The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Ten years maximum security!” Trish shouted as they entered the Captain’s office about an hour later. “Or five years with re-education. And they didn’t need to hear me as a witness. Can you believe that, Sir?”

“Yes, I can. Because the judge just called me. Miss Conner will be transferred to the maximum security prison tomorrow morning and was granted a last visitor. And she chose you,” the Captain informed Trish who just rolled her eyes and nodded. “But I have also news on your missing case ... or I have new missing cases, to be exact.”

“With a connection to our case? Wouldn’t surprise me. Because there seems to be something strange about that. We just have to figure out, what it is,” the Inspector said.

“Have a look at this surveillance footage and this missing person report,” the Captain said and threw a tablet-PC on the table. Trish looked at the pictures and the report for just some seconds to scan them and to have a closer look at them before her inner eye while the Inspector read the report out loud.

“Lucas ‘Luke’ Radler, age 20, supposed to be picked up by his bike racing team yesterday ... important race, racing bike at home but no sign of him ... last seen in shopping mall on Saturday purchasing a bike racing suit at Athletistok ... uhm ... Sorry, but I can’t see any connection to missing Alexandra Petty, Captain.”

“Yes, I know. But today there was another person reported missing. And that one has a connection to Luke Radler. Stephanie Creeks, age 48. Her neighbour saw her entering a black van together with a stranger on Saturday and she hasn’t returned home since. And our cyclist here also got in a black van ... there, on the last picture!” the Captain said and opened another report on the screen on the wall.

“That’s in fact a connection. But Miss Petty drove her own car when she disappeared and ... Wait a minute!” the Inspector said. He looked at Trish who went through her memory of yesterday’s trip to Coastville.

“The black van in front of Leigh Cobat’s house!” both of them exclaimed in unison.

“OK, thank you very much, officer!” Trish ended the connection and put her mobile phone back into one of the hip pockets of her fake dark latex-jeggings as she waited in the shopping mall’s central rotunda. It housed the usual: rest rooms, restaurants, cafés, ice cream parlours, rest areas et cetera. Four two-storey wings extended from it with numerous shops. Everything was designed to make spending one’s hard earned money as pleasurable as possible. There were no local shops anymore for years, just online shopping or ‘shopping experiences’ like this mall.

Trish leaned against the corner leading to one of those wings and just watched the crowd in the rotunda. She had always liked doing this. Not only to train her skills as a detective but also to get an idea of the people around her. But today, she didn’t just look at them, she blinked once and took a panoramic photo of the rotunda. Then, she closed her eyes, reproduced the image from her memory and scrutinized it swiftly for people who drew her attention—mainly because of their clothing.

And so, before her inner eye, she highlighted amongst the usual men and women in business attire and some people just wearing old jeans and ordinary shirts or pullovers...

... a young couple entering the rotunda, she opening the asymmetrical zipper of her short black latex biker-jacket, taking it off and by that revealing a sleeveless but high-necked turquoise wet-look top combined with a pleated miniskirt made from thin dark-grey neoprene over turquoise wet-look pantyhose and black rubber chelsea boots, he wearing black robust boots and a long royal-blue spandex shirt over black meggings with the inevitable smart phone pockets on the thighs and quilted neoprene segments at knees and calfs

... three teenage girls sitting on the edge of the central fountain wearing sneakers, shiny high-waist workout leggings with contrasting seams and matching workout tops (each the same outfit, merely one being bright-olive, the other bronze and the third purple), giggling and taking selfies

... the waitress of a seafood restaurant wearing anthracite latex capri pants, a (more than necessarily tight) v-necked white/blue-striped top and white/blue canvas shoes, not bothering about the staring clientele as the controller in her neck ordered her to smile and present her tightly clad buxom curves while taking orders

... a hiker with a rucksack looking for an outdoor clothing shop wearing a thick dark-green full-body suit made of tight but rather matt spandex with pockets at the chest and outer thighs and robust black segments at the inner thighs, waist, shoulders and lower arms

... a young mother feeding her baby with fruit puree from a small jar and absolutely not regretting her decision to put on a metallic-blue latex dress (with breast zippers in case her offspring wanted to attend the milk bar for dessert) as the baby sneezed a whole mouthful of puree all over her chest and she just needed one silicone-oiled tissue to remove it and polish her second skin back up

... a man in a double-breasted suit made of dark-brown pinstriped latex with a grey spandex shirt and a red tie walking by while debating with a client via his bluetooth earbud

... a woman around forty whose quite long legs were accentuated by her platinum opaque pantyhose with integrated high heels (there was hardly a shoe visible, one could only see nylon-clad legs with also nylon-clad five-inch heels) she wore with a burgundy mini dress

... another woman around thirty with a grey bobble hat over her long brown hair sitting in a café reading a book while sipping from her cup and wearing a long-legged but sleeveless black vinyl bodysuit and brown half-boots with an oversized lumberjack shirt tied together at her waist

... a male drone wearing a black-and-red spandex catsuit with the mall’s logo on it, hurrying towards the latex-clad mother to mop up the sneezed-out fruit puree the mall’s video surveillance had detected on the floor

... and a middle-aged couple sitting in an ice-cream parlour wearing brand-new traditional denim jeans, white shirts, woollen and leather jackets and polished leather ankle boots.

Thanks to her powerful CPU, Trish’s observations took her only two seconds. But then something happened (and took her only another two seconds) that had befallen her even before her transformation. The scanned situation started a fully loaded train of thoughts dashing through her mind at unconceivable speed:

She had obviously been too busy building up the policebot branch being just at work or at sleep or jogging, but not really amongst other people. She must have missed some major changes in fashion over the last months. Traditional shirts, suits, coats, jackets, jeans etc. were still there, but the pieces usually looked used and worn. New clothes were almost solely shiny and synthetic. The too long ignored climate change and massive misjudgements in the agricultural sector (she had heard of some months ago during her regular morning news scan) caused severe crop failures so that especially the prize of everything made of cotton, wool and leather had at least quadrupled. But synthetics could be produced at any time, at low cost and especially from recyclables. And so people must have discovered spandex, latex, nylon, vinyl and neoprene as significantly low-prized alternatives. And preventing plastic waste from further polluting the oceans by wearing products made from it seemed to give people a good conscience. Trish did not like climate change and especially not the reluctant way politicians had handled the situation until the international crisis of 2025. But she really liked that fashion outcome. Body-hugging sportswear and the combination of shiny pieces with old cotton clothes were now a common look throughout all age classes and walks of life. One could even wear a full-body catsuit, dress or business suit made of shiny material without attracting very much attention. On the contrary, it was now the couple in the ice-cream parlour that actually did attract attention—as intended—by wearing new expensive cotton-made jeans, genuine leather boots and jackets made of leather and wool to display their material prosperity.

“And there are the ones who like to stick to old fashion habits and have managed just in time to hoard some new wool suits and denim jeans,” Trish chuckled to herself silently as she opened her eyes again and saw the Inspector exiting the men’s room in his brown suit and beige coat. She really couldn’t believe why he did not try spandex or latex. He was in good shape and—although a bit older than her—still at the right age. But then, she just smiled at him. She did not want to change him in the slightest way. She loved him just the way he was.

“Everything all right, my dear?” the Inspector asked as he joined her and gave her a kiss. Trish nodded and snuggled up to him for just a moment.

“Yes, of course. OK ... uhm, let’s meet that shop attendant who had last seen Luke Radler,” she said and they continued their way through the shopping mall. “I’ve spoken with Coastville PD. They went to Leigh’s house, her car in front of it but nobody there. They called her but only reached her voice mail. Thinking of that black van, her strange behaviour now makes sense. Oh Frank, we should have stayed with her or at least searched the house!”

“But we had no cause yesterday. And we’ll find her when we find one of the others. So our best shot is to find Luke Radler or Stephanie Creeks as soon as possible,” the Inspector stated as both of them entered the sporting goods store and went straight to the cycling section. The Inspector unlocked the Captain’s tablet-PC and opened one of the surveillance pictures with Luke on it. Both of them looked for Linda, the amicable young shop assistant wearing dark-green running tights and a purple shirt. They finally found her standing behind a round garment rack folding up some pieces.

“Hello Sir and Madam! Welcome to Athletistok. My name is Linda. How can I be of service to you?” she asked them as they entered her field of vision.

“Hi. I’m Sergeant O’Cully and this is my ... partner, Inspector... uhm,” Trish again lapsed into stuttering as Linda came forward from behind the rack and the officers could see what she was wearing. She didn’t wear her tights and shirt anymore, she now wore a purple wet-look spandex suit that covered her whole body except for her head. The suit glistened in the shop’s bright illumination and was extremely tight. One could even see a cameltoe in her crotch and how her firm breasts’ nipples tried to push through the shiny fabric. ATHLETISTOK was printed in big silver letters across the whole suit, from her right leg over her waist and chest. The suit was the perfect match for Linda’s small but tight athletic body.

“We would like to ask some questions about a young man who bought a cycling suit here on Saturday, around noon. He left the suit right on,” Trish explained and showed Linda her badge while the Inspector presented the tablet-PC.

“I’m sorry, detectives. There was nothing extraordinary about that purchase,” Linda explained calmly, turned around and got another one of those cycling suits from a rack. “This new brand will revolutionize sports equipment with their digital know-how, providing a far more efficient training experience. The customer was—rightly—so convinced that he left the suit on. Have a look for yourself. Maybe you are also interested in one of these products. And if I can be of any service to you, just call me. My name is Linda.”

“Oh wait, wait, Ma’am,” the Inspector said as Linda wanted to resume her work and Trish took a closer look at the cycling suit. “Can you tell us anything else about him? Did he behave in a strange way? Did he say anything awkward? Everything might help us. Please, Ma’am.”

“Hello Sir! Welcome to Athletistok. My name is Linda. How can I be of service to you? Linda said again very calmly and cocked her head.

“Excuse me, Ma’am ... uhm ... that customer has been reported missing and we ...”

“I’m sorry, Sir. There was nothing extraordinary about that purchase,” Linda repeated.

“Knock it off, Frank! She’s a drone,” Trish said as she looked at Linda’s neck and spotted a small controller with blinking LEDs.

“Hello Madam! Welcome to Athletistok. My name is Linda. How can I be of service to you?” Linda turned around and smiled at Trish.

“Excuse me! Could you please stop it for a second,” the store manager joined them and pushed a button on the controller in Linda’s neck. Linda instantly closed her eyes and her body lost all of its tension. “The system has only been installed this morning. We are still in a kind of test mode. She’s rebooting now and will attend to you in just a moment.”

“This morning? So on Saturday she hasn’t been a drone yet?” the Inspector said and showed the manager his badge.

“Oh, I see. Uhm, correct. We received a special offer on a WEP subscription yesterday. And Linda has been persuaded to be the first one to go online.”

“I see. Well, can at least you tell us anything about these suits and who bought them?” the Inspector asked.

“No, I’m sorry. Oh wait ... There was a special introductory discount on these suits. So Saturday evening I asked Linda about the customers’ feedback. And she told me that there was huge interest in these new suits—at first. Well, almost every customer who touched a suit tried it on ... but most of them finally didn’t buy it. Quite strange, because normally our quality convinces our customers. But that’s all I can say. Sorry. Only Linda might know more,” the manager said and looked at the shop assistant whose body slowly came back to life.

“But it seems as if she can’t answer our questions while being a drone. Could you deactivate her so that we can talk to the original Linda?” Trish urged the manager.

“Oh, I’m sorry. The guy who installed the system said that Linda can only be rebooted and not deactivated until Thursday morning. She signed a new type of contract. She’s on constant drone duty for 72 hours and then has 96 hours off. Cassandra, her colleague will start her shift as a drone tomorrow morning. So now you can shop at this Athletistok store 24/7! We’re all so excited about that,” the manager explained with a grin and left.

“Hello Sir and Madam! Welcome to Athletistok. My name is Linda. How can I be of service to you?” Linda said smilingly as she opened her eyes again. Trish still stared at the controller in Linda’s neck and concentrated. But after some moments, she sighed in disappointment.

“Thanks, Linda! I’ll just try this on,” Trish pulled the Inspector into a changing cubicle. “I can’t believe this, Frank! Drones! Again! I tried to access her controller’s firmware but somehow I can’t.”

“That is because of the on-duty limits Nora had to install, my dear. I told you about that. You can’t gather evidence by hacking other people.”

“Oh yes, right! To be honest, it’s even better that way ... I don’t really want to get too much in touch with that technology again. But let’s have a look at this suit, its fabric, its lining. I have a hunch about that...”

Trish took off her jacket and shoes. She closed her eyes for a second and let her ‘clothing’ vanish. Hastily, the Inspector drew the curtain. The hip pockets and the waistband of Trish’s fake shiny jeggings also disappeared so that her mobile phone and the holster with her gun fell on the floor.

“Oops! Sorry...” Trish chuckled and gave the Inspector, who couldn’t take his eyes off her naked body, a quick wake-up kiss. She then grabbed the cycling suit.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean as you already have a hunch ... couldn’t that suit contain the WEP technology, too?” the Inspector frowned.

“It surely contains electronics. But do you see this socket here in the back pocket? Even if it’s WEP, it needs a transmitter to work. So no worries,” Trish just smiled at him, put both her feet in the suit and quickly pulled it up. She shivered instantly and took a deep breath in.

“Uhmmmm... oh yes! I knew it!” Trish exhaled with pleasure and put one hand on her shiny crotch. After some seconds she pulled the suit further up, put her arms in and closed the zipper so that the suit covered her whole body tightly. “It’s ... hmmm ... Oh, I’ll never forget that feeling. Uhm ... it’s somehow the same material that drone suit was made of. You know, the one I had to wear in that call centre?”

“Yes, the one you refused to take off for two days,” the Inspector chuckled but then his face became serious again. “But I see what you mean. A guy comes in here, buys one of these suits that can secretly have an effect on the wearer’s mind. He then leaves without taking the suit off, waits several minutes in front of the mall, even ignores a quite hot woman and is then picked up by a black van. And when we arrive here to ask the shop assistant who sold that suit, she has already been turned into a drone.”

“Absolutely! Like Leigh after having reported Alex missing,” Trish said and then her body jerked as the suit activated and the display in her wrist asked her to connect with a social media profile. She hastily opened the suit and took it off, “No, no, that’s enough! ... Not again!”

“Hello Sir and Madam! Welcome to Athletistok. My name is Linda. How can I be of service to you?” Linda asked as re-dressed Trish and the Inspector stepped out of the cubicle.

“Oh, uhm ... I really like this suit. You were absolutely right, Linda. So I’ll take it,” Trish answered and accompanied Linda to the checkout to get a hold of that suit without causing too much a stir than necessary.

“All right. Good work, Trish. Let’s have a look at the third missing person’s place and tomorrow we’ll pay that suit’s source a visit,” the Inspector said as they went back to their car.

“Saturday at noon, a black van stopped in front of her house, delivered something big. And two hours later, the same or at least a similar van stopped again in front of her house, a man went in and a couple of minutes later she left the house together with him, got in the van and hasn’t returned since,” Steph’s neighbour reported and closed the little book in her hands.

Trish and the Inspector sat on the couch in the old woman’s living-room and sipped coffee from their cups. The Inspector then showed her the surveillance footage of the black van in front of the mall and the woman nodded hastily.

“Thank you, Mrs. Snoopsky. Was there something else awkward about her when she left the house?” the Inspector asked. The woman stared at him for quite a while and if the living-room clock wouldn’t have been ticking so loud, one could have heard a pin drop.

“Well, let me think ... about her? Oh, I should have written it down. Sorry, young man,” the old lady who lived opposite to Steph’s house frowned but then smiled, “oh, there was in fact one thing. She was dressed rather strange. She wore ... how should I call it? Well, it was black ... a black suit ... well, not a trouser suit. It was black. And it was tight. All over.”

“A catsuit? Unitard? Jumpsuit? Overall? Black, shiny skin-tight material?” Trish dug deeper tapping her right foot impatiently on the floor.

“Yes, like that. Like those tight and shiny things you young people wear nowadays. Well, I hope that this is useful to you. This is a good neighbourhood and we’re looking out for each other, especially after they had to cut down police patrols some years ago,” the woman added and sat back in her armchair. Trish stopped tapping, smiled perkily at the Inspector and raised her eyebrows.

“Thank you, Ma’am. This will really help us to tie up those lose ends. We will just go over there and have a look at Miss Creeks’ place. So, thanks again for the coffee,” the Inspector said goodbye. The door had not really closed yet as the woman pulled up the curtains at the front window and watched them closely.

On the other side of the street, Trish held the tablet-PC next to the door’s fingerprint lock. She opened the warrant file, scanned the QR code and the door unlocked. Then, she put the tablet-PC aside, drew her gun, slowly stepped into the hall and searched the house together with the Inspector.

“Hmmm, apart from that brand new TV set next to the old one nothing special here ... empty tea cup, bathrobe. Doesn’t look like a fight. And the neighbour mentioned neither a control pad attached to Steph’s suit, like the one attached to the cycling suit, nor a controlled put into her neck. Maybe they used one of these Bluetooth controllers on her, like on Laura and Ray...” the Inspector mumbled.

“Maybe, yes. But Miss Cobat also wore just a black spandex swimsuit yesterday. Maybe just a coincidence, but think of the cycling suit I put on in that shop. Maybe it’s just the suits that have an effect on their wearers. But how are they operated?”

“Anyway, until now the only links are in fact black spandex suits ... and black vans. But what about that TV? Smart TV, connected to the internet, brand new socket,” the Inspector summed up but was then interrupted.

“Hey! What are you doing here? This is private property!” Steph exclaimed as she entered her living-room. She now wore night-blue PVC leggings with brown suede overknee boots, a white blouse and a short brown fitted jacket. She looked at the officers standing in front of her with her arms akimbo.

Ten minutes later, Steph said goodbye to Trish and the Inspector. She did not want to say anything about her recent whereabouts as she was now obviously at home being safe and sound. Trish and the Inspector couldn’t really deny that but had insisted on checking that she did not wear any spandex clothing, at least nothing with a silver lining. Trish would have loved to scan Steph’s body but that ability had been disabled as well and Steph’s consent to scan her thoroughly was out of the question.

Steph closed the front door and looked through the spy hole to witness them actually leaving. She then went back into the living-room. She undressed completely, switched the TV set on and stood in front of it. The TV asked her to log in and she did. After some seconds, a QR code appeared on the screen. Steph looked at it, blinked twice and stood at attention.

“SUE-Bot-1-online-and-fully-ope-rational. Down-loading-mission-data. Down-loading... down-loading... down-loading...” Steph mantraed in a mechanical voice and remained in front of the TV, staring at the screen that now displayed binary code.

“Mission-data-received. Executing,” Steph stated as the TV switched off automatically. She blinked twice and smiled viciously.

48 hours earlier...

Steph sat in the black van. No one uttered a single word. Steph just looked at the woman sitting in front of her and smiled as she spotted her pink sneakers.

About an hour later, the van stopped inside a building in an industrial estate in the middle of nowhere. The sliding door was opened by a woman wearing a black catsuit and ordered the passengers to get out in the order of their pick-up.

So Alex stood up first and left the van. The woman took the plastic bag with Alex’ belongings and examined its content while Alex scrutinized her immaculate spandex-clad body. She wore robust black military boots. Her body and her head were covered completely—except for just her face—by a shiny and absolutely tight-fitting catsuit made from rather thick black, almost neoprene-like spandex with robust zippers in the back and the crotch. Alex’s eyes marvelled at the woman’s flat belly and her firm breasts. She wore a thin metal collar that that was locked to the zipper in her neck. The words ‘property of CACHE Ltd. & Co. AG’ and the number ‘D23’ had been stamped into the metal collar’s front.

Alex then looked at the woman’s face, the only part of her body that wasn’t covered. It was young, very beautiful and immaculate as well, but cold and unemotional. Then, the woman stopped searching, and took a look at Luke’s and Steph’s bags. Afterwards, she looked absolutely straight-faced at Alex, Luke and Steph and just said, “Follow me!”

All three of them nodded and obeyed. As the woman walked in front of them, Alex spotted a tiny metal box with blinking LEDs and a small antenna in the woman’s neck protruding out of the thick fabric. Alex didn’t understand anything at all. She just followed the woman into another room watching her spandex-clad ass cheeks moving up and down.

Inside, the woman opened a hidden door that led to a large elevator. All of them got in and the elevator moved downwards. For a second, Alex imagined touching the woman’s slinky body. And Steph would have really loved to get a hold of Luke’s still erect member. But before these desires had a chance to settle in their otherwise empty minds, they reminded themselves that they were here just to follow instructions.

Some seconds later, they entered a large subterranean room whose floor and walls were completely tiled in white. The room was about 30 metres wide and 15 metres deep. In the opposite wall there were three sliding doors with—now inactive—displays above them. In front of each side wall there were two glass booths on pedestals. The woman ordered Alex to walk to the first booth on the left wall where another woman, also clad in tight black spandex and with the number ‘D22’ on her collar, was already waiting for them. Luke was ordered to walk to a booth on the right wall where D21 and D20 were waiting for him. Steph was told to remain where they had entered the room.

“Take off your shoes and put them into that chute!” D22 ordered as unemotionally as D23. Alex obeyed without hesitation not remembering that those shoes were in fact her favourite ones. In the meantime, D23 had emptied Alex’s ID and driving licence out of her purse and now connected her phone to a computer. Then, she threw the rest of Alex’s belongings into the chute.

D22 ordered Alex to stand on designated spots in the glass booth. While D23 scanned Alex’s ID and her phone’s contents, D22 closed the booth’s doors and activated it. A sprinkler came to life and gave Alex a shower. But it wasn’t water. Because to her surprise, the black colour of her catsuit was washed out of the fabric leaving Alex clad in skin-tight silver spandex. Then, a scanner was activated and circled around her body x-raying it and taking its measurements with laser beams. But Alex did not feel scared. She still looked at the women and admired their absolutely efficient work routine. She also caught a glimpse of Luke in the opposite booth and saw that he was also hosed down and scanned in silver spandex.

After some moments, Alex had to step out of the booth and her fingerprints as well as a small blood sample were taken und analysed by the computer together with the data provided by her social media accounts, the body scanner and her phone.

Suddenly, there was a loud beep and the sign ‘storage’ above one of the sliding doors was illuminated. Alex looked at the sign and frowned. But D23 demanded Alex’s attention, showed her several documents on a screen and ordered her to sign them with an electronic pen. Alex obeyed without hesitation although she noticed headlines like ‘full power of attorney’ or ‘notice of termination’.

Then, D23 presented Alex’s phone and a text on a screen. As D23 started a recording, Alex just read what had been written on the paper, “Hi Leigh, it’s me, Alex. I know, you’re waiting for me, but I had so much stress at work. I just need to spend this weekend at a lonely place. So I have to take a rain check on Coastville this time. I’m sorry. Love you, bye!”

As the woman stopped the recording and put everything away, Alex just smiled at her not wondering at all why she had to read that text. But she didn’t have the time to wonder, either. Because now, everything went on rather quickly. D22 grabbed Alex by her right arm, pulled her towards the ‘storage’ door that slid open automatically and pushed her into a small dark room. Alex started to feel really scared for the first time since she had got here as she could not see what was about to happen.

But suddenly there was a hissing sound and the walls in front of her and behind her moved towards her. Alex screamed. But two seconds later, her body was caught within solid moulds forcing her to stand upright with just her head not being covered. The moulds then heated up and dried Alex’s catsuit. Then, she felt how a kind of helmet was put on her head, heard a whirring sound and first felt just a tickle on her head. But as the helmet was pulled away, she cold air touched her head’s skin. Apparently, her head had been shaved. Now she screamed for help as loud as she could inside her still dark prison but nothing could be heard outside.

However, there was still no time to think about what was going on as the machine continued to process Alex relentlessly. Her head was hosed down and a fully closed—presumably silver—spandex hood was put over her head. She felt the tightness all over it and had to make an effort to breathe through the dense material. Finally, a metal collar was put around her neck and locked with the hood and the suit. What Alex couldn’t see was the inscription on the collar that said ‘blank f-01-000-001 / property of CACHE Ltd. & Co. AG’. The same number and a barcode were also printed on her spandex-clad forehead.

The moulds were then retracted so that she fell on her knees, coughed and took long arduous gasps through the fabric. She still couldn’t see a thing. Total darkness surrounded her as the chamber was still not lit at all and the hood did not provide any eye openings. She just palpated her face, her head, her neck and reckoned that her whole body was now clad in silver spandex. Then, a trapdoor opened. Alex fell into a chute and slid two storeys deeper.

At the end of the chute, she landed between two layers of latex held by a frame. The frame closed and the air between the sheets was sucked out. Alex panicked as she now couldn’t breathe at all. But in that moment, a hose was pierced through the latex and spandex, through her mouth and into her trachea. Other hoses were applied the same way into her gullet, anus and urethra. Alex tried to struggle against this, but it was futile. The Latex sealed itself around the tubes automatically so that no air could get out and the latex still held her tightly.

Then, a gripper lifted the frame with shrink-wrapped Alex up and put her on a conveyor belt to be brought into storage for sedation and conditioning. Alex was desperate and also absolutely exhausted. She just tried to control her breathing and finally fell asleep not realizing that Luke had been processed the same way and was now put as ‘blank m-01-000-001’ right next to her.

Still standing in front of the elevator and waiting, Steph did not notice anything of what had been going on behind those sliding doors. Her new TV set had promised her some kind of rejuvenation and maybe this was an unorthodox yet very efficient beauty clinic. Finally, D23 and D22 took the elevator upstairs as D21 ordered Steph to come to her booth and also stand on designated spots.

As Steph left the booth, now also clad in silver spandex, she had to sign documents, blood sample and fingerprints were taken. Steph looked at the signs above the sliding doors and waited for that beep. It finally came and the sign ‘bot’ was illuminated. Steph frowned. She couldn’t imagine what that meant. But unlike Alex and Luke, she was not seized and put there. Instead, D20 and D21 still looked at the screen. D20 then took a telephone receiver and looked towards a mirrored window in one of the walls.

“Sir, the scanner detected that this specimen has been used for oral sex by driver 3 during pick-up. What are your orders, Sir?”

Inside a control room behind that mirrored window, a man got up from his desk and took a look into the room. He looked at Steph and sighed, “So she’s the specimen for the special treatment, designated Special-Undercover-Execution-Bot?”

“Affirmative, Sir! SUE-Bot transformation ready to commence,” D20 answered.

“And haven’t I told those drivers to behave or their privileges will be taken away from them?!”

“Affirmative, Sir! Driver 3 was instructed on October 18th and again on November 4th,” D20 repeated.

“OK, put her into the conversion chamber. And then find driver 3, bring him here,” the man pressed the ‘drone’ button on his desk so that the sign above the third door was illuminated, “and make him a drone! Disobedience has to be punished!”

The man wiped sweat from his bald head and turned around.

It was Dr. Grincher/S1.