Entry to the Brotherhood.
The air was dank, and his lungs were burning. After running all this time, the brick and concrete of the tunnels looked the same wherever he turned, here far beneath the familiar London of 2074. Above was the new city, a gleaming metropolis risen from the war wrecked, flooded ruins he was in now. Of course all the best, most exiting clubs, wetware modifiers, and hacker joints were at the base of the vast towers, and it was one of these sleazy, sex ridden clubs he’d been followed from. Here he was caked in real filth, and his wadersuit full of sweat. He thought of giving up, but the image of those masked hunters came back to him, and he pushed on.
Too much thought. Take the next turn. What the fuck! Sharp, sudden pain.
Blankness spread, hazing his brain. He was gone when his face hit the water.
Weird dreams now. Just snatches.
Prodding, pulling, tied down somehow.
Distorted voices, mechanical, nonsensical, “Begin skin prep”
“Completing metascan” “Key allotypes identified”
“Feeding tube inserted” “Cortical hookups operational”
Suddenly he was wide awake, a huge rush of consciousness, his eyes blinded by the lights focused on him.
“You have been chosen, congratulations brother, the preparation stage is complete.”
He tried to speak, but his mouth was a dry mess, and there was something hard in it. He struggled, but was still bound tight, he felt different, sore inside and out, and as he moved tight pulling sensations could be felt all over his body.
“You have been chosen to join The Brotherhood. It is what you asked for, what you crave, we have accepted. You will become us. Observe.”
A vid screen appeared in front of him, no wait, it wasn’t real, it was inside, in his brainbox. He’d never had a virtual imaging implant, shit, what had they done, some sort of headhacker clan, he was more fucked than he’d thought. He went back to the image, full, vivid, more than a simple holo, he could smell it, sense it on other levels, there was more information than he could perceive as yet. Then he nearly spewed, but gagged it back somehow, the image was him, all his hair was gone, not just his normal shaved head and balls, but from his toes to eyebrows, bum-crack to armpits. Somehow he knew it would not be growing back. There were lines and tubes everywhere, up his arse, cock, nose, mouth, IV lines into his limbs and neck, thin wires into every muscle group, a large box round his balls, thousands of wires right through his skull, and he could suddenly see from underneath, and the same wires fed through between each vertebra. He felt like he’d been kicked in the gut, stunned and numb. The he noticed something else, his cock was like a rock.
“See brother, this is your own choosing, you accessed our web nodes, we sensed you reaction, and have claimed you, we will remould you into the perversion you desire, your prick wants this and so do you” The voice might be right, he was really turned on, it beat the bondage games, real and virtual, he’d done so far, and he’d thought he was a right kinky bugger up to this point. His perceptions were still widening, as he focused on different parts of himself, little infotags popped up, testicular enlargement unit, muscle stims, CNS link electrodes, central venous access, faecal extraction tube. The technology level was amazing, top level defence or research stuff, how had these punks got it? His attention drifted, and then he could see inside himself, images of his internal organs, the info rush made him dizzy, the vision blurring and whirling like some dark nanovirus trip as he lost his hold on his own perceptive centre, as if he was drowning in himself. Again he felt sick, only now he could somehow sense a nausea suppression system kick in, whatever that was.
“The disorientation is normal, focus on one thing, your cock. Better, yes brother, calm. Think of your sex, throbbing, needing fulfilment. Now you will see what you shall become.”
The image zoomed out from my pulsing nobhead toward a group men surrounding me. Some were head to toe in rubber and metal, some just covered in places, leaving the bare skin exposed, all hairless, amazingly muscled, like an anatomy vidbook. There were tubes, from arses, arms, spine, cocks, some leading off into the dark, others connecting person to person. Pierced bodies, faces, cocks, huge cocks, some weirdly misshapen, with what must be implants, ballbags were either in long metal stretchers, or hugely inflated. He thought of his darkest wank fantasies, this was all of them. Then he saw the faces, all blank and with staring eyes, no emotion. That was when he came. If it hadn’t been for the catheter he would have sprayed the walls, instead it just oozed round the tip. One of the freaks stepped forward and licked the cum off. He shuddered, pleasure not revulsion, what had happened to him?
“We sense your agreement, processing will begin”
Wait, what about real life, not his fantasies, but normal people, family, work, the gleaming, teaming city above.
“Processing will begin. You have never been normal, you want this, this is your life now, we claim you. Processing has begun.”
Unit 37 remembered no more for the next four and a half weeks, he was in total conscious shutdown as he was remade in the image of the hive. Crude surgery for some changes, nanoware others. Organ types were made more efficient, permanent feed lines inserted, after all his mouth was to be a primarily sexual organ. After the fast muscle stims had brought his body up to basic standard, nanostims were distributed throughout his body to maintain his muscle strength at optimum. His balls were rapidly expanded, testosterone production increased, and the cells for producing new hormones, and nanoware introduced. The unit’s deep desires were accessed, and specific body mods made. His PA was removed and his cock subincised half way along it’s length, then four bars inserted through the glans. The standard anal renovation was completed, the new sphincter dilatable under direct mental control. His nipples expanded to the size of his thumbs, and pierced with thick metal rods. Despite all these physical mods, it was the brain that was the main target.
First the link wires grew into place, attaching to individual neurones throughout his central nervous system. Then nanotech fused them to the central processor inside his chest, clamped solidly to his spine, his new core. Now he was linked wirelessly, permanently, to the Brotherhood. Override routines began, imposing their own file system on his memories, reducing his previous life to group data. The unit’s skills in tech design would be used by the hive, after all finance had to be obtained somehow, and The Brotherhood was a self supporting entity. Satisfied Brotherhood control was achieved, the unit’s persona was prepared for full integration, once all inferior, limited sense of self identity was subsumed, induction into the group mind could begin. The Brotherhood was pleased, it had rescued this individual from life in the false freedom above, brought it down to the dark pits under the city, into the pleasure it had always desired.
If any outsiders had seen the reactivation they would have been surprised at the silence. The external connections were removed, and the unit sprang upright in one swift movement, zombified eyes impassive. The naked body just showed a thin film of sweat as it walked toward its brothers. The group surrounded him slowly, then grabbed, pulled pinched and twisted, fingers probed arses, grabbed cocks, rubber slid over flesh as mouths tasted sweat from rank pits. Not just touch, but electricity flowed over raw skin, heat, cold, vibration, intense pain, unbelievable pleasure could all be generated by these cyborgs. The unit could feel itself being fucked hard, a mouth clamped on its reshaped cock, and another unit’s prick spraying its piss into unit 37’s gob. All these sensations were shared among the group, as all theirs were shared by unit 37. Fucker/fuckee felt the same flesh based sensations. As they mingled their secretions, mouth to mouth, cock to arse, and every other possible combination nanoware, and chemical signals were passed among biological units, a sharing of information on the molecular level, enhancing the group’s already considerable power. Brains, trad computers, quantum computers, and molecular computers fused into one being. The writhing, groaning, grunting wordless sex went on for hours, exploring the collective bodies inside and out, till finally all units reached climax point. They held themselves together at the tension peak for what seemed an age, which given the speed the group mind was capable of working at, it effectively was. Then, release, explosion. The quivering shook the mass of bodies as they shot in one huge orgasm, cum firing from 37 cocks simultaneously.
They rested as a sweaty, piss and spunk soaked mass, sleeping together on the rubber floor. Feed tubes snaked out from the walls to connect with the dormant bodies. Waste tubes following, linking up with cocks and arses, taking the piss, shit, and broken down nano to the bioconverter, to be recycled for the collective. Day or night meant nothing, as the group’s senses extended far beyond those of normal, vain humanity. The hive mind processes constantly, managing business assets, operating manufacturing machinery, developing new products for internal use and sale to the world outside. The biological components lived in near constant sexual communion when not required for physical, or mentally creative duties. There was true brotherhood amongst them all, a loving more profound than any of the initial experimental headhacker perveboys had realised they would gain when they founded the clan. Deep inside unit 37 was the mental vestige of his previous, limited, life, and this recognised he was at home and at peace.
“So candidate it is now 2243, The Brotherhood has extended not just globally, but to the planetary colonies, asteroid mines, and the deep space probes, millions of us now as one. Unit 37 still exists in physical form, deep within the South Britain complex. The unit body is nearly all machine now, and indeed does not have to exist physically if it did not wish to, since its memories and persona are backed up around the solar system, and on the deep space explorers. Feel, sense, taste, this is a direct brain info-feed from unit 37, see, his satisfaction, and pleasure continue. We know you recognise this as true. We have shown you this as a means of gauging your readiness for the conversion process, you show signs of arousal, good that makes it easier, though since we desire you within us, your consent is already irrelevant. Processing has begun.”