Sarah blinked, slowly coming back into consciousness. "Hey." Bleary-eyed, Sarah turned her head, seeing Delilah laying on her side next to her. Sarah stirred, confused, before she realized where the squeaking was coming from. She was in a latex catsuit, every inch from the neck down covered in slick, shiny rubber. She was lying in bed, but not her bed. Her bed didn't have sheets of thick, black latex. Slowly, things started to come together. The package. The headset. The pulsing sounds, the flashing lights...waking up, a brief gasp for air, before being sucked back down into mindless bliss. She could feel the remnants of the programming imprinted on her mind, like rope marks the morning after. She remembered, barely, what it was like as her mind was replaced with programming. What it was like to be a Drone. What it was like to hammer on the door of the pod, trapped, helpless, as her Mistress watched, smirking. She rubbed her head, looking up at her Mistress. 

"W-where are we?" 

"We're on level 1 of Hive 26, but I don't think that's helpful. We're also about 20 minutes from home." Sarah blinked as her faculties returned. 

"What happened?" Delilah beamed, practically bouncing with excitement. 

"What happened is *I* negotiated a killer deal, *and* you are the proud new head reporter for Glamoured magazine! Part owner too." Sarah stared, trying to process everything. 

"What?" Delilah smirked, dragging a long finger across Sarah's latex-clad flank, making her breath hitch.

"It's simple. There's a bunch of people who have a bunch of brainwashed broken cuties doing their bidding...and there's nothing that kind of person loves more than recognition. So we're going to create a magazine just for them...we'll give interviews, do photoshoots, and review and compare their different methods for breaking brains~" 

"B-but how are we gonna compare them?" Delilah straddled Sarah's form, smirking.

"How do you think?" she asked, leaning in close, letting her hands wander. Sarah's eyes widened. 

"B-but..." Delilah shushed her, planting a finger on her lips. 

"You remember being programmed right? Or do you need a...reminder?" Sarah, now a flustered, blushing mess, nodded. Delilah smirked. 

"Alright then, I'll give you a reminder~" 

"Wait, no!" Sarah exclaimed, struggling as Delilah forced the gas mask over her face, although she didn't struggle for long. Delilah looked down, and smiled.

Three weeks later, the first issue of Glamoured magazine shipped. Based on a tip, Delilah sent them out to the target audience. They arrived at a corporate high-rise, at a mental institution in the middle of cornfields, at a research lab deep in the forest, and more. Within the week, they were practically buried in new subscriptions and requests for interviews. At her desk in her new, significantly nicer apartment, Sarah typed away at next month's issue as Delilah dropped off a cup of coffee. Sarah looked up at her, and smiled.

This was going to be the beginning of something special. 

[END]