Prologue
She sat calmly in the alcove, her mind tuned in to the low, background hum. It was lyrical and soft, the melody deceptively simple. Her mind was wrapped in a blanket of warm cotton, butterflies nibbling gently at the edges.
Calm, she waited without hurry, her vision obscured by a visor that sat inches from her eyes. Around her body clung a thick, black bodysuit, dark as the night, shined to a mirror finish that emphasized her ample assets. Her legs were angled perpendicular to her torso, knees and legs forming a perfect ninety degree angle. Each foot was clasped tight in thick, highly polished black platform boots with chunky heels.
Deep in her vagina was buried a thick, knobby dildo, the rubbery mass pulsing very slightly with the beat of Hive. Welded to her head was a black, shiny ball that absorbed light, hiding all features of her drone self.
The world appeared desaturated through her helmet, but for a series of colored lines that swam through the air. The lines danced joyously, entwining and embracing. They didn't exist, not really, except as a figment of her imagination.
She wasn't really sure what the lines meant. They were probably a product of a vestigial portion of her brain which was still trying its best to interpret her surroundings.
Not that the drone cared, of course, for it had long ago discarded any pretense of thinking for itself. She had given everything to Hive, pushing her uniqueness into the gestalt.
In return, it had filled her to the brim with its thick, warm obedience. She had been cored, invaded, and pacified, remade to serve Hive's purposes. Now, she waited patiently to be activated, made to do whatever would serve Hive best. There was no need to worry, or feel concern. There was only silence, and the colors of obedience.
Her impassivity dragged on interminably. At regular, controlled intervals, she exhaled softly and her eyes blinked, pussy rhythmically clenching at the dildo as she stared into infinity. The colors pranced in a step formation and the chorus stirred, the tone of Hive taking on a slightly different timbre. Unexpectedly, the colors drained from her sight and the hum dissipated, the dildo becoming a still block of rubber.
She was not concerned,
incapable
of being concerned at this turn of events. She continued to sit, even though Hive had temporarily withdrawn from her body. She had truly given up everything she had, her body remodeled into an empty husk to be filled and commanded by others.
This state of affairs continued on for some time, but like a tsunami breaching the shore, Hive's presence crashed back into her, filling her completely. Her body involuntarily gasped, a simple reflex that had no conscious control behind it. Her mind was being repurposed,
restructured
.
The soldier drone stood up smoothly, the pleasure instrument slipping from her vulva. She reached down and zipped her body suit shut, the rubbery material now forming an impenetrable second skin over her body.
She cinched her belt tightly around her waist, various tools secured to its shiny rubber surface. The fact that Hive was upset did not bother the drone. She had been given a task, and she would accomplish it automatically without thought. Anything else was irrelevant.
Maneuvering on her platform boots, her body steered itself to the pulse of Hive. Feet lifting, she moved forward at a measured pace. Harsh, white light shone from fluorescent fixtures mounted to the ceiling, gleaming over her alien, rubber form.
Hands at her sides, she marched forward, head and neck fixed in a rubber helmet and collar. The walls glistened around her, covered with a shiny goo and rubbed to a glossy finish. The substance had been excreted over every possible surface, left to dry into a slightly pinkish polycarbonate.
Stomping over the solid surface, she listened to the music of Hive as it steered her through the nameless corridors. As she continued on, the amount of the substance coating the walls slowly appeared to subside, its thickness gradually trailing off. Her pace never varied, steady motion unhurried, but determined.
Her steps echoed, the coated walls absorbing little of the sound energy. As she rounded a corner, the hallway opened into a four way intersection, corridors leading off to other areas of the complex. She stopped abruptly, standing dead still at the center of the intersection, rubbery arms angled slightly at her sides.
Her body obeyed an unseen authority, waiting expectantly for something to happen. Rhythmic marching began to throb in her ears, a soldier approaching from both ends of the hallway.
The sister drones were dressed in identical rubber outfits, approaching her position in lockstep. They both reached her at the exact same time, each one executing a perfect turn to match her stance with the grace of synchronized swimmers.
Lined up in a row, they were identical, unidentifiable slaves, waiting in silence for Hive to make them do its bidding.
Three pairs of shiny black boots lifted in unison, their masked heads now leaning forward into the synchronous motion. They moved as one, a picture of perfect obedience, each controlled with precision by Hive.
Goose stepping with effortless grace, a perfect line in motion, they continued their march down the hall, each leg lifting easily to a forty five degree angle before dropping back to the floor.
Now that they were together, they moved forward quickly, driven by an unseen urgency. Despite their rapid forward motion, their breasts didn't bounce, as they were tightly held in place by their clinging suits. The coating on the walls continued to get thinner, the dried gelatinous ooze giving way to clear, clean white walls.
Finally, they reached the end of the hallway, a large doorway with a striped red outline blocking the exit. When they came within a few paces, both halves parted simultaneously, sliding smoothly and silently into either side of the wall.
As the drones emerged into a new corridor, their environs changed drastically. Instead of the slick, coated walls, a generic workplace greeted them, offices lining the walls.
The first drone stopped two paces outside the doorway, the second four paces, the third, six. Then, they executed a sharp right face. The drone that lagged behind began to march again, picking up the second drone when they were parallel to each other.
In the same manner, the third drone came back into step with the first two. There was no conscious thought necessary to execute this formation - Hive controlled them absolutely, directing their bodies to do precisely what was necessary to complete the maneuver properly.
The door slid shut behind them, the green light above turning a solid red. They continued to move, the corridor opening up into a larger office space, white walls replaced with the dull gray of a cubicle farm. Phones rang in the distance, the chatter from faint conversations overlaying the sound of their footsteps.
From time to time, an office worker would stand up and look at the scene they were making - three identical faceless automatons dressed in shiny black rubber, marching straight through the office to an invisible beat.
No comments were made by the observers, and nobody moved to stop them. A few of the workers looked nervous, sitting back down in what appeared to be an attempt to hide. Some of the others were excited, lust lighting their faces instead of fear.
The soldiers ignored them all, continuing their progress to the other side of the room. They entered another corridor, this one looking nicer than the one they had exited from.
The pale, white walls had been replaced with warm wooden paneling. Steel office doors gave way to solid oak masterpieces with golden handles. Thin, wall length windows meant more for show than for privacy ran to the end of the hall, a solitary door at the end providing the only entrance and exit.
Although still noticeable, the march of the drones on the carpeted hallway wasn't nearly as loud as in the hallways with the plastic-looking coating. This meant that as they approached, a conversation from the conference room was clearly audible.
"I said no, and I meant no, Mason!" The feminine voice was loud but carefully controlled.
There was some inaudible speech, then harsh laughter and a loud male voice. "You're too naive! I've been planning this acquisition for months! Have you even been paying attention to who owns your stock?" More gloating laughter followed.
Ignoring this diatribe, the soldier slaves continued their march to the end of the hallway. The businessman, his back to the windows, was so occupied with his rant that he took no notice of their muffled footsteps or the motion out in the corridor.
