Temporary Position

"Ah, welcome... You're the potential employees, yes? Alex Burns and Tiffany Williams?" They both nodded, clearly nervous, and the secretary smiled understandingly.

Taking on a job at Aphoridae was, after all, not only stigmatised, but there were always rumours. The secretary shook her head slightly. Well, the induction should clear that. She smiled more brightly, and gestured to a door nearby. "I'll be taking care of your induction, answering your questions, and, if you feel this isn't for you, we're quite happy to give you a small fee for interviewing." Alex looked at Tiffany, but they wordlessly followed.

The interview suite was designed to be comfortable. A trio of comfortable sofas and a wooden table dominated the center of the room, while posters of natural landscapes, a tea and coffee maker, and a vending machine adorned the walls. The secretary plopped herself down on one of the sofas, and waved her hand. "Make yourself whatever you want, and we'll get to it in your own time. I'm Liz, by the way!" Tiffany went to the coffee machine, while Alex got himself a soft drink, and, soon enough, they were sat down. But they were still tense, Alex with clenched hands on his knees, and Tiffany was fidgeting. Liz nodded. "I'm sure you have questions." Tiffany was first.

"Are you... Are you..." She couldn't bring herself to say it, but Liz shook her head.

"Oh no, that would be silly... And the term is Skillswitched, Tiffany, although you've probably heard 'Droned' a lot." She tapped her chin "Although I suppose it would be hard to tell, if it wasn't for the fact that memories can't be artificially created, just mindsets." Alex opened his mouth, and Liz continued "There's a command that your memories aren't important during the temporary position, you see." He sat back, and... Well, he wasn't convinced, but his objection had been answered. But he spoke again.

"How are temporary workers protected from being... Skillswitched, you said? How are they protected from a permanent state?" Liz nodded, soberly.

"Yes, that's an important question, and thank you for asking it, Alex! Essentially, a legal waiver form is prepared, but it's not just sent into our records. Copies are sent to the police headquarters for the city, and Central. Essentially, if we didn't release our skillswitched after the allotted period, we would be very harshly penalised." Alex and Tiffany both whistled in appreciation. They knew that 'harshly penalised' effectively meant 'armed assault.' "Any other questions?" They both shook their heads.

Liz smiled, but then turned sober again. "Now, I'm not only obligated, but I want to ask... Do you want to go through with this? I know the pay is good, but I always ask it, because the memories of the position can't really be suppressed, and... Well, you'll be sex workers, and I know, even with the skillswitch, not everyone is okay with that." Tiffany and Alex looked at each other, and it was Tiffany's turn to speak.

"We're having difficulties with our bills, our rent. We're grateful that you asked, but the interview fee... Well, it won't cover them, and we read in the brochure that... Well, this temporary work will pay those for the duration, and give us a little extra." She shook her red hair. "We know we'll remember, and that we have control over what we consent to... So..." Liz nodded. She'd seen a lot of cases like this, and she silently cursed the system that allowed it. But...

"Well, I can definitely appreciate that you've understood your rights under the skillswitch program, so I'll give you the legal waiver forms now, and I'll leave you to it." They both nodded, firm now, and Liz, inwardly, sighed.

Sometimes, she hated her job. She hadn't mentioned it, but it was the biggest sign she wasn't skillswitched. But she'd also worked here long enough not to really note how the applicants looked. After all... It didn't really matter, once they started.

Later

By contrast, the conversion room was not comfortable. It was functional. And it was already at least partly occupied, with masked figures, otherwise naked, held reclined on flat tables. Alex's eyes widened "How many people are there, anywa-" Liz held up her hand, sharply.

"I'm sorry, Alex, but your position started the moment you signed, and, as such, there are no more questions to be asked, only prompt assumption of orders. So, if you'll both lie in your assigned tables, as B413-A and B413-B, that would be grand, thank you. No need to undress, that will be taken care of." Alex and Tiffany stared, but quickly stepped up onto their tables, lying back. Liz nodded, and smiled a little. "See you in six months."

Alex and Tiffany both stiffened as they felt a needle enter their arms, and then... They were grateful for the supports. The supports stopped them falling off, and the headsets that had firmly clasped around their heads kept them from slumping uncomfortably. It was relaxing, to be converted. All their needs would be taken care of. It would be useful to sleep, so they could be told how to serve well, be even more useful. And Liz nodded to herself as they fell asleep, as the machine neatly undressed them both, and, once that was done, she pulled the remote out of her pocket, and pushed a button, returning the room to its complete state. Further elements of the conversion machines slowly pulled out, the vibes and the kneaders, and the masks of the drones further along in the conversion process lit up, happy LED smiles with artful, LED blushes.

Arousal was an important step, as if people didn't feel good during the process, the subliminals didn't take nearly as well. They would both, like the others, be happy obedient drones. Looking back at the clipboard, she chuckled. "Exhibitionism, huh? Oh, yes, the check under it is right there, good... Well, best get to it, we've got another four coming in today." She sighed.

Softness

B413-A had no trouble accepting. The fears, the painful thoughts, simply drifted away, and they welcomed the pink fog replacing them. They were loved, and, in turn, they loved to serve. They would wear the suit assigned, and, seeing it in their mind, they were pleased. It would show them off so well, and it would easily be cleaned, ready for as much service as they wanted. And their name was diminutive. They were Bee, and they were always ready to please.

B413-B, meanwhile, was a bad drone. They welcomed this, also. They were hard, they were strong, proud in the almost nakedness they were promised. They would serve, it was true. It was good to serve, to smile, and to moan loudly their appreciation of service. But they would serve by dominating others, by ensuring that drones were at maximum efficiency. Drones could still be a little independent, and that wasn't always wanted.

Service Week 1, Day 3, Hour 1

They had been given their assigned uniforms during their preparation, while they slept, and, as their first task, they were to check their uniforms in the double mirrors. B413-B was first, and admired themselves. Their buttocks were on display, as were their breasts and dick, and they noted, with amusement, their face subtly different to Bee's. A narrowing of the eyes, a blush less pronounced, and their smile... A catlike w. And catlike they would be, toying with any drone fool enough to be assigned punishment.

Bee twirled as they assessed themselves. They were going to please, and the openness of their uniform meant they didn't have to think about teasing, about coyness. They were here to serve with their bodies, and the Masters had thought of everything in that regard. Their smile was bright, with lots of room for that wide O of pleasure, that would open to reveal their cushioned mouth, ready to be filled with cum. They were going to be good. They were going to be the bestest servant!

Their duty complete, they waited, silently, for instructions. Quarters assigned, similar, in a sense, to the conversion tables, restful, and with machines that would simultaneously take care of their needs, and keep them in a state of arousal for their assigned duties. Wordlessly, they walked, Bee's ass waving as they did so, B413-B's walk purposeful. And their suits gave them little jolts of pleasure as they did, rewarding them for assuming their roles so easily.

Service Week 1, Day 3, Hour 7: B413-B

B413-B pinched one nipple, hard, and A789-C's mask assumed a pained expression, their sharp cry arousing B413-B. "Ah! I apologise, I-" B413-B increased the pressure, slapping the drone's rubbery ass as they did.

"This is unacceptable, A789-C. Your mask already informed me you were about to make an excuse, not an admission of what you did to lessen your efficiency. Now, you will inform me of your error, and I will select a suitable punishment. Until then..." They walked their way around the suspended drone, selected a paddle, and brought it firmly down upon their ass, eliciting another cry of pain. "...I will be paddling you until you do so." A raising of the arm, and a hard swing, another cry.

It only took a few paddles for them to cry out what they had done. "I... I wasn't moaning hard enough, loud enough! I was reported by my assigned Master for not pleasing them verbally! Please, I want to... AOOWWWW, try again!" They were almost weeping now, and B413-B smiled. Another chastised. Well, mostly. He strolled around again, placing the paddle on the table as he went, and hunched over, his mask close to the drone's, his cat-mouth in a tall smile.

"You do not get to 'try again' with an assigned Master once they are displeased. You please, or you are below efficiency. This time, it was in unacceptable limits, so you are limited to oral duty for one week. And you will start with me." A789-C was lowered, and they were soon on their feet, their arms still raised. "Kneel. I have to test whether you're inefficient at this too." They did so without question, and B413-B's smile softened. Slightly. Looking up, mouth already assuming the position, chest forward... Normally, their hands would be on their thighs, but circumstances didn't permit.

Guiding their dick toward A789-C's mouth, they reached behind the mask, and pulled them deep. Their gag reflex was suppressed, as it was in all drones, but they still gagged, gulping as the cock forcefully plunged down their throat. Good. Moving the other hand down to their breast, to grip firmly, a little painfully (this was still a punishment, after all), they drew their hips back and thrust, pulling the mask back and fore as A789-C gagged, and moaned, at acceptable volume, moans intensifying as their breasts was punished. "Twelve minutes should be enough to test, although you're showing a promising rise in efficiency. Should you pass, you will be assigned staff relief duties, for the time being."

Their own efficiency had been unquestioned so far, and they firmly resolved not to let that efficiency drop. After all, punishment drones were a lynchpin of the organisation, and, as such, they were punished harder for efficiency violations.

Service Week 1, Day 3, Hour 8: B413-A, Designation "Bee"

Bee sank gratefully into their resting pod, emitting pleased, tired noises as the thrum of her care system vibrated in the manner they had been conditioned to understand as "reward state." Their mask supported it, telling them they'd been a good drone, who deserves a rest, who is loved for such good service. They shivered, cumming into the crotch receptacle, and their smile widened with a short moan. She would be given an hour, maybe two, of gently being cradled, pleasured and warmed with the buzz of their care system, fed to keep them in shape. And all the while, they would hear the mask reaffirming that their service was valued, that they'd pleased.

They remembered it well, the bucking of their hips as they cried out, moaned, filled with their Master's dick, moving their ass gently as they landed, so as to engulf the whole length, while, all the time, they loudly and profusely thanked their Masters for the cum they were going to receive, cupping and rubbing their outstretched chest with practiced movements as they were fucked, and masturbated over. They were extra good this time, because they'd managed a simultaneous orgasm, shouting their horny affirmation over and over as the cum splashed over their chest, and they pushed their ass down, milking the twitching, spurting cock inside them, trying to get it all inside, and rubbing their body, making sure to cover every inch of their tummy, chest, and thighs.

One or two even gave them a second reward, groaning as they came all over their "dirty bitch." They'd been chastised for that as they left, because it was outside the bounds of their experience, but Bee hadn't minded. Masters had deviations, they sometimes did unexpected things, and, so long as it wasn't in the realms of Not Allowed, Bee was happy. Happy to serve.

Good drone... This one is a good drone... They dozed, pleasantly, resting their head in the cradle and smiling softly. Soon, they would serve again, and they were looking forward to it.

Service Week 4, Day 6, Hour 3: B413-A, Designation "Bee"

Bee stood at attention, and C984-C ("Cici") stood also, awaiting their commands. There were quite a few Masters this time. But only a few were stood, so either the majority were going to watch (Bee couldn't suppress a shiver of delight) or they were going to take turns (another shiver.) Still, they both awaited their first command.

"Cici, kneel on all fours in front of Bee. Bee, kneel, crotch forward. Cici is going to pleasure you with your mouth." Even with the identity of Masters not being important (only their pleasure), Bee appreciated the prompt tone of command. The Masters knew what they wanted. And they, in turn, wanted to please. So Bee gasped in pleasure, turning it to moans as they were given head, the mask extruding so as to engulf appropriately, and Cici, in turn, was loud in their appreciation. Raising their hands, subtly looking to the Master who spoke for approval, the Master nodded, and they firmly gripped the back of Cici's head, rocking into them as they were pleased.

And the Masters who stood moved. Two to Cici, and two to Bee. Bee's own mask extruded, as they found their own head gripped, guided and pressed firmly into the Master's crotch, and they moaned, their tongue working their way around, and over, as they were penetrated from behind with a strapon, their chest played with. Cici was also engaged, but Bee didn't care. They were both pleasing the Masters, and if they did well, they would be rewarded. Like a finely oiled machine, they moved together, bodies entwining as they were fucked, shaking their hips, both trying, even through the noisy lappings, and gulpings, and moanings, to thank their Masters, enjoying the pleasure because pleasing was, itself, a reward. And when the Master in front of them came, Bee drank deep, licking them clean with mewlings of pleasure, smiling up at them with adoration, and they got the best reward.

"Oh, you are such a good little drone. I'll have to come back and enjoy you personally." Bee came, their head thrown back as they thrust their hips into Cici, then throwing their hips back as the Master behind them thrust hard, holding that strapon inside... The Masters withdrew, and Bee could see Cici, pounded by both their Masters as they continued pleasing Bee. And they could see what the other Masters were doing.

They were fucking each other, all facing Bee and Cici, and Bee almost came there and then... They were so pleased at their service, they were fucking in front of them! Three of the Masters disengaged, and one smiled. "You can get on all fours now, apart from Cici. We want to reward you a little more." Bee nodded, and enthusiastically assumed their position. They looked up as the leader kneeled "Ah, such a big cock, I'm not sure I can- MMPH!" They could, of course, but it so pleased the Masters to hear the words they wanted to hear. Adorable, suckable, big... Good drones listened to their masks, and Bee was a good drone. A good drone who lifted their ass to take another dick, and cried in pleasure between the noisy oral as the third Master put their head between Bee's legs, gripping Bee's ass with one hand as they serviced them, and, from the sounds of it, playing with themselves as they did.

And, through it all, through the moans of the Masters as they fucked, fucked each other, fucked Bee and Cici, the best sound of all could be heard, from different places.

"Oh, these are such good drones, they're so pliant and needy and... Ohhhyes, right there!"

When it was done, they lay there, pooled with cum, smiling idiotically as the Masters left. After they had cleaned up, still smiling, they sashayed to the door, and while neither were thinking of how the other was feeling, they both seemed to know that they were going to enjoy their next resting period.

Service Week 13, Day 5, Hour 11: B413-B

B413-B mused to themselves as they thrust into C984-C. It wasn't often that a punishment drone was assigned to reward another drone, but they were content. After all... Punishment, incentive... They were both raising efficiency, ensuring that all drones gave the best pleasure. It helped that they had been fitted with an extra cock beforehand. But it was the first time their duty was public, and B413-B, as such, had greater incentive to perform well.

Cici, as she was designated, was suspended by their arms and legs, and they weren't saying anything, incoherently moaning as the Masters masturbated over them both, Cici's breasts plunging back and forth with each forceful, rapid thrust. B413-B held their arms behind their head, showing effortless poise as their hips were thrust. B413-B was efficient, and it pleased them. Not for them the cries of "good drone" , although it certainly made Cici moan louder, with even less language control than she previously demonstrated. Some of the Masters stepped forward, and played with Cici's breasts, kneading them, pinching the nipples and running their fingers along.

B413-B's cat-like smile deepened. Yes, this was a good reward for them. But the mask relayed extra orders, and B413-B complied. "Yes, that's it, Masters. Enjoy Cici while I'm pounding their slutty holes. They enjoy the attention, they enjoy your cum, and you've driven her a little senseless with all that praise and masturbation. She's a good, cummy little drone, and I want you all to do your best as I am, to let her know how much her dirty moanings and mewlings please you." B413-B had improvised a little, but they noted with pleasure that their reward had been increased. It increased further when, without breaking rhythm, they messily came inside Cici, still thrusting as they finished. Cici's reward was going to be tiring, but the extra rest period was part of it, and B413-B stayed silent as they thrust. They had a role to play, and they played it well.

Cici's suit was, by the time the reward finished, covered with cum, the mask obscured, their mouthpiece dripping, and hanging limp. The Masters had left, and B413-B released them, legs first, and supported them as the arms were released. The back of the mask parted to reveal their hair, and B413-B stroked it, cradling them gently. "Did you enjoy your reward, Cici? The Masters have been so pleased this past week, they specifically requested it." Cici looked up, and one hand weakly wiped away some of the cum to reveal a beaming smile.