Mind Hacks 2: The Night Drone

Copyright © 2015 z119z. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

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Every Friday afternoon when Roger rounded the bend on the parkway and saw the clock tower of the Chesterville town hall looming over the trees, it provoked an instant feeling of well-being and contentment in him. It was almost as if his eyes sought the tower out, and seeing it triggered a release of endorphins inside his mind. It meant that the exit was only a minute away now, and from there it was a short drive to their house—and to two glorious days of what Tim called a "good workout."

Tim's imaginative use of hypnosis had certainly improved his sex life. Tim once told him that he was the "perfect subject"—easily tranced, capable of visual hallucinations, responsive to post-hypnotic suggestions, able to follow elaborate scenarios. Roger didn't know if Tim's claims were true, but he did know that his susceptibility to hypnosis pleased Tim, and he had grown to like pleasing Tim. Even the thought of pleasing Tim made his cock throb.

The scenes Tim had him act out while he was in a trance seemed almost real. Sometimes he wasn't sure whether his memories were true or false. The things he experienced while Tim had him hypnotized were so intense that he could no longer tell what he had actually done and what he had just imagined doing. He had felt funny at first about the extent of Tim's control over his mind, but Tim had talked him past his inhibitions and introduced him to the joys of hypnosis-enhanced sex. Occasionally the thought occurred to him that he was becoming addicted, but he wasn't complaining. No, no complaints in that department. None. Zip. Nada. Quite the contrary in fact. Enthusiastic and willing subject—and beneficiary of Tim's skills, that's what he was now. He smiled in anticipation of what the weekend would bring.

Plus Tim was such an enthusiastic bottom. Tim loved it when he got a bit rough. In fact, Tim encouraged it. For a second a mental picture of Tim kneeling on all fours with his ass lifted to welcome the next stroke of the flogger and begging for even harder blows flashed through Roger's mind. It was an image that popped into his mind every time he thought of Tim, and he thought of Tim often.

Before he met Tim two years ago, he hadn't known of his hunger for dominance, let alone given it expression. He hadn't especially thought of himself as either a top or a bottom. Now he couldn't imagine enjoying "vanilla" sex ever again. He owed Tim so much. He still couldn't follow Tim everywhere Tim wanted to go, however. There were dark corners—extremely dark corners—in Tim's mind that exceeded his limits. But he trusted Tim without reservation. Tim would never transgress the boundaries they had agreed on.

His balls sack tightened, and his cock stirred, swelling within his tight-fitting briefs—another pleasure Tim had introduced him to. A pulse of arousal shot through his body. He could almost feel Tim's lips closing around one of his nipples and sucking it into his mouth, where his wet tongue would work its magic. Roger moaned. The weekend couldn't start soon enough. He needed to talk with Tim—right now.

"Phone Tim."

"Phoning Tim." A light on the dashboard console blinked.


Relaxation swept through Roger as he heard his partner's lovely, deep, comforting voice. "Hi, Tim. It's me. I'm just calling to let you know I'll be arriving home in a few minutes."

"Night Drone mode on."


Command Central transmitted a single chime of a bell to activate the Night Drone. It was fully recharged and ready for a new assignment.

The delivery module slowed and turned into a driveway of a secluded house in the town of Chesterville, New York. Command Central transmitted another signal, and the garage door lifted automatically. The transport module slowly eased itself into a parking bay. It turned itself off, and the door beside the Night Drone opened. It stepped out. It was wearing the street clothes, face mask, and skin coverings mandated for all out-of-facility assignments. In order to avoid detection when in public on the planet the natives called Earth, the Night Drone dressed in clothing similar to that worn by the locals and assumed faces and skins appropriate to the locale. Anyone encountering the Night Drone would see only a typical human being.

For this mission, Command Central had appropriated the body of one of the occupants of the structure—a man named Roger previously inoculated and processed by Command Central. By wearing Roger's body, the Night Drone could appear in public without arousing suspicion. Roger was a CPA and worked for a large accounting firm headquartered in New York City. He was a mid-level employee specializing in auditing companies seeking investors, and unless he was meeting with a client, he dressed in what Command Central labeled "off-the-rack, casual business attire." That morning, "Roger" had put on a dark brown tweed sports coat, tan trousers, a white shirt, and a green and yellow–striped tie. Before entering the delivery module, Roger had removed the coat and draped it over the front passenger seat. He had loosened the tie and pulled it away from his throat so that the knot hung a few inches below his neck. He had unbuttoned the top button of the shirt. Command Central dubbed this particular mode of dress "white-collar worker arriving home from work." The drone was only vaguely aware of how it was dressed. Command Central looked after such matters.

The drone entered the house using the keys it found in the right-hand side pocket of the trousers. Tim, the other occupant of the structure and the target of its mission, had not arrived yet. The drone walked upstairs and found the storage space used by Roger. It removed Roger's clothes and stowed them neatly away.

The Night Drone found its own skin in a box on the shelf where Command Central had left it. Just seeing the box made the drone feel better. It couldn't wait to get out of the Roger disguise and put its own skin on. The drone hated every second that it had to wear human camouflage. Human skin was so ugly and so blemished—disfigured by hair, blotches, bumps, wrinkles. Plus, the drone detested the way it exuded moisture. It was so clammy and fetid. But drying it out didn't help. When it got dry, it became flaky and itchy. Only a race as stupid as humans would think themselves the climax species of their planet. Jellyfish were superior to humans in every way.

The drone unfolded his skin carefully and laid it out on the bed. Even lying flat, it was beautiful—so smooth, so sleek, so perfect. The drone sat down on the bed. It lifted Roger's right leg and carefully threaded the human's foot down the leg of its own skin. It repeated the action with Roger's left foot. Then it stood up and slowly fitted its skin to Roger's legs. The midsection was a bit trickier. The drone had to smooth the skin around the different parts of the injector module so that it fit snugly. The hands and arms were next. Once the drone had the skin properly in place around those, it sealed the skin covering the torso. Only the head remained to be covered. It pulled its skin down over its skull and face, sealing the neck tightly to the torso. Finally it tucked the injector and its pair of matching serum-producing units inside the groin pouch and sealed that shut.

The drone felt such relief. No trace of the human remained. It was itself again. Its shiny black skin reflected distorted versions of its surroundings. The images flowed in sinuous curves as they followed the contours of the drone's body. The Night Drone was a moving echo of the world around it.

Now it just had to wait. The target would arrive in a few minutes. The drone switched off its consciousness and entered the dormant mode. Command Central would activate it when the target arrived.


"Target approaching." The Night Drone automatically checked all of its systems and signaled Command Central that it was ready to begin its mission.

In the kitchen, the human called Tim opened the refrigerator door. Command Central transmitted the message that, based on its prior observations of Tim, he had probably bought a prepared meal and was putting it away to eat later. It further noted that Tim would not have a chance to eat it. Tonight he would feed the Night Drone. There was more noise from downstairs, and then Tim climbed the stairs to the second floor and went into his bedroom. A closet door opened. The target was undressing. Time to commence operations.

The drone crossed the hallway and entered the bedroom. Tim had already removed his shoes and pants and was unbuttoning his shirt. He was facing away from the drone, but the reflection of the drone's approach caught his eye in the sliding mirrors that served as the closet doors. Tim swung about. "Who the hell are you?"

The drone noted the quiver in the human's voice. Good, fear was an appropriate response. Time to subdue the target. It stretched out its arms to block the human's escape route. The human backed into a corner and looked about wildly, searching for something to use to defend himself against the intruder. As the drone drew closer, Tim began shaking. He held out a hand to keep the drone away.

"Do not resist." The drone's voice was mechanical and expressionless. It grasped Tim's outstretched hand between its own and massaged it. "Do not resist," it repeated. "Struggling will tire you. Just relax."

The drone pulled on Tim's hand until the human's arm straightened to its full length and then lowered the arm until it hung by Tim's side. It noted Tim's lack of resistance. Good. The drone's CPU registered that its superior mental controls had already begun to work on the target. Just touching Tim had planted the seed-thought in Tim's mind that he could not resist. Tim was already beginning to acquiesce in the inevitable. Full control would take more time to achieve, but the human was already becoming compliant. The drone positioned Tim's other arm the same way. "There. That is better." It reached beneath the partially unbuttoned shirt and searched Tim's chest until it found his nipples.

It pinched the nipples between its fingers, crushing them flat. The human shrieked in pain and surprise. It cowered back into the corner. "There. That is better," said the drone. "You will learn to enjoy pain."

It cupped Tim's chin in the palm of its right hand and stroked Tim's lips with the thumb. Its skin was so shiny and black against Tim's fear-blanched face.

"Please, please don't hurt me."

The drone cocked its head and regarded Tim quizzically. Why did the humans always doubt what it said? It was a mystery. It should be obvious to them that they had lost control over what would happen. "You will learn to enjoy pain. It is how you will serve us. You will feed us your pain." It continued to stroke Tim's lips with its thumb. "There. That is better. Just relax. Accept what will be."

Tim moaned and shut his eyes.

The drone pushed Tim's lips apart with the edge of its thumb. Tim clenched his jaw shut tightly. He tried to push the drone's thumb away with his lips, but the drone ignored the human's efforts to resist. It rubbed its thumb over Tim's front teeth. It tightened its grip on Tim's face and slowly squeezed his mouth until the lips parted and formed an O. It pressed its forehead against Tim's. "Relax. Just relax. Accept what will be."

Tim's jaw gave way beneath the pressure, and his mouth opened with a gasp of air. He tried to wrench his chin free of the drone's grasp, but the drone tightened his grip. Tim abandoned his futile attempt at resistance. The drone stuck its thumb inside Tim's mouth and rubbed it over Tim's tongue. The human began gagging. The drone pressed its body against Tim and pinned him into the corner. It inserted first one finger and then another into Tim's mouth and slid them in and out. "There. That is better."

Tim's eyes opened. Beads of tears were forming in them. The human was becoming panic-stricken. Good, that would make him more tractable. Soon he would begin to cooperate in the vain hope that a show of acquiescence would spare him the worst. The silly fool didn't realize that once he began to surrender, even in the smallest way, he had started down the path to total submission and mindless obedience.

"Relax. Just relax and accept what will be." The drone continued to stroke Tim's tongue with his fingers.

Tim gagged again and then swallowed convulsively. His mouth suddenly closed tightly around the drone's fingers. He reacted with surprise as the drone's fingers filled his mouth, and his mouth flew open.

"Enjoy," the drone ordered. "Suck."

Tim gave in. The humans always did—their wills were so weak. They were no match for the Night Drone. Tim pursed his lips around the fingers and wrapped his tongue around the fingers. He began sucking on them, tentatively at first and then more vigorously as the pleasure centers of his brain registered the perfect smoothness of the Night Drone's fingers.

The target's mouth was warm and slick. Good. The invasion and subjugation of the human had begun. "There. That is better. You are learning. Pleasure comes from obedience, human."

With its free hand, the drone finished unbuttoning Tim's shirt. It pulled it off and tossed it away, leaving Tim clad only in a red thong and black over-the-calf dress socks. The drone wrapped his hand around Tim's balls and squeezed as he thrust the fingers of his other hand deeper into Tim's mouth, pushing the tongue down.

Tim winced in pain. His eyes flew open in surprise. Grunts and moans came from his throat as he vainly shook his head back and forth and tried to pull away. The human rose up on his feet until he was standing on his toes. His back arched, and his body pressed against the drone.

The drone crushed Tim's balls even harder, stretching them away from Tim's groin and twisting them in nearly a complete circle. It pushed its chest against Tim and forced him back against the wall. Tim gasped for breath, and his eyes watered. The drone felt his fear and pain.

With a final savage twist, the drone released Tim's balls and stepped back. The human fell to his knees. He coughed several times. A frothy glob of saliva oozed out of his mouth and onto his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

The Night Drone grasped Tim's head between his hands and forced it downward until Tim's mouth hovered over its right foot. The drone lifted its left foot and brought it down on the back of Tim's neck. "Lick." It pressed Tim's head onto its outstretched foot. There was a spasm of resistance before Tim complied. The drone felt the pressure of Tim's tongue on its foot. The first few licks were hesitant.

"Do it correctly. From the toes to the ankle. Get the skin wet. Make it glisten."

Tim's body swayed back and forth as he followed the drone's orders. With his tongue extended from his mouth, he licked the drone's foot from the toes to the ankle. A broad strip of wet skin gleamed in the light. The drone silently counted twenty-five passes over his foot.

"Stop." The drone released the pressure on Tim's neck and allowed the human to lift his head three or four inches. "Look at it. You can see your reflection. That is your future. You will be a reflection on my skin. Do you understand?"

The human nodded. "Yes, Sir," he whispered.

"Crawl over to the bed and kneel on it."

The human got up on the bed, facing away from the drone, its ass positioned within easy reach. It was almost as if it knew what the drone would do next. The drone stroked the human's ass gently, savoring its curves. The human responded by pushing back against the drone's hand. "Do not move."

"Sorry, Sir."

The drone slapped Tim's ass. "Silence. Do not speak unless you are answering a question."

The human nodded its understanding and hung its head.

The drone examined the area it had struck. It was still pale white. There was not even a tinge of pink. That would not do. Command Central's protocols of engagement stipulated that the target's ass had to become bright red prior to insertion of the injector. Cerise was the minimal acceptable color. Scarlet was the goal. The drone would have to make the human's ass a darker red than the thong he was wearing. The regulations specified that only the hands could be used to soften the target.

The drone set about its assigned task. First one hand and then the other rained blows across the human's buttocks, sometimes with the flat of its hands, sometimes with its fists. Its rubbery flesh pounded into the human. It had to subjugate the human and render it incapable of resistance. The drone ignored the human's cries and his thrashings about on the bed. The human's ass quickly turned color. Each blow made it grow redder and redder. The ass first turned a bright glowing red and then a rich vibrant maroon.

Each time the drone struck Tim, the human twisted its body away, presenting the other cheek for the drone to strike. At first the human knelt on all fours, but as the relentless blows multiplied, his body drooped until he was lying prone on the bed. Tim's squeals of pain turned to whimpers and then almost inaudible gasps. After fifty blows, his resistance faded. The human ceased to struggle. The noises issuing from his throat became murmurs of pleasure.

The drone began varying the speed and intensity of its blows. After each blow, the human began lifting his ass in anticipation of the next blow. Good, the inferior was learning to welcome the opportunity to offer his pain to its superior. The human stretched his arms across the bed and spread his legs. He twisted his head around to look at the drone for the first time. The drone struck him savagely, holding its hand against the spot it had just hit and digging its fingers into the human's flesh. The human's mouth opened in a silent howl.

Then he smiled.

It was the sign the drone had been waiting for. It grasped the human's thong in both hands and ripped it off. "Turn around. Kneel on all fours."

The human spun around, as if this was the command it had been hoping to hear. The drone opened its groin pouch and let the injection module swing forward. It was fully charged and ready to inoculate the human, but Command Central's protocols stipulated further softening of the human.

The drone looked down. A distorted version of the human's face was reflected on the head of the injector. The drone moved its hips from side to side. The human's eyes tracked the movement of the injector. It was a sign of the human's growing entrancement. The human was so subdued and obedient now that the very sight of the injector was enough to make him salivate.

"You look so beautiful reflected on my body, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"That is good. Just watch your reflection." The drone swung the injector back and forth in lazy arcs. The human brought his face closer. His mouth gaped open.

"Remember how my foot gleamed in the light when you licked it?"

"Yesss, Sir." The human slurred the s's.


The human's tongue found the injector and began licking it. The hesitation the human had previously displayed was gone. It obediently licked the injector from the tip to the base. With no prodding, it took the injector into its mouth. Command Central had programmed the Night Drone to experience enormous pleasure from human manipulations of the injector. The pleasure in turn increased the amount of serum it would eventually eject into the human. The drone began to thrust the injector forcefully into the human's mouth. It grasped the human's head on both sides and held it steady while it pounded the injector repeatedly into the human's throat. Froth and saliva began dripping from the human's mouth and running down the drone's legs.

The Tim-human was so skilled at sucking that the drone almost injected the serum into him prematurely. That would never do. It pulled out. "Just the tip."

As the human complied with his new orders, the drone bent forward and stroked the human's swollen and bruised ass. The human winced in pain. He automatically jerked back, but the moment his mind registered the fact that he had pulled away, he immediately brought his body back into position. The drone noted the human's compliance. Good, its touch caused the human pain and yet the human welcomed it. Very good. That was how it should be. The drone dug its fingers into the human's ass and spread the cheeks apart. It began stroking the area between the cheeks, until it found the soft spot, the injection site.

The Tim human curved his back to try to make it easier for the drone to finger the injection site. He turned his rear end to one side and inched it forward. He made little noises—mmmh, mmmh, unnh—as the drone stroked the site. When the drone pushed the tip of the finger into the Tim body, the human moaned. It closed its eyes and pursed its lips around the head of the injector, running its tongue over the tip. It grunted with pleasure. The lips of the injection site closed tightly around the drone's finger, begging for more. The drone slipped its finger into Tim up to the second joint and wriggled it back and forth. When Tim eased the hold of his sphincter muscles, the drone inserted a second finger and then a third. The human mewled with pleasure—and with hunger.

"Turn around."

"Pause Night Drone mode."

Roger stopped, frozen in place.

"Reprogram Night Drone mode."

"Accepting reprogramming." Roger's voice was dull and lifeless. He stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. He stood up, his arms at his sides, his mind blank.

"Reprogramming begins. The drone will accept orders from me as it fucks me. It will think the orders originate from Command Central. It will not realize that I am speaking. To the drone, the orders will be signals from Command Central to its brain. A control dial now governs the speed and intensity of the drone's thrusts. The dial is calibrated from one to ten. One is the slowest speed with the gentlest of thrusts. Each ascending number brings an increase of speed and intensity, with ten being the fastest speed and the most violent thrusts. The drone will not cum until it has been operating at setting ten for five minutes. Reprogramming ends."

"Reprogramming accepted."

"Resume Night Drone mode."


"One." Command Central transmitted the thought directly into the drone's CPU.

The drone held the injector in its hand. The human's ass was in front of it, titled toward the injector. It spread the human's ass apart and eased the injector into him. Slowly. Gently. It was important that the human be prepared and then aroused until it became mindless and obedient. That way the serum would spread instantly to all parts of his body. Command Central would gain immediate control over another human.

The human held its breath as the injector penetrated to its full length. The drone began moving it slowly in and out of the human. The human's ass closed tightly around the injector. It was as if the human did not want the injector to be withdrawn, even for a second. The drone moved rhythmically. Four seconds going in, hold position for another four seconds, four seconds pulling out. It withdrew the injector almost completely each time, leaving only the tip inside the target, before inserting it again. The drone became a mindless machine, its thrusts controlled by Command Central.

The drone's monitoring programs transmitted data on the human's reactions so that Command Central could adjust the injection procedure to gain maximum control. With each thrust in, the human closed its eyes tightly and gasped—just a small "oh" of pain, of surprise, of pleasure. Perhaps all three. It was hard to tell. The human's response was definitely positive, however. When the drone held the full insertion of the injector for four seconds, the human responded by moving its body and pushing back against the drone's body. It wanted more.


The drone speeded up slightly. Three seconds going in, three seconds hold, three seconds pulling out. As the injector reached its full insertion point, it nudged the human's ass with its groin—not hard or violently, but enough to jolt the human's body. The side of the human's face pressed against the bed slid forward over the quilt as the drone thrust the injector in and then back again as the drone withdrew. The flesh of the human's face pancaked as the bones of his head moved back and forth over the skin of his cheek. The human didn't seem to notice.


Two seconds in, two seconds hold, two seconds out. The drone pulled the human's ass cheeks apart so that its groin came into full contact with the human's injection point. The human pushed its face into the blanket on the bed. Its groans became louder. It was definitely feeling pleasure now.


One second in , one second hold, one second out. The drone's body slams began tenderizing the human's flesh and his mind. The human grasped the bed covers in his fists and pulled them toward his face. The human was drooling. A wet spot had formed on the bed near his mouth. His cries were getting louder.


The drone flipped the human over and held him up by the ankles, spreading the legs apart. It plunged the injector into the human again. It grabbed the human by the hips. Two thrusts per second. Minutes passed. The human's moans were continuous now. The slams of the drone's body into him were punctuated by louder grunts. The human's sibilant whispers grew louder and louder until they became a torrent of shouted yeses. He flung his head from side to side. His hands grabbed the drone's shoulders and pulled the drone forward onto his body. His legs encircled the drone's hips, clutching at it and drawing it closer.


Four thrusts per second. The human lifted his head and began licking the drone's body. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," he repeated over and over. "Harder, harder, harder."

"Surrender, human. You cannot resist. Surrender. You will serve us." The Night Drone lifted the human by his ankles and slapped his ass. The human cried out in pain and clenched his ass shut, squeezing the injector. Good. That would increase the amount of serum ejaculated and shoot it even farther into the human's body. The drone slapped the human again and again.


Six thrusts per second. The drone grabbed the human's cock and began stroking it. The human was thrashing from side to side now. He balled his right hand into a fist and stuck it in his mouth. The words became incoherent cries.


Eight thrusts per second. The human's eyes were open but it wasn't seeing anything.


The drone grasped the human's ankles and forced them back toward the human's shoulders, lifting the injection site. It pounded the human with all of its strength. Its only thought was to drive every shred of resistance from the human's mind.


All fight was gone from the human. But that wasn't enough. The human had to become nothing. His mind had to be destroyed. He pressed his head back into the bed. His face was contorted into a rictus. His mouth gaped open, and his tongue convulsed in meaningless cries. The clock in the drone's mind began counting down from ten minutes. Its movements became faster, its thrusts merciless. The only thought in its mind was to destroy the human's self-will and make him into a mindless, obedient slave.

As the clock neared the final seconds, the human's cock stiffened and throbbed. The injection site began convulsing, tightening around the injector. The drone no longer drew the injector out. It pressed it deeper and deeper into the human's body. When the drone released the serum, the human ejaculated. Great sprays of human cum covered his chest. The human was screaming with pleasure.

The drone waited until its body and that of the human stopped twitching. It pulled out and walked away. In the other bedroom, it removed its skin and put on Roger's skin again. Its skin would have to be cleaned. It would take care of that later. First, it had to complete its mission. It walked back into the other bedroom. It had resumed the Roger disguise so that it could collect the human and transport him back to Command Central for intake and final processing.

The human lay on the bed where the drone had left him. He had not moved in the time the drone had been gone. When the drone touched his body, the human stirred. He raised an arm and draped it across his eyes, covering half his face. He licked his lips and swallowed several times. Without opening his eyes, he said, "Night Drone mode off."


"Oh my god, what happened? You looked like you've been raped." Roger found the light switch on the wall beside the door and flipped it on. Tim's body lay sprawled across the bed. He wore only a pair of black dress socks. The odor of sex permeated the air.

"Trance mode on."

Roger's body stiffened. He stopped in place and stood erect. His mind became blank and still.

Tim wearily sat up. "Roger, when I came home, we had a 'good workout.' You will remember only that we had a session of great sex. You are exhausted. Both of us are exhausted. We need to rest. We will both crawl under the covers and rest for an hour. Then we will get up, take a shower, and have dinner. Trance mode off."

Roger snapped back into consciousness. "God, Tim, that was great. Sex with you just gets better and better." He flipped off the overhead light, pulled back the covers on the bed, and helped Tim get under them. He lay down beside him. "I'm so exhausted. I really need a nap now." He wrapped his arms around Tim and nuzzled Tim's neck. He took a deep breath, relaxed, and fell asleep.

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