How to Train Your Drone

Blake's not waiting for me when I get to his chambers. "The Overlord's meeting with his governors is running late, Superior. Would you like to hurt this drone until the Overlord is finished?" My heart melts at the words. I know Blake thinks saying "this drone" is silly; having drones use first person singular pronouns is one of the only parts of drone training he's overruled me on. But any time he uses a drone to deliver an apology to me, he overrides his own directive.

And yes, I would like to hurt this drone. "Disengage impassivity protocols and reduce pain tolerance," I order. "I want to hear you scream."

The drone is screaming when a door-drone announces that Blake is coming. I order the drone I've been hurting to engage its impassivity protocols and return its pain tolerance to the standard threshold, but I don't bother to untie it; a drone will do that when its services are required again. Probably.

Blake claims my mouth with his and we kiss passionately. His drones undress us and he uses them to augment what he's doing to me with his own body. They caress me, massage me, plant kisses down my back and legs, and whisper sweet nothings in my ears.

I return the affection as well as I can with only two hands, cupping his ass with one while the wraps around his shoulders, holding him as close to me as physically possible. We harden and grind into each other, then Blake ends the kiss and nuzzles my neck. I loosen my grip and a drone takes our cocks in its mouth. I hear a moan, but I don't know if it's mine or his. "I want you inside me."

"Which of my cocks do you want?"

"The one attached to your body, doofus."

My hips buck as a thought crosses my mind. The drone doesn't gag, Blake must have overridden its reflex. He doesn't always, both of us like a gagging drone now and then. "Hmmm?"

"I was just thinking what would happen if literally anyone else called you doofus."

"Sadist. And Katie uses much harsher insults."

"Babe, could we not talk about my sister during sex?"

"Sorry."

A drone starts rimming me and I convulse with pleasure.

"God, Blake. This one is... damn!"

"Prehensile tongue."

"Any chance we can do that to all of them?"

"Not really. Takes up a lot of brainpower. It can't really do any task apart from oral sex. I'm going to have it done to a few others. Want me to do it for your drone?"

"No, I want to use him for a lot of things."

"You'll have others."

"Probably. What if my capacity is one?"

"Mostly caps that low are from incompetent surgery. You'll be getting the best surgeon I have, and the legal cap won't apply to you."

The drone starts fingering me, I moan and writhe in Blake's arms, but I don't say anything. I can't say anything. The pleasure is too overwhelming. I almost cum the instant Blake enters me, but manage to hold myself back. I want him to cum first. In the end he doesn't, he almost never does, but he's not far behind me. The drone on my cock hasn't finished swallowing the dregs of my load when he goes off. Blake eases out of me and once again there's a drone's mouth on my ass, drinking down the cum Blake deposited inside me.

*** 5-Lambda is having a bad day. As a consequence, I am having a great day. "Candidate 5-Lambda, there are only ninety-eight standard resting postures for you to memorize. If you can't bother to to understand the difference between thirty-four" (hands clasped behind the back -- right on top of left, palms facing inward -- legs slightly bent, head bowed, knees touching, feet apart) "and thirty-five" (hands clasped behind the back -- right on top of left, palms facing inward -- legs slightly bent, head bowed, feet in line with shoulders) "you're going to fail your candidacy."

Its conditioning has reached the point where the idea makes it visibly nauseous, and the reality is that for all practical purposes its candidacy is over. Even with a memory wipe, the fundamental need to obey, to have a master, to surrender freedom, those impulses would remain. It couldn't function if it weren't a drone.

Still, that doesn't mean its candidacy is over. It still struggles with memorizing the endless iterations of protocols, with suppressing its thoughts, and with getting fucked. It seems to have some deep-seated emotional issues with penetration. Nothing that can't be fixed, but completely unacceptable for a drone that's going to be used the way 5-Lambda will be.

But for now, I get to hurt it every time it fails. And it fails a lot. It hasn't learned to adjust its pain tolerance internally yet, so I'm still using drugs to reduce it as much as humanely possible before punishment. My idea of humane probably differs from its. That's okay. It doesn't need to have an idea of humane.

"This drone apologizes for its aberrant behavior, Master," it says.

"I know you do. But that's not sufficient. You need to be a good drone."

"Yes, Master. This drone needs to be good."

"Are you a good drone?"

"This drone does not evaluate itself."

I still love that. Can't believe I'd never thought of the phrase myself. A first-person variant of it is now a standard response for Blake's drones, too.

"What is a good drone?"

"A good drone is an extension of its master's will. A good drone complies with orders and proactively anticipates its master's desires. A good drone suppresses its thoughts and feelings and acts on those of its master. When a good drone's judgment protocols are engaged, it chooses what is best for its master.

"A good drone never repeats the same mistake. A good drone reports its unnoticed aberrant behaviors so it can be punished. A good drone learns from its punishments. A good drone reduces its pain tolerance before punishment.

"A good drone keeps its body healthy so that it can be used. A good drone rests to regain its strength. A good drone eats the rations its body needs. A good drone reports to the infirmary when it is sick or injured. A good drone has strength and stamina.

"A good drone learns new tasks and protocols. A good drone is smart. A good drone knows things that make it better at its functions. A good drone forgets things that are not relevant to its functions. A good drone has many functions and can add more.

"A good drone is available for its master's pleasure. A good drone is horny. A good drone has a skilled mouth, a skilled ass, a skilled cock, and skilled hands. A good drone knows what its master likes. A good drone swallows. A good drone does not cum.

"A good drone has only one desire. A good drone wants to be a good drone."

I tousle its hair. "Good drone." It preens; I haven't engaged its impassivity protocols yet. "Engage impassivity protocols." It stops preening immediately and its face goes blank. "Good drone." No response. "Run through each resting posture in alphabetical order."

"Master?"

"Start with resting posture eight, then eighteen, then eighty, and so forth. The last is posture two. You can work out the others for yourself. Take your time, don't announce your posture until you're sure."

It goes slowly. I make 5-Lambda start again at eight if it makes a mistake either in which posture corresponds to which number or which number is alphabetically after another. I punish it after every tenth mistake. Usually a quick electric shock, but I mix things up. The last time I bent it over my knee and spanked its bare ass with my hand. Probably didn't hurt as much as some of the other things, but not all punishments are about the offender.

When it's done, I reward it with a bath. Drones usually take quick lukewarm showers (Blake was right to tell me I couldn't make them take ice-cold ones, damn him), so a long, hot bath is a serious prize I grope its body, fondle it, and tug on its hair as it cleans itself. Eventually I start to jerk it off. Its cock is hard and oozing precum in less than a minute.

"Candidate 5-Lambda, does a good drone cum?"

"No, Master."

"And yet you do."

"This drone cums when ordered to. Its master's desire for it to cum overrides its own need to be a good drone."

"But do you want to cum?"

"No, Master. This drone wants to be a good drone."

"Does it feel good when you cum?"

"Yes, master."

"I am going to keep jerking you off. Judgment protocols engaged, choice permitted. You may beg me to stop."

"Master, please stop jerking this drone off, please don't let it cum, please let it be a good drone. This drone knows that good drones do not cum and it wants to be a good drone. This drone can suppress its need to be a good drone if its master wishes it to cum, but this drone implores its master to stop." I increase the pace.

"Master, Master, please. This drone does not want to cum. This drone wants to be constantly horny, for its body to constantly need release, and for that need to be denied. This drone wants to suffer so that it can be good."

I bring 5-Lambda to orgasm with my mouth, then spit its cum in its face. "Candidate 5-Lambda, you will never cum again. From now on, you will be a good drone"

"This drone is grateful."

*** One of the nice things about being married to the Overlord is that doctors still do house calls for you. I'm sitting at the table, Blake stands behind me, massaging my shoulders (with his own hands, not a drone's). A door-drone announces Dr. Kej and she enters with her drones. She bows deeply to Blake. "Overlord."

One of Blake's drones addresses the doctor. "Please sit down, doctor," it says. She does. "This is the Overlord's husband, Thomas."

"A privilege to meet you, sir."

Blake's drone replies before I can, "Yes, it is."

"Hon, don't speak for me."

Dr. Kej winces. Is it the pet name? The fact that I gave him an order? Probably both. Blake continues to massage my shoulders, unperturbed.

Dr. Kej's description of the implant surgery is professional and clinical. Not the best bedside manner, but I'm okay with that. I zone out for most of it; the drones will memorize everything she says anyway. "Any questions, Overlord, sir?"

A drone speaks. "What will his cap be?"

"It's hard to say. Some people can only have or two drones, most can manage about five, and the legal cap is six, but you've waived it for Thomas. I doubt he'll be up to your myriads, Overlord."

"But a lot of it depends on the surgeon's skill." The drone again.

"Yes, Overlord. And I am extremely good at this. But with the legal cap at six, it's hard to say how large a standard deviation above the mean is. I can't give you any sort of idea in terms of whether ten drones would be a little bit more than the normal mental cap or staggeringly above it."

"I'm sure you can get him at least ten. I'll have you executed for incompetence otherwise."

One of her drones gasps.

"Doctor," I say "are your drones' impassivity protocols engaged?"

"I think so, sir."

She thinks so. "Drone, are your impassivity protocols engaged?"

"Yes, Superior. This drone apologizes for its aberrant behavior."

I look up at my husband. "Yeah, no. She's incompetent. We'll need to find someone else."

Blake speaks with his own voice. "Should I have her punished?"

"Aw, babe, you don't need to."

Dr. Kej is trembling. Pity she's a woman; I love it when a man is this terrified.

Once again, Blake's drone speaks. "You are dismissed, doctor."

She rises, backs up just past the door, and bows. The door-drone closes the door after her own drones have filed past.

"You can't reject all of them."

"Look who's talking. I've rejected three. You've rejected eight. And I'd've been fine with two of those. Blake, we both know this ends with you asking Katie to do it, so why don't we just skip to that? We know she's good, she did you after all."

Blake sits down next to me. "Because I'm not joking when I say that if the surgeon doesn't do a spectacular job with you I'll kill them. And I don't want to kill her."

"You act like it's inevitable. Katie won't fail and even if she did, you wouldn't actually have to kill her."

"But I would. Probably with a drone's bare hands right then and there without a trial."

"So this whole rigmarole has been to find a surgeon you trust enough to let open my brain, but not one you like so much that you'd regret killing them in a fit of homicidal rage?"

"Exactly."

As if on queue -- and that would be because I'd already worked this out two surgeons ago and queued it -- Katie walks in. "Is Blake being a shithead?"

"As per usual."

She walks around the table and punches him in the arm. "Blake, I already told you. You aren't going to find someone better than me. You aren't going to find someone even half as good as me. My track record on implantations is perfect. Given that you're the shining star on that track record, I'd think you'd know that."

Blake has the decency to look away while Katie continues ranting, "I am also, quite possibly, the only person who loves Tom more than you do."

"Katie, gross."

She glares at me. "You know what I mean. If I mess up his surgery, which I won't, I won't really care if you kill me. Tom's told me which doctors you've interviewed. They're all brilliant experts, and I'd skin every one of the alive if they came near him with a scalpel."

"Okay, okay. Point taken." Blake raises his hands. "You can do the surgery."

"How gracious of you to let me."

"Sorry. Katie, will you please install Thomas's implants?"

"That's better. And yes, I will."

*** The words are, to some extent, scripted. But they aren't a formality. To my knowledge, no candidate-drone ever has come this far and failed, but with some seriously powerful truth serum in their veins, they really do have to mean every word they say.

"When you began your training, I told you that you could ask to leave at any time. But that is for Candidates. Once you are a drone, that option will be gone."

"Yes, Master."

"Do you want to leave?"

"No, Master."

"Do you understand how I will treat you as my drone?"

"Master, this drone will be an object for you to use or discard at your leisure. You will have no obligations towards this drone. You will feed it, clothe it, and house it if it pleases you to do so. You will use it, fuck it, and hurt it. Sometimes you will hurt it to punish it for aberrant behavior, but sometimes you will hurt it for your own amusement. This drone will eat only drone meal rations, will sleep on the floor, will always be horny and never cum. This drone will only make decisions when ordered, and its choices will always be for the good of its master, not itself. The arrangement will be entirely to its master's benefit, the only reward this drone will get is obedience to its master. This drone consents to be its masters drone because it wants to be a good drone, and a good drone is an extension of its master's will. A good drone..." 5-Lambda recites the good drone creed.

"Candidate 5-Lambda, do you renounce your humanity, your family, and your identity to the service of your master?"

"This drone has no existence beyond being its master's drone."

"Candidate 5-Lambda, is this what you wanted when you arrived?"

"No, when this drone arrived it thought it was a person making a horrific sacrifice to save its family. It hated the thought of becoming a drone and almost asked to leave several times. This drone does not know whether its family has been compensated for its service and does not care. This drone no longer thinks it is a person and being a good drone is its only desire. All that remains of what arrived are some memories that this drone will now purge."

"Candidate 5-Lambda, are the memories purged?"

"This drone has no memory of its existence before being its master's drone and no interest in that existence. This drone begs its master to tell it, is it a good drone?"

"5-Lambda, you are no longer a candidate-drone. You are a good drone."

"This drone exists for its master's pleasure. It is his to use and fuck and hurt as he wishes."

And then I cum on its face. It wipes the cum off its face with its hands and licks them clean. It looks up at me, face impassive.

"Report to the infirmary for your implants."

It crawls away as I head up to Katie's operating room for my own. I will never need to give it a verbal order again.

*** Epilogue

The New Year's Ball is supposed to be a purely social occasion, but it never is. Diplomats from Blake's client-states have pulled him off the dance floor to beg him to relent on taxes, to send soldier-drones to fortify their borders, to choose a different client-state to annex the next time he wants to expand the Dominion. I've been pulled off the dance floor by some drone-trainers who want to pick my brain on techniques; I don't really mind that, it's a chance to infodump and to size up potential trainers for the the Citadel's drones. But still, I had really wanted to dance.

I reach out with my mind and order one of my newer drones to find one of Blake's. I catch Blake's eye when it does, and wink. Then my drone leads Blake's onto the dance floor, through an obscenely erotic tango. Then they switch and Blake's drone leads mine in a slow, sensual rumba. They continue to dance, trading off follow and lead, and we add more drones to the mix, partnering them off until we have six drone couples on the dance floor.

The other couples on the floor, mostly people, some people dancing with drones, dance among them. Our drones are beautiful, graceful, perfect. The other couples are fine, I guess.

Our dancing becomes less formal, more sexual. One of my drones squeezes the ass of the drone it's dancing with. Two of Blake's drones start grinding into mine. Another drone slips its hand into its partner's pants. I disengage my drones' impassivity protocols and enjoy the mix of desire and frustration on their faces. Blake must have disengaged his drones' as well, because I see one of them open its mouth in what is almost certainly a moan.

I'm hard and if I keep watching I'll end up fucking a drone in public. I re-engage my drones' impassivity protocols and instruct them to be less erotic. Blake's drones back off as well and we resume their more stately, chaste dance.

Katie taps me on the shoulder. "You're going to give me diabetes," she says.

"You literally already have diabetes."

"Yeah, because this is so sickeningly sweet that it reached back in time to our mother's womb."

"Consider it payback for what I put up with at your bachelorette party."

She groans. "In my defense I was drunk and my wife really is that beautiful."

"Is she?"

Katie glares.

As the clock chimes midnight, my eyes lock with Blake's as our drones kiss. "I love you so much," he mouths.

"I love you too."