Zoe blinked, gradually coming back to herself. The robotic globe she had been staring at was sitting on her dresser, dormant, its programming complete.
She wasn't certain how long she had been standing there in a somnolent state, but it must have been most of the night, as natural light was filtering through the blinds. Even so, she didn't feel tired. Communing with the globe had trained and rejuvenated her at the same time.
She was still wearing her bodysuit from yesterday, but she had no time to change or to admire how the slick rubber cupped her breasts. Her new orders were already in her brain, and she needed to obey.
She slipped her bare feet into her shoes and tied them up mechanically, a pulsing in her mind urging her onwards. She had been Scheduled, and needed to be ready to depart on time.
Leaving the robot behind, she turned and marched down the stairs, her head staring straight. She was a good Drone, ready to obey her orders.
Even so, a sense of familiarity made her pause at the landing and make a left turn, marching into the kitchen. The room was empty, but the lights were on and the vid screen was showing the news.
A faint fanfare sounded and the network logo spun for a moment before vanishing. "Hi, I'm Peach!" stated the first host, eyes staring blankly at the screen as she mindlessly played with her dark hair.
"And I'm Monica!" stated the other host, just as brightly.
Her blonde hair seemed pale, hiding the dark blue skin of her face. One of the blue personal assistant globes sat in the center of the news desk, glowing as the innards swirled enticingly.
Peach turned to face her coworker, her eyes snapping to the globe. The sparkling lights from within spiraled over her face.
"I see that you have spent more time at Sally's Beauty Parlor, the popular new salon downtown!" she said, looking more at the globe than at Monica. "Your skin looks absolutely fantastic!"
"Thanks, Monica!" returned Peach, unfocused eyes staring at the screen. "Hivarian transformations are half off! Come on down and mention my name, and they'll take off another ten percent!"
"What a good deal!" gushed Peach. "I may even take you up on that offer myself!"
She turned back to the screen, her face stretched in a wide smile, caked on makeup reflecting the studio lights. "Now, on to our next story."
"The Office of Local Infrastructure is declaring that deployment of these new personal assistants is a complete success." She gestured at the glowing globe.
"At least ninety two percent of the assistants have been delivered so far, with minimal complaints!"
The screen cut to shots of a community center where elders sat eating at a table, smiling as they asked questions of their globe. One of them nodded forwards, eyes slowly closing before she sat up straight, mouth hanging open. She moved her hands out slowly to touch the globe.
"If you don't have yours yet, be sure to get one!" she stated as the footage faded back to the news desk. "They're going like hotcakes! I can't take my eyes off it!"
Her head strayed from the screen, locking onto the globe as her smile grew. "The local police report that crime is way down. The globes are helping everyone to correct their thoughts!"
"That's right, Peach," said Monica. "Come on down to the salon and get your body altered, too! Society is changing, and it's thrilling to be on the cutting edge!"
They both smiled at the camera as the screen cut back to the logo.
"Don't they look wonderful?" breathed her mother, moving up behind Zoe. "Their bodies are being perfected. I love how supple their skin has become."
Zoe nodded her assent. They were well on their way to transforming themselves into that of Hive Drones. It wouldn't be long before they were properly converted, teaching the populace what was necessary for them to become Drones as well.
She creased her brow. "Where are Jack and Zack?" she asked.
Susan rubbed her shoulders, moving past her to fill the tea kettle. "Jack left early for work. He needs to be Trained."
She smiled gently as the water filled to the top. "He has not yet embraced the Truth. He will understand soon enough."
Turning, she clasped her hands at her waist. "Zach surfaced for a short time so I could feed him, but he is safely back in VR. He also has more lessons to learn. His new loyalty must be assured before he can be taken to the next level."
Her eyes darted to the globe on the table and she smiled. "And I... and I... I am doing exactly as I have been commanded and it feels wonderful."
She palmed one of her breasts and shivered, looking back up at Zoe. "It is time. You must be Installed so that you may Ascend. There are so many more Drones that need your help to find the Truth. I am only one of them."
Her lips curved as the doorbell rang. "Go. Get plugged into Hive so that the future is assured. Don't worry, we will all be together as a family again. Soon."
Zoe felt a thrill as her body turned around, her feet naturally stepping towards her destiny. She didn't need to be told twice. The commands were already unspooling in her brain.
Leaving her mother behind, she stepped up to the door and unlocked it, pulling it open. Outside stood three figures.
Simone was standing in the center of the porch, clad only in her purple bodysuit, smiling wide. On either side of her were two black suited Drones, looking sharp and sinister. Their arms were by their sides, but their gloved hands hovered over their utility belts. Opaque spherical helmets hid their features, with long, articulated hoses rising over their shoulders to silver tanks on their backs. They looked like wasps, ready to sting any disobedient person into submission.
"I have been ordered to accompany you to the Integration center," Simone said, vibrating in place. "There, we will be Installed together."
Zoe nodded her assent. She could feel her programming agreeing with her, and knew that she needed to be Installed. She followed Simone's long strides down the walkway up to a transport pod.
Simone’s beautiful form in her skin tight suit almost looked like it was levitating as she took small steps, escorted by the sleek, black guards. She knew from the viewpoint of any outside observer, she would look the same. She belonged with them. A group of Drones.
Even so, as she climbed into the pod, uncertainty flooded her soul. Why did Hive deem it necessary to send guards with Simone to gather her up? Was she important in some way?
Nonsense. She was just another Hive Drone. An interchangeable cog in the machinery of Hive. There was nothing special about her.
Sandwiched between the guards and Simone, she felt a little uncomfortable. Did Hive trust her and the training they had given her that little? It was impossible for her to conceive of betraying Hive. The thought was enough to make her sick to her stomach.
The raspy breathing of the guards was unsettling. She cleared her throat. "Simone, do you know why Hive sent guards to collect us?"
"I do not," she replied, her face blank as she stared into the distance. "I only do what I am told to do. I am a Drone."
Zoe nodded. "Yes, we are Drones." She shuddered. "That doesn't mean we can't question what is asked of us. I am not a complete robot."
Simone's face creased. "We are Drones," she repeated, shifting her shoulders uncomfortably.
Finally, she turned to focus on Zoe. "I don't know what the future holds, but I feel nothing but comfort and warmth. You have no idea how much I have struggled with depression recently."
Her face lifted into a smile. "That feeling has been taken from me. Hive has removed the wrong parts of me. I can be happy as a Drone. As She commands. I am more free than I was yesterday. Do you understand?"
Zoe swallowed. "Yes, I do."
She had known about some of Simone's struggles, but not how serious they were. If Hive could solve that, Hive could do anything! Joy rose within her chest.
The pod ground to a halt, the door opening onto the curb. She was ushered outside, pressed down the alleyway by the black figures, blue mist leaking from the portholes on their masks.
The metal alley door hissed open, revealing the Instructress, looking regal as always. Her shiny chrome helmet flashed in the sunlight as her shoulder creased, gesturing for them to come in.
As they padded inside, the guards took up stations at the door as it crashed shut. They slipped out of their shoes and followed the Instructress deeper inside.
"Very good, Drones," came the sultry voice from in front of them. "Your initial training is almost complete. You have been sorted and allocated. Once you have finished your next session, you shall be Installed, opening you up to the entire universe of Hive."
Zoe smiled, bliss spiraling from her brain down her neck and into her core. She had pleased Hive. That knowledge was greater than any past accomplishment. Her Drone mind rejoiced.
The Instructress turned right, leading them into a large chamber filled with equipment.
A high ceiling provided room for cranes, pipes, and cables. Large, round tanks had been installed down the center, squeezed between suspended walkways.
The interior of the room was arranged in a grid pattern, duplicate setups laid out in identical stations, each as large as a bedroom.
Every station was attended by five Drones dressed in yellow bodysuits, a chrome helmet topping their heads. They must have been through this procedure many times, as they waited patiently for the new Drones to step forward.
Instructress laid her fingers on Zoe's shoulder and urged her forward. "This is the last step," she hummed. "After this, you will be Installed."
Her hand tightened briefly, then let go. "Hive has given me the privilege of seeing you being tanked. I look forward to watching you come into your own after you have been upgraded."
She made a clicking noise. "Go on, little Drone. They are waiting for you."
Feeling a bit of trepidation, she looked to Simone for reassurance, but her friend was already stepping towards a station, being greeted by a set of Drones. She would have to take this step on her own.
Hesitating, she walked towards her own station slowly, cheering up a little as the attendant Drones flooded out to meet her. The susurrus of their happy chatter greeted her, making her feel welcome.
"Have you ever seen a prettier Drone?" asked the helmeted Drone on her left, pressing her hand over Zoe's hip.
The one on her right licked her lips. "I'd love to share her bed," she said, grinning. "But she probably will be too busy after she's been Installed. This one is meant for greater things."
The crowd of Drones moaned. "Won't you visit us once you've been Integrated?" asked one of the smaller Drones. "We'd love to have you."
Zoe looked over the set of cheerful Drones, wondering briefly how she'd ever be able to find them again. "Sure," she said, not certain if she'd be able to keep the promise. "I'd love to visit you all after this is over. If you still want to."
One of the ones at the rear chuckled with low heat. "Oh, we'll definitely want to spend time with you."
She wasn't sure what to make of that, so said nothing. The Drone touching her hip took her by the arm and pulled her over to a metal chair mounted at waist height.
She turned and sat down, feeling the holes bored into its surface. She breathed deep and relaxed her shoulders, not sure what was coming next. The fear of the unknown was getting to her a little but she knew she was safe in the hands of these Drones. She had to believe. In Hive there was comfort.
"Don't worry," said one of the Drones. "This might feel a bit strange, but once you've been tanked Hive will vacuum all of those worrisome little thoughts out of your mind."
The Drone pulled down on a mask dangling above her head while the other Drones busied themselves with strapping her to the chair. Her arms were locked to the sides of the backrest, with additional straps looping around her chest and waist to keep her in place.
The rest of their preparations went on outside her knowledge, as the black specter of the gas mask slid into place, a thick knob of rubber fitting between her lips. The rubbery exterior folded around her ears, secured in place behind her head with tight straps. There was no provision made for vision, all light blocked by the thick material.
She sucked on the flat protrusion sticking between her teeth as it inflated into an oval ball, forcing her jaw open. A hiss of air came from its hollow center, forcing gas into her throat.
She cooperated, used to this kind of rough treatment, welcoming the soporific feeling the gas provided. Soft noises infiltrated the mask from outside, filtered through soft pads clamped around her ears.
She flexed her chest as cheeky hands groped at her breasts, but they lingered only for a moment before the seat she sat on began to sink into the ground.
The process was slow, but smooth as she was levered down by hydraulics until her feet touched a layer of liquid. Her heart lurched as her chair dropped into the tank, disconnected from whatever mechanism had controlled its descent.
Warmth surrounded her as the liquid swallowed her feet, rushing over her belly and up her chest until she was fully covered. Her only source of air was the mask, her rattling breath gasping for more.
As she sank deeper and deeper into darkness, the lively voices from above faded away. Frenzied breathing smoothed out, warm air from the mask filling her lungs. The sound of her exhalations kept her company as the seconds ticked by.
It wasn't long before the interior of her mask lit up in a dizzying array of colors, a cheerful tune invading her ears. Her eyes followed the pattern, circling the familiar circumference of an eye symbol.
She briefly hoped that Simone was enjoying her experience, but soon she wasn't thinking about anything at all.
***
Jack tipped back his lukewarm coffee and groaned. He had been at work for several hours already, and so far he had learned nothing new. Except the fact that his neck ached from having to watch the vids from such an odd angle.
The worst part of all this was that he needed to run the damn presentation, when none of his guys needed to see it. When upper management failed to police themselves, everyone below them had to suffer for it.
As yet another dumb office skit finished playing, he found his eyes drawn to the idiotic cartoon character telling them that it was a bad idea to tell sex jokes at work. As if they didn't already know that.
The cartoon danced, danced. He shook his head, feeling dizzy. He didn't remember feeling this way when he had first reviewed the material. Maybe he needed some more coffee.
Standing, he turned and slipped out of the room. Nobody would ding him for being gone a few minutes. Hell, he needed to be back there soon to swap to the next brain deadening vid. Why anybody thought this was a good idea was beyond him.
Standing on the catwalk, he looked out over the series of pumps thrumming below him and smiled with pride. It was his initiative that had convinced the city government that they needed to increase water filtration capacity, and he considered the facility to be as important to him as his family.
Every day millions of gallons of water rushed through these pipes from remote reservoirs, treated to make it safe for human consumption. The voracious appetite of the average consumer for their daily water supply kept the system eternally humming along.
There hadn't been a breakdown in weeks, although a third of their capacity was currently down for maintenance. This rotating schedule allowed them to keep most of the system running while taking parts offline to inspect and replace parts as necessary.
Yes, indeed, he had this running like clockwork. He sipped his coffee and frowned at the bitter taste, sighing as he climbed down the metal staircase.
A loud noise attracted his attention. That sounded a lot like one of the doors to the facility, but he had already taken attendance and knew that all of his workers were upstairs. Feeling tense, he rounded the corner and took a few steps, his heart lurching as he saw a group of invaders marching past the pumps.
His eyes had trouble focusing on their figures, the harsh light from above reflecting off their slippery, black body suits. Clouds of blue mist hung around their heads, ejecting from the side ports on their spherical gas masks in synchronized rhythm. Their black gloved hands rested near their belts, and they appeared in no special hurry.
He was ashamed to admit that he froze out of shock, long enough for them to march right up to his stilled form. Clutching his coffee cup in a death grip, he could feel his legs vibrating.
"This facility is now on lockdown," said a muffled voice from beneath one of the masks. "Nobody may enter or leave the premises without permission."
Instead of arguing, he tossed the dregs of his coffee at them and immediately turned to run back upstairs, instinctively seeking help. Most of his guys knew how to turn wrenches, and there was strength in numbers.
Clutching his mug, he took the steps two by two, shouting as the mysterious figures gave chase. Holding his arm in front of him, he smashed open the door to the conference room, taking in the desks and silent men watching the vid.
His eyes flicked over their somnolent figures, heart lurching. None of them had reacted to his sudden entrance, mouths open as they took in the silly cartoon character dancing on the screen.
"Sir. Sir." An iron hand clapped around his shoulder. "It is pointless to resist. Your workers cannot hear you. They have been triggered by the vid."
His eyes automatically moved to watch the cartoon figure, seeing it spin and dance. Spin and dance. There was something strangely attractive about the figure, and the strange eye that was embossed on its chest.
Only the stentorian voice behind him interrupted his momentary daze. "You have been triggered by the vid. The commands implanted by your household globe are now activating. You are docile. You are obedient. You will come with us."
Eyes wide, Jack marched in front of the guard as he steered him out of the room. Escorted down the steps, he was in the midst of a group of the shiny, black suited men. A cloud of blue gas surrounded them in a haze, and his breath caught as he took in a sweet lungful.
This wasn’t right. Something was dreadfully wrong. Why was his pumping station being captured by a group of strangely dressed… aliens? In their outfits, they could literally be anyone.
It felt good to stand still and be commanded, but it went against his inner nature. The conflicting parts of his brain fought each other to a standstill, leaving him stationary.
With every passing moment, however, he could feel his urge to leave increasing, until it bounced up and down in his chest with every swallow. Suddenly, the strange miasma which had been strangling his thoughts lifted, leaving him surprisingly clear headed.
He had to leave. He had to find help.
The urgency became too much for him, and he sprinted for the door, shoving aside the pair of surprised figures standing next to him.
***
Zach was unsurprised to find himself back in VR in the captain’s quarters of the ship. He hadn’t consciously loaded the game himself, which followed the trend of an outside force having taken over his reality.
The situation should have been more frightening, but during his last experience he had been sucked off multiple times. He was starting to wonder whether it wouldn’t be better if he gave up and went along with the flow. He certainly had seen little success trying to find a way to escape the forced encounters.
He wasn’t giving up. No, it was just that all the choices had been taken from him.
He instinctively knew this was a rationalization to make him feel better at having given in to his base desires. Who said lying to oneself wasn’t an effective coping mechanism?
It was better than admitting that, deep down, he really wanted it. That he wanted to fuck his sister’s friend. To do all the nastiest things he could imagine. To ride her hard until she squealed.
It was almost sufficient payment for giving up control of his mind and body to Hive. That thought scared him the most - that all of his deepest held moral beliefs could be bought off by raw sex. Sold so cheaply.
Or maybe it hadn’t been so cheap after all. He certainly didn’t know how long he had been stuck in VR, or how many sexual encounters he had experienced. For all he knew, there had been hundreds of redos required for them to get him into this state.
Whatever they had done, he knew several things: he was horny as hell, and if a Hive Drone showed up right now, he’d fuck them silly, without any reservations. Sordid, but true.
Only, there was nobody else here. It seemed as though he had been dumped into the tutorial sequence of the game once again. Alone with his thoughts.
He squinted as visual snow blocked out his vision. Perhaps not truly alone, after all. Was this going to be another seduction attempt?
The snow faded, leaving behind the confused forms of Nate and Dave dressed in bland spacer uniforms. They looked around in confusion. "Where? What?" they asked, talking over each other.
"We’re back in the game," said Zach blandly, eyeing his friends with suspicion. "Where have you guys been?"
Nate’s portly face turned red. "I’ve been, uhhh, do I have to admit it?"
Dave’s whiskers curled as he leered. "I’ve been fucking a woman dressed in a slick, latex body suit. There, I’ve admitted it."
He turned to Nate. "So have you. Don’t deny it."
Nate raised an eyebrow, but didn’t shake his head.
Zach sighed, and relaxed back in his chair. "Me too. It’s like I don’t have any form of resistance inside this virtual world."
Dave began to pace in the limited cabin space, putting his hands on his hips. "They call themselves Hive Drones." He turned and faced the others. "Do either of you have any idea what Hive is? Or what Drones do?"
Zach shrugged. "Not really." His face clouded. "They do seem to like to take the faces of some of the people I know in real life, though."
Nate’s face went even more red, but he said nothing. Not even a joke. What the Drones had done to him must be really embarrassing if he couldn’t think of anything funny to say.
Zach sighed. "Well, what can we do? Every time we’ve tried to find a way to defeat them, they’ve caught us and subjected us to… fun times."
Dave stopped pacing. "Let’s be honest. They’ve been fucking us. Or we’ve been fucking them, and we’ve enjoyed it. None of us are that innocent."
Nate cringed, but his lips firmed. "That may be so, but it’s not like we’ve been given much choice. They control everything we experience here in VR. Everything."
Zach smacked his thigh and stood. "That’s as may be, but are we going to give up without a fight? Who are we? We’re gamers!"
"Yeah, gamers!" said Nate unenthusiastically, letting himself be drawn into a shaky high five.
Dave twisted his lips, refusing to join the celebration. "What’s your plan?" he asked bluntly. "Nothing we’ve done so far has changed anything."
Zach sighed. "Well, there is one thing. We never did get into the cargo bays on deck three. We have no idea what cargo this ship is hauling. There might be something useful there."
"Useful? Like what?" asked Dave, raising his hands into the air in frustration. "They seem to have complete control over this simulation. They could have stuffed the compartments full of heavy equipment to subdue us, for all we know!"
"That’s possible, yes," said Zach, heading towards the cabin door. He turned to look at his two friends, urgency behind his words. "Our only chance of success is to be unpredictable, though. Have they really thought through all the possible scenarios? Do they have every edge case covered? I’m betting they don’t - but if we don’t make a move now, they’re going to trap us like rats."
Shaking his head and moaning, Nate climbed to his feet and moved to follow Zach. "He’s right. I want to hear what he’s thinking."
His face bright with a smile he wasn’t feeling, Zach continued. "Remember last time, when we found the tool box?"
"Yeah, I do," said Dave, shrugging. "I also remember being caught flat footed on the bridge and taken out without even a reasonable struggle."
Zach pointed at Dave. "Exactly. We were too slow. We have to make a move right away… no time to dally. Let’s grab those tools and get down the hatch, ignoring everything else. I want to see what’s in that cargo bay."
Dave shrugged. "Fine, guess there’s nothing to lose. We’ll probably end up fucked anyway."
"That’s the spirit!" shouted Zach, rushing onto the bridge.
He ignored the beeping console, heading straight for the cylinder housing the space suit. Prizing the cylinder open, he shoved aside the pieces of the suit as they tumbled to the floor, grabbing the tool box and heading for the access ladder.
"Follow me, lads!" he shouted happily, doing his best to climb down the ladder with the toolbox grasped in one hand.
Fortunately, he only needed to descend a few decks. A longer crawl would have strained his strength, but as it was his feet dropped to the diamond plated floor with a happy thud.
He was finally taking action! Arguing with people totally drained him. He'd rather be doing something, even if it was the wrong thing.
He peeked out of the hatchway just in time for the alert klaxon to go off. "Hurry boys, we're running out of time!" he shouted, rushing to the large cargo door.
Placing the toolbox on the floor near the access console, he popped off the faceplate to reveal the nest of wiring inside.
He didn't know much about the lock mechanism, but fortunately he didn't need to - there was a broken wire staring him right in the face. Grabbing the sonic modulator, he played the tip over the frayed strands and they knitted themselves back together.
A loud huffing breath came from over his right shoulder. "Do you think that's going to fix it?" asked Nate.
Zach shrugged. "Probably. I've checked my character sheet and I have technical proficiency."
He turned over the disconnected panel and the hatch started to creak open. "There, now we get to see what's inside."
Dave bent over, moving under the opening door. Zach swallowed, stopping himself from telling him to wait. They all wanted to know what was inside.
He dropped the sonic modulator in the toolbox and grabbed a crowbar, creeping after Dave on tenterhooks. The robotic invaders could show up at any time.
"They're… crates," said Dave in a monotone. "Are we in a first person shooter? What the hell is this?"
He was standing in front of a maze of wooden crates, stacked haphazardly. Several pathways had been left through the stacks, making the hold look an untidy jumble.
Zach stepped up to a crate and jammed his crowbar under the lid, prying the nailed boards upwards with a creak. Nate pulled on the top, setting it aside to gape at the contents.
Zach's breath caught in his throat. The crate was packed to the brim with shiny metallic tanks. Near the top of each silver dome was a black mask, straps bundled neatly into the face plate.
"Shit," mumbled Dave. "Here, let me see that."
He grabbed the crowbar from Zach's limp hands without waiting for an answer. Proceeding to the next crate, he neatly popped the lid off. "Black bodysuits," he murmured. "More Dronewear."
He moved to the next. For once, his face brightened. He grinned and reached inside, fetching a black cylinder. "Shocksticks," he declared, thumbing the button. A burst of electricity spring from the tip.
"Here, catch!" he said, tossing one to Nate, who grabbed it reflexively.
Zach moved forward cautiously and retrieved one for himself. "I don't like this," he said. "If this bay is filled with a shipment of Drone equipment, then that means…"
"It means that you are working for Hive," said a smooth voice, overlaying his. "We all do Her will, in our own ways."
He turned, jerking as he recognized the speaker. She was dressed in an emerald bodysuit, her skin blued, but even though her features had been altered, her knew this was his sister. Or, at least, a passable virtual simulacrum.
She appeared alone, but it was unlikely Hive would send a Drone to confront them without any support. Even one taking Zoe's form.
He scanned the bay cautiously, approaching her slowly with the shockstick grasped tightly in his palm. He hoped it wouldn't come to it, but if he had to he'd stun her with it and make a break for it.
She lifted a hand towards him, palm upwards. "You know the truth already," came her low, husky voice. "You already belong to and obey Hive. You helped to load these supplies, under Hive’s orders. You will help to deliver them. Others will experience the joy of submitting, just as you have."
Dave stepped forward, shockstick extended as he circled to the left. "I don't buy it," he said, looking around nervously. "If we're already Drones, why would you bother coming here to confront us?"
Zoe Drone's lips curled gently. "That's simple. You only need to be triggered. Blue Orchid," she whispered, pretending to blow dust from her hand at him.
He flinched, eyes flickering. "That didn't do anything," he slurred. "I'm not a Drone."
He gaped and his mouth flopped open. His body shook, and he collapsed to the floor.
"Sorry Dave," Nate said mechanically, pressing a shockstick into his back. "We are meant to be Drones. I am already a Drone. We are Drones."
Large spherical balls rolled into the docking bay, flanking Zoe on either side. Their compact bodies unfolded, tendrils extending from within the shiny chrome. The legs jacked up the bodies of the robots until they were suspended in mid air. They looked like large cephalopods, red eyes staring at them from within metallic carcasses.
"I know you too well, Zach," said Zoe. "You don't give up unless victory is impossible. I made sure to bring plenty of reinforcements."
Zach shuddered, backing away. He knew he couldn't get past them, even with the shock stick. With his friends out of action, his only option was to run.
He turned, slamming into a soft body. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him in close accompanied by a deep chuckle. The impact squeezed the breath from his lungs and he was left gasping, the shockstick dropping from nerveess fingers.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" said another familiar voice. "You were quite agreeable in bed earlier."
The digital Simone squeezed him tightly with seemingly inexhaustible strength. His legs turned to jelly and he sagged into her arms.
"Do not worry," she said in a cheerful voice. "Hive has been training you for your new role. Your minds have been harnessed, transforming you into guard Drones, ensuring Hive’s successful conquest of this planet."
She chortled in his ear. "You may still reject this consciously, but deep down you have already accepted this fact. Your training is almost complete."
She shifted, turning him around to face Zoe as if he was as light as a feather. His virtual sister stepped forward languidly as if she owned the place. The laces on her platform boots swayed with her hips as she approached his two friends.
Lifting a leg, she placed a boot on top of Dave's groaning body and leaned over him. He tried to shift his butt, but only succeeded in falling on his stomach. Two of the large, spherical robots walked over next to them on their stilt legs, looming electronic watchdogs.
Zoe folded her hands across her chest and tapped a finger against her upper arm, looking at them speculatively. "The lessons you learn in this virtual world will carry over into what you consider the real world. What is real here will be real there as well."
Nate stood still, staring at her with adoring eyes, ignoring Dave who was still struggling to get up. One of the robots made a metallic chittering noise and he froze.
She paused, considering. "Clearly, a few of you need some more training. One more session ought to do it."
She snapped her fingers and two more Drones entered the room, dressed in orange latex. "These two will service you and ensure that you are thinking the right thoughts."
Both of the new Drones had small spheres nestled in the curve between their breasts. One of them curled her arms around Nate and kissed him, smiling as his eyes were drawn to a sudden sparkling flash coming from her cleavage. Soon, he was mesmerized by the robot, which had opened a porthole to reveal its swirling blue innards.
The other Drone kneeled on top of Dave, rolling his body over. She leaned low to emphasize her curves, his mind soon wrapped up by her hypnotic robot. She bit her lip and tugged at his pants, revealing what she was truly after.
Stunned at how quickly the situation had devolved, Zach didn't even try to struggle. Not that it would have done much good, for Simone's arms were like iron bars.
Simone swung him about, turning him to face the open crates. "Now, put on the clothing and accept your new slave persona."
Simone kissed him on the cheek and let him go, gently pushing him towards the box. He hesitated for a moment, looking at the shiny outfits. Faint noises of pleasure echoed behind him.
There was no escape. This was inevitable.
He reached for one of the suits, shivering as his fingers contacted its silky surface.
End Chapter Five
As much as I like a bad endings, I also like good endings, and due to the total domination of the Hive, and that I'm a sucker for an underdog, I'm totally rooting for Zach and Jack.
ReplyDeleteWell, I suppose you could consider the ending I'm planning good, from a certain point of view. :)
DeleteAnd... I can't say anything more!