to be a Director. You may have the talent to reach for something higher, but that’s not something we try to ascertain during an initial interview."

Zoe looking around, a strange sensation tickling her neck. "I’m being interviewed?" she asked, not really looking for an answer.

It was starting to dawn on her that she might be in real trouble. This talk of Hive was really making her uncomfortable.

"No," replied the woman, caressing the heads of her two slaves, one of which was actively trying to go for her crotch. "Your reactions so far have shown that you are already acceptable material. You have been Chosen."

Chosen for what? The discussion had finally gotten too weird for her. She needed to find a way out. She turned to leave, but the curtain drew back and Simone rushed though. "There you are, Zoe!" she declared brightly, leaning over to give her a chaste peck on the cheek. "I’ve been looking all over for you, and the staff have been stonewalling me!"

Zoe felt a burst of relief. For once, her friend’s impulsiveness was going to save her instead of getting her into more trouble.

Simone stared angrily at the woman in the back, who raised her hands, shrugging. "I have not attempted to detain her, simply entertain her, but she refuses to relax." Her eyes narrowed and she gestured at the bubbling container, picking up one of the tubes and offering it to Simone with one of her slender arms.

Her hypnotic gem winked as she flexed her arms. "Would you like to give it a try?"

Simone grinned, reaching out for the tip. "How generous of you! This club is the best!" She placed it between her lip, closing her eyes as blue mist flowed through the transparent hose.

"No, wait!" shouted Zoe, reaching out, but it was too late.

Simone grunted, exhaling a large, blue cloud. Her eyes dulled, losing some of their shine. She turned to Zoe, her lips parting. "Exquisite," she declared, sticking the pipe back into her mouth for another pull.

The woman in the back laughed. "So suggestible. She’ll make a fine slave."

She stood up, brushing aside her attendants. She loomed forward over the globe, looking impossibly tall. "It's a common misconception that the most assertive personality is the best fit for the role of Director. With assertiveness comes impulsiveness. That’s why we want someone who thinks before acting. Her sort of obedience is perfect for the common Drone. She is not destined for something greater. Not like you are."

Zoe was only half paying attention to her words, desperately trying to pull Simone away. Simone rebuffed her efforts, taking a third breath of the blue gas. She seemed well and truly caught.

It wasn’t working. She made a distressed noise, fear blossoming in her chest. She didn’t want to leave without her friend, but she didn’t have the physical strength to get her away from here. She’d have to get help by herself.

"Of course, there is also a place for those who act," chuckled the woman.

The curtain behind Zoe drew open and numerous hands seized her from behind.

***
Zach stood stock still, watching the crowd attentively. He wanted to stop, but couldn’t. The interface had been Installed in his throat and he could not disobey the commands being fed to him through the Gestalt.

He had been standing there most of the day, breathing in the blue mist fed to his lungs via his gas mask. An intense concentration had settled over his thoughts, making him extremely focused. He must look for threats. That was his duty.

There, over on the left side of the crowd, near the colonnade. There was a small group that wasn’t looking up at the balcony with adoration. They were shoving aside some of the faithful, forcing them to fall to their knees. Possible dissidents, attempting to infiltrate and find a way to get to his Queen.

A bright blaze of pleasure burst through his mind when he thought of Her, but only for a moment. Not enough to prevent him from doing his job.

He pressed a hand against the side of his throat, activating an embedded transmitter. His mouth clicked in Drone speech. A short reply, and he was away, darting through the entranced crowd, heading towards the disturbance in his slick, black bodysuit with unnatural speed.

They had seen him, of course. It was hard to mistake his lanky figure in black latex. There wasn’t much they could do, however. He had angled his approach, putting him behind a column when they finally got up the gumption to take a few shots at him.

It didn’t matter. He wasn’t the only one who had been sent to quell the intruders. He could hear the clicks of their smooth thoughts in his brain. They all worked as one in Hive.

Feeling their presence, he knew the exact time to round the corner and pull out his shock prod, jabbing one of the miscreants in the side.

Crying out, the man fell to the floor, his laser pistol spinning away into the murmuring crowd. If necessary, Hive could recruit some of the Drones to capture the intruders, but that might damage some of them. Best to let the specialists handle the interlopers.

In this case, he and two other guards had the situation well in hand. The four intruders were disarmed, spherical robots arriving to apply the necessary bondage. They had dressed themselves in latex Hive uniforms to help them blend in, but it was their actions that had given them away. They would be removed and converted, becoming more Hive Drones. Hive was ascendant.

Nobody would touch the Queen. He would see to it.

He smiled brightly inside his mask, almost manic, taking another puff of gas, which soothed and rewarded his mind for doing such a good job.

He stood back at attention, clacking his boots together, scanning the crowd. The other Drones were recovering, reforming into perfect ranks. His eyes rose upwards, taking in the balcony above.

He briefly spotted dark purple eyes that pierced his heart like a dagger. From this distance, they should have been inconsequential, but he could feel a firm pressure through the Gestalt. One arm lifted up slowly, her hand gesturing at him. He was being summoned.

Excited, he took another breath of the gas, which calmed him back down and focused his thoughts. He lived to serve.

Marching robotically through the crowd of other Drones, he lifted his booted heel as he climbed over the threshold of the palace. He paused for a moment, but there was no room in his controlled thoughts for disobedience.

He took in the interior, seeking potential threats. All he saw were marble floors and columns decorated with volutes, the blue texture of the stone having the appearance of ocean waves frozen in place.

He did not recall being inside the palace before, but all his memories from before were hazy. He vaguely recollected being on a ship. Something bad had happened to him, but he took another breath of gas and his concerns floated away.

He was a Controlled guard Drone. He obeyed.

His steps were measured, as were his breaths. The pressure in his head moderated his actions. He turned left, facing a series of lift doors.

His constantly scanning head picked up two more Drone forms, but his mind instantly discounted them as threats. They were wearing the slick, black Drone bodysuit, as he was, breathing the blue gas generated from silver tanks attached to their backs. Guard Drones lining up in front of a lift like him, doubtless following the commands in their minds.

The door in front of him slid open and he stepped inside, turning on his heel to face the entrance. His arms snapped to his sides, his body jolting as the doors closed and the lift began to move.

He felt a thrill at obeying the presence in his head. He could not imagine it otherwise. He was a good Drone.

The lift halted, the doors opening on a spacious interior, a gigantic dome arching overhead. At the top was a circular opening, an image of the sky above projected onto its surface. Sculptures of blue skinned heralds leaned out from the walls, trumpets pointed towards the heavens.

Mounted in the center of the room on a plinth was a large statue of a woman, sitting on a throne with her legs crossed. Carved into the rock was an elaborate outfit, ruffles decorating her neck. He imagined he could see creases in the fabric.

He shuddered as he recognized the likeness of his Queen, desiring nothing more than to drop to his knees and worship Her. He could not, however, as Hive had not ordered that behavior.

He stopped several yards into the expansive room, noting the other two guards to his left who doubtless had left their lifts at the same time as him. An inefficient means of transportation, but very ordered. All as Hive ordained.

A train of Drones arrived from his right, trotting in front of a waist high wall decorated with potted plants. They were led by a command Drone wearing a dark purple latex dress. Her nails shone green, blue eyes flashing as she approached, walking effortlessly on platform boots.

Her doll-like face twisted into a smile as she took in the guards standing at attention, red chevrons decorating her blue cheeks. An intricate collar wrapped around her neck, a small ‘five’ embossed in a rectangular square on the front.

She stepped up to Zach, lifting a delicate hand to rest on his shoulder. He stood still, staring straight ahead. He was calm. He was ordered. He was under Hive control.

"Good, Drone. You and your fellow guards have fully acclimatized to your modifications, spotting and neutralizing a threat to Hive within hours of being Implanted. The Queen is impressed."

Zach did not reply. He had only done his duty as a Drone. It was nothing special.

Five dropped her arm. "Drones are rewarded for good behavior." She snapped her fingers, and the three nude female Drones behind her turned and leaned over the wall behind her, spreading their legs.

A different kind of pressure pushed him forward, his eyes roving over the well built butt of the Drone in front of him. His penis sprang to attention, constrained by the tight latex around his crotch. The clear bulge in the shiny blackness of the slick material demanded to be set free.

"Go ahead," whispered a sultry voice by his ear. "Take your reward."

Without any reason to hold back, he breathed in a satisfied lungful of gas, unzipping his pants. His eyes riveted on his hard length as it extended from within, pointing at the inviting butt of the blue Drone in front of him.

Her thighs flexed and she leaned forward, giving him a peek at her pendulous breasts swinging below her chest. She arched her back, turning her bald head to give him a pleading gaze. He moved forward, touching the tip of his dick against her snatch, the sensations overwhelming his mind.

"Why wait?" asked Five. "She wants you as much as you want her. Drone love is the purest expression of what Hive is."

There was no reason to wait. His body wanted this. The morality of Hive was to love. He wanted to express that love.

He shifted his hips forward, grinning as the blue Drone moaned her pleasure. He wanted to please her. He wanted to please Hive.

He wrapped his hands around her waist, thrusting deep inside. She rocked her hips in coordination with him, increasing their pleasure. He was connected to her through the Gestalt, her pleasure reflecting his.

They groaned together now, his balls slapping against her ass. He was breathing heavily, clouds of the blue gas escaping in great puffs. He pulled the Drone against him, his fingers massaging her rubbery thighs.

On either side of him, the two guards that had entered with him were fucking their own Drones. He could sense their pleasure through the Gestalt as well, enhancing his own. As they worked their Drones, they began to synchronize, fucking to the same invisible beat. Beating as one with the heart of Hive.

It was getting rather intense. He could feel his orgasm approaching, inexorably drawing closer as he increased his tempo. The Drone was milking his cock, clenching her pelvic floor. It was driving him crazy, but his body was not his to control.

He would only find relief when Hive desired him to. He was a Hive Drone.

It didn’t take long for Hive to order his completion, at the appointed time. His moans of ecstasy were swallowed within the darkness of his helmet.

***
Zoe felt really good. Woozy, but good.

She giggled. The drugs she had taken before coming to the club had made her feel as though her consciousness was expanding. The alcohol had removed some of her inhibitions. But the gas… the gas had thrown her completely for a loop.

She had been reluctant to try it at first, but she hadn’t been given much choice. Nude, blue skinned woman had blocked the exit, wrapping their arms around her shoulders. One of them had forced the tip of a hose into her mouth and squeezed her nose shut.

She had done her best to avoid taking any of the strange blue gas in, but after the first taste of it in her mouth, she was hooked. She inhaled deeply, needing more. Between each breath of the blue mist, she giggled, watching the expanding cloud with glee.

Simone was on her right side, sucking down the gas as fast as she was. They were almost in a competition to find out who could inhale the most.

Simone exhaled, a long, drawn out breath, collapsing onto the sofa. "Ohhh," she groaned. "I just can’t take any more. I have to relax."

Her eyes crossed and she laid back, her head resting on the lap of one of the other drugged girls sitting in the booth.

"See how simple that is? Obeying is your natural state. The natural state of all Drones."

Zoe still felt uneasy. "I am not a Drone," she protested faintly, an accursed giggle escaping her clenched lips.

"You may have more will than most, but even that only delays the inevitable. All will become Drones in Hive."

She wanted to protest, but she could see the silly grin pasted to Simone’s face. She was already lost, drugged out of her mind.

Still, she couldn’t give up so easily. It was against her nature.

"You can’t hold us here forever," she said weakly, coughing in an attempt to clear her throat of the gas. "My family knows where we’ve gone. They’ll search for us."

The woman laughed, stroking Simone’s forehead.

"You may be able to hold on longer than your friend, but you can’t leave her behind. She is your weakness. As you watch, you can already feel your resistance draining away. I don’t need to hold you here very long to accomplish my goals."

She realized it was true. She couldn’t even focus her eyes. What had the gas done to her? She couldn’t stop giggling.

"It won’t take that long to mold you into Drone material. You are already prepared for the next step."

She snapped her fingers. "Drones, take these two, Suspend them, and give them Treatment."

The Drones bowed. "Yes, Director," they murmured, taking Zoe and Simone by the shoulders and guiding them out of the room.

Zoe couldn’t stop giggling. She was out of control. As they marched her down a corridor, she started to wheeze, coughing.

The Drones took her by the arms, forcefully carrying her deeper into the club. She lost track of Simone, feeling weak and vulnerable. The mixture of drugs had overwhelmed her body and she had no strength.

She was marched into a darkened chamber containing a screen at one end. A soothing spiral rotated, amid a blue background with puffy white clouds. White noise in the form of waves crashing against a seashore tingled her senses. She could almost taste the salty air.

Her body sagged, the paroxysms of laughter fading as she sank into the firm grip of her Drone escort. She had almost no choice but to take in the display, as it filled her visual field.

In one glance, her eyes were caught in the spiral, following the lines around and around as they pulled her closer to the center. At the terminus of the lines, a large, open eye stared at her, capturing her and holding her fast. She simply could not look away.

She was guided by the Drones into a vertical position, her chin thrust onto a concave shaped plastic cup mounted on a steel platform which had been bolted into the floor. Hands squeezed against her cheeks, forcing her jaw open.

A rubber bulb was shoved inside, a black pump squeezed until the gag inflated to fill her mouth. An arm was swung into place, a phoropter placed in front of her face, resting on her nose. Drone hands flipped the lenses, magnifying the eye in the center of the screen. Locked in place, she was forced to stand and watch the hypnotic display.

Now the hands began to work on her body. Her clothing was efficiently stripped. Boots, gloves, t-shirt and skirt all removed with deliberation. The hands left for a moment, then returned, stroking every inch of her skin.

She felt a coolness spreading from the fingertips of the Drones all around her. They were coating her with a slippery substance, oiling her up. The fingers spread, moving up into the gap between her breasts, rolling around the peaks of her nipples, ensuring every nook and cranny was massaged.

She couldn’t tell how many Drones worked her body. Too many sets of hands roved around for her shattered mind to count. They worked up her shoulder blades, around the back of her neck and over her forehead. Down the backs of her thighs and between her legs.

Her body reacted unconsciously to the assault, but otherwise she could do nothing. She had been Suspended. She could not think. The Drones worked her body as she stared at the spiral, all higher brain functions stilled. The spinning symbol burned into her brain, and she began to imagine that the eye in the center was expanding, filling her mind with its presence.

Peering into her soul, it enforced her utter obedience as the Drones continued their task.

***

Susan hummed to herself as she knitted, stretching her arms and yawning. Jack had arrived home earlier than usual and had been rather insistent.

She was happy to oblige his urges, but it did take quite a bit out of her. Even so, she had told him to go to bed, while she waited up for Zoe to arrive back from her clubbing. It was something she used to do during her daughter’s teenage years, and the old habit was hard to break. A mother still worried.

She heard a noise from upstairs, and frowned. She hadn't seen Zach since he had declared he was going to play with his friends, and usually he would have surfaced by now to get ready for bed. Perhaps she should check up on him.

She set aside her knitting and rose from her easy chair, stepping lightly in her slippers over to the staircase. Staring upwards into the darkness, she could see the thin line of light coming from under his door, indicating that he was still up.

Well, it was high time he put the game away and got some sleep. She climbed the stairs, purposefully leaning heavily into the steps in an effort to avoid surprising him. Catching him in a compromising position wasn't her goal, though it was always cute to see him scramble when he didn't realize she was there. She always pretended that she didn't know what he was up to, but it was a thin fiction at best.

There came more noises from behind the door. He hadn't invited a girl over, had he? Sudden suspicion forced her hand, and she cracked open the door. He hadn't bothered to lock it, so he must not have been concerned about being interrupted.

The light was on, but dim. Zach was on his back, thrusting his hips in the air to an invisible rhythm. Faint sounds emitted from his lips, hands near his crotch.

He was probably watching some porn. Embarrassed, she flicked off the light and shut the door with a knowing grin. It was always somewhat disconcerting to realize that your children had just as much of a sex drive as you.

She trotted back down the stairs, her concerns assuaged. From the looks of it he'd be done soon enough. He was on break, anyway. She'd give him a good ribbing for his behavior tomorrow, though.

The door at the foot of the stairs shut with a click, and she thought of her warm bed, just a few steps away. Fortunately, she didn't have to return to her knitting, as the tell tale creak of the front door rung out through the foyer.

Padding over, her eyes widened in surprise as she saw the bedraggled form of Zoe holding a box. She was staring into the distance, her breath releasing vapor in the cool night air. Black makeup couldn't disguise the odd, blue tinge of her face.

What had Simone gotten her into this time? She walked up next to her daughter, resting an arm on her shoulder and peering outside. She could barely make out the shape of an automated transit pod in the distance, which had doubtless dropped her off.

She guided her daughter inside, out of the cold, the door clicking shut behind them. Backing up to take in Zoe's messy form, she clicked her tongue.

"Look at the state of you!" she declared, taking a handkerchief from her back pocket and mopping up the smeared black makeup on Zoe's face.

Zoe whimpered, but didn't reply, her lips slightly parted. She clutched the box to her chest, as if it was her personal treasure. Her dual ponytails drooped, blond hair frazzled. She looked more like a defeated villainess than a gothic girl.

There was definitely something strange about her skin. No matter how much she wiped, she couldn't remove the blue coloration. It was almost as though her daughter was turning into a blueberry.

Was this the aftereffect of a strange drug? She would have to seek medical advice if it hadn't faded in the morning. And what was going on with that box? She looked down, gasping as her gaze was caught by a label stuck to the top.

She stared at the printed symbol for a long moment, her eyes blinking rapidly. There was something familiar about it, barely recalled. A hidden, locked box in her mind opened up, revealing her instructions. She knew what she needed to do.

She smiled and took the box from her daughter. "Go on ahead," she ordered. "Don't worry, I will take good care of this. You'll need it later."

Zoe marched in front of her, opening the door to the stairs like a robot. Susan followed behind her, hugging the box to her chest. She just knew her daughter was going to love what was inside.

End Chapter Two