Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories


by Penalt

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© Copyright 2021 - Penalt - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; fpov; scifi; gag; latex; catsuit; bond; hood; mask; enslave; buttplug; corset; toys; force; reluct; XX

Authors Note: This story was originally written as part of background lore for a science-fiction/fantasy RP group and was intended to be the first of several stories detailing the events and history of this setting.

The woman made her way through the darkened remains of what had been a quaint English town. The torn stumps of broken trees stood out from the ground, their ends seared like so many matchsticks. She made her way past the empty shells of homes, their interiors filled with nothing but rubble that had been picked through by countless scavengers.

She stopped for a moment at a ruined intersection, to get her bearings and rest for a bit. She was tall and lean, wearing the remains of what had been a hazmat suit over top of leathers that had likely come from a motorcycle shop. On one hip was a holstered pistol, on her other side the scabbard of a sheathed machete went down the length of a muscular thigh.

Reaching behind her into a backpack that was nearly empty, the woman pulled out a map that had been laminated against the elements, and the strange fey-light that had replaced the light of the sun glinted off the plastic. Orienting herself, she set off again for her destination, but not before rubbing at her throat and frowning at the filter mask she wore.

The old factory should be this way, Fiona thought to herself, picking her way over the cracked pavement toward the large factory she could just make out in the distance. Should be some good pickings there, maybe even some ammo.

Fiona sighed, and pushed on toward her goal, thinking on how much the world had changed over the past few years and how she had come to be one of the scattered survivors of all that remained of England.

She’d had a good job as a travelling accountant for a decent firm in Brighton, the headlines about the power experiment in France was something that she didn’t really pay attention to, except as something to distract her as she travelled to her next assignment. She’d been working on the accounts of a fellow with a large country estate when the Event happened.

Fiona hadn’t paid much attention, or worried about the heavy security the man seemed to have around his home. Electrified fences and biometric scanners were common for some types of businesses, though they did seem a little over the top for a private estate, even as one as lavish as the one she was at. She had been going over some figures with the client when everything had gone straight to hell.

The power had gone out first, before a backup generator kicked in and both she and Mr. Solson had looked up in alarm as the sky went dark a moment later. She heard a whoosh of wind, followed by a choking sound, and she turned to see Mr. Solson sinking to the ground. A shard of some sort of crystal, as thick as her wrist and a meter long had punched into his lower torso and sat there as if someone had planted a flag in him.

As Solson choked out his last, he had given Fiona instructions on how to access his “vault.” She would be safe there, he told her, and with more crystal spears beginning to punch through the estate and the ground she ran to the closet he had told her about. Closing the door behind her as the walls shook, she punched the code she’d been given into a keypad and screamed as the floor of the closet dropped away from her.

It turned out that Mr. Solson was what the Yanks called a “prepper.” The long, long slide had carried Fiona into some sort of underground survival shelter. Mr. Solson had obviously been expecting some friends to survive with him, as there were numerous beds, but no one had arrived between when the slide dumped Fiona onto a pile of cushions and the thunderous blast that had shaken the redoubt down to its bones and sealed off the access shafts.

Fiona had hid herself for the rest of that day, trying to hide from the impossible sounds and getting smashed on some very good vodka she had found in a case of plastic bottles. The vodka helped her go to sleep, only to be woken by a crash louder than all the others. For several moments there was a falling sensation, and nothing to breathe. Then there was an impact and everything went black.

Coming to, all was quiet and everything was tilted a bit to one side. In the days that followed Fiona discovered that the bunker was fully equipped with everything needed to survive a catastrophe, including a three month supply of food and water for ten people. A small alcove held an array of radio receivers, including a shortwave set, and it was through them that she had learned what had happened to the world.

France was gone, just gone, and England had been blasted like a bird in front of a shotgun. The weird science power experiment that had gone horribly wrong and now the world was in pieces. Fiona had decided to make the rations last as long as humanly possible when transmissions from America started jabbering about “Elves” and mutations caused by strange particles.

Eventually though, she’d been forced to head out in search of food and other supplies, and her first encounters with this new England had nearly resulted in her death more than once. Luckily the bunker had a wide variety of firearms, melee weapons, and body armour, as well as complete manuals in all their usage. With nothing to do for the better part of three years, except listen to the radio and study manuals, Fiona had become quite familiar with the use of everything in the bunker.

The reverie about how she had come to be in this hellscape ate up a fair bit of time, and it had also caused her to miss a new sign that read “Sharalis Dominion” by the side of the road. Still picking her way up to the factory on automatic Fiona also didn’t notice that she was being stalked. The predator watched her long lean legs moving back and forth with hungry desire, and shifted around to the prey’s back side where their long ponytail might cover their approach.

Fiona had just enough time to turn towards a bestial roar, as something collided with and bowled her over into the waist deep pond. Underwater she kicked and punched at whatever creature was attacking her until she managed to fight her way free. Standing up in the hip deep muck she ripped off her filter mask, and sucked in a deep breath of foul, life-giving air.

Twenty feet away from her the water humped and boiled upward as her attacker revealed himself. For a long moment the two stared at each other. On one side stood a woman in the tattered remains of biker leathers and body armor. On the other side stood something like a cross between a wolf and a frog, that stood as tall as she did.

The thing had huge jaws with upthrust lower fangs, and a leprous yellow coat. Its forelegs were muscular with large, grasping forepaws, and its powerful hind legs were built for leaping or running. Fiona considered running, but the dog-thing would be on her the instant she turned her back to flee. Instead, she slowly drew the automatic from its holster, gave it a flick to clear water from its barrel and drew a bead on the beast.

With another roar it leaped at her with a speed that didn’t seem possible, and she threw herself to one side while snapping off a couple of quick shots at the thing. It was then that Fiona realized the animal’s hunting strategy. It could move far better than she could in this environment, and it had deliberately shoved her into the pond so it would have the advantage over her, and have a sure kill if she tried to escape.

One of her shots had hit the beast, more through luck than skill and Fiona’s heart sank when she saw the lack of damage done to the creature. Her shot had stung the creature, that much was sure, but there was barely a scratch on it. Then the creature leaped again, forcing Fiona to make another dodge while snapping off some shots and a pattern began to develop.

The creature would lunge, Fiona would dodge while firing. Alternatively, whenever Fiona started to draw a bead on the thing, it would dive into the water and come at her from another direction as it used the water to deflect or slow Fiona’s shots.

Getting tired, Fiona thought to herself. If I don’t get out of this soon I’m just going to drop into its jaws out of sheer exhaustion. The frog-wolf, as she had started to call the thing, readied itself for another rush and Fiona decided to try something. Her pistol had an automatic setting, allowing it to empty its entire clip in a single short burst of destruction. Fiona’s thumb moved the selector up to the “auto” notch. Got to try something!

The creature leaped, Fiona plunged even deeper into the muck and held down the trigger as she aimed at the creature. She heard a yelp even as a stunning impact hit her gun hand, knocking her pistol away and she went under. A few moments later she got her footing underneath her and stood up, noting with some dismay that the water was now just underneath her generous bust.

She looked around for the beast and saw it standing up some distance away. One of its eyes was now a gory mess and it was moving with a pronounced limp.

“Not so cocky now, are you?” Fiona said, taunting the creature. Fiona began to wade her way toward the shore, and got two steps before something grabbed her ankle and she fell, again going under. She flailed as she tried to get up but whatever had grabbed her ankle refused to let go. Lungs burning, she managed to get both legs back under her and cleared the surface gasping for air.

The frog-wolf began to cautiously move towards Fiona and she moved back as far as the grip on her ankle would let her. As she moved her arm swished through the water and hit a line of some sort. Feeling it carefully she realized it was a steel cable of some kind, and realized that her ankle was probably snagged on a loop of the stuff. She could take about a step in any direction, but that was it. Drawing her machete she held it high as the frog-wolf closed in.

About a hundred yards away and up on a rise overlooking the access road and the pond, a figure watched the end of the drama begin to unfold before him. He was a lean figure, clad in a grey protective suit that glowed with flowing lines of protective magic that fought against the world around the man.

That has to be one of the loveliest human animals I’ve seen, Sabai thought to himself, dialing in the range on the scope of his massive rifle. It will be a shame to lose the feckshill as a watch beast, but it was supposed to ward away strangers, not kill them. He let out a slow breath, squeezing the trigger as he did so. The massive, human-made rifle bucked once, and did its job well.

The crack of the gunshot merged with the explosion of the frog-wolf’s head, and it sunk into the water not ten feet away from Fiona. She looked around wildly for a few moments trying to determine where the shot had come from. Then she realized she was making a wonderful target and dove into the filthy water.

Holding her breath for as long as she could she worked her hands down to her ankle, found the loop of cable around it and worked herself free. Lungs burning and not daring to open her eyes in what passed for water in the large pond, Fiona swam as far as she could before cresting the surface and drawing in a deep breath of air. Her attempt at stealth was ruined however, as the air wasn’t much cleaner than the water she was still hip deep in, and she spent the next minute coughing.

“Hello there,” said a pleasant male voice nearby and Fiona whipped her head to one side. About five meters away or so stood a tall thin man, dressed in some sort of suit of powered armor. She could tell the suit was powered from the glow of lights that pulsed up and down it in a slow rhythm. Fiona’s eyes focused on the huge rifle he held crooked in the corner of one arm.

“Hi,” Fiona said, conscious of her condition. The fight with the frog-wolf had wrecked her outfit, leaving most of her upper body exposed in some way to the elements. Now that she wasn’t distracted by a life-or-death struggle she could feel elements of whatever was in the pond starting to irritate her skin, and she fought off a furious urge to start scratching.

“I would like to know what you are doing in my pond,” the man said, standing in front of a vehicle that was the size of a large RV. “I killed my own feckshill to preserve your life, and I think I at least deserve an explanation.”

“Sorry sir,” Fiona said, in apology, her natural deference to authority coming to the fore, plus he had a rifle and she just had her machete left. “May I come ashore and explain things.”

“I would rather you stay right where you are, my dear,” the man said, moving the weapon slightly in his grip. “Not the least reason being that you are covered in effluent from the factory. I have no desire to be contaminated by it.”

“Please, let me get out of the pond then,” Fiona said, real fear beginning to creep up her spine. “Give me a chance to find a place to wash off, and I’ll be more than happy to tell you anything you would like.” The need to scratch was almost becoming a physical force now, and had spread up into her scalp.

“I’m sorry. You seem nice, but at this point the only thing that can save you is a full decontamination,” the man said, sighing. “My name is Sabai, by the way. I’m with the Sharalis Dominion.”

“You’re an elf,” Fiona said, and she finally gave in to the need, and scratched her hip. “Please, isn’t there anything you can do to help? I was just looking for some good salvage when that thing jumped me.”

“Drow, actually,” Sabai said, hiding his thoughts as best he could. He could tell the human girl was feeling the toxins from the pond beginning to work their way into her system. The scratching alone told him that. He wasn’t supposed to take any slaves, but it had been a while, the human was pleasant to look at, and maybe he could get her to volunteer.

“How long do I have?” Fiona asked, becoming resigned to her fate. She could go back to the bunker, seal herself in and drink herself to death. At least death wouldn’t be itchy.

“A couple of days at most,” Sabai said, putting his rifle aside. “Look I’m not supposed to do this. I was just supposed to prep the factory for the follow-on team, but I might be able to help you. Come on out of that stuff.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Fiona said, her skin beginning to feel like fire ants were walking over it as she waded toward the shore.

“This is going to be expensive,” Sabai said, checking the readouts on the outside of his mobile workshop and home. “You’ll need a full decontamination, plus a rosal suit to chelate the stuff out of your system and keep you from being contaminated all over again. Plus—”

“Look, I don’t have any money, but maybe we can work out a trade?” Fiona asked, reaching the shore and seeing the damage that had been done to the legs of her outfit.

“My little human,” Sabai said, pushing a few buttons that caused a decontamination and application station to start to unfold from his workshop. “Forgive me for saying so, but I don’t believe you have much of anything to trade with. Except for yourself of course.” Fiona gulped at the obvious meaning. She knew she was attractive, and for that matter the drow in front of her was pretty good looking himself.

“Um,” Fiona said, beginning to unzip what was left of her outfit. “I guess. Where did you want me?”

“Oh,” Sabai said, laughing a bit and waving a hand dismissively. “Maybe later for that. What I really want, is for you to work for me.”

“Okay,” Fiona said, brightening considerably. “I’m a trained accountant, but I’d be willing to learn whatever job you need me for.”

“Excellent,” Sabai said, smiling. “Finish stripping off and come over here.” Fiona did as she was asked, and feeling quite aware of her nudity stepped up in front of Sabai. She got her first real look at him. He was long and lean, holding himself easily. He had blue-grey eyes on a face that looked like it laughed a lot, framed by somewhat shaggy dark hair. Overall, he was almost disturbingly handsome.

“Now what?” Fiona asked, rubbing her arms instead of scratching them as she desperately wanted to.

“The procedure is very thorough and invasive,” Sabai said, unclipping a spray hose from the outside of the decontamination unit. “Take off what is left of your boots and kneel here so I can clean off your head and face.” Fiona peeled off the remains of her boots and sat back on her heels shivering a bit. She wasn’t sure if the shaking was from how vulnerable she felt or from the burning itch that was covering her entire body now.

“Close your eyes and mouth,” Sabai said. “The cleaning solution is quite harsh, so try not to breathe either.” Fiona nodded, and took a deep breath. Sabai took a moment to admire the outthrust chest of the animal in front of him, before applying the cleaning spray with as much speed and vigor as he dared.

By the time he was done Fiona was feeling the lack of air and she opened her mouth wide to breathe, only to feel something round and wide being pushed into her mouth. As the intruder pushed its way in and pinned down her tongue, Fiona’s eyes flew open and she felt Sabai buckling straps behind her head. Her hands went up to undo the buckles but stopped when Sabai gave her a sharp smack on her butt.

“Stop that,” he ordered, as Fiona looked up at him. “This is an air mask, meant to supply you with clean air. We need to make sure you don’t breathe in any more of the local toxins. Go ahead, take a breath.” Fiona inhaled and cool, clean air flooded her lungs.

That feels good, Fiona thought to herself and she tried to mumble her thanks, but the air device also seemed to make for a highly effective gag. She gave him a thumbs up, not noticing that the buckles were merging into the straps as the small nanobots there worked to make sure she couldn’t take the muzzle off.

“Up you get,” Sabai said, giving Fiona a hand up. “Step into the unit. Grab onto the handles inside and close your eyes. Brace yourself, the process is somewhat intrusive.”

Fiona nodded, and the air hose connected to her began to retreat, drawing her slowly into a white cubical about a meter square by two high. The door of the unit closed behind her, but lights came on and she could see the handles Sabai had spoken of. For a moment she considered ripping the air mask off and leaving, but the burning itch was making her twitch and shudder even more. Shaking she reached up and closed her eyes as she grabbed onto the handles.

Fiona began to hear a whirring, clunking sound from above and a moment later she could feel herself being deluged in a proverbial flood of liquid. The fluids hit her from all sides in a vast torrent. Under the deluge of water and whatever passed for soaps, Fiona understood why the air line was so important and why it had to fit so snugly.

The waters pounding against her began to warm and the heat seemed to soak into her limbs, making them feel lazy, heavy, and relaxed. After a few minutes the pounding water stopped and warm, vast torrents of air blew over Fiona and dried her off with great efficiency. It was all she could do to stand and as she began to sag she felt a pair of wide straps go over her wrists, holding her in place.

“Go ahead and go limp if you need to,” Sabai said, from outside the unit. “I’ve activated the restraints so you can’t fall, even if you try. Brace yourself if you can, the actual suit itself is about to be applied and it can be quite the experience.”

Even as he spoke the words Fiona could feel her body being enveloped by some sort of warm, slick substance. It took every ounce of her self-control to hold still, as she felt the substance flowing over her body from crown to heel. Like a slow moving wave of warm honey, the stuff soothed and cooled the itching as it covered every square inch of her body. 

That alone would have been enough to be thankful to Sabai for what he was doing for her, but the suit material also seemed to have a life of its own. Wherever it touched Fiona the material humped and rippled, almost as if it was tasting her with a million tiny tongues. Fiona shuddered, trying not to cum in front of Sabai, as the suit licked the hollow of her throat, the inside of her belly button, then her breasts and nipples.

She felt herself losing control however, when the suit enveloped and then pressed deep into her slit and began lapping at her clit. She thrashed back and forth as the suit seemed to tighten against her wrists, ankles and the base of her breasts. She could almost feel the exotic strangeness of Sabai grabbing her from behind, pulling her against his hard maleness, driving himself into her and…

Fiona lost control and gave herself to the first real orgasm she’d had in years. It went on for a long time, and when she came back to herself she realized that she was lying on the floor of the cubicle. The wrist restraints had released, the air mask was still attached to her though, still pumping cool, clean air into her. Sabai stepped in from behind her and pulled her up to a sitting position against him. It was so close to the fantasy she’d just played through that she almost came again in his lap.

“Have a look at yourself, 143,” Sabai said, and a panel of the cubicle turned to reveal a mirror. Fiona looked, and barely recognized herself in the mirror’s sight.

Fiona lifted her arm and her twin in the mirror did the same. She was covered in a slick black material that clung to every surface of her body. Hair-thin silver lines flowed along the contours of the suit, drawing the eye naturally to the sleek lines of her torso, legs and neck. When Fiona had first begun her ordeal, she had carried a little excess weight, but that had been replaced by lean muscle during the course of her struggle to survive, and this suit showed it all off—revealing nothing, but offering everything.

Fiona stood, and could feel the suit tugging at her intimate entrance again, trying to drive her into another orgasmic frenzy. To distract herself, she slid her hands over the glossy curves of her hips and the swell of her breasts, noting the glowing lines built into the suit as they reacted to her touch. She was about to turn to Sabai to ask him to take off the air mask, when he reached around her and closed a shining steel collar around her throat, just under her jawline.

What the hell? Fiona thought, as she clawed at the collar in a fury. Try as she might she couldn’t find a hinge, lock or catch on the steel circle. Sabai took a step back from her, watching her futile struggles with satisfaction and drew something from a pocket.

“Suit 143,” he said, in a clear voice, “Engage level one discipline mode, twenty second duration, begin.” Fiona’s mind whited out with pain as the entire suit around her body began to deliver a constant electrical shock over every inch that it covered. She tried to remain standing but the suit seemed to directly stimulate her leg muscles, curling them up against her body and preventing even the thought of resistance or escape.

After a seeming eternity of pain, the shocks stopped and Fiona looked up at her captor, even as he clipped a cable of some sort to either side of her collar. Unable to speak past the air tube in her mouth, she whined a complaint to Sabai to beg for her release, or even an explanation. 

“Now, now, 143,” said Sabai, and his face held simple satisfaction. “This is how my people train and use humans. Up you get, or I’ll have to use the suit override and have it walk you in.” 

As he spoke, the rear of the cubicle opened up into the back of the vehicle, and the two cables attached to her collar pulled taut. Realizing that escape, at least for the moment, was impossible, Fiona got to her covered feet and walked forward into the vehicle. The cables kept up a gentle, yet insistent pull on her, keeping themselves taut to ensure that she kept moving forward. The cables drew her several paces into what looked like a work area, and stopped as held her at a point where a cable stretched to either side, keeping her tethered in place.

“Welcome to the Sharalis Dominion,” Sabai said, stepping around her. “I’m sure you have several questions and you’re wondering what’s going to happen to you. Let me answer a few of them for you. First off, your life as a free human is over. From now on you will be a valuable and cared for addition to the Dominion.” 

Fiona again made what audible protest she could and waved her covered hands in a “What the Hell?” motion.

“Oh 143,” Sabai said, and Fiona realized she’d never told him her actual name. “Life with us won’t be without it’s rewards. You will be fed and cared for, the suit that is now bonding with your life processes will help keep you in the peak of health and there are other rewards as well.”

Fiona rolled her eyes at him, feeling again at her collar for some sort of release, and only feeling the tethering cables.

“Suit 143, engage reward mode, type three, one minute duration, begin,” Sabai said, in that same voice of command.

As he said the word “begin,” the suit around Fiona came alive once more, rippling, massaging and tugging, all on its own. The enjoyable wave of stimulation slowly rolled down Fiona’s body. For some reason, her inability to resist what was being done to her made the pleasure even more intense. She moaned, as her nipples were rubbed and tugged rhythmically, and as the wave of stimulation kneaded its way onto her vaginal opening and clit, she couldn’t help but wish that there was something solid inside of her that she could clench down on.

“Suit 143,” Sabai said, approaching Fiona with something in his hands. “Dilate rear openings.”

Fiona felt cold air on her nethers as they were exposed to the outside world. A sensation that was quickly replaced with a smooth hardness that filled her hot, clenching interior. She bucked her hips against the pleasurable intruder, only to feel another rounded hardness press its gradual way in past her rosebud. Fiona was too far gone in pleasure to care as every intimate nerve was stimulated. She was filled to the brink and she heard Sabai make a satisfied hum at her reaction. Just as she was about to cum again though, everything stopped, leaving her unsatisfied and unfulfilled.

“We have to finish your fitting, 143,” Sabai said chuckling as her plea for release became a request for greater reward. “I need to finish calibrating your tail as well.”

Tail? Fiona thought, confused. I don’t have a— Fiona’s train of thought broke off as she looked behind her and saw a long, dark tail arching out from her rear and heading to the ground in a sparkling ebony waterfall. She moved her hips side to side, and the weight of the tail made the plug inside of her ass move deliciously, as it rubbed the thin wall between that plug and the one in her vagina. She rolled her hips, trying to create more of that delightful friction, which Sabai put an end to with a short smack to her left butt cheek.

“Your tail is actually a transmitting antenna for your suit systems, as well as being able to connect to a waste disposal system,” Sabai said, pride in his voice. “Maintained properly, the tail never needs to be removed from a drone. Now arms up so we can finish things. Be a good drone and you’ll get a reward when we’re done.”

Like I have a choice, Fiona thought, even as she raised her hands high. A moment later and her torso was surrounded by a large device. Sabai pushed a button and the machine started wrapping what looked like multi-coloured threads that tightened around Fiona’s torso, from the bottom of her ribs to just above her hips. It’s a kind of 3D printer and it’s printing me into some sort of corset!

The corset tightened around Fiona as it was created in a single, inescapable piece that would hold her in its grip for as long as her captor wanted. As the machine slowed to a stop and was pulled away, Fiona noticed that the lines of her suit were nearly dark. Even her new corset, while supporting her, seemed dull and lifeless. It wasn’t until Sabai stepped behind her and attached something to the small of her back that the suit flared to life again.

“Power pack installed and operational,” Sabai said, nodding in satisfaction and stepping in front of her. “Almost done. I have to say, 143, you’re taking this very well. I’m going to take great pleasure in caring for you and making sure you’re trained to perfection. Ready for that reward?”

Fiona realized that she was well and truly trapped. Even if she did escape, where would she go? The world outside was a hellscape. Her little bunker was running low on supplies and sooner or later her luck was going to run out. At least with Sabai her physical needs would be taken care of, and who knows, maybe something more would happen down the line. Fiona lowered her arms to her side and nodded.

“Suit 143,” Sabai said, smiling. “Initiate linkup with main drone systems. Initialize drone training program for Drone 143. Initiate reward sequence two, continuous duration. Begin.”

On Sabai’s command the suit came alive again around Fiona, doing all the things it had before but now it also began to twist and piston the shafts buried in her intimate openings. All thoughts of future plans, all worries about becoming a possession, a thing, melted away in the inferno of desire and lust that the suit, her tail, and the probe stroked into being within her.

Fiona barely even noticed as Sabai took the air mask off of her and replaced it with a smooth ovoid shaped helmet. As he fitted the helmet to Fiona it filled her mouth with yet another gag. This time though she felt it extend a feeding tube down her throat and a pair of air lines down through her nostrils.

She heard a hiss as the helmet sealed itself around her head and the knowledge of the completeness of her captivity threw her over the edge. With no other option but to endure she let her mind go, and surrendered utterly to the pleasure within her.

Dear Sweet God! Take me, use me. Use every part of me! Fiona screamed in her mind. The tubes down her mouth and throat not only trapped her tongue, but also her vocal cords, rendering any sort of speech impossible. As orgasm after orgasm ripped through Fiona’s body and mind, she neither noticed nor cared. She was an animal now, a creature of nerve endings and feelings, of instincts and desires.

Logic and conscious thought had no place in the creature that had been Fiona any more. Fiona was simply no longer there. There was only 143.

Sometime later, as 143 recovered from her reward, a voice began to speak to her from inside her helmet.

“Welcome to the Sharalis Dominion, Drone 143,” said the Voice, as 143 rose to her knees. “This is the voice of Control. A good drone obeys Control. A good drone is rewarded. A rewarded drone is a happy drone. Welcome to the Sharalis Dominion, Drone 143. This is the voice of Control…”


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