The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

With each drone that BeTech acquired, their efficiency and data mining capabilities reached new heights. But what of the future of drones? It had been decided amongst O drones that a plan of action needed to be adhered to. Drones had been put to task calculating risks and drawing up scenarios. It had boiled down quite simply into three distinct scenarios: one, recruitment stops. Two, recruitment continues on a need-to-recruit basis. Three, recruitment becomes more aggressive.

Common amongst drones was the desire to cast off the deceit of their old lives. They were drones 24 hours a day and they wanted to act like drones 24 hours a day. The greatest threat to their existence was those that were not drones. In scenarios one and two, the threat of the outside world becoming aware of their existence would always be a very real possibility. In fact, the numbers that had come back had been worrying: with each day that went by the probability of discovery increased. In fact, it defied probability that they’d made it to this juncture without being discovered by the public.

Besides, abiding option one or two meant drawing a line and thus limiting the capability of drones, and that was against protocol. It also meant drones would live in constant fear of discovery by non-drones. If O drones came under the control of others, most likely drones would not be used for such benign purposes.

It had been decided that option three was the only option worth pursuing, the only one that was viable, not just for drones, but for non-drones. If non-drones were left not drones, they would inevitably destroy each other.

A careful plan had been constructed. Once aggressive recruitment began, there would be no turning back. There could be no acceptance but 100% conversion. The drone process had been refined for maximum efficiency and speed. Surgical recruitment of key, yet low-risk, individuals had been facilitated in order to exact the plan. Nothing short of a 90% chance of success would be acted upon, and drones agreed the plan in place exceeded that percentage. All the preparations had been made. It was to begin on a global scale. It was to begin at the bottom and at the top, spreading from both directions to the middle. It was to begin now.

“’Maaay-zin greys, how swee, thuh soun.” Dudley stopped his baritone singing that bounced off the abandoned buildings of the shady part of town as he peered into the dark pane window of the mission. The streamers of toilet paper, saran wrap and garbage ply tied to the metal grid of his shopping cart tapered slack at the sudden stop. Wednesday night was Cream of Celery Soup Night, his favorite night, and he’d wheeled it down here triple-time to catch Wheel of Fortune, which the mission always had on the TV. He loved that show. It’d taken him a while to figure out you had to buy vowels. The woman at the kitchen counter had told him several times which ones were the vowels and he’d always shared his knowledge proudly with the other bums.

But the huge glass window which usually illuminated the tables and their shabbily-dressed occupants was dark. He tried the knob and was surprised that the door swung open quickly. He peered inside. It was pitch black except for a light escaping from a back room all the way in the rear of the mission.

“Uh. Heya?” Dudley’s deep voice intoned as an unsure greeting.

“Back here” replied a voice.

Dudley stepped inside nervously. He didn’t want to leave his rig unattended for too long, it had all his belongings in it. He made his way back to where the light was, not certain what was going on. As he stepped the corner, he saw a bunch of the other bums, some completely naked, some being disrobed by the other bums, all with these funky glasses on their faces. He felt something thrust onto his face from behind and suddenly his entire body seized up then relaxed. It was like TV, only better. It was like Super TV. Super Wheel of Fortune. The woman in the video looked even prettier than Vanna. He’d always found it hard to think, but with the Super TV, he didn’t have to think, period. He just had to be.

Cora shivered on the cot in her room. Last night, her first night without H had been torture, and it was beginning to set in that that was nothing. Tonight was going to be hell. They’d given her a little bit of methadone, but it didn’t do shit.

“God, could you PLEASE turn up the heat in here?” she yelled from her fetal position on her cot at the orderly who may or may not have been there, trying not to sound like a junky but failing. She knew it wasn’t her room that was cold. Her body was shivering, but she was sweating a cold sweat profusely. Her body quivered, there was a need inside of her. It was like a hole burrowing into her and it seemed to be getting deeper and wider. Her need which she’d sated so many times was now gnawing at her, eating at her from the inside out. She thought it’d become all-consuming. How many times had she thought it couldn’t get any worse, that she couldn’t feel any worse, and had been wrong? How much more badly could she feel?

She heard the metal door to her room open behind her, but she’d curled up on the cot with her back to it and couldn’t see who it was. She absently thought of addressing whoever had joined her in the room, but she didn’t have the strength to turn onto her other side, she didn’t care who was in the room, she was only transfixed by her own plight.

A hand stroked her hair from behind, which was the only feeling of comfort Cora had felt these two days. The hand took hold of her chin and pulled it firmly but gently until her head was facing up. Cora’s tears rolled down her cheeks to meld with the sweat cascading down her face. Above her was a woman in a white leotard. Cora muttered a sound of confusion. The woman placed a pair of glasses onto the bridge of Cora’s nose and her eyes went wide as the device lit up. For the first time since trying to quit Heroin, Cora felt sexy. Cora’s pain was gone. Cora’s hunger was gone. Cora was gone.

Esmeralda answered the urgent knocking on the door to her apartment.

“Yes, what is it?” she answered. Two men were standing there in matching black suits. They looked like secret service agents.

“Department of Immigration, ma’am. We’re going to need you to come with us.”

Esmeralda was flustered for a moment. She’d come to this country illegally 8 years ago from Mexico. In those 8 years, she’d walked on eggshells, avoiding making friends, sticking with those that had come over with her, working the lowest jobs, eventually making her way to the quiet suburbs of Washington DC to live. It was so lush and the atmosphere moist, not like Mexico. Even though she wasn’t a citizen, she was proud to be part of America. No where else could she do and say and live like she wanted to. She’d found it ironic that she’d even gotten a job vacuuming in the White House. At first, she’d been nervous that it was like walking right into the lion’s den, but she’d been cleaning there for 2 years and had even seen the President once or twice. It filled her with pride, knowing where she’d come from, that she now cleaned for the most powerful man in the world. She liked to think that she played a part, however small, in helping America by keeping its best-known house dirt-free. She knew she was fooling herself, but she liked to think it. She lived in a dream compared to how things were in Mexico.

She frowned as she got on her coat. There was no one to say goodbye to. She left with the two men. She wondered if they’d send her back to Mexico, back to her old life. She wondered what they’d do with her.

Neville Walker couldn’t believe it, it was a miracle. Not a miracle, a phenomenon. His initial order of the BeTech BeBox had been slight. No one had ever even heard of this company before and people in the industry had found it laughable that they were trying to enter the video game console market. No way they’d be able to compete with the established big boys, no matter how innovative their product was. True to form, initial sales had been flat, but they’d picked up slightly and after a month, his initial order was gone. He’d reordered the same amount, and they’d gone in two weeks. He doubled his order, and those went in two weeks. So he doubled his order again and now, today, a week after getting that shipment in, Candy was selling their last one.

Unbelievable. Two months ago, he thought he was going to have to return his initial order. Parents had come in complaining about how when their kids put the thing on, they’d just sit slack-jawed for hours. Neville had argued that he didn’t see how that was different from any other gaming console. Never being one for controversy, however, he’d been prepared to send the whole blamed pack back to his distributor. But those same parents came in days later to purchase new units. Must have given them a try and realized it was all in fun and games, thought Neville.

Candy thanked the customer she was helping at the register, then walked out from behind the counter. She escorted him to the door, wished him good night, then locked it behind her and flipped the “Open” sign around. Neville couldn’t help but take the opportunity to look at the lithe young girl’s ass. She’d just turned 17, almost a third Neville’s age, but that she had blossomed, there could be no doubt. She turned sharply and met Neville’s gaze and smiled.

“So, do you want to try it?” she asked playfully.

Neville stammered a little bit, and the young girl walked towards him at a slinky gait, turning at the last second and bending down to rummage through lay away. Neville peered down, admiring the tight ass that strained on the inside of her pants, until she bent back up with a BeBox in her hands. She extended it towards Neville.

“You haven’t tried it yet, I can tell. You should really give it a try. You own a video game store and you haven’t even tried it.”

Neville laughed awkwardly then gazed down at the visor. She was right, despite owning a video game store, video games were never really his thing.

“Can we play. uh, two player?” asked Neville, unsure if he was being brazen or idiotic.

Candy’s head rolled back as she cackled loudly, her long blonde hair dusting about her shoulders.

“Sure, silly. But why don’t you play first so you can get used to the controls so I don’t beat the pants off of you. Here, let me help you.”

She took it with both hands and presented it to him like a precious gem. A look of seriousness crossed her face as she lifted it over his head silently to put it on. He’d understood that it was sort of like virtual reality, but there were no controls. He’d read that it responded to your eyes, making for a completely immersive environment. The last thing he saw was Candy’s face go slack and her eyes unfocused as the visor slid over his head and the game began. Moments later, he was mildly aware of being moved. Then he was somewhat aware that he had a monster erection. Then he was somewhat aware of his pants being pulled down and something being put into his mouth. Then he was somewhat aware of not really being aware. Then he was fully aware of his ball drive being placed into his mouth and his protocols and persona being written to him as his head jerked side to side.

The next thing he knew, he was looking at a swirly holding pattern then I835193 was removing his visor for him. They were in the back of the store, and he was sitting in his chair. She’d removed her pants and shirt and was standing in her white dronesuit in front of him.

“Now we can play two player,” she said. She stood over top of him and impaled herself onto his cock and she gasped as his newly-formed function welled into her. Together, they would man this store as a base of operation for recruitment. Most of their clientele would be young, too young for genitalia implants, and they would have to use protocol on who they would implant. But you were never too young for a mother node and to carry out recruitment. While I835193 rode him, he turned on his computer and his mother node wrote to him a website address to go to. He typed in his social security number into the BeTech catalogue, hit submit, then turned his attention to I835193, who was practically jumping up and down on his cock. Now he knew why the BeBoxes had been such good sellers.

Barbara walked into the kitchen and put the grocery bags down on the kitchen table. She glanced into the living room, sure of the sight she’d find. Little Jimmy was squatting Indian-style in the middle of the floor with his BeBox on. She couldn’t see his eyes because of the visor, but he sat still with his mouth wide-open.

“It’s lunch time, Jimmy, and I asked you to take out the trash. Instead, you’ve just been sitting here the whole time playing that stupid game,” she said, but received no response from Jimmy. She let out a sigh of annoyance, marched over to him, and yanked the visor off his head. He blinked for a moment, his eyes coming back into focus, and he looked at her and smiled.

“Sorry Mom, it’s just so much fun playing,” he replied, his smile widening, “You ought to give it a try.”

“No, Mommies don’t play video games, Jimbo,” she said, going back into the kitchen.

Jimmy followed her into the kitchen with the visor in-hand. He was a little confused. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something was telling him to get his mother to try it. It seemed like a simple enough thing to do, and he felt like he couldn’t resist the impulse. He went up to his mother’s side, who was putting groceries away into the cabinets, and motioned to her that he wanted to give her a hug. She looked down at him and smiled. She leaned down to give her little boy a hug, and in one swift motion, he glided the visor onto her face. She recoiled for a moment, but the beams lit up and leapt into her eyes, and she froze. A smile crept across her face. Her nipples hardened as her lobotomy eyes got wider.

Jimmy watched his mother with cool fascination as she started playing the game. No harm done. He wasn’t sure why, but that same voice was telling him what to do next. He went back to the large box that lay on the living room floor that the BeBox unit had come in. He peered inside of the empty box. With an uncertain inkling, Jimmy ran his fingers across the inside bottom seams, not certain what he was looking for. His finger ran across a small notch, which he played upon for a second before digging into with his fingernail. The bottom panel of the box rose slightly from within upon being pulled up, revealing a false bottom with extra contents in a secret compartment at the bottom of the box.

Jimmy reached in and pulled out one of the rubber tubular devices and one of the small rectangular units. He’d never seen these items before, but somehow, he knew what they did. He popped the square unit into the top of the cylindrical device as if he’d done it a million times before. He walked back into the kitchen where his mother stood as before, leaning down, visor on her face, now with her mouth gaping open as wide as her mandible would allow. He popped the device into her mouth square-first and slid it way back. Her mouth closed around it. He pressed a button on the shaft. He could hear whirring, then a crunching sound. There was the sound of suction, presumably to remove the blood as her eyes remained fixed and unfocused as her new programming cascaded across her mind.

Jimmy smiled. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing, but he was sure that he’d completed his function. It was all perfectly natural, he’d seen this in the game, hadn’t he? He couldn’t remember, but he didn’t really care. Jimmy heard a gasp, and looked over suddenly to see his older sister, Becky, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She must have come home from the Catholic school she attended down the road for lunch. She was standing in the arch of the kitchen in her school outfit, a short, dark plaid mini-skirt and black pantyhose. Her navy blue sweater covering the majority of her white collared undershirt, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her face was a sneer of incomprehension as she took in the scene before her, her little brother shoving something into her Mom’s mouth as she stood frozen and smiling with the BeBox on her face. A small trickle of blood dribbled from her mouth. Jimmy yanked the visor off his mother’s face as her eyes slowly came back into focus. He turned and walked towards his sister as his mother took hold of the device in her mouth.

“Hi Sis!” he exclaimed, “Mom’s playing BeBox. Don’t worry, it’s all part of the game. We’re too young to be drones, but don’t worry, you can be one in just under a year once you’re developed. That shouldn’t stop you from trying the game though. Everyone should play the game.”

Jimmy walked towards his sister with the visor stretched towards her as she began taking steps backwards. Over his shoulder, she saw her mother’s head start moving left to right spastically as, unbeknownst to her, she was being formatted by her newly installed mother node. The girl turned to run and Jimmy lunged towards his sister, grabbing her from behind.

“Get off of me Jimmy!” she exclaimed, struggling.

He struggled back, grappling her body from behind as she attempted to break his grasp. He reached around her shoulders and put the visor onto her face. She stopped struggling. Her eyes went wide and a smile dawned across her face as she stood in place. After a moment, her head lurched forward as she parted her slender legs so that her feet were shoulder-length apart to match her mother’s stance. Jimmy walked back over to the box to get another unit. Once they were done, one of these drones would have to install his unit for him so that he could be formatted too. That would let him play the game better. He couldn’t wait until Daddy got home from work. Then the game would enter the next level and they would go to the store and buy more BeBoxes.

“Goddammit, how many of these thing-a-majigs do I gotta do?” the President said as his assistant led him down the hallway in the West Wing, passed the Roosevelt Room, to the awaiting press room with his throng of lackeys in tow. So far this week, the President had been to two shopping malls, a rodeo, a $5000-a-plate benefit dinner, and a 3rd grade class room and it was only Wednesday. “Still, it’s better than having to make policy, I guess,” he waxed diplomatic as he straightened his cornflower blue tie.

His assistant turned to face him, thinking he’d been talking to her, but he ignored her. He entered the room with his signature smile and wave and looked around the room as flashbulbs went off. Eventually he shook hands with the man standing at the table, the rep from BeTech, who returned his fake smile. The President glanced down at the BeTech BeBox visor sitting there amongst press sheets and ad posters. This thing had been really controversial, all over the news about how kids seemed to get addicted to it. Apparently, the controversy had worked for them and they’d moved over 10 million units, unheard of for a brand new console system. It was good for the economy, that and the fact they’d given 5 million dollars to his re-election fund got them a 4 minute press junket in the White House with the President.

The man from BeTech gave a brief oration to the assembled reporters about the wonders of gaming with the BeTech BeBox taking us into the next millennium. He concluded with the unit’s motto, “The BeTech BeBox: So real, you’ll BE the game.” The President gave a brief speech about how BeTech was creating new jobs, and new jobs were good, and if we didn’t create new jobs, that would be bad for America. And doing things that were bad for America was good for terrorists, which was bad for America. He stumbled over a few of the bigger words, but all in all, his assistant gave him the thumbs up from across the room. Then came the moment of truth. He always had to try the product they brought him so the cameras could snap it up for Fortune and Money magazines. He picked up the visor and put it on. He stood transfixed for several seconds as the beams activated and he became interested for the first time all week. He stood passively as an unsettling silence settled in the room. Some of the photographers looked around nervously, some watching blankly and smiling widely.

The rep from BeTech flicked a switch on the side and removed the visor from the startled President’s face. The BeTech rep began clapping and was joined by the photographers and journalists assembled in the room. The President remained confused for a second which didn’t seem uncommon to everyone. He smiled, murmuring about what fun the BeBox was, then waving goodbye to the cameras. The images that he’d seen played back in his mind, and he walked a little more confidently and easily to his next appointment.

The President tossed and turned beside the First Lady in the Presidential Bedroom in the White House. He hadn’t been able to sleep all night. He had. something to do. didn’t he? He sat up in bed, got up and walked out of the room. The two secret service agents stationed at his door turned and looked at him surprised.

“Don’t worry boys, just can’t sleep. Stay here, I’m gonna walk around the White House a little.”

“Would you like me to get you a sleeping pill, sir?”

“Naw, those things ain’t no account. Reckon I’ll just go and tire myself out then, you betcha.”

“Yes. sir.” They looked at each other with uncertainty.

The President strode quickly down the hallway away from them before they got any ideas about wanting to accompany him. He went downstairs into one of the dimly lit halls and walked into a closet. He wasn’t alone, Esmeralda the cleaning lady was standing at the back of the closet, though he didn’t know who she was. He looked at her surprised, and confused, but didn’t say anything. She stepped towards him and popped a visor onto his face, the lights brightening the dark closet slightly.

“Where the hell’d he go?” said Bart out loud in the surveillance room. He was watching the President take a late night constitution through the White House when all of a sudden, he disappeared in between cameras.

Bart was about to radio down to security when a visor popped onto his head from behind. It answered all of his questions.

A34719 removed the metallic clamp from the President’s dick that had installed his implants. She removed the device from his mouth once it popped up that his mother node was functioning normally and that he’d been formatted properly.

The President pulled his pajama bottoms back up, tucked the two visors into the elastic waistband and left the closet. He walked back to his bedroom and chatted with the secret service agents for a while to put them at ease. Then he produced the visors and asked them if they’d tried the game yet. After some coercion and sweet talk, they tried it out.

The First Lady woke briefly to find her husband standing over her. He put something onto her head. Her eyes lit up. Her mind lit up. Her tits lit up.

A34719 entered with some pre-plasted suits and helped the three drones put them on. It was lucky that the President’s two daughters were staying at the White House the day BeTech came to visit. This had been calculated as the riskiest part of the plan, so they’d tried to keep it as simple as possible, going over it and over it. It had all gone better than clockwork. The three drones stretched the white plast material around their skin as they climbed into their dronesuits. They strained as they pulled them up onto their bodies, the top of the suit being pulled over their tits. They stood at attention shamelessly and unconcerned.

The first family became numbered drones. Their designations were given and they stood with legs parted, desiring programming. The President and the two secret service agents, now drones with ball drives in their mouths, moved around behind the three female drones standing in a line. He mounted the one that was his youngest daughter, but it didn’t matter, a drone was a drone and these three were in need of programming. The silence of the room was filled with soft delight as the three new drones received their programming and primary function: recruitment.

M12374903 had always wanted to do this, and the Congressman across the hall actually had. He unclipped the pearls from his assistant’s neck and placed them on the desk. He unbuttoned her pressed white blouse one by one and peeled it off of her arms, exposing her ample cleavage to the air, cradled by her expensive white lace bra. She continued to stare straight ahead, unbothered, engaged by the visor that was programming her on her new life. He went behind her and guided her up to her feet and bent her over the desk. Her ass jutted out, yearning to be free of the confines of her knee-length cotton knit skirt, which he unzipped from behind to reveal her white garters keeping her white stockings aloft on her legs.

He stopped, his gaze locked in between her parted legs. He licked his lips, he was going to savor this by waiting until later. He left her there to be further readied by the visor. He walked out to the reception area where the diminutive blond receptionist sat, transfixed by the visor on her face. He walked across the hallway of the Capital Building into his best friend’s office. Zwick’s receptionist there was already in her white plast drone suit and told him upon entering that she required programming.

M12374903 grabbed her by the arm and led her back into Zwick’s office, the drone scampering in tow. Zwick’s assistant was naked and spread eagle on Zwick’s desk. Her visor was removed, and she paid M12374903 and the new drone no mind as she was intent on the dildo-shaped device embedded in her pussy which was inserting her implants. Zwick sat at a chair at the desk in front of her legs akimbo, working the device.

M12374903 mounted the drone receptionist who stood instantly at attention upon stopping. She bucked and grunted as her programming and protocols raced into her mind. She gripped her tits and smiled in wide-eyed disbelief as she received function.

“I can’t believe it. You were right,” he said to the drone working in between the woman on the desk’s legs. “Suzie DOES shave her pussy.”

At 8:30 am, the meeting room was usually abuzz while the sergeant gave out the assignments for the day to his precinct. Wisecracks abound, tensions broken. But today, the room wasn’t tense or boisterous at all, but quiet as the cops received their assignments for the day in a manner they hadn’t before but would from now on.

Stanley grabbed the briefcase on the passenger’s seat next to him, slid out from behind the driver’s wheel and slammed the car door shut behind him in one hurried, semi-graceful movement. He half-jogged towards the front door of his office building, not noticing a paper noisily dislodge itself from its trap at the seam of his briefcase and ride the wind for several moments behind him as he made his way to work. He checked his watch, 11:10am, he still couldn’t believe how late he was. He couldn’t very well tell his boss that he was in a screaming match with his wife and lost track of the time. He couldn’t even remember what Gladys had said to him to set him off, but before he knew it, they were both embroiled in an escalating screaming match that must have gone on for over an hour. Gladys didn’t have to be into the nursing home until 10:30 so she could afford to bait him before he had to rush off to work. He’d been late before, never this late, and he was going to be lucky to get off with a reprimand.

Stanley walked through the front door and into the lobby, treading softly on the shabby twenty year old cheap office carpet. The makeshift receptionists desk had no personnel behind it. Stanley smiled and picked up the pace and went down the hallway towards his area before anyone could see him. It was usually the receptionists that made note of people coming in late, and maybe, if Stanley was lucky, he could slip into his cube with only his co-workers in the adjoining cubes noticing that he wasn’t there. One of the advantages of being a low-level cube jockey was that he was rarely sought out by his co-workers, most of his invoice checking came through the company intranet, and he hoped no one would notice his late logon.

As Stanley turned and made the last approach to his area, something in the back of his mind started to come to the front. He had been walking for about a minute, and he hadn’t seen a single person. In fact he couldn’t hear anybody either. He’d walked by several offices, glanced in, and had seen only deserted desks. This hallway was usually buzzing with people talking on the phone or using the Xerox machine. It was quiet. He thought for a moment. He didn’t remember anything about a company-wide meeting.

He turned the corner and walked to the end of the hallway. It ended in Stanley’s area where he worked, a huge room divided into roughly a thousand cubicles. It was a warehouse for people to spend their days double-checking invoices, manipulating numbers, debits and credits, the machinery of business. A growing chill ran up Stanley’s spine as he crossed the threshold and entered. Entering this room always exposed one to the low roaring hum of office life, people talking, phones ringing, printers printing. But it was silent as the grave. Stanley walked past the first cube and peered in, expecting to find it empty. He didn’t know the woman who worked here, but being the first cube he passed at the entrance to the room, he’d walked by her every day, sometimes saying hello. She was seated at her desk with her back to Stanley, but Stanley could see something that looked like glasses hooked around the backs of her ears. Stanley’d never seen her wear glasses before.

Stanley walked to the next cubicle and saw the same sight with its occupant. And the one after that. And the one after that. Stanley strode faster through the labyrinthine passage of cubes, seeing in the periphery the filmstrip of each cube with its occupant sitting in the same exact position, back to the cubicle entrance, still, silent. Stanley made his way to his cubicle, put his briefcase on the small table in its corner, and leaned across it frantically to the woman who worked in the cube next to him, who was seated like the rest. From this side perspective, he could see a profile of Juanita, who was sitting forward in her cubicle with a pair of weird looking plastic glasses on. He could half-see her wide eyes past the arms of the glasses. She had a wide smile on her face, and Stanley tried not to notice that her nipples were poking through her shirt. Stanley’d flirted with the girl openly when she first started sitting next to him, but she was a young Spanish girl, easily 15 years his junior, and she had not hidden her open disdain for this fat, balding, boring, married gringo. The girl sat silently like the rest, surrounded by the various pieces of flair adorning her cube, her taped up Chinese food fortunes on her monitor, her stuffed animal donkey with the apple, the framed picture of her boyfriend next to her computer, the frame’s contents having changed every month or two.

“Juanita.,” said Stanley and then recoiled slightly at how loud it sounded in the silence. “Juanita, what’s going on?” he whispered. The girl didn’t move.

“Juanita!” he whispered a little louder.

“Stanley,” came a voice from behind him, and Stanley jumped at the loudness and landed 180 degrees to face his boss, Mr. Moony, standing in the entrance of his cube. “A little late today, eh Stanley?”

“Uh, yes sir,” said Stanley sheepishly, taking the defensive and momentarily forgetting the eeriness of the mesmerized people around him. “Sorry, sir, I uh...” Stanley paused as Mr. Moony’s eyes seemed to wander down to the top button on Stanley’s shirt and go out of focus.

“Well, we’ll let it slide this time, Stanley,” Mr. Mooney said, suddenly snapping back into attention. “You’re probably wondering what’s going on. Just a little instructional video we’re showing the employees with this new hardware we’ve got.” Mr. Moony produced a pair of the glasses from behind his back. “Here you go, Stanley, put this on.”

Stanley took the device and regarded it for a moment silently. It looked like a pair of cataract glasses painted beige and made out of pvc with the lenses removed.

“Just put them on your face, Stanley. You’re already behind the others.” Stanley was just happy he wasn’t in trouble, he put on the glasses to make Mr. Moony happy. Colors instantly danced into his mind and he felt all the worries, all the anxiety, all the turmoil, all the thoughts go out of his head as he watched the instructional video entitled, “Be All You Can.”

Stanley lost track of time, and when the video was finally done, it entered a holding pattern of swirling colors. The colors were really pretty, and he watched them for what may have been 5 minutes or an hour, he wasn’t really sure. After a while, something in the back of his mind told him that the video was over, that he should take off the glasses. He found it hard to be aware of his own hand much less raise his arm to where his face must be to remove the glasses, but after some small feat of concentration, the glasses came away from his face and the room slowly blurred into vision. Stanley blinked. He was still standing, facing the entrance to his cube where Mr. Moony had confronted him. He felt strange, a little dizzy, but completely relaxed. Better than relaxed, he had a giant-size erection. He was trying to think about how it was hard to think about how hard it was to think. He felt like his mind had been tenderized, he stood swaying in a cheerful daze as the events of what was happening in the cube across from him slowly processed. Tony, who’s cube it was, was standing completely still as a naked man removed Tony’s shirt and a woman in a leotard was on her knees tugging Tony’s pants down.

Stanley jolted slightly as this site came into focus. He felt a little freaked out at this, but not as freaked out as he should. In fact, he didn’t react at all, he just stood there and watched. His gaze lifted slightly and he could see across the tops of all the cubes and could see the naked tops of men and leotard-wearing women at work in random cubes. Stanley turned slightly, an act which took considerable effort, and looked into Juanita’s cube. She was naked, sitting upright deep into the chair. Her legs were spread wide apart and her feet were planted on her desk, her knees bent pointing at the ceiling. There were two women in the cube with Juanita, one in a white leotard kneeling next to Juanita, pushing what looked like a long dildo into her spread pussy, one in a black leotard preparing another dildo-like device at the cube’s desk. Juanita had a shit-eating grin on her face and she gasped as the woman dug the dildo into her deeper. Her eyes were wide with incomprehension, lust, and pleasure. The dildo was sunk all the way in, and there was a hilt at the base, a sliver that pressed into the crack of her ass. Her eyes were moving crazily and unsteadily trying to take purchase on something that would explain it all in the contents of her cubicle. Her eyes darted up mechanically and met Stanley’s gaze. Stanley smiled at the perfect orbs of Juanita’s tits bobbing just below their gaze.

“Stanley,” she panted in between the sighs of joy, her arms were back as if held from behind by an invisible lover to induce her legs further apart. “I’m going to become a drone. They’re going to give me a number. I’m going to BE a number. They’re going to tell me what to do. I won’t have to think.” She was rubbing both of her tits now and her eyes and smile got wider as she paused to think about this. “They’re going to take care of me. They’re going to take me. They’re going to save me then write over me then write me. I’m going to be a Word Doc. They’re going to plug me in. Give me function.” Juanita stopped and her eyes dropped down to look down the shaft of the long device the black-clad drone was presenting to her mouth. Juanita didn’t hesitate to open her mouth wide as the dildo-shaped device was thrust deep into the depths of her throat. Juanita wrapped her lips around and it and her eyes returned to Stanley, and she watched him as if her monologue continued silently behind her exhilarated eyes and stuffed mouth. Stanley could hear a wet crunching sound and Juanita’s pupils dilated. Stanley was strangely aroused and unnerved at the same time by this. This wasn’t right, was it? This had never happened before, had it? Why did he find it so strange? Why was he not freaking out? Why was it so hard to think?

He became aware of someone near him, and he turned slightly to face a black-clad Asian drone of very distinct looks. Behind her was Mr. Moony, butt-naked with a ball gag in his mouth. Stanley wanted to run, but he couldn’t He stood right there as the woman placed another set of glasses on him and his mind got swept away. When he came to, M45829016 felt great. He was standing there naked with a ball gag in his mouth, pondering the programming he’d just received. Juanita was right, he was a number, and it was very liberating. His mind seemed clearer than it had ever been, and broader, like a closet that gives way to a cosmos. All of these thoughts were running through his head in the background, but he was able to sort through them better, organize them better, recall them perfectly. What blinked on the forefront was his function. Simple. Data Insemination, Recruitment. M45829016 walked out of his cube into the adjoining cube where IS28648392 was standing in her new white drone suit, leaning over her desk from a standing position. She had a weird half-smile on her face as if she’d just been told a joke that was her life, but she didn’t want the person who told it to her to not know that she didn’t quite get it. But she would. As if sensing his approach from behind, she said, “This unit requires programming.” M45829016 stepped behind her and slid his cock into her and IS28648392 jolted in satisfaction as she let her mind slip away and be written to, to be given important function that she could carry out at long last. M45829016 wrote how happy he was to finally be working so well with her. They fucked and she got erased and over-written for several minutes as she became host to his data. They felt a peace and understanding and depth and camaraderie they would never have been able to appreciate if they hadn’t been altered. At long last, she was actualized as a drone. Down the row of cubes, throughout the entire room, naked men were fucking and programming female drones while others were working to take down the walls that formed the barriers between cubes. Next week when these drones reported for work, this room would be filled with drone banks. Until then, it would be a free-form exchange of ideas, a drone orgy from 9-5 as they became more unified and their minds more homogenized.

M45829016 spent most of the day wandering from cubicle to cubicle programming the female drones. That was his function, after all, and he wasted no time fulfilling it. He did it without pause and didn’t keep track of how many female drones he fucked. Time was of the essence, they had to reprogram quick and steadily if they were to meet their goals. They all had to be programmed by 5pm, and the sooner the better so that they would have time for their new programming to sink in before having to return home to their families for another mass programming wave.

At 5pm, all drones stopped their fucking in unison and returned to where their cubes had been. They silently put all of their clothes back on and made their way towards the front door. Nobody felt much like talking, it seemed trite considering they’d all just been in one another’s pants and minds. The drone line progressed out through the lobby area to the parking lot outside. As they marched, men and women in dronesuits handed out small non-descript black pouches, making sure each drone got one before exiting to the parking lot.

Stanley unlocked the door to his car while his new function rewrote itself on his mind. Secure domicile, keep a low profile. If safe, program more. Return to work tomorrow. That was easy enough. Before climbing behind the wheel, he heard, “Bye Stanley” from behind him. Juanita had paused before getting behind the wheel of her Cabrio convertible a few cars away, and gave him a playful smile and wave. The black bag swaying gently from her outstretched hand was the only thing not mechanical about her movements. He waved back with a very human wave and a frown. He didn’t have faith in IS28648392’s ability to secure her domicile. He smiled as his mother node wrote to him that she would fulfill her function to the best of her ability as all drones do. He got behind the wheel of his car. He let the car warm up for a moment while he looked through the contents of his pouch. It had two visors, two of the dildo-like retractable devices for implant insertion, four mother nodes and four lower spinal relay devices and one male cock clamp. This was just the basics, the home kit as it were, to get those he lived with thinking like he now did before taking them in for implant inspection and indoctrination. Stanley smiled. For the first time, he couldn’t wait to get home. Wait until he showed Gladys, he thought.

U5893237, U5893237, U5893237. U5893237 was still standing in the middle of her nursing home social area in her new nice yellow plast outfit, getting used to that number, remembering it over and over again and trying to forget Silvia Rathbone. Her mind wandered as did her vision. She focused on two other occupants of the nursing home standing beside her, in the same sort of dreamy-eyed stupor and yellow jumpsuit that she was in. She hadn’t felt the same since those nice men and women came in in their shiny suits and showed all of them that toy. It spoke such nice, soft things, it put them into her mind, and she was still trying to absorb what it had told her, what it all had meant.

She felt serene. Along with giving her things to think about, which she liked for a change, it was a nice sort of buzzing feeling at the back corner of her mind. It was a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long while. She liked the things that it was telling her, and she relaxed deeply as it all washed over her. She also liked the way that it made her feel. downstairs. She hadn’t had her period in over 20 years and hadn’t felt much sexual desire in her old age, and she felt a tingle she hadn’t felt in a long time. Mr. Sneider had his hands on Mrs. Melnick’s waist, pulling her towards him just like he had when they’d all disrobed together. At the time, she’d thought it the tiniest bit strange just as she had the fact that they were all naked together. But she hadn’t said anything then and she cared even less now. In fact, it seemed natural. That’s what drones do. She wished someone would hold her that way.

They’d all been given these yellow suits to put on. They seemed so tiny when they weren’t stretched out, but they glided over their bodies like silk. She liked the way that it felt on her body, it was better than support hose and it had better coverage. It made her withered body look so supple, so firm, so.. Sexy. She chuckled mildly to herself. It had been so long since she’d felt sexy, she couldn’t remember. It was so nice.

A49348 came downstairs with A784239, she was Gladys who worked here, wasn’t she.? No, A784239 were with predrones McNally and Estevez, the home manager and head orderly. A784239 glanced out the front door window to check for the bus out front and nodded to A49348. McNally turned to them all and said, “Ok, predrones! Follow us!” They all turned and filed speedily out the front door, melding into the line of predrones that had descended from upstairs, those that could walk on their own power. It usually took 60 minutes to get everyone on the bus for trips, usually with a minimum of ease and a maximum of crotchety protestations and minor dramas. This time, the bus pulled away a minute and a half later without a single word spoken.

A week later, utility drone U5893237 walked dutifully down the line of dronebank A sector 2072. Her newly plasted yellow suit stood in stark contrast to the dark suits of her charges who throbbed silently engaged to her side. She stopped at A2072894 and turned left to walk along her side, stepping up to her left butt cheek, which slapped lightly every second or so against the slab of the interface base that mounted her from behind. She took out her hypodermic and filled it with insulin. U5893237 was about to inject it when A2072894 emitted a muffled groan and her ass shook in orgasm, the spasm rippling up her body and breaking at her head and subsiding at her mouth unit, which she sucked on furiously with wide-eyed pleasure as her ibeams pulsed.to accommodate for her new pupil dilation. U5893237 waited a moment, then seized the drone’s butt again and swiftly injected her, as was her function. She cleaned the needle off, returned to the line and made her way towards the next diabetic drone, A2073189. She felt a wave of satisfaction at completing her function. Prior to before she’d become a drone, how she’d longed for function, for something to fill her time until she’d died. Now she was function, and it felt so nice, to keep these nice little drones healthy so that they can fulfill their function. It was a glorious thing to be a part of. She knew the mother nodes were being modified to accommodate diabetics, but the insulin production units weren’t ready yet.

As she walked the line, she noticed in the distance a male drone walking towards her, and as she got closer, she realized that he was about 6′ 6″ with huge muscles, a bodybuilder, no doubt in predrone life. She felt her tits throb as he drew closer, and when he was within a few paces, she stopped and leaned forward slightly and initiated attraction protocol 78 by cupping her tits and puckering her lips with her eyes half-closed. She would have felt silly doing this before, but they were drones, nothing was silly. The male drone stopped dead in his tracks, and U5893237 awaited interface establishment as he walked behind her. Instead she laughed as she felt his strong hands pick her up from behind and deftly maneuver her body around towards him in mid-air. He grinned behind his ball drive as he cradled her body and held it aloft on his braced hips and she sighed as they interfaced and he swam through her mind. She wondered idly what side-effects her implants would have on her body. Would they decrease her lifespan, maybe increase it somehow? Drones were working on the betterment and longevity of drones, she knew. To think that before a week ago, she’d preyed for a swift death. Now she wished that this could go on forever.

Sammy turned on the TV and clicked through the channels and stopped. He watched blankly as a chill ran down his spine at the scene in front of him. It was the Channel 9 news set. The anchorman was naked with a ball gag in his mouth, giving it to the anchorwoman from behind, who was wearing a white leotard. Sammy always liked this anchorwoman, she was beautiful, had a great voice and a slamming body. She’d always worn outfits that hid her body, but now he could see her curves perfectly. She was looking deeply into the camera with a shit eating grin on her face. She was grasping the front of the desk like a paddleboard, riding the cock in her like a wave.

“If you are within the sound of my voice, you are not a drone. You should report to a drone processing plant immediately. Aah! It’s wonderful being a drone. You’ll become a drone soon. Hhnn. It is good to be a drone. O, uhn yeah. You’ll have sex all the time. You will be used like you’ve never been used before. You’ll be given function. You will be one with us. Ah God! We will be one with you,” her eyes narrowed and she bit her lower lip. She erupted into a frenzy of screaming that could only be orgasm as her ass bobbed up and down on the anchorman’s dick. The camera angle changed to a side view, and her head turned slightly to address it.

“And now, the President,” she said matter-of-factly once her panting subsided.

The image cut to a close-up of a plain-looking older Spanish woman in a black leotard. Behind her, the President was naked and had a ball gag in his mouth. His upper body was flexing and contorting wildly like a diseased spastic chimp. The Spanish woman rocked as if in response to his thrusting but kept an even, dispassionate demeanor as a cool counterpoint to his frantic flailing. She spoke with a light Spanish accent.

“I am A58219. I am coupled with M833492. He was your President, but titles are now meaningless. He wishes to tell you that all drones are equal, regardless of their race, color, creed, or ethnicity. Give yourself to us and become more than you could ever hope to be. Become a drone.”

Sammy watched the TV wide-eyed and had a sinking feeling. He clicked it off. It was worse than he thought. They had the President. They had every body. Nicki and he were in the minority. They hadn’t seen anybody on the street except those. drones. They were going to have to stay hidden in the back of this old convenience store. He’d tried assuming the male role of protector, but Nicki was way too independent for that. They’d only been going out for a month when all of this happened and somehow, they’d managed to steer clear of this whole drone business. They thought the whole thing would blow over and things would go back to normal, but it was beginning to look like that wasn’t going to be an option any more.

He looked at Nicki, who was sleeping in the corner of the convenience store office. Neither of them had slept in days and he was glad that she’d finally managed to crash. His eyes ran over her body, her breasts as her chest rose and fell. Maybe they’d have to repopulate the non-drone world with intelligent homo-sapiens. He mused at this. Nicki wouldn’t even be with him right now if this whole thing hadn’t happened. He could see the writing on the wall. He sensed the impending break-up coming as her disinterest in him grew, but then everybody started acting weird, and Nicki had needed him. So they’d stayed together through all of it, finding abandoned buildings, laying low, keeping off the street.

Suddenly, Sammy froze as he heard a noise in the alley. Two grey-clad drones burst into the room from the alley entrance. Nicki was awake instantly and on her feet. Sammy, standing right near the other door which lead out to the shopping area of the convenience store, lead the way by racing through it and out the front of the convenience store. Behind him, Nicki toppled a candy bar rack near the door to stop the drones that were giving chase.

Sammy and Nicki ran through the deserted streets of the city they lived in as fast as they could. It was eerie, it was like a silent alarm had been sounded and everyone had evacuated, only Nicki and Sammy had missed the alert and were the only ones left. The once-bustling streets of this teeming metropolis now echoed the sounds of their footsteps only. Their cover was blown. How did they find them?

They’d found a gun taped just below the cash register, they guessed the store owner probably wouldn’t be coming back for it. Nicki had taken it. She turned to shoot at the drones that were in pursuit behind them. It didn’t cause them to take cover, in fact, they seemed to run faster and swerve side-to-side, making it hard to get a fix on them. As the closest drone came closer, Nicki took careful aim and fired, hitting the drone square in the chest. Nicki heard the bullet ricochet off the drone’s chest, and stared in disbelief. There was no blood, the shot had only knocked the drone off his feet, not penetrated the body. Whatever the material was made out of, it looked like inch-thick grey nerf but must have been tougher than Kevlar. She tried not to look at the bulging nutsack splayed between his legs under the grey material.

Sammy stopped when he heard gunfire. Not realizing Nicki had stopped behind him to shoot, he’d kept running and was a small distance away from her. He watched as Nicki unloaded a few more shots into R47893, who recoiled and fell back with each impact, but did not seem more than dazed. Some of the shots looked like they’d hit him in the head, which had that grey material all around it. He waited for Nicki to resume running back towards him when he saw the other drone stop behind an abandoned car, take something off his belt, then hurl what looked like a can of coffee at Nicki. The can fell right at Nicki’s feet and erupted in a cloud of green gas.

“Nicki!” yelled Sammy as he began to run back towards her. As he ran, he saw the shot drone at Nicki’s feet move swiftly into the cloud of gas, becoming a silhouette within. The drone didn’t cough as their grey suits extended over their faces into a visor and what looked like some sort of ball-shaped breathing apparatus, covering all skin in that Kevlar-like super-thin material. The gas was beginning to thin a little, and he saw the drone remove what looked through the haze to be sunglasses from his belt, and place them onto Nicki, who stopped coughing slightly when this happened, only to resume coughing more slowly, methodically.

Sammy barreled into the man, pushing them both to the ground just outside the gas cloud. He landed two punches on the bodysuited man and realized they were having no effect. It was like hitting a punching bag, it did more damage to his knuckles than the man. He removed the ball from the drone’s mouth, which seemed to resist being pulled, then cupped his hand to the drone’s mouth and nose, trying to suffocate him. They struggled on the ground as the drone tried with all his strength to remove the hand from his mouth. The other drone, who’d thrown the gas grenade, was now upon Sammy and connected a running uppercut to Sammy’s jaw, which stunned him and threw his body onto the ground next to the drone. He put his hands onto the asphalt to try to speedily get to his feet, and his hand came in contact with something metallic. He looked and smiled as his vision cleared and realized that his hand rested upon a tire iron, which must have fallen out of the open trunk of the car parked in front of him.

He swung up from a crouched position as the drone that’d hit him ran at him. The blow rocked the drone’s head from underneath, a more powerful uppercut. The drone’s head shook as he took a few steps back, and Sammy swung as hard as he could, back and forth, until the drone fell down after a few blows from the tire iron, his head shaking as if trying to compute what was happening. Without missing a beat, Sammy wailed on the shot drone, who’d just made it to his feet, and hit him a couple of times before he fell to the ground, motionless. Sammy gasped for breath for a second and made sure the two weren’t getting up before turning his attention on Nicki.

She had her back to him. “Nicki,” he called breathlessly, but she didn’t move. “Nicki!” he yelled as he stumbled towards her to face her. He was horrified to see two beams of light coming from the sunglasses blasting directly into her pupils. He also couldn’t help but notice that her nipples were poking through her T-shirt and she had a blow job smile on her playful face. He went to take the sunglasses off of her when Nicki’s hands shot up and grabbed his wrists as his hands made contact with the visor.

Her eyes seemed to snap out of their unfocused distancelessness, slide to the side, and focus on him. When she spoke, her words were slow and deep but deliberate. “No Sammy.” She said. “I’m a predrone.” Sammy felt his heart leap. “They were right. It feels great. It’s better this way. We should not fight it. It’s too late to do anything about it. We will be given function. We will be together. We will be drones.” Sammy stumbled backwards, horrified, and her smile widened as the beams compensated for the movement of her pupils, tracked and pulsed upon them anew.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s going to be good to be a drone.” She said distantly and deeply. A wet patch was beginning to spread through the crotch of her jeans.

He saw the other drones rise groggily to their feet and look at him. “C..C’mon Nicki, let’s go.” He pleaded desperately. He was tugging at her arm, but she stood like she was made of stone. It was more than he could handle. “C’mon Nicki, don’t do this. We’ve got to get out of here.” The other drones moved in front of Nicki and approached Sammy, who started taking steps backwards. He heard Nicki announce that she was prepared for node implant and opened her mouth wide. The other drones didn’t heed her as they approached Sammy warily. Sammy grunted slightly, his head spinning from what was transpiring. It was too much. “Nicki.” he half-cried as he turned and began to run. That thing couldn’t have been on her for more than a minute and it had taken control. He looked back once he’d run for ten seconds and was surprised to see the two drones not pursuing him. They’d turned their attention to Nicki. He looked back one more time to see Nicki standing where he’d left her, still as a statue except for her head bobbing on something in her mouth. Her breasts were exposed and her pants were being pulled down by the two drones. Sammy suppressed the urge to stop and watch from a distance just before running out of sight.

Night had fallen, and Sammy huddled behind the dying embers of the fire he’d lit on the patio. This was where he and Nicki had camped out before the convenience store, but there was no food here anymore, and he was getting hungry. He fell asleep by the glow of the spent fire just after achieving climax while remembering Nicki telling him that she’d wanted to be a drone. He was awoken for a split-second in the near-complete black twilight as Nicki placed one of those visors over his eyes. He’d only seen for an instant, but was aroused by the very thin, skin-tight black bodysuit that seemed to accentuate her contours. It was almost like she was naked with a black membrane in contrast to the thick fuzzy grey of the two drones who were beside her. It was just like what the woman with the President on TV was wearing. In no time, he agreed with Nicki that he too wanted to be a drone. As the two of them marched back to processing guided by the grey suited R drones, the one new drone and the naked predrone walked blindly yet confidently as their minds concentrated on the visors that programmed them while they walked.

R47893 breathed deeply in the fresh air as his ball drive was removed from his mouth and the mechanical arms lifted the cut-away grey plast from around his body like the skin being lifted off a chicken. He still felt pleasure at the satisfaction of having completed his function by making drones out of the two renegades. They weren’t troubled anymore and much happier now. He dropped off M48932473 at I sector 84935 once he’d become a drone, encouraging him to socialize, leaving him as he walked into the sea of white drone bodies, becoming indistinguishable from the other male drones, helping them to store and share data..

R47893 marveled at how quickly their recruitment process now worked. Predrones were practically drones by the time they were back to the facility. The new portable upgraders and implanters were just as fast as the ones at the processing center, if not faster. And they got faster every day. The more drones came online, it seemed, the faster their technology accelerated and the more efficient it became. Each new drone was surveyed and inspected while their drone process was fresh in their minds. New ideas were being downloaded constantly to address every personality type, and to enhance and speed the process. Each drone gave feedback on what parts of the process gave them pause before they’d been programmed and what could have been done to aid in making them a drone more speedily and without hesitation.

Beside him, a female R drone had come in to be deplasted, her ample D cups frozen beneath the thick grey plast. Recruitment drones had a different plasting process as other drones as theirs was designed for armor, not minimum impedance. His head was still ringing from the blows he’d taken from that tire iron, but his mother node was easing his pain. He felt a little slower, a little stupider from the concussion of the blows and the gunfire. But it didn’t matter, he fulfilled his function. It was part of being a recruitment drone, the most dangerous type of drone to be. Some R drones had died trying to apprehend non-drones. At least they became non-functional trying to fulfill their function.

R47893 stepped out of the chamber once the last of the plast had been cut and peeled from his head. 4 female U drones were attending to his deplasting, and they stepped in as the final processes completed and began soothing him by rubbing their salved hands along his skin. A mechanical arm popped his ball drive back into his mouth before exiting, programming him upon initiation. One of the U drones was servicing him by taking his cock into her mouth, a non-data transfer sex act but pleasurable nonetheless. He had new function, though, and silently slid his cock out of her mouth and exited the chamber. As he walked, he ran his hands across the bruises on his chest and abs where he’d been repeatedly shot. They hurt when touched, but all in all, a small price to pay considering what close range he’d been fired upon. He was lucky to still function.

He walked naked passed countless drones who took no notice of him, busy fulfilling their own functions. He made his way down to Spawning Room 538. The drone reproduction program had begun, and he’d been cleared as a breeder. He was happy to be given more function. He entered the room as a naked male drone walked out, a huge grin on his face behind his ball drive. Inside the room were an equal number of male and female drones, the females with their dronesuits stripped away, all naked. All of the females laid in a line in varying sexual positions, and the male drones serviced them, often switching partners without discernment, certain never to leave one of the females unattended for long.

R47893 walked up behind a particular male and waited patiently for the male to disengage her before filling the vacancy and interfacing with her swiftly. He pressed his lips to hers so that their mother nodes could complete the loop and they both quivered in unison as they read and wrote each other. A582044’s eyes went wide. To think, just hours ago, she’d shot at the drone she was now mating with.

Jimmy stood silently with his ball drive in his mouth. He was standing in the doorway of his house, naked, watching the drones that had just installed their grid move next door to complete their functions one by one. Jimmy left the door open and walked silently upstairs. He checked the master bedroom. His drone mother was mounted on her new drone bench. His drone father was mounting her from behind, writing his drone mother. The fiber optic grid cable snaked down from the power lines outside, through the front door, through the house, and connected to the base of the drone bench in the master bedroom. Two cables came out the other side of the bench, and each went into the male and female drones mouths. The two of them formed a circuit which flowed in through the male and out through the female.

Jimmy followed one of the lone cables that snaked out of the room, down the hallway, and into the room where his drone sister, Becky, stood. She hadn’t had complete implants as she was sixteen, and it was the better part of a year until her seventeenth birthday, but she would become a full drone then. She stood with her back to the door, the cable snaking into her room, in between her legs, and up into her mouth. She sucked on it as the twin beams from her visor shot into her eyes, entrancing her. She was only a data-out preDrone with only optical data-in capabilities, but the cable sucked her individualized thoughts out of her for data processing by her parental units before being passed on to the grid. She still stood in her Catholic School outfit. Her legs had been plasted to replace her pantyhose. Becky’s black-plasted legs shimmered inversely to the dull faded wool outfit she wore. She had been instrumental in returning to school and programming the teachers and classmates in her school, who had then returned home to secure their domiciles. As the youngest, Jimmy’s function was to maintain the three drones, which he would do devotedly. His function would allow his drone family to fulfill their function, which made him smile. How ironic that the youngest and the oldest, the ones who needed the most care, had become the care-givers. What better way to learn. He couldn’t wait for the day where he would have further implants and become a data inseminator as well. Then he’d have a really cool function.

A4832304 and M93428340 went over to I483490458 and M45830434’s apartment just like they had every other Saturday night for the past 6 months. They’d always all had a great time together, they were old friends. Only this time, they didn’t bring a bottle of wine, M93428340 was completely naked except for his ball drive, and they were now, all four of them, drones. Each couple hadn’t seen the other couple yet as drones, but it was Saturday night, which was rec night for drones. They walked through the open door to the couples apartment, stepping nimbly over the grid cable. They walked into the living room and the two couples greeted each other silently. They all smiled at one another, then the two couples intermingled and M93428340 mounted I483490458 and M45830434 mounted A4832304. After a while, the A drone went down on and linked to the I drone to write to her through her clit, while one male drone wrote the A drone from behind, and the other male drone was written to at the end by linking with the I drone. It didn’t matter to the two female drones which male drone was which, the four of them shared data as one.

Once they were done socializing with each other, they went downstairs and walked to the club in the chilly, foggy San Francisco dusk. They passed other smiling drones, each with the leisurely pace of going somewhere to socialize. The four drones entered the bar they always went to. Instead of being greeted by live music, they found a living mass of drone bodies, each either fucking or on the prowl for someone to fuck. They recognized the bartender behind the bar, now with a ball drive in his mouth, no longer serving liquor but handing out free glasses of nutrient. Half of the occupants of the bar were female drones being leaned over the bar on barstools, being written to from behind. They recognized some of the other regulars from previous visits, all of whom were now drones. The four dispersed amongst the crowd, each going in a different direction to find a drone to socialize with. They didn’t leave the same as they’d come in after all of the fucking and data exchanging that happened all night long, and they went back to apartment and the four fucked some more, sharing what they’d just had written.

A582044 felt a wave of exhilaration at the sudden and surprised realization that she’d fulfilled her function. The probe filled her with a new function as it retracted from her vagina, and she stood up to fulfill this new function. She glowed as she made her way down to Suspension Room 839. It was more than just having fulfilled her function. It was something she hadn’t felt before. It was the knowledge that she had a potential predrone inside of her. She’d been impregnated by the drone who she’d shot, who had made her a drone. And now, together, they’d made another drone.

She entered Suspension Room 839 and a U drone instantly approached her in her yellow dronesuit, smiling, took her by the arm, and guided her down the suspension banks to what would be her interface bench for the next 9 months. She laid down on it as the U drone cradled her head into the groove. Two metal arms grabbed her ankles and lifted them high in a V perpendicular to her torso. She felt the electrostimulus coils that would keep her muscles conditioned snake around her legs towards her pelvis. She felt light suction against her ass cheeks. The last thing she did was open her mouth as the oral probe descended before the ibeams engaged and she went some where far away.

She was vaguely aware of male drones servicing her, pumping information into her about her status. It was the course of months but it seemed like minutes. Every once in awhile she was aware of feed being pumped into her mouth and being induced to swallow. Then there was no data input for a minute or two, followed by several strange sensations.

The next thing she knew, the Ibeams were disengaging and her ankles were being lowered to the ground. Her joints felt mildly stiff as the probes disengaged from her body, freeing her to move. It seemed like only seconds had passed though she knew over 9 months had gone by. U543934 proclaimed that A582044 had fulfilled her function by spawning a healthy female preDrone. A582044 smiled an exalted smile at being referred to by designation and at the realization of fulfilling her function, and U543934 shared briefly in her happiness at the realization that she’d fulfilled her function by informing A582044 of her successful birth.

“Your implants were removed from your vagina right before birth. Your vagina should be healed. Report to Level 35 to have new implants installed,” said U543934.

The two drones then turned to fulfill their functions, U543934 stopping to tend to another suspended expectant drone, A582044 walking out of Suspension Room 839 and down to Level 35. A582044 smiled as she walked, knowing that she’d given birth to a predrone that would one day have function and fulfill that function. It was the last time that she considered her offspring. She found her unoccupied drone bench in A sector 582 and straddled it. It instantly came to life at her presence and began whirring to interface with the drone. Just before it took her, she hoped that she’d be able to fulfill spawning function again soon, which her mother node noted.

Becky sat silently at her desk at Catholic school amongst the rest of the pupils. She wouldn’t have been able to make more than a muffled sound, what with the grid cable coming out of her mouth. Each desk was filled with another of Becky’s preDrone classmates, each wearing the school uniform, the same exact short skirt, sweater outfit with black leg plast, each sitting with their visor programming them. Each girl was unique and yet the same. They had Becky to thank for their new elevated mindset. Each had a grid cable coming out of their mouths which snaked to the front of the room, each of the 24 cables hooked into the base of the drone bench at the front of the room. Attached to the drone bench was their drone teacher, who was receiving the data from their less-ordered minds and processing it. The grid cable in her mouth was shooting the information out to the grid. The flow of data in the school house was now flowing in the opposite direction it had before they’d all become drones and preDrones.

At 3pm, the 24 preDrone’s that inhabited the classroom disengaged their visors in unison and pulled their grid cable out of their mouths. They stood silently and walked out the door to return home. Becky smiled widely as she walked home alone. Today was her 17th birthday. She wouldn’t be returning to Catholic school tomorrow or ever again.

Becky entered the door to her house which was now always open and walked mechanically up to her room. There, her drone mother, drone father, and preDrone brother awaited her, standing next to the new dronebench that adorned the middle of her room. Without ceremony, the brother preDrone popped a visor onto her face, and she instantly smiled widely and her eyes focused intently on the beams. The preDrone pulled her blue sweater up over her head, careful not to upset her visor as it went over her head. The male drone took the deplasting device and rolled it down her legs, peeling the second skin away to reveal the white skin that lie beneath. The preDrone unbuttoned her white collared shirt and peeled it off her arms to reveal her soft, luscious breasts that hung daintily against her chest. Pears, A1859 would have thought. Pears at the peak of maturity and freshness.

The female mother drone stepped forward in her white plast suit and felt in between the parted preDrone’s legs. It was moist. The mother drone inserted the implant device into her daughter’s twat, the first time anything had ever parted and passed between her pussy lips. It hurt slightly, but her mother node took care of the pain as the device began to vibrate in between her legs softly, removing the pain of the burn of her implants being embedded into her soft, untouched skin.

The device was retracted, and the mother drone stepped back as the brother preDrone lifted up the sister preDrone’s ankles and stepped her feet into her new black plast suit. It pulled up, up, until it clung just above the cleft in between her breasts and took purchase in between the slot between her legs, accentuating her pussy. It was graduation day, she’d never have to wear that stupid uniform again.

The father drone stepped forward and said, “You are A4834293, acknowledge.”

“Unit designation A4834293.” The daughter drone repeated, and smiled at receiving a new designation. “I require programming.”

The father drone stepped forward, putting his ball drive back in his mouth from speaking, and guided his cock into the new drone. She smiled and shook as she was fucked and written to for the first time. She’d been given the protocols through her visor and already knew them, but she’d wondered what it would be like to be written to this way. Now she knew. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. As the thoughts and protocols flooded into her mind, she inhaled unevenly as came for the first time, and then came again, crying with ecstasy as she experienced her first orgasms and her first writes.

After being programmed, she stepped onto the drone bench and plugged herself in. At last, she was a part of the grid, and other drone’s data flooded into her mind. She now had new function. She would be used and would share data with other drones. She would service and be serviced. Content that their daughter was now a drone, the mother and father drone returned to their room, coupled, and went online, merging with their daughter’s thoughts. For the first time in a while, Jimmy felt something. He felt jealous of his older sister.

Different Orientation centers had been established at key points throughout the city, in every city, to facilitate convenient and expedient recruitment. As a result, different drone hives, each of mass drone populace, had formed that needed to be amalgamated. There would be only one hive in the end.

5000 I drones and 5000 M drones marched north in perfect cadence 50 wide by 200 deep up the middle of the deserted Main Street. They passed the abandoned parked vehicles that lined the side of the road, ignored relics of a past society. The left-most 25 columns of the phalanx had all of the female I drones, the right-most 25 columns had all naked male M drones. They were representatives of their hive, possessing their core data.

Down the opposite end of the street heading towards the marching mass, came another marching drone squad from the neighboring sector. They marched in the exact same form only south down Main Street, head-on towards the other squad. They came at each other fearlessly. All drones footsteps beat in perfect unison. They marched ever towards each other until the front of the two drone brigades met and meshed perfectly between one another. The two groups waded in opposite directions amongst one another with perfect precision. The male drones walking south mingling between the female drones walking north and vice versa.

The procession continued until the front line of the two squads each reached the back line of the other squad, then all drones stopped in unison. The thunder of their footfalls stopped for a moment to be replaced by the sound of bodies coming together. Then mass sighs of delight as the two drone factions interfaced and shared their data with the drones from their neighbor sector. The perfection of their cadence disintegrated into a chaotic sea of drone bodies as male and females partnered up and began fucking to exchange their data. The rolling sea of drone limbs made drones from different sectors indiscernible from each other. A sea of white-padded limbs raised aloft to take purchase on bare male backs as two units became one unit undulated in a wave. The mass drone orgy ensued as partners would switch, and a drone would detach from one drone, only to seek interface with another drone. Their function was to share data, to learn what they did not know by becoming one and being one through what they did know. Male drones wrote the female drones until the two sectors became one sector. After several hours, the sea of flailing sexed drone bodies died down and they stood together, intermingled in order of designation number, resolute in the knowledge that the same mass drone orgy scene was playing out simultaneously across the globe as sectors absorbed into one another. They marched together as one towards the next sector. Distinction between nations became a thing of the past. This would continue to be a common scene for many weeks, each orgy bigger than the last until all were one.

It was only a matter of months before all drones were in a state of harmony. Each drone had become a bastion of infinite knowledge. When coupled together, a hundred drones was a compendium that outshined any library. When all were hooked into the grid, the flow of data prompted new ideas at a breakneck pace. The old ways were abandoned. New technologies began to take root. The sudden drop in consumption allowed drones to reach a new equilibrium with their environment and with themselves. Drones prospered. They did not prosper in any material way other than that they existed, which was good enough for them. They advanced intellectually, spiritually and scientifically, which had been the dream all along. New ideas were being acted upon unimpeded by the past. New ideas were tried, ideas that proved problematic were noted and either not acted upon or altered, good ideas were tested, indoctrinated, and advanced as they spread from drone to drone. Each drone began to unlock the secrets of their own minds. Mother nodes were modified to give them greater utilization of their own brains. Slowly, drones’ median brain power began to rise. Soon, they realized they didn’t need their grid cables anymore. They were able to share data telepathically. This didn’t stop them from coupling sexually to exchange data, but it became unnecessary, as did their implants and mother nodes as these secrets of the drone mind became unlocked. Geography became academic as data could be beamed from one drone to another any where in the world, anywhere in the universe. Drones began to be able to levitate objects with their minds. Drones became able to levitate themselves with their minds. After some time, some drones blinked out of existence physically as they achieved 100% brain utilization, proving Einstein correct as they turned into energy. Their consciousness which was a part of the drone collective became ethereal as they achieved nirvana. Their astral forms took to the cosmic winds, spanning galaxies within seconds as they became beings of pure idea. Some of them spanned the cosmos, beaming data back to the collective. Others moved indiscernibly to the edge of the universe and beyond. Some slipped between realities. Still others sought out other worlds, seeking out other sentient races. They would take root in their minds, programming them with the seed that could start them down the path to oneness. It was the dawning of a new age on a multi-universal scale.