Good Afternoon Alison

"OK, I don't mind staying for a night. What do I have to consider?"

"We, that is Nokamura Industries and the Police, would like you to get a drone protocol reactivated. It will protect you, again. The Legal Protocol caught the criminal last time. Just think about it."

I left. Julie ordered one of the drones to guide me. The building seemed familiar, though I could not consciously remember it. The drone took me to a canteen, showed me the gym, training rooms and bathrooms, then led me to a small room. This was a two person, or drone, room with bunk beds, a clothes rack and a couple of chairs. I did not know if I had a room-mate for the night.

I sat down and looked through my folder. I found out more about the stupidly named 'Love you long time' protocol, it was the first thing I read about. I did not learn a lot more than Julie had told me. Other victims were described in crime reports. The hack was progressive, and even without a trigger the victim would continually repeat it and eventually slip into a drone state, fixated on being someone's sex slave. The authorities didn't know how long this took, probably months rather than many years. As a drone, I had been the lucky person who was a first time user. Ha Ha. So I have myself back, and rather than a year of university I could look forward to some part of a year and then not being aware.

What they were offering as a protection was the Legal Protocol. I hadn't known, but I discovered this was more than a bunch of legal boilerplate I had to repeat in certain circumstances. At the end of the protocol speech were orders to contact authorities if I had been ordered to do anything illegal or sketchy – in the opinion of the drone. Andy, the bastard, had been caught by it. I, or the drone me, had called in to report him a week after the hack. If I got caught by the hack again, I would report on the criminal. I'd get saved again, though it was helping the authorities rather than me. My life was limited.

I took a big breath and decided that I would look on the bright side. It wasn't easy and I knew I would be back-sliding into grief and panic. However, I decided to count my blessings. What else could I do?

I worked out in the gym, finding myself in very good condition, which was one pleasing thing, then had supper which could either be a simple meal or drone food, and then went to bed. The meal was OK.

Before bed, I went to the stores and collected my phone. It was in a box marked with my name together with my charger, some cards, and a handbag. No clothes I had formerly owned. I spent a few minutes reactivating my phone plan, but didn't bother looking at any feeds yet. I messaged my parents so they knew I would probably be back tomorrow; I didn't feel like talking to anyone yet. I didn't tell them of my problem.

I found myself repeating parts of the damned hack as I went to sleep. I could see the problem: I wanted to repeat it.

In the morning, I drew clean clothing, showered and went to the canteen for breakfast. The place was busy, as it always was. I could see drone candidates being trained, people starting a contract as I had done, people just finishing a contract as I was now, administrative drones working here, and about a dozen trainers or other staff. About 80 bodies were having a meal, and it could have accommodated 150.

As I collected my coffee (which I knew was not bad from two years ago), the serving drone spoke to me, "Hello Person Alison. If you want conversation at breakfast, the table with drone candidates and ex-drones is that one," indicating by pointing towards a table. "You will not get any communication on your usual table unless you both use drone communication protocol and have a task."

Of course, I thought. I had been here for the last two days, and probably the last five months. I walked past the other tables, different groups tending to be at each table. Julie was at the staff table, and waved at me as I went past. I nodded to her. She put up nine fingers to me and raised her eyebrows. I nodded OK. I sat at the table with the people transitioning into or out of being a drone.

I sat with six people wearing a DC shirt, with headsets and collars on, the earphones hanging round necks; and three like me, with neutral shirts and no headset, and surprisingly a man with an anti-droner shirt on. He was the only person with a decorated shirt in the room; he looked very nervous. DC meant drone candidate; I remembered wearing one like it.

I sat next to him, looked at him and decided to talk. "Why are you wearing that, what is your point? I'm Alison, by the way."

"Hello, err... I'm Barry. I'm making a point about what I think of making people into drones, but I have given in to the system. I'll be signing a two-year contract today. I hate it, and think that droning people is wrong, but I need the money and find I've got less rigid principles than I thought."

As I ate, I talked with him a little, "I've got some sympathy with you, but your movement made a difference to drones. They are treated better now and have legal protection. I think the anti-droners made that possible. You must feel proud that short term sentences are a thing now, and short-term contracts did not exist just a few years ago."

"I suppose so, but it seems so inhuman. I suppose we can count small gains. I don't think we will ever get drones stopped now, that horse is out of the stable. It's convenient, legalized slavery."

"Well you are here now. I'm at the end of my contract. I'm leaving today."

"How did you find it? I'm a bit nervous to be truthful. I've got another hour before the final interview. If you can tell me, it's from the horse's mouth. If you don't mind of course!"

"I don't mind. The process is easy, and I hardly remember it. But I could tell you were nervous from ten feet away. That's the Sex Protocols, I look for body language." I decided to give him a bit more, but nothing about the hacking. I needed to think about that first. "I've been droned, leased out from here, for 28 months. I've been told I had an accident and had to be treated which extended the original contract."

"That makes me more nervous, if the time is not fixed."

"You already know that from the contract. I was just unlucky; I was in a traffic accident and got fully treated. I got plastic surgery and breast enhancements out of it, see here, so I'm really pretty now." Wait, what was I doing! I stopped leaning back to give a stranger an eyeful and concentrated on my cup and took a mouthful. I was going to have to look out for this sort of thing.

Barry blushed and looked away. "Sorry, bit of enthusiasm carry over I think." I lied. The conversation paused for a bit.

"Anyway, good luck to you." I encouraged him, since he was nearly finished. "Enjoy your coffee, this is the first one I've had in two years and I'm enjoying it. Yours might be your last for a while."

"Thanks a lot, good-bye," he called as we both left.

I didn't speak to anyone else and the others at the table didn't talk. Perhaps I was not attractive enough. I needed to groom my hair better and I really needed some makeup. I couldn't get any here but it would be a priority; looking attractive was really important for a good sex slave. Damn. Where had that come from?

I went to see Julie, arriving at her office just before 09:00. We sat down together.

After greetings, she started. "Have you thought about the Legal Protocol yet?"

"Yes, I think it's a good idea, turn it on please."

"It will take some conditioning with a headset. Not a lot, it was installed before and has only just been removed. That is an advantage of having been a drone; learning like that is very easy now. I think it will take most of a day here, and you can be done about three o'clock. Do you also want to be given a monitoring protocol? That's a very simple protocol, you get a desire to phone a number or if that fails make an emergency contact, as far as is possible, at regular intervals, and you give a location and so on. The hack won't override that, and if you get er... affected again, the monitoring protocol will still work."

"OK, I'll do that, to both of them."

"I don't usually give people advice about drone memories. It's personal and whether to get them back or ignore them is up to you. I think in your case, you should think hard about it and figure out your feelings before deciding. You cannot forget them again if you change your mind; well you can, but that will cost you some money and time. The other thing you might want, and I did put it into your folder, is victim support. An advisor can come and see you at home. It's up to you."

"Can they really help?"

"No. Not really, but they might give you emotional support. That's very important and you might need it more than you think. I recommend you re-establish your support network, and possibly see a counsellor."

"Hmm, I see that might be a good idea. At this stage, I haven't got many other options, so yes, I will contact them from home. Do I need to see the Police?"

"No, the crime has been dealt with. The crime number is in the folder, and a police contact. You don't need to do anything. I'm sorry about this personally. But remember that Nokamura Industries doesn't take any responsibility. One thing I can offer you is to see Andy Starter again. You could see what he has to say. It would be controlled."

I thought about this for a while. Did I want to see the bastard again? Not at the moment. "I'll pass on that for now. Where is he?"

"It is a drone under sentence, currently assigned to a factory. We can get it back and in a state to talk to you. I don't know how long he was sentenced to, or whether it was for life. He wasn't processed here. If you want to see it, give me notice; you have my details."

"All right."

I noticed on the table now were two headsets, and two cups of liquid. Julie picked up a headset, clicked the microphone and asked, "Who is this headset assigned to?" The headset replied, Julie holding it close to her ear. She passed it to me, indicated a cup and told me, "Take the drugs now, and go to a training room. Goodbye Alison, and best of luck."

That seemed to be politeness only, I didn't think luck would help me. I rose to leave. Julie rose with me and opened the door. Hovering just outside was Barry, with his anti-droner shirt, looking very nervous.

Julie said brightly "Ah, Mr. Black. I'm expecting you. And a comedian too. I don't think you will find it quite so funny tonight. Well, come on in."

I smirked at Barry and stepped past him.

I went to a training room, the one I was shown last night. By then I was feeling a little dizzy from the drugs but this was familiar. I wondered if I would look good with a headset on and wanted a mirror. Damn again.

When I put the headset on it was very polite, I suppose because I was a person now. "Greetings. Please confirm your identity to me." I confirmed it. "Alison, we are going to ask you to go under hypnosis, then install the Legal Protocol and the Monitoring Protocol. Please confirm that you accept this."

"Yes, I confirm."

It thanked me and asked me to go under. Istarted repeating my trigger phrase, and then very shortly I was in my hypnosis room. I knew I was physically still standing up in the training room, but I saw the familiar images, but changed. The drone truths were in my field of view, but all blurred and somehow told me that I didn't need them. The protocols were all gone, or blurred. The AI told me I had to start calibration now. I was asked to perform simple tasks, and each time I did it told me I was a good person. Then I was asked to do simple tasks, like take a yoga position, and get it wrong. I got a shock. The AI apologised and told me it was just a training shock. I had had a lot worse, and felt compliant. It didn't bother with pleasure stimulus which was disappointing. I wanted that, I felt I wanted to please it and show my sexy body and pussy to someone. Then we started reciting the protocols, with me repeating them back. At the end of an indefinite time I found myself awake again, hungry and tired, lying in a relaxed position on the floor. My protocol list had shown three clear protocols in place, which I would have to revise, the Protocol Updating Protocol, the Legal Protocol, and the Monitoring Protocol.

A trainer came in, and checked if I was OK. I went to the canteen, had a drink and snack, collected my belongings, and then left the building. I would call my parents and stay with them tonight, if not it would be a hotel. They already knew I was going to be coming back today.

I found out how the Monitoring Protocol worked. On the way home I felt a sudden, strong urge to make a phone call. I phoned the number and said "Hello, check in, this is Alison Tzure, TL205205201-ND. I'm in a car travelling south on the M3, the next junction is 8D. The last person I saw was a trainer at the Nokamura Industries building this morning, about an hour ago, the person before that Julie in the same place about 09:30." I found I was talking to a chatbot and it then asked whether I was under duress and whether I could speak freely. Once I had done the task I felt that familiar relaxed and compliant feeling again. Hmm, just like being a drone again even though I was a person.

I stayed with my parents for a while during the summer, and got ready for university. I had deferred the third year, and could just take up the course again. I found a flat, paid for with some of the contract money. For a while, I just carried on with my life. I had not told my parents. What good would it have done? I started with a counsellor and talked through my fears. They were real fears and I had to come to terms with them or at least find a way of functioning with them hanging over my head. I wondered if cancer patients get the same feeling. Cancer is mostly cured now, with the vaccinations. I'd had my vaccinations from birth, and had been given more when I entered the drone contract. I wouldn't get any sexually transmitted diseases now, not even the viral ones that had caused cancers.

I resumed my life, but didn't resume dating. I didn't know if the hack would get worse if I had sex; no one knew that. I didn't want to make it any worse, so I was afraid of getting close to anyone. I could masturbate, I thought that was safe. It might not be, but I wanted the feeling and it felt too nice not to do. I did not want to die frustrated, although afterwards the sex slave would not be frustrated. I compromised by going out to normal student places and looked for company and friends.

+++ Caught

Then I got caught.

I was out for an evening in a club. Nothing unusual, I'd been to the club before, it seemed safe enough.

I met a young man, who was just circulating. Looking perfectly normal. He came up to me, and said "'You're my girl, and I—" It was the start of the trigger phrase. I recognised it.

I jumped, my mind felt it was like flickering, and I just couldn't speak. He spotted it. I was frozen in horror. He grinned at me. He grabbed my arm, and I stayed frozen. He wasn't holding me hard and I should have pulled away. But I couldn't.

He spoke, leaning over to talk softly into my ear, "Come outside with me."

I shouldn't have. I was shaking, so scared of what he was going to do. Was this the end for me, did he really know it. I felt as if he had a knife against me.

He pulled me outside, I was walking quietly, he was just pulling me along gently. Inside of me I was both screaming 'Let me go' and 'Will he be my master?'

We went round the corner, it was quiet, not so quiet a normal person would be vulnerable, but quieter than the main road. I was vulnerable and knew what I should do, but I couldn't do anything.

"You reacted to that phrase. Why is that?"

I thought fast. "I've heard of a mind control programme. It's illegal. I recognised the phrase." My best bet was to stick close to the truth. "I'm protected though. If you try it I will just scream. I might just scream anyway." That was not true, but I had some protection. Not much at all. I waited like a deer in the headlights of a car.

"I don't think you will say anything. Walk with me, and if you are good, I'll let you go."

He couldn't know. I didn't know what to do. I nodded, in a herky-jerky fashion. He turned, pulling me gently and I followed. We walked while he called a cab. I didn't resist. I'd heard of women being assaulted not resisting. I couldn't imagine it. I understood it now. He took me to his room, not a word said. He couldn't know.

Once inside he let me go and said something like kneel down. I knelt and waited. I was crying. He said the whole phrase and my mind flickered, like a stop motion cartoon.

I looked up. "Are you my master?" I probably looked terrible. I wasn't afraid any more, just warm. Perhaps he would use me soon. "I would like, if you permit, to tidy myself up. I want to look good for you, it will be better." He looked puzzled. I said cheerfully, "I'm your slave now, if you want me." He still looked puzzled as if he didn't believe his luck. I smiled at him, making eye contact. Perhaps I needed to encourage him.

He spoke, commandingly, "Yes, I am your Master." Such an ordering voice. I knelt up, opened my legs to shoulder width, and pulled my shoulders back. This was a standard drone position, as well as my slave position. I checked my truths, 'Obey Master. Do anything sexual he wants. Try to turn him on. Dress pretty and keep yourself beautiful. You are his slave, do the best you can for him.' I checked my Drone Truths, nothing. I checked my protocols, nothing interesting in them that I needed to deal with. I kept looking at Master.

Then he used me, such pleasure as I undressed for him, then offered him my body. I gave him a blowjob, hoping he would enjoy it. I kept asking him what he wanted, but he did not give me many orders. I hoped he was satisfied. He did not seem to know how to pleasure me, but that didn't matter. I would try to jill off for him in a bit and see if he liked it. I wanted to be a good girl and love him.

He told me to go to sleep on the couch and wake him with a blowjob tomorrow morning. So I did. In the morning, when it was fully light, I went to his bed and gave him his blowjob. I was not as pretty as I would have liked, since I was in the same clothes and didn't want to disturb Master by washing or showering.

After the blowjob, which I really enjoyed, I asked him what I could do. He didn't seem sure, and didn't seem to realise I was actually his slave. I suppose knowing about the hack and doing it were not the same thing. I offered to go out and bring him breakfast. He accepted, so I did that. I had money, his money now.

I returned, I had noted the address, so I could return with the food. I was walking round naked now inside the room and had cleaned myself up while he ate. I needed better clothes and makeup. And a hairbrush. I asked Master about this. He had sex with me which I enjoyed. He said he had to go to work and told me to tidy the place up, then I could go shopping. He was not any more specific than that. I tried to find out if he wanted anything more but he was vague. Perhaps I need to ask better questions; I'll have to think about that.

I tidied as ordered, feeling happy as I did it. I wanted to be a good girl and love him.

I went out, to get sexy clothes for Master's benefit, and some make up. I also wanted some cleaning supplies and scented soap and shampoo for me. I wanted to get things for Master too but I needed to know what he likes better first.

While I was out, I got the urge to make a phone call. Master had taken my phone, so I went into a shop and used the 'Ask for Angela' code for help. The person in the shop let me use a phone, they were very nice about it. I spoke to a voice at the other end and gave my details. I didn't know Master's name, so I just called him Master, but I knew the address. Then I went back to his room, dropped off the clothes and shopping, and went out again to get food for myself.