The ongoing whine of the television was almost comforting. Kasey usually fell asleep with a video playing on it. She rolled out of bed with a loud, heaving sigh when the voice started reminding her to share and subscribe.
She stared at the black apron and hat, both lazily thrown into a pile. She’d need to return those to her former workplace if she didn’t want to get dinged. Just because she no longer worked there didn’t shield her from retribution. She angrily buzzed over the possible price a fast food restaurant would charge her for an itchy uniform. In the depths of her early-morning fulmination, she even imagined police showing up at her house with handcuffs ready for the terrible act of stealing an apron and hat.
The screen shifted to another video, still on auto-play. She shut her eyes for a few moments and inhaled. She waited five seconds, then exhaled. Getting to her feet felt harder and harder. Telling herself that she needed to get up and get going was work all on its own.
After a bowl of cereal and an omelette - which she really did enjoy - the fridge was completely empty of anything perishable. The Keen’s and soy sauce probably didn’t need to be used within the next decade, at the very least. Kasey let the piling dishes continue to pile, and stared longingly back at her bed. She was about to head out of the house when she realized she’d forgotten her phone and keys. Kasey grabbed them both from the table before realizing she hadn’t gotten dressed.
It had been a few days since she’d worn anything but the absolute comfiest of clothes. That was fine by her. It’s not like anyone would judge her for it. Kasey had studied the humanities enough to become very jaded, but it was slightly freeing. Everyone that saw her would be far too busy with their own myriad problems to question why she was at the Bursar’s Office in sweatpants and a shirt.
She sat very quietly, too tired to even pull out her phone like the rest of the students (and potential students) in line. Kasey squinted and furrowed her brow and waited. Her mind drifted. She wondered what it would be like to have glasses. She wondered if having to drop a class in person was actually some elaborate scheme to inconvenience and shame students into staying in school. Probably not - it was, again, just idle meditation to pass the time. But it felt that way.
When her number was called, Kasey ran a finger through her short blonde hair. She knew it didn’t matter, but she felt very self-conscious as she stood up. Staying inside so much had given her a far paler skintone than everyone else who’d spent their summer out and about. When she turned in her paperwork and verified the refund, she was done - done, done, done with being out in public. She’d scurry home as fast as possible, and maybe hit that oh-so-tempting bed for another hour or two.
“I could never work for MirageCorp,” said someone. She turned the corner.
“Oh, contraire! That means, ‘the opposite!’ I think you meet all the requirements. You’re between the ages of 19 and 50, a loner, with relatively few ties!”
Kasey raised an eyebrow. Was someone performing a stage play? She turned the corner to see two women acting it out. One of them was wearing casual clothing, but was clearly too old to be a college student (and too happy to be an undergrad) and wore clothes about one size too small and six years out of style. The other held a clipboard and wore sunglasses.
“Wow, that sounds great! What sort of benefits does MirageCorp have?”
The other woman paused for a moment, pulled out her phone, but it back, and continued.
“Great question! That depends on where you work. For example, joining as a test subject will give you $100 cash right away! Applying for a longer contract means health, medical, and other things will all be taken care of.”
“Taken care of?” asked the first woman. “That sounds vague!”
“But it’s not! Don’t think about it too hard. Just sign up right here for information!”
Kasey stepped closer. The two women stopped their rehearsed lines. The older one walked away, leaving only the first and shoved a brochure into Kasey’s hands.
“Just from looking at you, I can tell that you’re an ideal candidate. Take a seat. Let me explain…”
---
Kasey stared at the approaching mask. Her head and body were quite snugly restrained, as was standard when she was on the testing floor.
She couldn’t quite put a finger on her emotions. The mask seemed to advance very slowly. Sometimes she assumed it was pure sadism, so that Phantom could build up the tension while the gag, probe, plug, or mask approached her face. Working for MirageCorp wasn’t the best job, but it was better than her previous job. And it was a job. The uniform was a bit different than her apron, though.
Kasey was one of just a few men and women who had proved compatible with the advanced “Kali control rig”. The rest of her group had been released or reassigned. The heavily hooded and generously gagged pony-boy who brought around the mail on Fridays had been in her program originally. She wasn’t sure if going from test subject to pone was a promotion. It wouldn’t have been her first choice.
...then again, getting suited up in the dronesuit and kali rig wasn’t her first choice either. Her suit was nearly 4mm thick, though tailored for maximum flexibility. The scientists had spent a while bragging about it being a ‘second skin,’ explaining to her that she wouldn’t need to take it off. Not that she could, considering how tight it was.
The uniform hugged her body comfortably. The boots were integrated into the second layer of the suit with relatively sensible heels. It felt good to stomp around in them. It was quite satisfying, in fact. That was important, since she spent almost all of her time wearing a web of straps that kept her arms in a comfy-but-strict boxtie. She’d gotten used to it. The thick sleeve behind her back reminded her of a purse, though rather than keeping her phone or wallet, it kept her arms sheathed and blocky. Straps kept the boxtie binder attached to the boned corset around her waist - an item which definitely helped her figure but was definitely not required for the sort of activity she needed to do.
The bottom half of the drone helmet covered her ears and went up to her chin. Plugs deep within her ears would relay instructions, ultrasonic hypnotic waves, and occasionally give her bouts of immense ASMR stimulation. It felt like people were whispering, kissing, and licking her with a passion she was pretty sure she couldn’t muster. What was she going to do - resign?
As Kasey sat in her training chair, strapped in tight, soft music and startup sounds began to play. The mask slipped over her face; an attachment at the bottom fitting a probe between her lips, and a white-frosted glass panel over the top of her head. Kasey felt herself fading into a trace.
Phantom and Aurora sipped tea and coffee (respectively) in the control room. From there, they could see into the vast array of work-rooms below. It felt a tiny bit like a prison guard tower, but Phantom likened it more to a video game - one in which she could see her loyal workers and subjects facilitating her whims.
“Who’s that one?” asked Aurora. She pointed out the window to one of the Kali Suit subjects. She stood tall, a hazy blue glow surrounding her, as four meta-magical arms materialized in front of her.
“That’s one of the Kali Suit subjects. Their arms are kept bound, while their psychic potential is channeled into their custom rig. It creates arms of incredible strength and dexterity; appendages they operate with just their mind. They’re capable of lifting, grabbing, reaching through walls - it’s quite impressive.”
Aurora pushed up her glasses and poked at the glass, motioning towards one in particular. “No. Not the program. That one.”
Phantom tapped on a keypad in the tower. “That one is subject… 6C-RMS.”
Aurora’s electric blue lips turned into a smile. “I want that one.” Light flashed against her glasses as she peered at 6C through the glass.
“Did you even hear her name? It’s a pun, it’s-”
Aurora shushed Phantom. “I’d like to speak with her.”
Phantom acquiesced. The two of them headed down to the testing floor. Phantom tapped a few buttons, and a door opened. A woman in an orange jumpsuit and true blue hair stumbled from the door, pushed by unseen hands.
“Try her out,” said Phantom.
“6C…”
The drone responded, standing from her chair.
“Restrain her please.”
6C did exactly as ordered. The efficiency of an automaton mixed with the creativity of a human, and 6C promptly grabbed the test subject in the air. Huge, glowing arms materialized from the ether to gently pick up the jumpsuited tester and bind her quite snugly. Tape covered her lips, her torso, and legs - and that was just with four arms. 6C gently placed the mmphing subject on the ground and awaited further orders.
Aurora smiled again, pushing up her square glasses and stepping forward. “Can she hear me?”
Phantom tapped another button. “She can now.”
“6C,” said Aurora, “You’re going to be mine. I know your type, y’know. A little desperate, a little bored, and without options. Well, don’t you worry about any of that. Now that you’re my drone, the only thing you worry about is me.”
6C nodded.
“The best thing is, you don’t even need to say yes. There won’t be any talking at all. I’ve already bought your contract for…”
Aurora flipped through a crumpled stack of paper in her purse. “Forever!”
6C stood still, nodding again.
“You’ll find her completely obedient,” said Phantom. “She might be reluctant, but she knows that this is her lot now. I think she’s going to make the best of it, and will make for a very good purchase.” Aurora nodded.
“Would you like this one gift-wrapped?” finished Phantom.
Aurora stared at 6C. One corner of her mouth upturned into a mischievous smile.
“Totally obedient?” asked Aurora.
“Of course.”
She stared at 6C, then pointed at Phantom. “6C… time for a promotion.”