Drone Metastasis Ch. 07

"Your body was seriously damaged. When you were retrieved, you had lost large amounts of blood, and your ribs had been crushed. Hive was forced to tank you to avoid complications."

She lowered a shoulder, exposing her soft curves. "It was all rather traumatic. They weren't certain whether your mind would work the same way again. I hate losing Queens, so I decided to intervene."

Her red lips pursed. "I've done what I can, but now it's up to you. What do you want? Do you wish to remain a Queen? Or is the responsibility too much for you? If you abdicate, I could reassign you as a menial Drone. If that's what you really wish."

She paused her playing, holding up a finger as Q-Three's body tensed. "Think for a moment, then answer. A hasty response will do you no good."

Q-Three looked down, examining her fingernails. She hadn't really thought about it, but she didn't need a lot of time to come to a conclusion. The answer was clear. She couldn't really imagine any other outcome.

There was one thing that was still bothering her, though. She stopped her fidgeting and shot the woman a fierce stare. "Who are you, really?"

"The One to whom you've pledged everything. Hive accepts you. All of you."

She felt warmth. Everything was going to be okay.

***

I-Forty Four hummed as she loaded the waffle maker, the soothing sound and smell of cooking batter infiltrating her nostrils.

Her daily routine hadn't changed much since she had accepted her new role. Every day she went to a reinforcement session to get some exercise in and commune with other Drones.

The gossip she heard about the spread of Hive filled her with joy. In just a few days, all of the major institutions had been locked down, and remaining citizens were being rounded up to be converted. Some small pockets of resistance remained, but they were immaterial.

She had been approached multiple times on her way to and from the exercise sessions by these kinds of people in hopes of recruiting her. Lacking blue skin, dressed like a regular citizen, it was easy to mistake her for one of the unconverted.

She always accepted, playing the clueless housewife until she had been brought deep enough into the resistance cell to locate all participants. One simple call later and Hive would round them all up, sending them to a conversion center. She had broken three groups so far, and was currently working on a fourth.

While fulfilling her duties was paramount, she was still the homemaker, taking care of her family. She found both roles utterly satisfying.

It was difficult to know whether Hive had programmed her that way, but she only cared about the outcome. She was a useful member of Hive.

She was thankful to Hive for everything She had done for them. After the accident, One had personally visited them via hologram to ensure that they were okay.

Q-Three had been in the hospital for several weeks, but with Hive treatments she had recovered sooner than they had expected. The rest of the Drones in the truck had gotten luckier, having only superficial scrapes and bruises.

All was well, now. They were together again, as One had promised.

She released the waffle iron, tweaking a nipple and moaning as she pried out the golden brown bread. While at home, she preferred to dress in modified Dronewear, a revealing red outfit built with half cups to allow her to expose her breasts for pleasuring. Her crotch was also open, thick reinforced rubber strips wrapping around and under her nethers.

Blue was the color of Hive, but Red was the color of infiltrator Drones. For obvious reasons, she was unable to wear the dress in public, but here at home she was among Drones.

M-Fifty Six certainly liked her dress. Her husband used its open design to fuck her at every opportunity. She loved the feeling of helplessness and neediness it engendered, reinforcing the public persona she played.

A rough hand ran over shoulder, a warm breath and kiss at her neck. A thick cock prodded between her legs.

She smiled and continued her work, leaning over slightly to improve access. Pouring more batter, she sighed in pleasure as the hard rod was inserted into her vagina.

It was all she could do to concentrate as she was reamed from behind. Possessive hands squeezed her breasts, fingers groping and rolling. Her hands shook as she plated another cooked waffle, batter dripping everywhere as she refilled the iron.

"Fuck yes, give it to me. I'm your Drone."

Her husband chuckled, redoubling his efforts. "I thought I'd give you a little extra protein for breakfast," he declared.

Moving his hands down, he ran them over her belly. "I want to fill you up with another Drone for Hive."

She could feel him through the Gestalt, his raw desire and pleasure overwhelming her. She knew he was doing the same, the looping feedback enhancing the experience for both of them. One of the gifts of belonging to Hive.

Her ass shook as she neared climax. She braced her hands against the counter, leaning over further. "Hurry up," she gasped, "or your waffle will be burnt."

His throbbing cock pierced her core, rattling her interior with its ejaculate. She lost all control of her body, vibrating as her pelvic muscles clenched uncontrollably. She squeaked and clenched her teeth, chattering as the orgasm stretched out into a languid warmth.

His dick slipped from her hole, leaving her crotch wet. She fetched a hand towel and dried herself off, grinning up at M-Fifty Six. He was wearing an orange latex bodysuit with his number printed in black block letters over his left breast. "Maintenance Supervisor" had been printed below his designation.

The crotch area of his bodysuit was open, leaving his dick ready for action. In the past this would have been considered obscene, but in the new Drone society, it was expected. Drones had no need to hide their sexuality or arousal from other Drones. It was accepted that Drones were sexual beings. Denying that was foolish.

Tossing the towel into the hamper, she moved in close to her husband, wrapping her hands around his head to pull him in for a wet kiss. "Ready for the day now?" she asked rhetorically.

He kissed her back, raising an eyebrow. "Waffles?" he asked.

I-Forty Four sent him a rude retort through the Gestalt, turning to attend to the waffle iron. She grimaced as she opened the lid, the waffle a much darker color than it should have been.

"This one is yours," she declared.

M-Fifty Six smirked and snagged the waffle. "With pleasure."

Sitting down at the table, he grabbed a yogurt container, drizzling the hot surface with blueberry flavor. Cutting a corner off with his fork, he stuffed it into his mouth and made a noise of appreciation. "Stellar as always," he announced.

I-Forty Four gave him a light slap on the shoulder. "Stop that!" she said playfully. "We should wait for the kids before we start eating."

"Kids?" harrumphed M-Fifty Six. "One of them is a guard, and the other is our Queen. They're hardly children."

I-Forty Four rolled her eyes and fetched another waffle out of the iron. "It's rude to finish eating before they've have a chance to tuck in. We need to do a reinforcement session together anyway."

The blue globe on the table flashed white, and M-Fifty Six stopped chewing, attention stolen by its swirling surface. "You will wait for the others to arrive," ordered the globe.

"I... will wait," agreed M-Fifty Six, setting down his fork and swallowing, a slow grin growing as he stared at the globe.

I-Forty Four shrugged. She had tried to warn him, but even as a Drone, he was a stubborn bastard. Never mind. The personal assistant would sort him out.

She pulled out yet another waffle, the stack growing to a towering pile. Humming, she twirled and set the plate down on the table. She was expecting company.

The doorbell rang, and she trotted to the front door, the white apron tied to her waist flapping. Opening the door, she admired the three Drones waiting patiently on her doorstep.

D-Ten, dressed in purple Dronewear, was sandwiched between G-One Oh Five and G-One Oh Six. Their black masks and chrome tanks with rubber hoses hid their identities, but she could tell who they were by their mind taste in the Gestalt.

"Come in!" she said. "You're all very welcome."

She bowed, one hand gesturing towards the kitchen. "Take a seat! There are plenty of waffles to go around."

"Thank you, we shall take you up on your offer," said D-Ten regally.

She stepped forward deliberately on platform boots, the guards stomping behind her. I-Forty Four frowned at the dirt they were tracking inside, but said nothing. She would have to sweep the floor later.

As feet came tromping down the stairs, she turned and curtseyed. "My Queen, breakfast is served."

Q-Three looked unsettled. "I really would rather you didn't, mother. This feels awkward. Just treat me with respect. I don't like this bowing and scraping."

She wrapped a blue hand under Susan's shoulder and pulled her in. "We're family. No need to treat me so formally. I decided to remain a Queen, but that doesn't mean I see you as any less my mother."

"Yes, my Queen," replied I-Forty Four, her lips quirking upwards. "Whatever you say."

Q-Three made an annoyed noise, shaking her head. "Do I have to order you around?" she threatened. "I will if I have to."

"Anything you say, my Queen," she replied, devolving into laughter as Q-Three held her quaking body.

She would learn to deal with it, in time. I-Forty Four already noticed a new strength in Q-Three that she hadn't seen before. A sense of purpose drove her that hadn't existed until Hive had healed her body and mind.

G-Fifty Seven took the stairs two at a time, looping a chrome tank over his back. A black mask was slung over his shoulder, and he gave a large yawn, showing off the orb Installed in the back of his mouth.

"Did you get enough sleep last night?" asked I-Forty Four. "I know you've been spending a lot of time with D-Ten." She winked at him.

"Mother," he said firmly in a long suffering tone, "My love life is none of your damn business."

She grinned back at him. "It's a mother's job to embarrass her children. You both look so cute together!"

He rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. Q-Three shot him a piercing stare. "D-Ten has been my best friend since childhood. You better be treating her right."

G-Fifty Seven's face flushed. "Why don't you ask her?" he mumbled. "I can barely keep her satisfied."

I-Forty Four peeled with laughter, squeezing Q-Three and disengaging to enter the kitchen. "I rather think the relationship dynamic there is going to work the other way around."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the crowd sitting in her kitchen. "No gas masks at the table," she said pointedly at the two guard Drones. "It's bad manners to hide your face in my house."

A blue cloud of exhaled gas emanated from the blank spheres, but they moved to remove their helmets. More gas escaped as the latches clicked, revealing pale blue faces underneath. Their expressions were fixed, eyes darting to scan the kitchen as they followed their programming.

I-Forty Four fetched the maple syrup and butter, setting them down near the plate of waffles. Q-Three and G-Fifty Seven took their seats, sitting next to each other at the foot of the table.

I-Forty Four looked over them with pride. This was her family. Her Drone family. As Hive expanded, so too did her family.

She grinned at D-Ten, taking a peek at her belly, which was wrapped tight in purple latex. With any luck, they would be welcoming new members to the family soon.

All that was in the future. For now, she must follow her orders. She sat in her seat, holding out her hands to either side for the other Drones to hold. The rest of the Drones linked hands and stared at the pulsing blue globe in the center of the table.

"Together, as one," she declared.

"We are Drones," they all repeated in unison.

"We pledge our loyalty to Her and each other in support of Hive. We are One in purpose."

The more she stared at the globe, the less she could feel the hands she grasped. She was being extracted from her body, mind being washed in the pure joy of the Gestalt.

The bright sparks of other minds joined with her, reveling in the communion they shared. Awash in this shared experience, they began to chant.

"We submit. We obey. We expand. We are Hive."

This chanting served to further divorce their physical bodies from their minds, leaving them further behind as they were drawn deeper into the Gestalt. The experience they were sharing together was indescribable, a mishmash of colors and ecstasy.

They remained in this state for a short time, transfixed while the blue globe examined their thoughts. Worries and disobedience was smoothed out, replaced with devotion. Their central purpose re-centered on Hive.

I-Forty Four experienced a head rush as she was ejected from the globe, taking a few moments to resettle in her body. Looking around, she smiled brightly at the others without seeing, knowing that they were as much a slave to Hive as she was. It was exhilarating.

The bright globe dimmed, and her smile faded into a frown. D-Ten had moved and was sitting in G-Fifty Seven's lap, bouncing her hips. G-Fifty Seven was lying back in his seat, staring at the ceiling and gasping for breath.

I-Forty Four shrugged. Drones will be Drones. She was feeling rather horny herself, but her earlier fucking had taken the edge off. D-Ten must have been waiting for this for some time. The pent up arousal must have built horrendously while she attended Q-Three.

She ran a hand over her latex covered breasts and shot M-Fifty Six a smoky look, promising more to come after breakfast. His Adam's apple bounced as he swallowed another piece of waffle, raising his brows.

G-Fifty Seven's friends appeared nonplussed by the sexual tension, eating without restraint. The larger one was really putting it away, downing another waffle

I-Forty Four looked at her Queen. "What are your plans, Q-Three? I've heard that you're about to be taken off leave."

A shadow moved over Q-Three's neon green eyes. She had adopted some of her old fashion choices while she had been at home, with a twist. She used to be into dark colors, but now she had adopted a cyberpunk aspect to go with the color of her latex dress. She had used sparkly green eyeshadow and colored her lips to match, wearing dreadfalls on her bald head.

"To be honest," she replied, "I haven't really considered. I dread the new responsibilities I will have to take on, but Hive will provide."

The rest of the Drones at the table repeated the mantra with her.

"There's so much I still don't know!" she complained. "How will I ever do a good job?"

There was a knock at the door. I-Forty Four rose, moving towards the entrance. "I wonder who that could be?" she asked. "I'm not expected anybody."

She reached out through the Gestalt, but pulled back quickly, surprised at the strength of the mind glow she found. Instinctively, she knew that this was not a Drone to trifle with.

The door clicked open, revealing a tall, well built Drone. She wasn't wearing a bodysuit, which was quite unusual. Instead, her chest was supported by a strict corset, pierced breasts sitting on top of boned cups to show off their prominence.

She wore tight, thigh high boots with extreme platform heels, increasing her height by at least half a foot. Her form towered over I-Forty Four, forcing her to look up to see the chrome metal helmet which hid most of the Drone's features.

The number at her collar was Fifteen. I-Forty Four felt a thrill of excitement in her chest. Only the most important and early Drones were assigned plain numbers. What could she be doing here?

I-Forty Four stepped to one side and gestured for the Drone to come in. "Thank you," the Drone said in a low, velvety voice, stepping lightly towards the kitchen.

As she entered, Q-Three gasped. "Fifteen? What are you doing here? Am I needed for some more training?"

Fifteen swept into the room. "No, my dear, One has decided to attach me to your entourage for the time being. I will use all of my experience to make you into the perfect Drone Queen."

She leaned in to whisper into Q-Three's ear. Her words caused the young Queen to blush. She rose, giving the older Drone a formal bow. "I will take this district in hand, as She commands."

Fifteen took her hand, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek with rouged lips. "Of course you will," she said with utter confidence. "Drones must obey."

The other Drones repeated the words together. D-Ten gasped in pleasure as she wiggled her butt on G-Fifty Seven's cock.

She wriggled, moaning, breaking into a wide smile. She stood, the juices from their coupling dripping down her thighs. G-Fifty Seven sat low in his seat, looking flushed. He was exhausted from being ridden.

"Drones obey," D-Ten mouthed, giving G-Fifty Seven a sloppy kiss. "I love you."

I-Forty Four looked at the couple brightly. "When is the wedding?" she asked with a grin.

***

G-Fifty Seven asked me to write this down, so here it is (I still call him Zach sometimes, but don't tell him that. He's embraced his number, becoming a perfect guard and adjutant to D-Ten).

That's how it all happened.

The arrival of Hive was more banal than you might expect. After most of the populace was converted, life continued as before, just with more interesting outfits and fewer hangups.

G-Fifty Seven married D-Ten in a proper Drone wedding, mother and father in attendance. Their affection for one another was consummated at the altar, showing everyone just how aroused they were. You can't imagine how embarrassing it was to see mother boning father while they were taking their vows!

His friends were the best Drones, sharing the gas from their tanks with any cute Drone who caught their eyes. The result was a Drone orgy, rather over the top by any measure.

Afterwards, we communed in the Gestalt, rejoicing in our loyalty to Hive. More than a few Drones were impregnated after the ceremony. One of them had to be admonished for being fucked on top of the wedding cake! Seeing her orange latexed breasts being pushed into the frosting as she was railed from behind was quite a sight!

Throughout all this, my father has been a perfect Drone, serving mother and ensuring the house is always in perfect working order. They've been rather busy, too, as mother is pregnant! They had sworn they wouldn't have another child after having us so early, but being converted into Drones has obviously changed all that.

There is joy in obeying Hive's directives. I am sure they will raise their new child as a devoted slave to Hive.

I took up my duties, as expected, and helped to convert my district to the best of my abilities. Fifteen was the perfect assistant, helping me with my new duties and with... other things. She's amazing in so many ways!

We recently had the one year anniversary of my reign. Some of the Drones from my childhood dropped by to see how I'm doing (and to steal a few kisses!)

Don't tell Zach, but I've started seeing one of his friends, the one formerly known as Nate. His time as a guard has really bulked up his muscles, dropping the fat he had gained from gaming all the time. His laugh is infectious, and his cock is enormous.

So far, it hasn't amounted to much more than a fling, but I'm hoping it will turn into something solid, soon. I can think of nothing more fulfilling than to pump out more Drone babies. To spread Hive through procreation like my mother. My thighs juice every time I think of being fucked by him.

All in all, my small contribution to the spread of Hive was necessary - essential even, but my role could have been filled by any of a thousand other Queens. I feel honored that One chose me to enforce Her will.