Good Afternoon Alison
Acknowledgements to Ezracarmichael, on this site, who wrote Compliance. This story is based in his world with his permission.
Thanks to my editor thegoofyproofyreader who made many improvements; any remaining mistakes, of course, are mine.
Tags: science fiction, mind control, blow job, non consent, non-consent
This is a single-part story, about 15000 words long. The story contains little sex.
This is my second story so feedback is very welcome.
+++ Alison Awakes
A drone walked to the room for its 16:00 appointment, seeing the nameplate 'Ms. Julie Mikrub' on the office door. It raised its hand and knocked on the door, and when called in, sat down.
Julie Mikrub spoke the trigger phrase, and the drone's mind was filled with blankness, except for the phrase 'Me love you long time.'
"Good afternoon Alison, Can you hear me?"
I was aware I was sitting on a chair; I seemed to be in an office. I felt as if I had just woken up. Why was I here? What had I missed? The woman in front of me looked familiar. I couldn't remember her name. It was 'Julie,' something. I had just been speaking with her. I didn't know her but she was interviewing me; I remembered that.
"Sorry, Julie. I zoned out for a second. I must have dozed off. Can you repeat that?"
"Nice to see you are awake Alison. You might be feeling a bit confused or worried. It's natural to feel confused as you collect yourself. Just sit calmly in the chair and I'll give you a minute or two." The woman, Julie, had a calm intonation.
I sat and looked around. The room was dimly lit and the blinds were down so the sunlight outside striped the windowsill. Julie was sitting opposite to me, beside a desk. We were both on comfy chairs with a small table between us. On the table were two glasses and a bottle of water. The desk was tidy, with a folder on it, a tablet, and a computer screen and keyboard. It looked like Julie's desk because pinned on a board behind the desk was a family portrait of her, two children and a man; a certificate saying she was a psychologist; and a long service award from Nokamura Industries, saying 10 years.
I looked at myself. I was wearing leggings and a loose tee-shirt, both grey. My arms were bare and white. I thought I was tanned before. My neck felt cold, which was surprising; reaching up I found I had short hair.
Julie was looking at me sympathetically. "It's a lot to take in, just relax and breathe, Alison." Julie smiled and continued. "You are just waking up; you have been out of communication and unconscious for about 2 years. This is perfectly normal. Do you remember me now, and why you were seeing me? Most people recall it after a couple of minutes."
I still felt completely zoned out, like a blank sheet of paper. "What have I missed? and why for two years? Am I ill?"
"My name is Julie Mikrub, I'm a psychologist employed here at Nokamura Industries. My job is to reassure you and help you back to your normality. I'm good at my job, and you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Well, nearly absolutely nothing to worry about, but we will get to that."
"I thought you were interviewing me. But I'm not dressed for that, and I feel different."
"I was interviewing you. I last spoke to you two years ago, and that was the final interview before you became a drone, under a limited term contract. Now do you remember me?"
The last interview had been in a different office. Julie had been talking about my contract and confirming I had signed it. We had agreed I still wanted to do it; that is, become a drone for two years. I had stood up, then she had given me a cup of something and told me to drink it, then we had walked out to a processing room. I had sat on a couch and looked at a screen.
I was shocked, but then suddenly felt I accepted this. Of course I had been a drone. I know exactly what a good drone had to do. I thought of my drone truths... but I could not recall them. I felt panic for a second and started up.
"Alison!" Julie said firmly, "Don't panic. You are a person. You have no access to any truths. You have no owner. You are a good person. Feel calm and ground yourself now!" The last was delivered smoothly and with a commanding voice. I sat up straight, put my feet together, closed my eyes and felt my body centred on the chair, connected with the ground. I started relaxing my arms and legs. I started feeling my feet, the pressure of the ground on the soles, the slight background sensation in my toes. Concentrate on the feeling in your feet, feel them relaxing. Slowly I took in a breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. I knew this pattern.
I continued concentrating and meditating for a couple of minutes, controlling my breathing. Julie left me in peace. I could hear my breathing. I could hear a clock on the wall, ticking. Some cars went by outside. Then I opened my eyes.
"I'm OK now. I remember."
"Well done, Alison, asking someone to meditate a bit usually works. That was a trigger we put in. Don't worry, we've not given you many triggers at all, and they are all to help you readjust. We'll tell you about all the triggers, so you are not surprised. We did tell you that you would have some helpful behaviours at the end of the contract."
"OK, I guess." I paused but Julie seemed inclined to wait for me. I felt calm and normal now, except for a hole in my memory. I had been warned about this. My bank balance would be healthy now, and I would go back to my last year at university and finish my degree in languages. "What have I been doing, as a drone?"
"You were leased out to several owners. Here is the history of our leaseholders," She turned around and picked up the folder. As she lifted it I could see my name 'Alison Lindsey Tzure' in black letters, together with my drone designation "TL205202201-2Y." The designation was entirely familiar. She opened the folder and started reading. "The drone was leased to a distribution warehouse for six months, on a rolling monthly contract. It collated orders and packed items in the packing department. Drones are preferred to people in that work environment because the work needs accuracy and it's fast, repetitive work. It got a top grade while working in the warehouse and the report here says it was a happy drone too. Then it was a postal worker for eight months, a rolling monthly contract again. Again, it's the sort of work that drones are good at: being flexible, working steadily and not being distracted. You will find that you still have great legs from that job; in fact, it hardly had to do any gym workouts to keep in shape." She smiled at me.
I thought that she was good at keeping the 'you' and the 'it' separate. Lots of experience probably, since the certificate said she had been doing her job for at least ten years. All that did not sound bad at all. Drones often did the type of work which a person could do, but a focussed person could do faster or better; and a drone needed minimal accommodation. That was fine, and what I had signed up for.
She continued, and it was a shock to me, "Then it was involved in an accident. It was in a road traffic accident, not its fault. It had a broken collar bone and arm and some facial scarring. It was in sick bay for two days, then it was used in our factory, training other drones and general duties for four months. During that time it had plastic surgery for the scarring, and in accordance with the contract, it also had some improvements to its nose and lip filler."
I gasped. She got up and went round to her desk, opened a drawer, got a mirror and passed it to me. I looked and then my mouth fell open. How could they do this to me! Then I shut my mouth and looked again. My dark hair was shortish, shiny and hung to just below my ears. My nose was different, but attractive. My lips were quite nicely fuller. I turned my head from side to side.
I looked up at Julie. "Could I have a bit more light here?"
She nodded and raised the blinds. I blinked a little as the sun shone in; then I stood and went over to the window. I looked even better in the sunlight. This was great. "I'm going to need makeup, but this is both surprising, and a good outcome."
I went to sit, and as I did I suddenly asked. "Hold on, is this another trigger you put in?"
"No, Alison, this is not one we put in."
I was suspicious and frowned as I looked at her. I shouldn't frown it will put lines on my face, and it's such a pretty face.