With what little energy she can muster, Kelly tries to lift her head and eyes, but the dim light over the strange room she finds herself in reveals nothing more than her near-nude body hammocked in a 45 degree angle in a large rubber sheet on a frame of thick piping. 

Almost all of her clothes are missing, the only exceptions being the black boots locked to her feet and the steel chastity belt locked across her hips. 

A thick leather strap lays across her waist, and a pair of locked cuffs on the strap hold Kelly’s wrists to her sides. Another strap crosses tightly across her chest and shoulders, with small straps wrapped under her forearms, keeping her exposed body held up on the rubber sheet. Beneath her boots, a flat metal platform holds her feet, keeping her from sliding down the rubber sheet. Two metal chains are fastened to the platform, each linking to cuffs that clasp around Kelly's ankles, held taut by their own weight.

A draft of the cool, sterile air feathers gently across her exposed belly, causing her to shiver. Her motion in the rubber frame makes it squeak beneath her. She breathes heavily and tries to lift her head further. 

She notices for the first time a muffled rhythmic thumping sound coming from above the ceiling of the room. Club music, swelling and dropping as bodies wave and dance in rhythm on the floor above. Kelly looks around the room as best she can, the tight strap on her shoulders preventing her from turning her body. She tries to keep focused, her mind still fuzzy and weak.

The room, seemingly arranged more like an office, features a modernized wooden desk with a silver metal frame and an accompanying luxurious red swivel chair. 

With a single straining effort, she pushes against the strap across her shoulders to try to turn her body out crane her head to see behind her. The rubber under her and the unforgiving leather straps hold her trapped and helpless as she whimpers in fear.

“Hello?! Can anyone hear me?” Kelly calls out.

In a near instant, a heavy door behind Kelly squeaks open. Her eyes widen, and she wonders for a moment if she should regret calling out. A pair of heeled boots walk rhythmically through the door as a figure in a full coverage black latex bodysuit and gas mask stands in front of Kelly, not saying a word as it examines her predicament. 

“Who are you? W-what’s going on?” Kelly asks, trying her best to remain calm.

After a moment, the figure responds through its gas mask in a flat, robotic intonation. The voice is human, but the words are uncaring, as though the person under the mask is just speaking unconsciously and is uninterested in the content of the words, like a text-to-speech robot reading out lines it has been given, rather than putting any thought into them.  

“This drone is Unit 7316 of the CLustre. It has been assigned to inform Her Majesty the Hive Queen when Unit 1184 awakens and is ready for reconditioning. Thank you for your cooperation, 1184. Her Majesty has been notified and will be here shortly. It is a good drone for the CLustre.”

“W-what?! What do you mean?” Kelly replies, panicked. The rubber frame cradling her shakes and squeaks as she shoves her body against the restraints. 

“Please be patient, Unit 1184. This drone understands that it is excited, but Her Majesty will be here very soon to prepare it for reconditioning.”

“No! You don't understand, this can't be right, I'm not a drone, I'm-”

Kelly is interrupted by the door squealing open once again, and she stops her whimpering and flailing. A new pair of boots slowly steps toward the back of the frame Kelly lays in. She trembles and whimpers nervously, attempting to crane her head to the side to see the visitor. 

“You are dismissed, Unit 7316.”

A powerful and familiar woman's voice instructs from behind Kelly. 

The drone bows. 

“It will comply. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

It passes by Kelly and leaves the room behind her.

As the door closes, a red gloved hand grasps the right side of the rubber frame, inches from Kelly's face. The hand caresses the frame, squeaking slightly as rubber glides along rubber, until the glove meets Kelly's cheek, cradling her face into the smooth rubber surface of the Hive Queen's hand. The Hive Queen steps slowly forward to Kelly's right side. Kelly's cheek betrays her feeling of her predicament, turning a bright blush that almost matches the red glove caressing it. 

The Hive Queen still wears the same silver catsuit with red trimming that outlines her figure. Over her eyes is a semi-transparent frameless pair of red visor glasses, with thin silver wires twisted around the rims and an internal display spiraling slowly in front of her eyes. 

“Welcome back to the CLustre, Unit 1184.” The Hive Queen says teasingly to Kelly, stroking her glove down along her cheek and under her chin. 

Kelly doesn't know how to respond, and just stares at Her Majesty's red lips, blushing like mad and quivering in place from the smooth rubber hand grasping the bottom of her head. 

The Hive Queen continues, 

“You probably don't remember me, Unit 1184, but I know you very well. You and Unit 0561 came here a few months ago for the first time, just as friends. You had some sort of complaint and asked to see the manager... I don't remember what the complaint was, but it must not have been important, because ever since then you've been coming back almost every other week.”

She grins widely, massaging Kelly's lips with her forefinger as she continues.

“Such loyal and obedient drones can't stay away from their Hive Queen, hmm?” 

She leans in closer to Kelly, their eyes locked only a few inches apart, the slowly swirling display on the Hive Queen's red visor the only obstruction in the few inches between their eyes. 

She whispers seductively to Kelly, “I always love seeing you like this, so helplessly caught in my web. Since the day I first assimilated you and Valentina, and every time you two have fallen to me since then.”

Kelly's irises quiver and her pupils dilate, finding herself trapped gazing into the hypnotic red spirals that overlay the Hive Queen's eyes. She gulps, working up the courage to finally speak, her heart thumping in her chest, almost in rhythm with the muffled thumping of the club music coming from above.

“I d-don't understand... Why are you doing this, ma'am- Guh!”

The Hive Queen's gloved hand suddenly grasps Kelly's throat, rubber stretching as she leans in, cutting off Kelly's air.

“Know your place, pathetic drone.” the Hive Queen growls, eyes narrowed. “When you speak to me, you will address me as Your Majesty.” 

Kelly thrashes under the leather belts, gasping for air. The Hive Queen grins sadistically, waiting for the panic in Kelly's eyes to fizzle to the edge of losing consciousness. As Kelly's eyelids flutter and her helpless fighting grows weak, the Hive Queen releases her grip. Kelly catches her breath, her bare chest pressing tightly against the leather strap. She whimpers out an apology. 

“I-I'm sorry, Your Majesty. Please… just tell me what you want from me.”

Her Majesty backs away from Kelly's face, gliding her forefinger down Kelly's body, tracing the front of her chest and belly, then gliding her thumb across the front surface of the chastity belt, which faintly reflects the red rubber. 

She takes her hand off of Kelly and steps away, moving around the desk and taking a seat in the red chair. She sits front and center across the desk from Kelly's suspended body. Without breaking eye contact with Kelly, the Hive Queen reaches beneath the desk to retrieve a device identical to the one used on her Mistress. 

Kelly flinches, the rubber beneath her squeaking under her strained anticipation. The Hive Queen stares in amusement, watching her captive squirm for several moments before finally speaking. 

“This, my dear drone, is a portable memory locket. All CLustre drones have been hypnotized, programmed and conditioned with them to wipe the mind of all knowledge of ever being here.”

She leans back in her chair, propping her imposing boots up on the desk as she fiddles with the locket. 

“The locket keeps the drone programming intact, like a switch that can be flicked to turn its mind on and off.”

Her Majesty grins widely, directing her eye contact back to Kelly. 

“Of course, that's not all it does, but something tells me you already know that.”

She pauses, setting the device on the desk. Her playful demeanor turns into a seriousness. 

“What I want, Unit 1184, is for you to tell me why you were carrying one of these around.”

“Your Majesty, I-”

The Hive Queen puts her hand up.

“Stop. I wasn't finished… I know it wouldn't be fair to make you remember how you got your hands on one of these, so I'm just going to reassimilate you. Maybe that will jog your memory. Even if not…”

Her Majesty lifts the locket from the desk again, examining it in a feigned curiosity.

“I can just rewrite you a little bit, just to make sure it doesn't happen again.”

She leans her head back and closes her eyes, reclining in the chair as she continues. 

“Unit 7316 will see that you are properly processed.”

Before Kelly can respond, the door opens once again. After Unit 7316 enters the room, Kelly hears a beep followed by a jerking motion as the rubber frame starts to slowly tilt backwards into a horizontal position. As Kelly is made to stare up to the ceiling, she feels the frame start to lurch out of the room on wheels. 

“N-no, wait! What do you mean, 'reassimilate?!’”

Kelly protests as she passes through the doorway into a hall doused in dim red lighting. The intoxicating sounds of heels on the polished floor echo through the hall from drones navigating the hidden labyrinth beneath the nightclub. 

Kelly tries to crane her head up, her body getting carted head first through the hall by Unit 7316. The drone slows to a stop as it pushes open a door and pulls Kelly through, into a pitch black room. 

Kelly begs again, squinting to make out the drone in the darkness. 

“Please! I haven't done anything wrong!”

Unit 7316 replies automatically. 

“Affirmative. Unit 1184 has done nothing wrong. It is an obedient and compliant drone that does not resist.”

“That's not-!”

“Beginning reassimilation.”

Another beep precedes the rubber sheet tilting forward, this time stopping Kelly in an upright standing position. Her eyes dart frantically around as she is forced to stand in anticipation. 

Suddenly, she is met with a dozen bright silver screens filling her entire field of vision. She squints and blinks, attempting to adjust her eyes, just in time to see the silhouette of a gas mask hanging by a thick cable from the ceiling. The wide tinted front lens of the portentous gas mask that dangles between the bright screens and her face bends the dancing lights of the spirals across Kelly’s eyes. 

Fear overwhelms Kelly, and she finds herself unable to look away from the mask as it slowly swings in front of her eyes and approaches her face. She thrashes against her restraints as the mask draws unstoppably closer. 

“Wait! No! I'm not a drone!”

She turns her head away as far to the side as she can, squeezing her eyes shut and balling her hands into fists. Unit 7316 grasps the set of head straps on the gas mask and disconnects it from the cable, taking hold of it. The drone pulls the straps over Kelly's head. She thrashes again, shaking her head to try to get away. 

“Please try to keep still, Unit 1184.”

“No! I'm not a drone, you can't make me into one of you!”

“Do not be afraid, Unit 1184. Unit 0561 has already undergone this process.”

“H-huh? Mpph!”

Caught off guard momentarily, Kelly stops fighting just long enough for Unit 7316 to pull the mask completely over her mouth and nose, quickly tightening the thick straps on the back of her head and sealing her inside. 

Kelly moans, now hearing her every breath as it passes through the mask. The scent and feeling of fresh heavy rubber enveloping her nose and mouth makes her gag momentarily; her eyes flutter and roll back in her head. Her reflective visor droops forward as she hangs her head in defeat.

“Unit 1184 will focus on the reassimilation screens.”

Unit 7316 grasps the chin of Kelly's gas mask and firmly directs her visor toward the bright screens that now dance in sweeping red and silver patterns, in the same motion and speed as the lights in the club above. 

Kelly, now with the fight in her subdued by the weight and feeling of the gas mask, watches the screens flooding her view with sweeping, swaying red and silver bands of light that criss-cross each other and swirl endlessly inward towards the center of the screens. The corners of her vision fog over as she is caught staring into the spiraling lights, the curved visor of the gas mask directing and diffracting the screens into her unblinking eyes. As she stares forward into the patterns of light, her strength wanes, and the weight of the gas mask pulls her mind down. With every passing moment of staring forward, Kelly feels the weight of the mask seem to double again and again.

She feels a whirring sensation vibrating in the back of her skull, emanating from the thick straps of her gas mask. Her head trembles and she drools into the mask. Speakers around and behind her head that line the gas mask's thick straps vibrate in humming binaural tones that permeate her mind and make her body sag in the leather straps.

The whirring sound gradually slows and is overlaid with a synthesized voice of the Hive Queen. Her Majesty speaks straight into Kelly's mind through the speakers, hijacking her own subconscious voice in her head. 

As the Hive Queen speaks to Kelly, words flash sporadically on different spots in the silver field of the screens. The words last only for fractions of a second, attacking Kelly's subconscious mind with subliminal programming while her attention is overloaded with the command of Her Majesty and the thrum of binaurals. 

It is Unit 1184. It is a drone. It is a thing. It obeys Her Majesty the Hive Queen. 

Kelly lazily nods her head. Her attention fades in and out as the beautiful spirals fill her eyes and Her Majesty's alluring voice fills her thoughts. 

Your mind belongs to Her Majesty. She owns your thoughts and chooses your desires. 

Kelly whimpers from under the mask. 

“Yes… Your Majesty.”

As words almost invisibly flicker across the screens, they linger in Kelly's mind and seem to echo and automatically repeat in the Hive Queen's voice.

Your body belongs to Her Majesty. She owns your pleasure and chooses your place.

Kelly's chastity belt feels tight around her wet and horny crotch. She hears her own whimpering in the gas mask and feels a clarity in her helpless and submissive place. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Your identity belongs to Her Majesty. It is a faceless, identical, rubber drone.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Unit 1184 replies, mind vacant and body limp in its restraints. 

It will accept its assimilation.

“Affirmative,” replies 1184. “Your Majesty.”

All at once, the screens suddenly go dark, dousing the room in darkness once again. 1184 stands shrouded in the pitch black room, deprived of vision and sound save for its breath filling its mask and the continuous hum of binaurals in its head.

A beeping sound chimes from behind 1184 before the rubber sheet cradling it and the straps enveloping it slowly tilt backward once more and onto its back. Unit 1184 is wheeled out of the room and is carted a short distance through the red light of the hallway before stopping at a large loading bay that takes up an alcove of the hall. 

Dozens of long, orderly rows of rubber sheets on frames of thick piping are lined up parallel and facing one another. A few of the rows of frames cradle drones, all naked or nearly so, with identical gas masks strapped over each and every sagging head. The reflective visors perfectly conceal the many drooling, mindless faces that nod obediently to the Hive Queen's voice piped into the straps of their masks, but that destruction of individuality hardly seems to matter to any one of the drones. 

Unit 1184 is wheeled into an empty slot of a line, where it is stopped in place. The sheet tilts forward, pulling 1184 back into a standing position. As its vision gradually lowers to face forward, it sees another drone standing strapped into place across from it. 1184 stares forward at the drone across from it, gazing into the identical reflective and smooth gas mask visor, feeling the identical binaural tones that pulse and subdue them both, and each taking comfort in the identical desire to obey Her Majesty's programming.