Author’s Notes:
I’ve been meaning to get this story out for quite some time (sorry everyone), but there have been way too many distractions (and lack of motivation, and laziness). It’s my first foray into the ‘hive’ genre of stories, so I hope to do it justice!
Nine to Hive
Prologue:
She sat calmly in the alcove, gently, her mind tuned in to the low background hum. It was lyrical and soft, the melody deceptively simple. Her mind was wrapped in a blanket of warm cotton, butterflies nibbling gently at the edges. She waited there stolidly, her vision obscured by a visor that sat inches from her eyes. On her body clung a thick, black bodysuit, dark as the night, but shined to a mirror finish that emphasized her ample assets. Her legs were angled perpendicular to her torso, her knees and legs forming a perfect ninety degree angle that ended in thick, highly polished black platform boots. Deep in her vagina was buried a thick, knobby dildo, the rubbery mass pulsing very slightly with the beat of the hive. Seemingly welded to her head was a black, shiny ball that absorbed light, hiding all features of the drone.
The world appeared desaturated through her helmet, except for colored lines that swam through the air. The lines danced joyously, entwining and embracing. They didn’t exist, really, except as a figment of her imagination, if she still had one. She wasn’t sure, as she hadn’t needed one for some time now. Some vestigial portion of her brain that still functioned was doing its best to interpret its surroundings.
Not that the drone cared, of course, for it had long ago discarded any pretense of thinking for itself. She had given everything to the hive, pushing out everything that had made her unique into the gestalt, in return letting it fill her to the brim with its thick, warm obedience. She had been cored, invaded, and pacified, remade to serve the hive’s purposes. And now, she waited patiently to be activated, made to do whatever would serve the hive best. There was no need to worry, or feel concern. There was only silence, and the colors of obedience.
Her impassivity dragged on interminably. At regular, controlled intervals, she exhaled softly and her eyes blinked, her pussy rhythmically clenching at the dildo as she stared into infinity. The colors pranced in a step formation and the chorus stirred, the tone of the hive taking on a slightly different timbre. Unexpectedly, the colors drained from her sight and the hum dissipated, the dildo becoming a still block of rubber.
She was not concerned, was incapable of being concerned at this turn of events. She continued to sit, even though the hive had temporarily withdrawn from her body. She had truly given everything she had, her body remolded into an empty husk to be filled and commanded by others. This state of affairs continued on for some time, but like a tsunami breaching the shore, the hive’s presence crashed back into her, filling her completely. Her body involuntarily gasped, a simple reflex that had no conscious control behind it. Her mind was being repurposed, restructured for the hive.
The soldier drone stood up smoothly, the pleasure instrument slipping smoothly from her vulva. She reached down and zipped her body suit shut, the rubbery material now forming an impenetrable second skin over her body. She cinched her belt tightly around her waist, various tools secured tightly to its shiny rubber surface. The fact that the hive was upset did not bother the drone. She had been given a task, and she would accomplish it automatically without thought. Anything else was irrelevant.
She maneuvered expertly on her platform boots, her body steering itself gently to the pulse of the hive. Her feet lifted mechanically, moving forward smoothly in a measured pace. Harsh white light shone from fluorescent fixtures mounted in the ceiling, gleaming over her alien-looking rubber form. She marched forward, hands at her sides, head and neck fixed straight forward in the rubber helmet and collar, taking no notice of the glistening walls around her. It appeared as though they had been covered and molded over with some type of shiny goo and rubbed to a glossy finish. Perhaps something had excreted the substance over every possible surface, which was then left to dry into a slightly pinkish looking polycarbonate. The final effect was that of an unearthly creature navigating an alien hive.
The soldier marched over the solid surface, the music of the hive steering her through the odd place. As she continued to move forward, the amount of the substance coating the walls slowly appeared to subside, its thickness gradually trailing off. Her pace never varied, her steady motion unhurried, but determined.
The sound of her steps was echoed, the coated walls absorbing little of the sound energy. The strident movement soon seemed magnified, growing ever louder. As she rounded a corner, the hallway opened into a four way intersection, more hallways leading off to other areas of the complex. She stopped abruptly, standing dead still at the center of the intersection, her rubbery arms angled slightly at her sides.
Her body obeyed an unseen authority, waiting expectantly for something to happen. Instead of silence, rhythmic marching now started to echo throughout the intersection. Soon, from either end of the hallways, sister drones dressed in an identical fashion to her marched towards her position methodically. They both reached her position at the exact same time, each one performing a perfectly executed turn to match the direction the first drone was pointed in, with the grace of synchronized swimmers. All three were lined up now, identical unidentifiable slaves, waiting for the hive to make them do its bidding.
Three pairs of shiny black boots lifted in unison, their masked heads now leaning forward into the synchronous motion. They moved in lockstep, a picture of perfect obedience, each controlled with precision by the hive. Goose stepping with effortless grace, a perfect line in motion, they continued their march down the hall, each leg lifting easily to a forty five degree angle before dropping back to the floor.
Now that they were together, they moved forward quickly, driven by an unseen urgency. Despite their rapid forward motion, their breasts didn’t bounce, as they were tightly held up and outwards by their clinging suits. The coating on the walls continued to get thinner, the dried gelatinous ooze giving way to clear, clean white walls. Finally, they reached the end of the hallway, a large doorway with a striped red outline blocking the exit. Without pause, they marched for the door, their feet now muffled by the uncoated walls. When they came within a few paces of the door, both halves parted simultaneously, sliding smoothly and silently into either side of the wall.
As the drones emerged into a new corridor, their environs changed drastically. Instead of the slick, coated walls, a standard office space greeted them, offices lining the walls. The first drone stopped two paces outside the doorway, the second four paces, and the third six paces. Then, they executed a sharp right face. The drone that lagged behind began to march forward again, picking up the second drone when they were again parallel to each other. In the same manner also the third drone came back into step with the first two. There was no conscious thought necessary to execute this formation – the hive controlled them absolutely, directing their bodies to do precisely what was necessary to complete the maneuver properly.
The door slid shut behind them, a green light above the door turning a solid red. They continued to move forward, the corridor opening up into a large office space, white walls being replaced with the dull gray ones of a cubical farm. Phones rang in the distance and the chatter from faint conversations could now vaguely be heard over the sound of their steps.
From time to time an office worker would stand up and look at the scene they were making—three identically dressed faceless automatons dressed in shiny black rubber, marching straight through the middle of the office. No comments were made on their presence, and nobody moved to stop them. A few of the observers looked nervous, sitting back down in what appeared to be an attempt to hide from the soldiers. Some of the others felt strangely excited, lust lighting their faces instead of fear.
The soldiers ignored all of the observers, continuing their progress to the other side of the room. They entered another corridor, this one looking nicer than the one they had exited from earlier. The pale, white walls had been replaced with warm, brown wooden paneling. Steel office doors gave way to solid oak masterpieces with golden handles. After the last exquisite doorway, thin wall length windows meant more for show than for privacy ran to the end of the hall, a solitary door at the end providing the only entrance and exit.
Although still noticeable, the march of the drones on the thickly carpeted hallway wasn’t nearly as loud as in the hallways with the plastic-looking coating. This meant that as they approached, the conversation from the conference room was clearly audible.
“I said no, and I meant no, Mason!” The feminine voice was loud but carefully controlled.
There was some inaudible conversation, then harsh laughter and a loud male voice. “You’re too naive! I’ve been planning this acquisition for months! Have you even been paying attention to who owns your stock?” More gloating laughter followed.
Ignoring this diatribe, the soldier slaves continued to march to the end of the hall. The businessman, his back to the windows, was so occupied with his rant that he took no notice of the muffled footsteps or motion out in the corridor. When the drones reached the conference room doorway, all three turned and stacked up in a row, then stood there silently as ghosts. Behind the closed door, loud voices continued to penetrate the inadequate sound proofing.
Again, controlled, the female voice replied. “Unlike you, I am not an unprincipled slob.” Her voice became louder, overriding protest sounds being made by the other party. “I know what is required to execute a hostile takeover, and you simply don’t have what it takes. You have taken much longer than should have been necessary, and my patience is wearing thin. I have been expecting this meeting for more than three months, and therefore I have had more than enough time to prepare!” Her hands clapped three times, rhythmically. “Enter!”
The lead drone opened the door, and stepped through in time with the other drones. The last one mechanically shut the door, and all three turned to present themselves to the conference table, blocking the only exit. Sitting half way down the left side of the conference table was a rotund, sweaty man. His face was red from shouting, his expression indignant at the interruption, angry at being cut short during his expected moment of glory. His thick fist waved in the air, his mouth half open, ready to continue the argument.
Next to the garrulous fat man sat a prim and proper assistant. She was industriously making notes in her note pad, taking minutes of the meeting for future reference. Her fiery red hair was arrayed around her head in a simple bob cut, the rest of her body dressed in suitable business attire. She was the perfect picture of an executive assistant.
On the other side of the conference table sat a severe looking business woman. She had clearly put herself in a position of power, her elevated conference chair giving her the height advantage over her two visitors. She was dressed in matching jacket and blouse, her hair pulled up into a French twist. She smiled blandly at the man’s indignation, refusing to become agitated at his antics. An almost invisible faint purple sheen almost seemed to flow through her eyes.
“There’s nothing you can do now!” shouted the fat man. “I’m clearly in position to make a leveraged buyout at this point, and there’s nothing you can do to convince me differently!” He jumped slightly, sweating prodigiously, finally having taken note of the three drones that were now arrayed to his right. “What’s all this about? You can’t touch me, you hear me? I own all of the police in this town, and I’ll have you arrested!”
The drones made no threatening moves, arms vertical. Their motives were unreadable, black helmets hiding all expression, not that they had any to show. They took pleasure in being completely obedient. The business woman smiled again, in a precise manner. “Don’t worry, Mason,” she said in a placating manner, “there’s nothing I have to do to you directly. In fact, I’m sure you’ll change your mind shortly without any need for me to lift a finger. If you have been paying attention, I said that I’ve been working on this particular problem for several months.” She tilted her head slightly, looking at the man’s assistant. “Resurface code aqua, enslavement protocol Beta.”
The assistant became rigid, dropping the pen she had been using to take notes. Her eyes filled with a purple hue and the corners of her mouth turned up into a grin. “Thank you, mistress,” her mouth oozed gracefully. “I hear and obey.” She turned towards her boss and embraced him roughly, knocking her chair backwards to the floor. Before he was able to react, her hands were clamped solidly around his barrel chest, and her lips were pressed tightly to his. Stunned, he was momentarily unable to react.
The businesswoman made a subtle hand motion, the drones behind her speeding into action, splitting up into two groups and marching around the table quickly. Before Mason was able to disentangle himself from his amorous assistant, two of the slaves had flanked him and grabbed both his arms in an unbreakable grip. He spluttered, pushing forward in an attempt to dislodge his assailants. He attempted to leverage his bulk to his advantage, moving like a roaring bull. Instead of sliding off his body as expected, the drone’s uniforms stuck to him like superglue. All three clung to him like leeches, dragging him down and preventing him from making an escape.
Unnoticed by the struggling businessman, the third soldier drone had used the distraction to position herself behind him. In one motion, she reached down to her belt, retrieved a syringe, and jabbed it into his neck, depressing the plunger firmly for a full dosage. She then dropped the needle and wrapped her thick arms around his back like an eel.
Mason continued to struggle like an enraged badger, but he was clearly outmatched. He shoved himself sideways, smashing one of the drones into one of the office’s windows. The impact made the pane vibrate like a gong, but it didn’t crack, and the impassive slave still managed to hold on. He was tiring fast—he wasn’t in the best of shape and the drug was taking effect quickly. In the end, he was unable to dislodge enough of the lithe soldier drones to make a difference. His arms went slack, and his eyes became unfocused. The soldiers took advantage of his situation, forcing him back into the chair he had made an aborted attempt to escape from earlier, their uniforms peeling off of him like Velcro. “How?” he asked, softly, his eyes shining with frustration.
The business woman’s eyes narrowed in satisfaction. “Is it so surprising? I gave you several hints earlier. I knew you would attempt this strategy at least four months ago. It only took a week to infiltrate your organization and convert your assistant. Margo, here, has been a willing slave of the hive for three and a half months now, and she’s been working on you the entire time. She’s not a mindless husk like the soldiers here, but actively uses her talents for the good of the hive.”
Mason slumped in the chair, stunned at the utter betrayal he faced, but still confused. “If you managed to convert her so quickly, why take so long with me?” he slurred, dumbfounded.
The business women frowned slightly. “A simple question with a simple answer. Males cannot hear the hive with any regularity, and therefore are not subject to its allure. Over time we have discovered how to ‘adjust’ males in society to further our goals, but it is too time consuming. It’s much easier to recruit females, and, in fact, I personally prefer it.” She gestured towards the soldier drones. “As you can see, they love the hive so much that they have sacrificed everything for it.”
Margo turned towards her queen and smiled beatifically, her eyes shining with adoration. “The hive sings to me. Thank you for subverting me, my queen.” She then looked inquisitively at the hive queen.
“Yes, you may,” said the queen, satisfied with the assistant’s efforts. Her eyes glowed with the purple power of the hive.
Margo turned back to her victim. “Don’t worry,” she said with fanaticism, “you’ll enjoy being owned by the hive.” The soldier drones stood indifferently as she pulled her blouse and panties off, revealing her aroused pussy. She unzipped Mason’s pants, coyly slipping a svelte hand inside to draw out his stiffening penis. An aphrodisiac mixed into the drug made sure he would be ready for her whether he was willing or not.
She massaged the penis gently with one hand until she deemed it ready for action. Straddling him on the chair, she slipped his hardness slowly but firmly into her willing center. As she began to slowly move downwards, she clasped his sweaty head between her hands. Her eyes started to swirl, purple waves drifting through her irises. She gripped him tightly as her pleasure and the hive’s influence began to rise. She moved faster, rising and falling, the wisps of purple becoming a veritable torrent, her eyes glowing unnaturally from within. He grunted softly, unable to make any reciprocal motion. She was utterly in control.
As she neared climax, she leaned forward with the motion, clamping her mouth directly to Mason’s, as though she was providing mouth to mouth. She breathed into him, expelling a cloud of purple into his lungs and blood stream. A purple haze exploded from her eyes, streaming to Mason. He couldn’t look away, his eyes seeing wonders no untouched person could comprehend.
The majesty of the hive flowed into him, rushed into every nook and cranny as it had so many times in the past. How had he ever forgotten its presence? His mind flashed back through all the ‘board’ meetings, the after work trysts, the ‘late hours’ he had worked so that he could meet with his assistant, until he would do anything just to touch the hive for an instant. He groaned loudly, simultaneously overjoyed and dismayed, only now realizing how far he had fallen.
Margo sat down sharply, thrusting the business man’s cock deeply into her core, a nova exploding in her mind. She leaned back and moaned her pleasure, pleased that she had been able to serve the hive so successfully.