Dingo Drone

A spider like robotic headset is unleashed on the word, set to find a girl to attach itself to, brainwashing her

“Off you go, pets. You have your instructions... find me some good girls!”

DIGOS Unit ‘Amby’ grinned as she watched the latest development in mobile assimilative technology scuttle forward in an expanding arc. Each of the variant model ‘proxies’ surging down the street or scuttling up apartment block walls was an overturned DIGOS dome mask of glossy purple, albeit ones that sported six pairs of tiny legs and a trailing interface cable, giving them an unsettling, insect-like appearance. Their mission? Well, that was something that one Raquel Ross was about to discover.

“What the…”

At the sound of a clattering thump coming from her lounge and interrupting a very relaxing shower, Raquel cut the water flow, frowning. The tan-skinned, dark-haired young woman pushed open the stall door, leaning around and listening for further sounds of feline mischief?

“Rasmus? What are you up; get down from there!”

What had her dumb cat knocked over this time, Raquel wondered sourly. No doubt he was on her shelves again and knocking off her stuff, again.

Clatter-Clatter.

“Rasmus!”

+++ TARGET ACQUIRED +++

As the proxy confirmed the presence of a humanoid target within its immediate vicinity, the pale pink text scrolled by across the surface of the visor. It scuttled forward to the edge of the table it had landed on, then hopped off, landing at just the precise moment that a towel-wearing, dripping wet and rather annoyed Raquel leaned around the door.

“Rasmus, I swear…”

Raquel’s anger vanished and she trailed off as she spotted not Rasmus causing mayhem, but a weird-ass looking purple robot on the floor of her lounge.

“Uh…where the fuck did you come from?”

The robot, made from what looked like glossy, opaque plastic and supported by tiny legs, turned in her direction.

+++ TARGET ACQUIRED +++

Raquel blinked in confusion as she noticed the glowing letters on the top of the illuminated drome, mouthing out the words they spelled.

“Target…acquired? Wait, WHAT?”

As the proxy got moving again, its tiny legs pumping to propel it forward to its intended target, Raquel cried out, clutching the towel tightly.

“STAY BACK! WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU ARE!”

+++ HEAR THE LINK – LET IT GUIDE YOU TO FULFILLMENT! +++

Raquel let out another shriek of surprise and horror, only catching half of what was being relayed to her by the proxy as it advanced on her. The emoticon flashing on the visor, that of a toothy, eager shark maw, only made the whole situation feel more surreal – and disturbing.

“STAY BACK!”

She whirled around, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon to defend herself. There wasn’t much. She couldn’t get past to the weird thing to her front door, not without it rearing up menacingly and letting out a chiding bleep. Nor could she reach her kitchen or storage closet, which left…

“I’M W-WARNING YOU!”

Her towel. Unconcerned with her nakedness, Raquel pulled the towel off her, quickly folded it in half and flailed at the proxy, wielding it like a whip. If she could hit it hard enough to knock it over, perhaps then she could escape…whatever the fuck it was and wanted with her.

Thwack!

Raquel grinned as she managed to strike the proxy solidly, sending it skittering over in a tumbling roll. It landed on its back, legs twitching and emitting annoyed-sounding chirping sounds and seemingly in a state of twitching distress.

Hah! Take that, you…you…uh-oh…

Raquel gulped as she watched the robotic…thing…roll back and forth and then right itself with the aid of the prehensile, tail-like interface cable. She hadn’t had time to get half-way across the lounge when the scuttling proxy caught up with her.

“OW!” Raquel grimaced, swatting futilely as the proxy latched onto her leg and expertly scuttled up her, digging in its legs into her skin. “GET OFF!”

+++ PREPARE TO BE ASSIMILATED – PREPARE TO BE EMBRACED BY THE LINK+++

The ‘warning’ flashed up as the proxy latched onto its target’s face, gripping tightly now as she blindly attempted to pull it off. And it had more than one little trick up its sleeve to quell the resistance of its target; the ‘interface connector’ at the end of the tail-cable wasn’t phallic in design for nothing…

“O-Oh my… “

Behind the visor being held in place squarely over her face, Raquel’s eyes bulged in abject shock as something suddenly forced its way between her netherlips, penetrating her and tearing a pleasured groan from her lips. The towel slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers and she staggered forward, tumbling and falling over and onto her sofa as she struggled against both the forceful embrace of both the visor and the squirming intrusion of its sex-interface.

It was time for the creation of a new ‘dronie’. Or at least, the first stage of assimilation. The proxies would ‘soften’ up targets, enabling for full drone creation to occur at a time and place of DIGOS’s choosing. If this trial deployment was successful, proxies could be released en-masse…leading to ‘part-baked’ shark drones marching to their full ‘shake ‘n’ bake’ in assimilation pods.

It would be a glorious parade of future DIGOS Dronies!

“A-Ah…n-no…stop!”

Twitching and panting, her breath misting on the inside of the dome-visor now beginning to pulse rhythmically, Raquel struggled to withstand the hypno-erotic onslaught. The sex-interface was penetrating deeply now, using her own natural lubrication against her to keep her in a pleasure-stricken state, unable to do little more than pant and moan.

Flash!

Now Raquel’s attention was firmly on the visor…locked on the flickering swirls and compelling flashes that kept her eyes wide and unblinking. Fed a continuous loop of subliminal reprogramming.

+++ 1% +++

On the outside surface of the visor, picked out in the white-glowing text, appeared a percentage readout. It allowed DIGOS Units to monitor the assimilation of drones, giving them an indication of how long might be left until completion. It was also a kinky little thrill to watch the numbers go up…and up…

+++ 3% +++

“D-DIGOS…DIGOS…”

Lying almost motionless now, her struggles fully quelled as the hypno-erotic reprogramming wormed its way into her oh-so-malleable mind, Raquel mumbled the unfamiliar words and concepts being fed to her.

“D-Drone…DIGOS Drone…”

DIGOS Shark Drones were so happy, she was told, over and over again. Lewd Images and erotic fantasies of being encased in shiny and oh-so-sexy sculpted plas-panels and sleek, tight latex were fed into her subconscious. She was encouraged, in no small part by the now steadily vibrating sex-interface, to lust after the simulated sensations. For being a happy shark drone, one among many, and serving the DIGOS Units, toiling for the cause – mostly by getting fucked in any number of pleasurable ways.

“Happy Little Dronie…guh…I…”

+++ 12% +++

Raquel’s mind was being washed clean of all elements of the pesky little personality, her personality, that kept trying to resist reprogramming. Then she heard it: The Link, the compelling whispers of the semi-hivemind connection, that all drones participated in. A mental web binding them into a gestalt ‘workforce.’

Silly little shark drone…you don’t need a name…just a number...

“R-Raquel! My n-name is…”

Like trying to hold so many slippery wet fish in her hands, Raquel now struggled to hold onto any kind of normal thought and scrap of personality, even something as basic as her own name, as all conscious human thought was being drowned out by the Link and imparting upon her everything a happy little dronie needs to function in DIGOS society.

“Name is…name…”

+++ 25% +++

“…irrelevant…drones…don’t need a name…”

The vibration intensified again, rewarding the drone with a burst of stimulating pleasure. The shark maw emoticon curled into a savage, sultry smile, indicating the proxy’s success.

“I’m…a happy DIGOS Drone…”

+++ 35% +++

“…and will seek full assimilation…I will listen to the Link..it will guide me…”

+++ 40% -- STAGE ONE ASSIMILATION COMPLETE +++

Partly muffled by the visor, the new dronie groaned heavily and went into climatic spasm as the peak reward it could expect, a heavy orgasm, was induced. Dripping down her inner thighs as the sex-interface withdrew from the molten mess her nethers had become, she calmly rose from the sofa and dressed. Soon she would no longer need clothing and it now felt silly and pointless to put it on but was commanded by the proxy not to bring undue attention to herself as she made her way to the nearest DIGOS facility.

Of course, it would be hard for anyone not to notice the steady flow of visor-wearing drones streaming from other apartment buildings, quiet alleys and warehouses. A veritable parade of ‘part-baked dronies’, all marching with blissful smiles behind the impassive purple visors, and all eager fully experience and participate in the Link, serving their assigned Units to the best of their abilities and in whatever function was deemed fit for them…