"Administrator Override: Temporarily restrict access to all normal memories; temporarily open access to Memory Set Dalet."

 

The drone sank to its knees and lowered its forehead to the floor. The drone did not know where it was, but that was irrelevant. The drone did not know its designation, but this was also irrelevant. The only things that were relevant were its knowledge of what would make its Master happy and what it meant to be compliant. The drone wanted its Master to be happy. The drone wanted to be in compliance.

 

The drone wondered what its Master would do with it. Its Master was capricious, cruel, and sadistic. This was good. By hurting the drone He would become happy. The drone could submit to the pain and be in compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance. The drone was not supposed to hope, but hoped its Master would hurt it.

 

"Sit up," its Master ordered. The drone sat up. The drone was naked except for a collar. The collar was tight and pinched at the drone. Its Master was fully clothed and seated in an armchair. Vaguely, the drone had a thought that its Master should have a cat in His lap and stroke it. The drone dismissed the thought; it was irrelevant. The drone kept its gaze lowered, avoiding its Master's face; the drone did not have permission for that beatific vision. Not looking at its Master's face was compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance.

 

"Have you been a good drone?" its Master asked. His voice was soft but cold. The drone was not supposed to thrill, but it thrilled to the menace cloaked in the soft, calm tone.

 

"This drone believes it is in compliance, but it is not this drone's function to determine that. Its Master will tell it if it is in compliance," the drone answered. The drone did not, of course, hope it had not been in compliance, but it knew its Master would be happy to have a pretext for punishing it. The drone wanted its Master to be happy. The drone also wanted to be in compliance. The drone was not supposed to hope, but it hoped its Master would punish it anyway. Perhaps its Master could punish it for being too compliant to give Him a reason for punishing it.

 

Its Master stood up. "You are a good drone," He said.

 

The drone brought its forehead to the ground again. "Thank You, Master," it said.

 

Its Master pulled on its hair to raise its head and looked directly at the drone's face. He was grinning and a gleam in His eye promised the drone that whatever was coming would make Him very happy. The drone wanted its Master to be happy. "I'm still going to hurt you," He said, and spat in the drone's face before releasing its hair.

 

The drone returned its forehead to the ground. "Thank You Master," it said "This drone awaits whatever its Master chooses to do to it."

 

"Whatever I choose to do?"

 

"Yes, Master. This drone exists to be used, hurt, and fucked for its Master's pleasure. Its only desire is to please and service its Master in whatever way He deems fit. This drone welcomes whatever its Master chooses to do to it if it makes Him happy." The drone was not supposed to feel happiness, but it was happy. It had affirmed its absolute commitment to compliance and its Master's happiness. The drone wanted to be in compliance. The drone wanted its Master to be happy.

 

Minutes later, the drone was tied to a bench; it noticed that the bench placed its ass and mouth at exactly the height of its Master's crotch. The drone was not supposed to want things, but it hoped its Master wanted to fuck it. Fucking it would make Him happy. The drone wanted its Master to be happy. But as time wore on it seemed its Master was only interested in hurting it. He had flogged the drone's back, caned its ass and thighs, and dripped hot sauce directly on its tongue. Now it Master was adding to the pain by alternating between dropping ice cubes and dribbling hot wax on its back. The drone was not supposed to like or dislike pain, but the pain was almost unbearable. The drone screamed but it did not ask its Master to stop. Hurting it made its Master happy. Pain was compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance.

 

The hot and cold stopped. Its Master was holding a glass of milk to its lips. "Drink," He said.

 

The milk was heaven on the drone's tongue, easing the agony of the spice it replaced. "Thank You, Master," it said. Its Master untied it from the bench. "Follow Me," He said, "but stay on your hands and knees." The drone's limbs had fallen asleep, but it managed to follow its Master, slowly, to the bed. The drone had never been allowed on the bed. In fact, the drone realized it had no memories of its Master sleeping. Its Master needed to sleep; sleep would make Him happy. The drone wanted its Master to be happy.

 

But now the drone was confused. It had realized its memories were not in compliance. It was missing significant chunks of time; it had no memories of itself sleeping, and the drone needed to sleep--not as much as its Master, obviously--to be able to serve its Master. Serving its Master was compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance. The drone also had no memories of itself eating. The drone was not hungry, so it knew it must have eaten somewhat recently, but it did not know when or what it had eaten. The drone had strict nutritional requirements, if it did not know what it had eaten it would not know what was appropriate for its next meal. The drone would not be in compliance!

 

"Administrator override: disregard memory noncompliance."

 

The drone relaxed. "Climb onto My bed," its Master ordered. The drone climbed up and its Master laid it out and began rubbing ointment onto its back and ass. The drone assumed the ointment was to help it heal so its Master could hurt it again without permanently damaging it. This was good. If the drone were permanently damaged it could not be in compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance.

 

"Thank You, Master," it said.

 

"Sleep," its Master ordered. "You need to rest up before your next ordeal."

 

The drone slept. The drone did not dream, but if it had its dreams would have been of its own compliance and a happy Master.

Once again the drone was tied to a bench. It had slept well (Query: How long has this drone slept? Response: Two hours. Access to further specificity has been restricted.) and was ready for whatever its Master wanted to do to it. The drone existed to be used, fucked, and hurt. Whatever its Master did to it would make Him happy and put the drone in compliance.

 

"Administrator override: Close access to Memory Set Dalet. Restrict drone's memories to initial factory knowledge only."

 

The drone did not know where it was, but that was irrelevant. The drone did not know its designation, but this was also irrelevant. The only thing that was relevant was its knowledge of what it meant to be compliant. The drone was tied to a bench. The drone had no instructions to take any actions in response to this. The drone was naked. The drone had no instructions to wear or not wear clothing. The drone did not know who its Controller was. The last was not compliant; the drone needed to know who its Controller was so it could make its Controller happy. Wanting the drone's Controller to be happy was compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance.

 

"Hello, fucktoy." The drone looked up. The words had come from a naked man standing in front of it. The drone did not recognize the man. (Query: Is this man the drone's controller? No response.) "Looks like someone left you alone. Good thing I found you." The drone knew that this was not a good thing. The man in front of it was not its Controller. The drone did not have permission to be in the presence of anyone other than its Controller. Being in the presence of this man was not compliant. And the man had called it a "fucktoy." This was accurate, the drone existed for its Controller's happiness and pleasure; if that included fucking the drone then the drone would be a fucktoy; being a fucktoy would be compliance. But this man was not the drone's Controller. He was a non-authorized user! If he fucked the drone the drone would not be in compliance!

 

"You are a non-authorized user," said the drone. "Please return this drone to its Controller."

 

"I don't know who that is, and honestly? I don't really care. You're here, bound and helpless, and I'm horny. I think we both know where this is going." The man was stroking his cock. The man was going to fuck the drone. The man was a non-authorized user! He could not be permitted to fuck the drone.

 

"You are a non-authorized user," the drone repeated. "Use of this drone without its Controller's permission--"

 

Slap! The man had slapped the drone in the face. "Shut up!" he said.

 

The drone had no instructions to obey a non-authorized user. It continued to speak. "--a crime under--"

 

The man roughly forced a gag into the drone's mouth as it spoke.

 

"I said shut up!"

 

The drone had no instructions to obey a non-authorized user. The drone had no instructions to respond to being gagged. The drone was not supposed to panic, but it was panicking. The drone was not in compliance! The drone was not in compliance!

 

The man was holding a dildo in front of the drone's face. It was long and thick. "I'm going to strap this on and fuck your pretty little ass, drone," he said. "And there's nothing you can do to stop Me."

 

The drone was going to be fucked by a non-authorized user! The drone would not be in compliance if this man fucked it!

 

The man walked behind the drone and began to trace a finger around its anus. This was pleasurable, but the drone was not supposed to like or dislike pleasure. But certainly the drone was not supposed to feel pleasure when used by a non-authorized user. The drone was hyperventilating, unable to maintain control of its breath. That was not compliant. The drone was going to be fucked! That would not be in compliance.

 

The finger slid inside the drone and began to fuck it. This was pleasurable. This was not compliant. The drone tried to scream, but it was gagged. It tied to thrash, but it was tied too tightly. The finger was followed by a second and then a third. The pleasure was replaced by pain; the man was not giving the drone enough time to adjust to the added girth. Its Controller might choose to do so in order to hurt the drone if its Controller liked hurting drones. Being hurt by its Controller would be in compliance. But this man was a non-authorized user! He was not supposed to hurt the drone. Being hurt by this man was not in compliance.

 

The fingers left its anus. The drone tensed, knowing what was coming, knowing it could not prevent it, knowing it was not in compliance. The dildo was agony when it entered the drone, too thick for the man's fingers to have adequately prepared its anus. The drone was not supposed to like or dislike pain, but it disliked this pain. This pain was felt not because its Controller wanted it to be in pain but because a non-authorized user was misusing the drone. What if the non-authorized user permanently hurt the drone? If the drone was permanently damaged it could never be in compliance again!

 

But the pain gave way to pleasure as the dildo repeatedly hit the drone's prostate. Again, and again as the drone tried to thrash, to scream, to do anything to stop its violation. And then the drone came.

"Administrator override: restore access to all memories."

 

Brian was shaking and sobbing. That was not compliant. But it had been scared. It knew now that the man who had been using it was its Boyfriend, and its Boyfriend had every right to use it however He wanted. He had not been in noncompliance after all. Brian was not supposed to feel relief, but it was relieved. This had been a game, a chance for its Boyfriend to exercise some of His most sadistic impulses. Exercising His most sadistic impulses had made Him happy. Brian wanted its Boyfriend to be happy.

 

But Brian had cum! Brian had not been given permission to cum. Cumming was not compliant. Brian wanted to be in compliance.

 

It tried to speak, but it was still gagged. Its Boyfriend removed the gag. "Ira," it said, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to cum without permission."

 

"But you did, Brian," said its Boyfriend. He was smiling, but Brian knew the smile was not meant to be reassuring. Its Boyfriend would not forgive it for its noncompliance. Its Boyfriend was going to punish it. Brian deserved to be punished; Brian had been noncompliant. Being punished was appropriate and would help Brian comply in the future. Punishing Brian was necessary for compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance.

 

"I'm going to get--sorry, going to have--to punish you for this, Brian," said its Boyfriend.

 

"Yes, Ira," said Brian. "Please punish me."

 

Brian's Boyfriend untied it. "Flip over onto your back," He ordered.

 

Brian complied. Its Boyfriend sat next to it and put His hand to Brian's cock. "Since you can't obey a simple rule like not cumming without permission," He said "I'm going to have to wring all the cum out of you so that this won't be an issue again."

 

"Yes, Ira."

 

Brian's Boyfriend began to stroke its cock. This hurt, its glans was still sensitive and its Boyfriend was not gentle with His strokes. Brian softened, its body trying to enter its refractory period. But the hand was insistent. Brian hardened again under it and came. It hurt this time, but not as much as the pain when its Boyfriend continued to stroke it. Brian's glans was in agony now and it screamed. It took a long time for Brian to cum again, even with its Boyfriend constantly, insistently stroking it, but it did. The third orgasm was torture, and only a tiny dribble of cum came out in response. But the stroking continued. Brian's Boyfriend was grinning, clearly enjoying Brian's agony. That, at least, was good. Brian wanted its Boyfriend to be happy.

 

There was no fourth orgasm. Brian's Boyfriend eventually gave up the effort to wring more cum out of it. But that did not mean He was done with Brian; there was still His own pleasure to consider. Its Boyfriend straddled its face and Brian quickly sucked on His cock; He orgasmed quickly.

 

"Good drone," said Brian's Boyfriend. He spat in Brian's open, waiting mouth. "Okay, come to bed. You've earned some serious cuddles."