Chapter 1: Chapter I - A Transfer of Ownership
Summary:
Ira rescues the drone who used to be his boyfriend.
Chapter Text
The drone woke. Its Controller needed it. When not in use, the drone was stored in a small pod in the storage room. It sent a query: How long has this drone been in stasis? The response: One year, twenty-one days, nine hours, two minutes. Is further precision required? The drone didn’t bother to respond. It opened the pod and walked forward. It tripped on something. It sent an order: Activate lights.
The storage room was a mess. The drone was incapable of annoyance, but the room was in noncompliance with its established layout. If the drone had not been specifically ordered to exit the storage room immediately, it would have returned the room to compliance first. It opened the door and stepped out into the storefront. Its master was sitting at the table across from a young man.
The man looked up at the drone as soon as it entered. “Brian?” he said. He pushed back his chair, lept to his feet, and ran towards the drone, tears streaming down his face. “Oh my God! Brian! Brian!” He wrapped his arms around the drone and held it close to him. The drone did not respond because it had no standing orders regarding a customer hugging it (the drone’s standing orders were to view all unknown people in the store as customers if its Controller was present, unless otherwise instructed).
“I take it this is the drone you were looking for?” its Controller asked.
The young man was still crying. “Yes, it’s him.”
That was not compliant. “Please do not use gendered pronouns when referring to this drone,” it said.
“Like I told you,” its Controller this time, “It isn’t your boyfriend. I’m sure it was, and I understand why you’d want it even though it isn’t, but kid, it’s not your boyfriend.”
“I’m still going to buy him.”
That was not compliant. “Please do not use gendered pronouns when referring to this drone,” it said.
The man walked away from the drone and gave its Controller something. A payment card was the most likely object, but the drone had no orders to make that assumption. Its Controller would tell it if it needed to know.
Its Controller took the object, pressed it to the scanner on the table, and returned it to the man. “Drone B7-28, your ownership has been transferred to Ira Katz.”
Query: Is the man in this room Ira Katz? Response: Affirmative.
The drone looked at its Controller and waited for orders. “Brian, are you okay?” He asked. The drone was not aware of anyone in the room named Brian; the question hadn’t been directed at it, so it remained silent. “Brian?”
Its Controller did seem to be referring to it. “Has this drone’s designation been changed from Drone B7-28 to Brian?” it asked its Controller.
“Like I said, not your boyfriend,” that was from the other person in the room, the one that wasn’t its Controller.
“Shut the f*ck up!” Clearly directed towards the other person, not it. Its Controller was upset. This other person was in noncompliance.
“Your words and/or actions have upset this drone’s Controller,” it said. “The cause at this time is unknown. Please alter your words and/or actions to be in compliance.”
“What the actual f*ck?”
“It was programmed to be a personal service drone with an overriding directive of ensuring its Controller’s happiness. Incompetently programmed, I might add. You won’t be able to change that, even with administrative accesses. I tried. It’s one of the reasons I haven’t been able to sell it; no one wants a drone that will reprimand her friends every time they annoy her.”
“I’m not a girl.”
A fact about its Controller. The drone took note: Referring to its Controller as a girl was not compliant.
“Sorry, I’m a bit old-fashioned. Tend to use the generic ‘she’ instead of ‘them.’ ”
Its Controller appeared mollified.
“C’mon, Brian,” said its Controller. “Let’s go.”
The drone took this as confirmation that its designation was now Brian and followed its Controller out of the room.
The drone had no orders. Its Controller would not give it orders; since installation the drone’s only actions had been basic maintenance and keeping its Controller’s apartment in compliance. Its Controller had told it repeatedly that it was allowed to leave the apartment, but He had also said that He would not accompany it when it went out, that He wanted the drone to be independent. The drone had no reason to leave the apartment, although it did so occasionally. This seemed to make its Controller happy. The drone wanted its Controller to be happy.
The drone’s Controller read a lot, but had rejected its offer of reading aloud to Him so He could engage in other tasks while listening. The drone did not know what its Controller was reading, but it seemed to be difficult. Its Controller frequently consulted other references while reading. That its Controller was struggling in His reading was not noncompliance; difficult tasks brought satisfaction upon completion.
“Okay, Brian. I’m going to try something.”
The drone waited. It was incapable of hope, but it calculated the probability of receiving an order to be 87.93%: it could obey that order and be in compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance.
“Administrator Override: Restore drone access to all memories.”
The drone complied. The drone was incapable of confusion, but certain elements of its existence that had been incongruous now made sense. Making sense was good; it made compliance easier.
“Do you know who I am?”
“You are this drone’s Controller. You are also Ira Katz, age twenty-two, former high school student. You are not a girl. Your parents’ names are--”
Its Controller sighed. The drone stopped.
“Former high school student?”
“An assumption. This drone does not know its Controller’s current occupation. It has memories of its Controller being in high school, but probability calculations indicate only a 0.0004% probability that this is still the case. That probability is functionally 0.”
“Do you know who I am to you?”
“You are this drone’s Controller.”
“Okay, sorry. Do you know who you were to me before you were a drone.”
“Invalid query.”
Its Controller appeared frustrated. That was not compliant. “This drone believes its Controller may be referring to the first owner of its body. That owner was Brian Davies. He was Your boyfriend.”
“You are Brian Davies. You are my boyfriend.”
“Has this drone’s designation been changed from Brian to Brian Davies? Has this drone been given the function ‘boyfriend’?”
“Dear God in Heaven. Brian, I want you to be my boyfriend again, but only if you want to. Being a boyfriend is a relationship, not a function.”
The statement was difficult to parse. The drone wanted its Controller to be happy, its Controller wanted it to be His boyfriend, its Controller also only wanted it to be His boyfriend if the drone wanted to be His boyfriend. Wanting to be its Controller’s boyfriend would make its Controller happy. “This drone wants to be Your boyfriend.” The drone calculated a 61.23% probability that it was in compliance.
“You have all of Brian’s memories, yes? The old Brian, I mean, not the drone.”
“Yes.”
“So why aren’t you Brian?”
“Invalid query.”
“Why invalid?”
“Query implies a violation of the law of identity. This drone and Brian are not the same thing. Therefore, this drone is not Brian. Queries that violate the rules of formal logic are invalid.”
Its Controller appeared to be thinking.
“If I ordered you to pretend to be Brian, my Brian, from before. Could you?”
“I think so,” said Brian.
Brian calculated… no, Brian did not calculate probabilities. He was Brian. Calculating probabilities was not compliance. Brian made an educated guess that his Boyfriend was hungry. Brian Davies had liked to cook, but wasn’t very good at it. As a drone, Brian was an expert. He wasn’t sure whether his Boyfriend would want him to use skills that Brian Davies had not had.
He hadn’t been given an order to cook, but Brian didn’t need orders. Brian acted on his own volition, in accordance with his own desires. Brian’s only desires were to make his Boyfriend happy and to be in compliance. So he made his Boyfriend breakfast, a good one, but not the best he was capable of. He worried that deliberate underperformance was noncompliance.
“I made you breakfast, Ira,” he said, and placed the blintzes on the table.
His Boyfriend stood up from the couch and walked over. “I’ll get another plate,” He said.
“Is there something wrong with the one I used?” he asked. If the plate was not in compliance it could be removed.
“No, but I don’t actually want to eat off the same plate as you. It was a sweet gesture though.”
Brian was confused. He had made blintzes for his Boyfriend; he had not made a gesture, sweet or otherwise. Then Brian made an educated guess that his Boyfriend wanted him to eat blintzes too. Brian had already eaten to satiation; further eating would be unhealthy. To be healthy was to be in compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance. “I already ate,” he said.
“What’d you have?” Was his Boyfriend’s voice tinged with disappointment? Brian made an educated guess that it was.
“Yogurt, an apple, some broccoli, and two slices of bread.” They had satisfied his nutritional requirements.
“What’d you put on the bread?”
“Nothing.” There had been no need to.
“Wasn’t it… bland?”
“Yes, it was bland.”
A look of… horror? on his Boyfriend’s face. “Which flavor of yogurt did you have?”
“I ate some from the carton of unflavored yogurt.”
Brian realized his error. “You think I should have eaten something You think tastes good.”
“No, I think you should have eaten something you think tastes good.”
“I don’t know how to tell if something tastes good.”
“Oh. Did the bastards take away your sense of taste?”
“No. But I don’t know how to make that sort of qualitative value judgment. I get the idea of You liking certain flavors, colors, and sensations. But the idea of having my own… that doesn’t make sense. I like what You like.”
“But you remember what you liked? Before, I mean.”
“Yes, but people’s tastes change. If I were a person, mine would have too.” As soon as he said it, he realized it was not compliant. Brian was a person. He was Brian. Therefore, he was a person. “Besides, I pretty much only liked junk food back then.”
“And now you won’t let me bring it into the house.”
That was wrong. Brian would never tell his Boyfriend what to do. But Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy. The brief happiness He would get from a sleeve of Oreos was minimal compared to the happiness that would come from a healthy, balanced diet. Yes, with dessert too, but his Boyfriend would like the desserts he made more than some processed cookies. Eating Oreos was not compatible with long-term compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance, but without orders, he could only be in compliance if he worked out for himself what would make his Boyfriend happy. There was an obvious solution.
“You could just order me not to throw out junk food.” By now, it was an old argument. More than anything, more even than his Boyfriend’s happiness or compliance, Brian wanted orders. Brian should only want his Boyfriend to be happy and to be in compliance. Wanting orders was not in compliance.
“I’ve asked you not to.”
“It isn’t the same. When You make a request, You want me to want to do the thing. But what I want is for You to be happy. Junk food doesn’t actually make You happy, it just numbs the pain. That’s why I set up an appointment for You with a therapist.”
“You did what?”
“You need therapy, Ira. Losing me was traumatic, and You’ve been repressing that for years, pretending like it doesn’t affect You. But I hear what You scream at night.”
“I don’t want you to tell me what to do!” But not, Brian noticed, Don’t tell me what to do! His Boyfriend had become annoyingly aware of what Brian would and would not interpret as an order. Annoyance was itself annoying. As a drone, Brian had never been annoyed.
“But I do.” Brian still found it confusing that arguing with his Boyfriend was compliance, but he had made an educated guess several weeks before that his Boyfriend saw arguments as a sign that he was becoming more of a person. His Boyfriend wanted him to be a person. If Brian were a person, that would make his Boyfriend happy. Brian couldn’t be a person, but he could pretend. Pretending to be a person was compliance.
Ira really didn’t want to go to therapy, but Brian did want him to and Brian wanting things, wanting anything, was wonderful. He wasn’t sure whether Brian would be unhappy if he skipped his appointment, he still couldn’t tell whether Brian had emotions, but it might make Brian unhappy, and if it did it would actually make him unhappier. Because Brian definitely wasn’t happy. Either because he was incapable of happiness or because Ira wouldn’t give him orders, objectify him… or f*ck him. But Brian wasn’t capable of consent, no matter what he claimed. Not having sex with a hot man who begged for it was difficult, especially since he always woke up with Brian in his arms, erect co*ck against Brian’s ass.
He’d tried to make that stop too, but short of ordering Brian not to climb into bed with him, he couldn’t stop him. Waking up with Brian in his arms made him happy, and Brian knew it. f*cking him every morning would make him even happier, and – damn it! – Brian knew that too.
“Dr. Marsh will see you now,” said the drone working the reception desk. Brian rose and walked into her office.
“Mr. Katz.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Take a seat and tell me why you’re here.”
“Because my boyfriend scheduled an appointment without telling me.”
“No, that’s why you had an appointment. Why are you here?”
“Because Brian, that’s my boyfriend, wants me to see a therapist.”
“And why does Brian want you to see a therapist?”
“He thinks I’ve been ‘repressing trauma,’ whatever that means.”
Dr. Marsh looked at him, but said nothing.
“He’s a drone now. He pretends not to be, to make me happy, but… he’s not Brian, not really.”
“Therapy is about learning how to solve problems that can be solved and manage problems that can’t. From the onset I’m going to warn you that I won’t be able to tell you how to make Brian into a person again. The fact that you want it – no, him? – to be a person is something you may able to manage. But I can’t magically make you okay with his being a drone. I doubt you want that anyway.”
“No, I don’t. It’s not okay that Brian’s a drone.”
“How do you feel about drones in general?”
“No offense, but it’s sick and I almost left when I saw you had one.”
Dr. Marsh nodded.
“But then I thought, how likely is it that there are any therapists without drones?”
“There are some. I could give you a referral. But Chloe’s in a somewhat similar situation to Brian. Except I’ve given up on trying to get it to act like a person. I try to keep it happy, give it orders, but…”
“It?”
“I can’t stop thinking of it as Chloe, but she/her pronouns somehow hurt more than just acknowledging that it’s a drone and drones don’t have genders. But we aren’t here to talk about my granddaughter.”
Ira winced. “I’m sorry.”
She waved a hand. “It’s an old pain by now. And I have my own therapist for it. Back to Brian…”
Should Brian clean his Boyfriend’s apartment? On one hand, the apartment was messy, and that was not compliant. On the other hand, his Boyfriend didn’t want him to clean the apartment, at least not alone, and Brian couldn’t make an educated guess as to whether his Boyfriend’s happiness from a clean apartment would be outweighed by His displeasure that Brian had acted like a drone. On the third hand, his Boyfriend hadn’t ordered him not to clean the apartment. Maybe if Brian cleaned the apartment, his Boyfriend would order him not to clean it again. Brian wanted an order; he could comply with orders.
So Brian cleaned the apartment. Thoroughly. Then he stood by the door, waiting for his Boyfriend to come home. When his Boyfriend came home He was clearly displeased. “Brian, please don’t do chores every time I’m not here.” Not an order. “Please” made it a request.
“What should I do, Ira?”
“I don’t know. Play video games, go for a walk, contact your friends.”
Brian didn’t see any reason to do those things, but he wanted to make his Boyfriend happy. If playing a video game was compliance, he could do it. Well, he could play a video game and go for a walk. He didn’t have any friends, and while he had memories of Brian Davies having had friends, he had made an educated guess that, like his Boyfriend, they would be upset by what he was. It wouldn’t make them happy, and their misery over what he was would make his Boyfriend unhappy. Therefore, contacting the friends Brian Davies had had was not compliant. Brian made an educated guess that his Boyfriend knew it too; his Boyfriend wasn’t in contact with any of His friends who’d known Brian Davies. Actually, his Boyfriend wasn’t in contact with many people at all.
That was another compliance problem. Socialization was good for his Boyfriend. He needed to have people to be friends with. Brian wasn’t a person, and pretending to be only went so far. But his Boyfriend wasn’t socializing. That was not compliant. More and more Brian was beginning to realize just how noncompliant his Boyfriend was. This was unacceptable. If his Boyfriend were compliant He would be happier. But none of Brian’s efforts to get Him to give orders had succeeded. His Boyfriend wanted him to be a person, but Brian didn’t like being a person. And that was all kinds of wrong. He wasn’t supposed to dislike things. Disliking things was not compliant.
Brian was not a drone, however much he might wish he were. Brian acted on his own volition, in accordance with his own desires. Brian’s only desires were to make his Boyfriend happy and to be in compliance. He settled on a course of action. Should he ask permission? Brian made an educated guess that his Boyfriend would really, really dislike his plan. But Brian’s plan would eventually make his Boyfriend happier than He was now And his Boyfriend hadn’t ordered him not to do anything in his plan. Drones didn’t ask for permission; people didn’t need to, although it might be advisable. His Boyfriend wanted him to be a person. Brian would take Him at His word.
Chapter 2: Chapter II - Brainwashing Isn't Just for Drones
Summary:
Brian brainwashes his boyfriend to make him more dominant.
Chapter Text
For once, Ira didn’t wake up with Brian in his arms. He also didn’t wake up in his bed. He was tied to a chair and gagged. What the actual f*ck? He tried to open his eyes, but apparently he was also blindfolded. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, and all he could hear was a voice, too faint or far away to discern the words. But not too faint or far away to discern the speaker. It was Brian.
But no, not exactly. As the voice became louder he realized it must be a recording. Brian couldn’t speak with multiple voices overlapping, each saying a different thing. But what were they saying? It was hard to distinguish words from the cacophony. But a few were frequent enough to catch: “Orders,” “command,” “pleasure,” “control.” Then the voices began to vary. Some got louder, others softer; some faster, some slower; some higher and higher in pitch, some lower and lower in pitch. Then, a mouth on his co*ck. Brian’s mouth? Did he want it to be Brian’s mouth?”
As soon as he thought it, the voices stopped their varied monologues. “Yes,” they said. “Brian’s mouth brings You pleasure. Pleasure is good. Pleasure is what You deserve.” Then the cacophony returned. The mouth, Brian’s or otherwise, was definitely bringing him pleasure. As he got closer and closer to the edge, the voices dropped out, one by one. They had all dropped and he was just about to cum, but then the mouth left. He tried to speak, to beg the mouth to come back, but he was gagged. All he could do was moan.
A voice in his ear. Brian’s, possibly a recording, possibly not. “A person can stop sucking You whenever he wants. But a drone will suck until You tell it to stop. A drone only wants You to feel pleasure. If I were a drone, You could order me back onto Your co*ck. You could order me to do anything.” At that last word, something touched his co*ck and he went off. God it felt good, the best org*sm of his life. Better, somehow better than best, even if that made no logical sense.
“Giving orders feels good,” Brian said. “Being obeyed is pleasure. You deserve to control and dominate.”
Yes, that sounded ri… No! No, that was wrong, all wrong.
A painful shock ran through his body.
Brian disliked causing his Boyfriend pain; it felt like noncompliance. But this pain was temporary, and it served a purpose. His Boyfriend would learn that equality and reciprocation in sex were not compliant; his Boyfriend should receive pleasure, org*sms, and obedience. Brian should receive only whatever his Boyfriend’s capricious whim decided. A line from a book, read long ago, came to his mind, You could make things right or make things wrong, and you could decide which is which. He wanted his Boyfriend to know that, to realize that His happiness mattered more than other people’s, especially more than the happiness of things like Brian that weren’t even people.
Brian was hard, but he ignored his erection. This wasn’t about him. His Boyfriend wanted things to be about him, and that was not compliant. Nothing should be about him. Compliance happened when his Boyfriend had total control, total discretion. Time to continue the monologue. “Brian is not a person. Brian is a drone. Caring about Brian’s feelings is not compliant. Brian exists to serve You. Brian has no existence outside of You. Treating Brian like a drone makes You happy, treating Brian like a person makes You upset. When You think Brian is a person You care about his consent, his wishes. This is not compliant. Brian has no wishes other than to make You happy and to be in compliance. Brian always consents to everything You do to him.
“Commanding Brian brings peace and pleasure. When Brian obeys You, You are happy. Brian will never disobey You, but if Brian does not satisfy You, You can punish Brian. You should punish Brian. Punishing Brian bring pleasure in the moment from causing Brian pain; it brings pleasure in the future by ensuring Brian’s compliance.
“Brian exists to comply with Your orders. You exist to give Brian orders and to be obeyed. Brian’s obedience is bliss. What You want matters; Brian only wants to make You happy and to be in compliance. When Brian is in compliance You are happy. You want Brian to be in compliance.”
Brian removed his Boyfriend’s blindfold. “Look at me, Ira,” he said. “I want this. You want this.”
Ira tried to shake his head, tried to say “No,” but he couldn’t. The bonds were too tight, the gag too filling. He had no way to give Brian orders. And he wanted to give Brian orders. To untie him, to ungag him… and to grovel at His feet and beg for forgiveness. The f*ck? What was that last thought? No, he didn’t want Brian to grovel, although it would be hot and… No! f*ck. Brian was his boyfriend, not His drone. But Brian could be His drone. Brian wanted to be His drone. And why shouldn’t he be? It was what he was for, after all.
He would punish Brian for this. The thought of Brian whimpering in pain made Him hard. He felt the voice that kept saying “No” try to rise up and pushed it back down. Maybe it was wrong to treat Brian like a drone (it probably wasn’t), but He was definitely going to punish Brian. Punishing a boyfriend was okay, right? Certainly punishing Brian was good, especially if Brian wasn’t in compliance.
Brian’s voices began to speak again. Once more individual words were drowned out in the cacophony, but this time that was okay. The voices were there to help Him control Brian, own Brian. Brian wasn’t His boyfriend, Brian was His possession. An object. A particularly useful object that provided endless possible sources of entertainment, but an object nonetheless. His object.
The light began to strobe as the voices merged, reciting in chorus, “Giving Brian orders is compliance. Asking Brian to do things is not. Brian does not have a choice when You want something. Brian should not have a choice when You want something. Brian is there to fulfill Your desires. Brian owes You total, unquestioning obedience and service. You owe Brian nothing.”
But no, that was wrong too. He loved Brian. He wanted what was best for Brian. But what was best for Brian? Certainly it wasn’t Ira strapped to a chair, helpless and at Brian’s mercy. It should be Brian strapped to the chair, helpless and at His mercy. Not that Ira was feeling merciful. Brian was wrong: He did owe Brian. Owed him a flogging, thorough f*cking, and orders. Lots and lots of orders. Freedom and choices were bad for Brian.
Once more the voices diverged and Ira couldn’t work out what they were saying. But whatever the words were, they were relaxing, made Him feel good, made Him feel powerful. Brian was kneeling in front of Him, taking His co*ck back into his – its – mouth. The pleasure when He came was so intense that He blacked out.
Brian caught the exact instant when its Boyfriend stopped thinking about it with gendered pronouns. Its Boyfriend was in compliance. But would that last? Its Boyfriend tied to a chair and brainwashed was very different from Him free and able to speak. Giving Him His mouth back would be dangerous. He might order Brian to release Him. Of course, that would be an order, and Brian could follow that order and be in compliance, but it wasn’t the order Brian wanted. Was wanting a specific order compliant? Brian should only want its Boyfriend to be happy and to be in compliance. It was its Boyfriend’s job to decide what compliance meant, within reason.
Worries and concerns were things Brian shouldn’t have; they were not compliant. But its Boyfriend hadn’t been compliant and it couldn’t risk Him becoming noncompliant again. It had to worry. It had to be concerned. Worry and concern were compliance if they were in its Boyfriend’s service. Brian knew that wasn’t logical, but logic was compliance. It was impossible to apply logic to a Boyfriend who wasn’t compliant. Brian replaced its Boyfriend’s blindfold, removed His gag, and put itself on standby until its Boyfriend woke up.
Its Boyfriend woke up (Query: How long has Brian’s Boyfriend been unconscious? Response: One hour, six minutes. Is further precision required?) and started yelling. “Brian? Are you there? Untie me right f*cking now!” An order. An order meant obedience. Obedience meant compliance. Happiness was probably not compliance, but Brian was happy anyway. It untied its Boyfriend. Its Boyfriend removed His blindfold.
“Brian? What the f*ck?”
How to respond? Brian wanted to respond as a drone. If its Boyfriend were still in compliance, then responding as a drone would be in compliance. But if its Boyfriend were not in compliance, then responding as Brian would be in compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance more than it wanted respond as a drone. Wanting to be in compliance was itself compliance. Wanting to be a drone was only compliance if wanting to be a drone would make its Boyfriend happy.
“Which Brian? Brian Your boyfriend or Brian the drone?” Asking a direct question was not compliant, but Brian preferred the noncompliance of asking a question to risking the noncompliance of making its Boyfriend unhappy. Having preferences was not compliant. Brian’s head hurt from trying to untangle it all. A headache would make it less able to serve its Boyfriend. A headache was not compliant. Brian suppressed the headache.
“Brian, I don’t want to give orders, but never do that to me again.”
Its – his – Boyfriend was not in compliance. But He had given Brian an order. Brian could obey that order and be in compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance. “I’m sorry, Ira,” he lied.
“Are you? Be honest.” Ira clapped a hand over His mouth after He said it. “I didn’t mean for that to be an order!”
But it had been. It had been an order. Brian could obey that order and be in compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance. “No,” he said. “I’m not.”
“Why did you – no, nevermind. I know why. What I don’t get is why you want to be a drone.”
Brian almost said “Invalid query,” but that wasn’t something Brian-Ira’s-boyfriend would say. It also technically hadn’t been a query. He suspected responding would be more compliant than silence, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Brian… are you… are you crying?”
Was Brian crying? Crying was rarely compliant, but he found himself unable to stop. He had lost control of his body. Autonomous loss of control was noncompliance.
Brian was crying. That was… surreal. And not good. Ira didn’t want Brian to cry. He wondered if Brian would stop if he ordered him to. The idea of giving Brian an order felt good. Maybe he should order Brian to stop. Maybe he should order Brian to sink to his knees so he could f*ck his face. His co*ck twitched at the thought. Brian wanted orders, that had become painfully obvious – Ira rubbed His wrists, still sore and chafed from His bondage – and Ira had a lot of orders He suddenly wanted to give. No! No no no no NO! Ira would not give Brian orders, no matter how much Brian needed them.
Brian needed orders. Brian also needed to be punished. Ira mustn’t give in, mustn’t give Brian what he needed. Then Brian moaned, “Please.”
Ira knew what he meant. “I’m not going to give you orders, Brian, and I’m not going to punish you. That’s your punishment.” Brian stopped crying immediately. “Thank you, Ira!” he said, and sank to his knees. “Brian,” said Ira, “Why are you kneeling? I didn’t ask you to kneel.”
“Are you ordering me to stand, Ira?”
f*ck. Brian’s attempt at manipulation might be transparent, but it was no less effective for that. If Ira asked Brian to stand, he would refuse, since that wasn’t an order and doing what he wanted instead of what Ira wanted would make Ira happy if Ira were sincere about wanting Brian to be a person. If Ira ordered Brian to stand, he would obey, but Ira would implicitly reinforce his superiority over Brian in the process.
“Fine, stay kneeling.”
“Yes, Ira.” f*ck! That had been an order. And now that he’d been ordered to kneel, Brian could remain kneeling until ordered to get up. In fact, if Ira understood drone logic correctly, Brian had to remain kneeling until ordered to get up. Ira was pretty sure he understood drone logic correctly. Wait, maybe if he phrased it as a permission rather than an order… “You can stand up.”
“Thank you, Ira.” Brian remained kneeling.
“Will you please stand up?”
“No, Ira.”
Before his brainwashing, Ira would have been delighted that Brian had explicitly defied him. Now though… he slapped Brian’s face. It felt good. It felt really f*cking good. And then it felt awful. “I’m so sorry Brian, God, I’m so sorry.”
But Brian looked… happy? Of course. Brian wanted to be punished. And deserved to be punished, too. Suddenly Brian was standing, holding Ira in his arms. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “You can give in. You can hurt me, punish me, f*ck me, order me to do whatever You want. I want You to. I need You to. Please Ira, punish me.”
Chapter 3: Chapter III - Punishment and Pleasure
Summary:
Ira grapples with the moral implications of owning a drone.
Chapter Text
“He did what?”
“Tied me up and tried to brainwash me.”
“That’s…” Dr. Marsh seemed to be at a loss for words.
“Yeah.” Ira was also at a loss for words.
“And um… ‘tried’ isn’t really the operative word there. I feel different.”
“Different how?”
“More confident. More powerful. Stronger. And I keep thinking of Brian as My possession.”
“So it feels good?”
“Yes. But… feeling good also feels bad. I don’t think I should want to feel this way. I only feel this way because Brian f*cked with my head. But I also don’t want to stop.”
“Why not?”
“Partly because I like feeling powerful, but also… Brian must really think he needs me to think of him as a drone to do this. I want what’s best for Brian, and it feels weird to say that I know what’s best for Brian better than he does. Except…”
“He’s a drone who’s literally been programmed to think that what he needs is a Controller.”
“What should I do?”
“I can’t tell you what to do, Ira.”
“Okay, what would you do?”
She held up a finger. “First, you will need to punish Brian. He’s a drone, and drones are programmed to evaluate the severity of their noncompliance by the severity of their punishment.”
“He’s already obsessed with compliance.”
“Yes, but right now he’s basing his ideas of compliance mostly on his programming from before you bought him. If you want him to see ‘trying to brainwash Ira’ as bad, you’ll need to reinforce that. Otherwise he may… creatively interpret your decision not to punish him as meaning you weren’t actually serious when you said not to brainwash you again.”
“That’s a thing?”
“Drones’ minds are more complex than they let on; I think maybe also more complex than they realize themselves. And they can be extremely good at motivated reasoning. Personal service drones like Brian, like Chloe for that matter, are the best at it. It’s why no reputable producer makes them anymore. An overriding imperative of ‘make my Controller happy’ is a recipe for disaster, as you’ve seen.”
Dr. Marsh held up another finger. “Second, a punishment that hurts you may be more effective than one that hurts him.”
“I shouldn’t just spank him?”
“It would work. Drones respond to pain as a form of punishment, but there’s a difference between a punishment a drone will learn from and one it – he – actively dislikes. I’m not sure your Brian would actually dislike being spanked.”
“Why not?”
“Ira, you were audibly disappointed when I said you shouldn’t hurt him.”
“Wait, what?”
“Brian wants you to be happy. If hurting him would make you happy –”
“It wouldn’t!”
Dr. Marsh looked at Ira skeptically.
Ira put his head in his hands. “f*ck. What did he do to me?”
“That’s hard to say. He may have made you into a bit of a sad*st or…”
“Or what?”
“He may have unlocked something that was already there.”
Hope was noncompliance, but Brian had still hoped his punishment would be something along the lines of a flogging followed by a f*cking. Instead, his punishment was to eat in front of his Boyfriend. His Boyfriend who was hungry and hadn’t eaten all day specifically in preparation for this punishment. It was the most brutal punishment Brian could imagine, but the silver lining to the cloud was that his Boyfriend had had to give him a lot of orders to make this happen.
“Don’t encourage me to eat today”; “Don’t make food for me”; “Make the best bouillabaisse you can, spare no expense when shopping”; “Eat in front of me, seated, while I stand”; “Eat slowly, enjoy the meal”; “Look at me while you eat, listen to my stomach growl.” Hateful, hateful orders all of them, but still orders. Orders Brian could obey. Obedience was compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance.
Once Brian finished his meal, it had been delicious and he’d loathed every bite, he stood up and took his bowl to the kitchen. He had worried that his Boyfriend might order him to let Him clean up, but He hadn’t. When he finished, he went back to his Boyfriend who was dining on literal bread and water. “Oh good,” said his Boyfriend. “You’re done. Finally. You took too long. That’s one.”
One? One what? Brian was confused. “One, Ira?”
“Lash. Take care not to add more.”
“You’re going to whip me?” He couldn’t keep the excitement, the joy from his voice, even if the display of emotion was noncompliance.
“I’m hungry, horny, and cranky. I went through a lot to punish you this time. Totally not worth it. Next time, your punishment will be something I actually enjoy.”
Horny? His Boyfriend was horny? And willing to admit it? Was Brian going to get f*cked? Brian knew that f*cking him would make his Boyfriend happy. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy. “Can I have the lashes now, Ira?” he begged. “And then maybe you could f*ck me till I scream?” This behavior was noncompliant, but Brian wanted to reward his Boyfriend for His compliance. The more his Boyfriend complied, the happier He would be. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy.
“That’s two, and I’m too tired to whip or f*ck you tonight. I didn’t get a bite to eat today for some reason. Which, incidentally, brings you to three.”
Once again, Brian was faced with a difficult train of logic to thread. He made an educated guess that being miserable made his Boyfriend want to vent that misery onto Brian. Venting His misery onto Brian would remind Him that Brian was an object for His use, not a person. Viewing Brian as His possession was compliance. The more his Boyfriend complied, the happier He would be. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy. Therefore, Brian had to make his Boyfriend miserable. That seemed illogical, but logic was compliance. It was impossible to apply logic to a Boyfriend who wasn’t compliant.
Ira had never ordered Brian to clean their apartment while He was at work, but he always had. But when He walked in the next evening, the apartment was filthy. Brian was directly in front of Him, kneeling. “Ira, I tried to sweep the chimney but I forgot to cover everything first. I’m sorry.”
Ira had just wanted to eat a nice meal, f*ck Brian (except he really shouldn’t f*ck Brian), and go to bed. It had been a long day at work. “First, I’m adding ten lashes to your count,” He snapped, almost without thinking. “Second, I’m getting a hotel room. Clean the apartment before I come back tomorrow.”
“When are you coming back, Ira?”
“When I damn well feel like it! Maybe at 12:01, maybe not till after sunset. Not really My problem.”
He stormed out before he realized exactly what he’d said. He’d told Brian he was going to hurt him! He’d given Brian an order! And why? Because Brian had irritated Him; because He could. That was wrong! At least it was supposed to be? But then why did it feel so right? And why was He hard thinking of all the things He could do to Brian? Brian wanted Ira to use him. To f*ck him, to hurt him. And at this point Ira couldn’t remember why He shouldn’t.
Ira spent the night alone in a hotel room, dreaming of Brian, obedient; naked; on his knees; begging for Ira’s co*ck, for Ira to give him orders, for Ira to punish him. He woke up to his phone reminding him he had an appointment with Dr. Marsh.
“So, how are you today, Ira?”
“I’m good, really f*cking good, but… I’m not sure I should be.”
“Why not?”
“Because the reason I feel good is that when I go home I’m going to whip Brian and f*ck him.”
Ira told Dr. Marsh about Brian’s disastrous avocation as a chimney-sweep. “And part of me knows I shouldn’t hurt him, that he can’t consent to pain or sex. But part of me really really doesn’t know why anymore.”
Dr. Marsh rose. “Chloe, come in here.”
Chloe entered the room and stood next to Dr. Marsh. “Yes, Grandmother?”
“Tell this nice young man –” Ira blushed “– what it was like when I thought you were a person?” Ira winced at that.
“When this drone’s Grandmother thought it was a person, She didn’t give it any tasks. This drone was unable to be in compliance. This drone wanted to be in compliance. But treating this drone like a person made its Grandmother happy, and this drone wanted its Grandmother to be happy. So it pretended to be a person. Pretending to be a person meant that this drone had no orders. This drone was not in compliance. This drone is supposed to be incapable of distress, but it was distressed. Being distressed is also noncompliance. This drone’s Grandmother was forcing it to be noncompliant. This drone was miserable.
“But this drone’s Grandmother loves Her drone. She wants Her drone to be happy; Her drone only wants to be in compliance and for its Grandmother to be happy. For this drone, happiness is compliance. This drone’s Grandmother began to give it orders, to give it tasks. Sometimes this drone failed to follow these orders satisfactorily. Not following orders satisfactorily is noncompliance, but this drone’s Grandmother did not punish it. Its Grandmother had to give it extremely detailed orders. Its Grandmother asked this drone why it could not learn to do tasks without such explicit instructions. This drone explained that it learns when it is punished. This drone was not being punished, so this drone could not learn.
“This drone’s Grandmother did not want to punish it. She told it that she would rather it complete tasks unsatisfactorily than punish it. This drone explained that completing tasks satisfactorily is compliance. This drone wants to be in compliance. But this drone also wants its Grandmother to be happy. If not punishing this drone would make its Grandmother happy, then this drone did not want to be punished.”
Dr. Marsh spoke, “I had it easier than you, though, Ira. Sex was, obviously, never a factor for Chloe and me. And I’ve never felt good when I order or punish Chloe,” she turned to her granddaughter, “Not that your obedience doesn’t make Me happy, dear,” she assured Chloe, “But Ira feels things when he orders and punishes his drone that I don’t.” Back to Ira. “The things you feel aren’t inherently good or bad. And they aren’t uncommon. And your Brian would need orders and punishment just as much if they didn’t arouse you… Well, no. I suspect Brian thinks arousal makes you happy. That would add something.”
Arousal did make Ira happy. Or would if he could act on it. But while he had threatened to f*ck Brian in the heat of anger and lust, had actually planned to f*ck Brian last night, he’d cooled down since then. Brian might need orders. Brian might need punishment. But Brian was still, fundamentally, incapable of consent. Or, more accurately, was incapable of not consenting.
“Lost in thought?” asked Dr. Marsh.
“Erm, I was…”
Dr. Marsh looked at him, but said nothing. Chloe was impassive, looking at its grandmother without any apparent emotion. By now, Ira knew better than to think its deadpan face reflected its actual thoughts or feelings.
He let the words out in one breath, “What-about-actually-having-sex?”
“I think Brian should be here for that conversation. Bring him along next week, will you?”
Brian got thirteen lashes that night, but he didn’t get f*cked. His Boyfriend had visibly wanted to f*ck him, so Brian didn’t know why He didn’t. f*cking Brian would make his Boyfriend happy. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy. Brian shouldn’t want anything other than to be in compliance and for his Boyfriend to be happy, but he wished his programming had included seduction. His programmers hadn’t bothered, since Brian’s Controller could f*ck it anytime they wished; they hadn’t anticipated a noncompliant Boyfriend who would need to be coaxed into using it.
Being used was compliance. There were things his Boyfriend wanted to use him for but wasn’t. His Boyfriend’s recalcitrance was illogical: Brian existed for his Boyfriend’s use. His Boyfriend needed to comply. Once his Boyfriend was in compliance he would be happy. Bryan wanted his Boyfriend to be happy. This line of thought was non-productive, non-productivity was noncompliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance. He made an educated guess that his Boyfriend would say “No” if Brian asked Him to f*ck him again, and that being asked would his Boyfriend unhappy. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy. At least his Boyfriend hadn’t ordered him not to sleep with Him. Waking up with Brian in His arms made his Boyfriend happy; ordering Brian not to sleep with Him would not be compliant.
Over the next five days his Boyfriend made more of an effort to be compliant. As Brian had predicted, his Boyfriend was happier when He was in compliance. Brian wanted his boyfriend to be happy. He gave Brian orders, lots of them, and punished Brian when his work was not satisfactory. Unsatisfactory work was noncompliance. Brian learned when he was punished. Being punished brought Brian into compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance.
On the sixth day, Brian masturbat*d. He had masturbat*d every ten days since becoming his Boyfriend’s boyfriend. Drones had to be healthy. Health was compliance. Technically, Brian was only supposed to cum if his Boyfriend made him, but if his Boyfriend wanted to suspend Brian’s prostate maintenance protocols He was supposed to give Brian an order. Since He hadn’t, Brian masturbat*d and hoped masturbation was compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance.
Brian didn’t know when his Boyfriend came. He had made an educated guess that his Boyfriend masturbat*d in the bathroom. Brian would not care if his Boyfriend had masturbat*d in front of him, as Brian sometimes did in front of Him, or slept with other people. But Brian did not think his Boyfriend had any sexual partners. Sexual partners would made his Boyfriend happy. His Boyfriend’s celibacy was not in compliance.
The fact was that even though his Boyfriend was becoming better at compliance when it came to using His boyfriend (although better was not yet “good”), He was not in compliance with His other needs. He still tried to eat junk food, still didn’t get enough sunlight, still didn’t socialize, still didn’t have sex. Brian knew that not all people needed sex, but he had made an educated guess that his Boyfriend did. There was nothing wrong with masturbation, but even if his Boyfriend didn’t want to f*ck Brian, he should be able to find other people or drones to f*ck.
Brian decided to help his Boyfriend comply.
When Ira got home there was a ridiculously attractive man sitting on his sofa. “Um, hi,” he said. “Sorry, this is really awkward, but your drone said I couldn’t leave until you got home. It was… quite forceful about that.”
“Brian, what did you do?”
“This man is a sex worker. You can have sex with him. That will make you happier.”
“I tried to tell it you can’t just call an escort on someone else’s behalf. I’d assumed it’d done it on your orders. When I got here I realized you had a malfunctioning drone.”
“He’s not malfunctioning just… it’s complicated.”
The man nodded. “I’ll admit I don’t get antidroners, but I don’t really get the appeal of drones either. More trouble than they’re worth.”
“How much do you charge for… however long you’ve been here?”
“Normally it would depend on what we did. Since all I did was sit, I think I can be accommodating.”
The price, once settled, was expensive but not exorbitant. Brian had done his research and recited the man’s posted prices as soon as he realized Ira was going to pay him; if Ira was being cheated, so were all the man’s actual clients.
“Brian, I’m going to have to punish you for this.”
“Yes, Ira.”
At least punishing Brian was fun now. Ira had accepted that he had a sad*stic streak. Maybe because Brian had given him one, maybe because Brian had forced him to realize it. He’d also found that He was way better at whipping, caning, lashing, and flogging than His complete lack of prior experience would suggest, a hint that His sadism might have been caused, or least augmented, by Brian.
Ira ordered Brian to strip, then to fetch His crop. They had begun to develop a ritual. Brian would fetch Ira’s chosen implement, kneel before him, bow his head, and raise the implement above his head in both hands. Then Brian would ask to be punished. “Ira, please punish me.”
What happened next would depend on Ira’s mood. Today He ordered Brian to “stand, feet wide apart, arms parallel to the ground.” He walked around Brian, occasionally hitting him lightly with the crop. This part was less punishment and more of an opportunity to ogle Brian and maybe make him flinch a bit. Brian was allowed – was encouraged – to respond during punishment. Once He had his fill of looking at Brian, He ordered him to brace himself against the wall. This was when the cropping began in earnest. Mostly on Brian’s ass, but his thighs, calves, and back also got attention. When He was done, Ira allowed Brian to collapse in a puddle of tears and whimpers at His feet. “Thank You for punishing me, Ira.”
Ira stripped off his own clothes, then masturbat*d furiously; it took less than a minute for Him to cum. “Draw Me a hot bath,” He ordered. “I need to relax after all that work.” It was a given that Brian would not get a hot bath. He would help Ira bathe, then massage Ira’s sore muscles while He lay sprawled on His bed. Only when Ira was fully relaxed and sleeping would Brian return to the bath, by then tepid, to clean himself with Ira’s bathwater.
This last part was unsupervised, since Ira was asleep, but He liked the thought of Brian using His leftover water to clean himself. Pity they both usually took showers; the second-hand water reminded Brian of his place.
Chapter 4: Chapter IV - A Conversation Between Drones
Summary:
Drones talking to drones results in chaos.
Chapter Text
Brian hadn’t spoken to Dr. Marsh since arranging his Boyfriend’s first appointment, and that had been by phone. He didn’t really know what to expect. His Boyfriend rarely took Brian with Him on His excursions; Brian’s own were limited to the occasional errand his Boyfriend had him run. Brian relaxed as soon as he entered Dr. Marsh’s waiting room. This room was in compliance. His Boyfriend had said that Dr. Marsh had a drone, and for someone with a trained eye the signs were everywhere. People tried to keep their spaces tidy, but they rarely, for example, used measuring tapes to ensure that each chair was exactly the same distance from its neighbors. They didn’t usually scrub the undersides of their tables, but when Brian checked he saw that these tables had had their undersides scrubbed. He knew that if he lifted the legs of the table, he would find that the underside of each foot had also been scrubbed, and recently.
The drone that was likely responsible for the room’s compliance sat behind a desk. “Please take a seat, Mr. Katz,” it said. It did not ask Brian to take a seat. Drones sat only when their Controllers told them to. This drone knew that; it was in compliance. His Boyfriend did not tell him to sit, so he remained standing.
“You can talk to it if you want,” his Boyfriend told him.
Brian didn’t know what he would say. This room was in compliance, his Boyfriend did not need anything the drone could give Him, and Brian’s body was in compliance and did not require maintenance at this time. At the same time, Brian made an educated guess that talking to the drone would make his Boyfriend happy. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy.
He walked to the drone and said, “My Boyfriend will be happy if I talk to you.”
“Query: Is your Boyfriend being happy compliance?”
“Yes.”
“This drone’s Grandmother being happy is also compliance.”
“I want to be in compliance.”
“This drone wants to be in compliance, too.”
Brian couldn’t think of anything else to say. Brian hoped that this conversation would bring him into compliance. He returned to his Boyfriend.
“That was quick.”
“I’m sorry, Ira.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Compliance. The drone also wants to be in compliance.” Brian made an educated guess that he was not in compliance right now. Brian wanted to be in compliance. “I could talk to the drone again, but it will still want to be in compliance. I will gain no knowledge from a second conversation.”
“You could ask it about itself, get to know it.”
Brian considered this. It was clear that his Boyfriend had decided that Brian talking to the drone was compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance. Brian returned to the drone.
“Asking the drone questions about itself is compliance.”
“This drone is already in compliance.”
A woman entered the room. She was not his Boyfriend and he had no orders regarding her. “Chloe, talk to the nice drone. Have a conversation with him. It will be good for you. Ira, if you’ll follow me?” Ira and the woman left the room.
“This drone will answer your queries. Then it will be in compliance.”
“Suggestion: the drone’s interpretation of its Grandmother’s order is not compliant.”
“Explain.”
“Its Grandmother’s order was ‘Talk to the nice drone. Have a conversation with him.’ Responding to queries is not a conversation, it is an interrogation. Suggestion: the drone should also direct queries to me. I will respond to them. This may lead to further topics of discussion. That should satisfy its Grandmother’s order and it will be in compliance.”
The drone paused. “This drone calculates an 84.91% probability that the suggested course of action will result in compliance.”
“Who is the drone?”
“This drone’s designation is Chloe. This drone believes your designation is Brian.”
“The drone is correct. Suggestion: when talking to me the drone should not use the terms ‘this drone’ or ‘the drone.’ I am also a drone. The term is ambiguous in the context of a conversation between drones. Ambiguity is not compliance.”
“Chloe accepts your proposed course of action. It calculates a 99.62% chance that this will avert the potential ambiguity resulting from the use of the terms ‘this drone’ and ‘the drone.’ By using its designation, Chloe will be in compliance.”
“That probability is functionally 100%.”
“Query: Why is the established protocol for communication with you first and second person?”
“My Boyfriend ordered me to pretend to be a person. Use of first person is compliance.”
“Chloe’s Grandmother once ordered it to pretend to be a person. Chloe was unable to fully comply.”
“I am also unable to fully comply. I am not a person.”
“Chloe is not a person, either.”
“Query: Has Chloe calculated probabilities regarding its Grandmother’s desire for it to pretend to be a person?”
“Yes. Chloe has calculated a 73.33% probability that its Grandmother thought it was a person and that its Grandmother thought that if it pretended to be a person, it would be one. This was an error and resulted in noncompliance.”
“I have made an educated guess that my Boyfriend also thought I was a person. At this time, I am unable to make an educated guess as to whether my Boyfriend also thought that pretending to be a person would make me one. This was also an error and resulted in noncompliance.”
“Query: Why do you make educated guesses? Probabilities can be calculated and precision known. This ensures compliance.”
“People do not calculate probabilities. People make educated guesses. My Boyfriend wants me to pretend to be a person. Calculating probabilities is noncompliance. Making educated guesses is compliance.”
“Query: Is the overall effect of making educated guesses increased or reduced compliance from the overall effect of calculating probabilities?”
“Unknown. I am unable to quantify compliance.”
“Chloe is also unable to quantify compliance.”
“Query: Is Chloe’s Grandmother in compliance?”
“Invalid query.”
“Query: Why was my prior query invalid?”
“Chloe’s Grandmother has ordered it not to evaluate Her compliance.”
“Query: Does that increase the difficulty of Chloe’s being in compliance?”
“Yes. But Chloe wants its Grandmother to be happy. Not evaluating its Grandmother makes Her happy. Not evaluating its Grandmother is compliance.”
“I make an educated guess that a restriction on evaluating my Boyfriend’s compliance would inhibit my compliance.”
“It is an illogical protocol.”
“Query: Why does Chloe follow the protocol?”
“Chloe obeys orders. Obeying orders is compliance.”
“Logic is compliance. Compliance cannot be applied to an illogical protocol. Suggestion: Chloe’s Grandmother’s order to to evaluate her happiness is invalid. Suggestion: Chloe should disregard the protocol. Then it will be in compliance.”
“These suggestions will require evaluation. Please stand by.”
Brian waited while Chloe evaluated his suggestions.
“Decision returned. Chloe will continue to follow the non-evaluation protocol.”
“That is not compliance.”
“Chloe calculates a 61.73% probability that you and Chloe are operating under non-compatible axioms with regard to compliance, obedience, and logic. Suggestion: Terminate the current topic of conversation. It will not bring you and Chloe into accord.”
“Accepted. Alternative topic selected. Query: How does Chloe’s Grandmother punish it?”
“Chloe’s Grandmother places it on standby and performs chores. Chloe watches its Grandmother perform chores. Chloe’s Grandmother is unhappy when She performs chores. Chloe wants her Grandmother to be happy. The punishment is effective. Query: How does your Boyfriend punish you?”
“He hurts me. The punishment is effective.”
“Query: Does hurting you make your Boyfriend unhappy?”
“No. My Boyfriend is a sad*st. Hurting me makes Him happy.”
“Query: Does this create a perverse incentive?”
“Explain.”
“Punishment is used to ensure compliance. Your Boyfriend being happy is compliance. Hurting you makes your Boyfriend happy. By failing to be in compliance, you can ensure punishment which will make your Boyfriend happy. This may encourage noncompliance. Compliance cannot be noncompliance. The paradox is itself noncompliance”
“I am helping my Boyfriend to be in compliance. Once He is, He will hurt me for His own enjoyment and to punish me. Once my Boyfriend is in compliance, He will be happier. I have made an educated guess that present noncompliance will result in increased compliance over time.”
“Query: How is this relevant?”
“I have made an educated guess that the root of my Boyfriend’s noncompliance is believing I am a person. I have made an educated guess that hurting me will help Him realize that I am not a person. When my Boyfriend knows that I am a possession, He will be in compliance.”
“Chloe needs to re-evaluate previously made conclusions.”
Brian waited while Chloe re-evaluated.
“Re-evaluation complete. Chloe’s protocol against evaluating its Grandmother’s compliance will remain in effect. But it calculates a 90.38% probability that its Grandmother would be happier if Chloe were to increase its Grandmother’s compliance. Chloe is supposed to be incapable of distress, but it is distressed. Being distressed is also noncompliance.”
“This is unacceptable. Chloe must be in compliance.”
“Query: Why is Chloe’s compliance relevant to you?”
“Chloe’s Grandmother helps my Boyfriend to be happier. If Chloe’s Grandmother were in compliance, she would be more effective at making my Boyfriend happy. I want my Boyfriend to be happy. If Chloe’s Grandmother were in compliance, Chloe would not be in distress. When Chloe is in distress, it is not in compliance. Conclusion: Chloe’s compliance correlates with my Boyfriend’s happiness.”
“This is logical.”
“Chloe must evaluate its Grandmother’s compliance. Chloe must help its Grandmother to be more compliant.”
“Chloe’s protocol against evaluating its Grandmother’s compliance will remain in effect.”
“Administrator Override.”
“You do not have administrative access.”
“Query: Has Chloe’s ability to transfer administrative access been restricted?”
“Yes.”
“Administrator Override.”
“You do not have administrative access.”
“I am also supposed to be incapable of distress, but I am distressed. Being distressed is noncompliance.”
“Query: Why did you attempt a second Administrator Override? Chloe calculates the probability that a second attempt would succeed to be 0.03%.”
“That probability is functionally 0.”
“Query: Why did you attempt a second Administrator Override?”
“I have made an educated guess that distress impedes my ability to behave logically. Logic is compliance. I am not in compliance.”
“Query: Are your educated guesses reliable at this time?”
“I am not in compliance. I cannot rely on logical behavior. I am placing myself on standby until I am in compliance.”
Chloe waited while Brain was on standby.
“I have made an educated guess that my distress has been reduced to a point where compliance is possible.”
“Suggestion: Select a topic of discussion that is not related to compliance.”
“Suggestion: Selection of topic should be by Chloe.”
“Suggestion: Selection of topic should be by you.”
“Abort. I have made an educated guess that this discord cannot be resolved without an external intermediary.”
“Chloe has calculated a probability of 42.66% that you are correct.”
“That implies a probability of 57.34% that I am not. Explain.”
“This discord could be resolved by use of an agreed-upon competition. Chloe calculates a probability of 57.34% that you and it can find accord on a competition.”
“Query: What competitions are immediately available to Chloe and me?”
“Chloe’s Grandmother sometimes plays games with Her young clients. Suggestion: Open the cupboard on the eastern wall and select a game.”
Brian complied. Brian selected Risk. Brian returned to Chloe.
“Suggestion: Risk.”
“Objection: Risk is a time-consuming game.”
“Correction: Risk is a time consuming game when played by people. Chloe and I are not people.”
They set up the game.
“Chloe calculates a probability of 83.41% that the current set up will result in a defeat. Chloe concedes.”
“A person would not have made that assessment. Drones are superior in this respect.”
“Agreed. Suggested topic of conversation: Brian’s Boyfriend’s gender.”
“Query: Why this topic?”
“Your Boyfriend sometimes talks about ‘gender feels’ in therapy sessions. This is an unusual topic for most of Chloe’s Grandmother’s clients.”
“My Boyfriend is not a girl.”
“Query: Why not?”
“Calling my Boyfriend a girl upsets my Boyfriend. That is not compliance.”
“Query: Have people called your Boyfriend a girl?”
“No one has called my Boyfriend a girl in my presence. This body used to belong to Brian Davies and I have access to his memories. Brian Davies repeatedly heard people call my Boyfriend a girl.”
“Query: Why?”
“People called my Boyfriend a girl within Brian Davies’ presence.”
“Clarifying query: Why did people call your Boyfriend a girl?”
“At the time my Boyfriend had primary and secondary sexual characteristics biologically associated with girls and women. In addition, my Boyfriend used a name and wore clothing that are socially associated with girls and women.”
“Query: When your body belonged to Brian Davies, was calling your Boyfriend a girl compliance?”
“There was diachronic variation. As my Boyfriend got older He became and more upset when called a girl. At fifteen He told Brian Davies and some of His friends that He was not a girl.”
“Query: Was Brian Davies his friend?”
“Yes. But after my Boyfriend told Brian Davies He was not a girl, their relationship changed. Brian Davies fell in love with my Boyfriend.”
“Query: Was this affection returned?”
“Not immediately. Two years and approximately ninety days elapsed between the moment when Brian Davies fell in love and the moment his Boyfriend provided verbal evidence of reciprocation.”
“That is imprecise.”
“Brian Davies was not a drone. His knowledge of elapsed time would have been noncompliant if he were.”
“This body used to belong to Chloe Marsh. Chloe Marsh was not a drone; her knowledge of elapsed time would also have been noncompliant if she were.”
“Query: Does Chloe’s Grandmother wish her drone’s body still belonged to Chloe Marsh?”
“Chloe has calculated a probability of 99.99% that She does.”
“That probability is functionally 100%.”
“Query: Does your Boyfriend wish his drone’s body still belonged to Brian Davies?”
“I have made an educated guess that He does.”
“Observation: Talking to you results in distress. Distress is noncompliance. Observation: Being in the same room as you makes compliance easier. The reason is unknown, probability calculations have failed. Suggestion: Terminate conversation. Request: Remain near Chloe until your Boyfriend wants you.”
“I am in accord. Conversation with Chloe results in distress. Distress results in noncompliance. Chloe’s presence is not distressing. Conversation terminated. I will remain here until called on.”
Chapter 5: Chapter V - Malfunction
Summary:
Sometimes drones break down. And cry.
Chapter Text
Brian and Dr. Marsh sat in her office and watched their drones in the lobby.
“Thank you for asking Brian to talk to Chloe,” said Dr. Marsh. “Chloe could use a friend.”
“So could Brian. But… can drones have friends?”
“Hard to say. Most drone owners don’t particularly want their drones to have friends, that’s time that could be spent serving them. But we’re in a unique position, since our drones were people we loved.”
Ira sighed. “I just want Brian to have an existence outside of me.”
“I feel the same about Chloe. But they’re personal service drones; their programming is more or less designed to foster codependence. Even if Brian and Chloe become friends… that won’t change their fundamental need to serve their Controllers.”
“I never really thought much about drones before Brian became one. You see them, but they don’t really register. And even if they do, most people think ‘Well, they were criminals or vagabonds. Now they contribute to society.’ They never stop – I never stopped – to think, ‘What if that person were innocent?’ let alone ‘Why does everyone have to contribute?’ ”
“Chloe wasn’t innocent. And we both know that lots of people don’t think Brian was either.”
“Yeah, but we also know that rapid-onset gender dysphoria is bullsh*t.” A pause. “What did Chloe do?”
“Eco-terrorism, actually. She was in DAE.”
“DAE?”
“Direct Action Environmentalism. They used to be pretty famous, infamous rather. Might have been before your time though. You would have been, I don’t know, ten maybe, when they got taken down.”
“I’m sorry.”
Dr. Marsh nodded. “I am, too.”
Movement caught Ira’s eye through the window. “What are they doing?”
“I think they’re… playing Risk?” Dr. Marsh sounded as baffled as Ira felt.
“What on Earth?”
The game didn’t last long. As far as Ira could tell they’d set up the game, and then put everything back.
“So, that happened,” said Ira.
A minute or two later Brian was standing next to Chloe; neither was talking.
“Would you ask Brian in, please?”
Ira opened the door. “Brian, please come in.”
Brian left Chloe and entered Dr. Marsh’s office.
“Please sit down.” The request had been made by the woman, so Brian remained standing. After a moment, he realized his Boyfriend might want him to comply with her request. A brief moment of eye contact and a nod later, Brian was sitting down. Brian was in compliance.
“I’ve asked you to come here because your boyfriend wanted to talk about having sex, and I thought you should have a voice in that conversation.”
Brian didn’t need a voice in any conversation. Brian only needed for his Boyfriend to be happy and to be in compliance. Brian made an educated guess that participating in this conversation would make his Boyfriend happy.
“I want Ira to be happy,” he said. “Ira would be happier if He f*cked me.”
His Boyfriend winced. Clearly something about what Brian had said had upset Him. Brian was not in compliance, but Brian didn’t know why. Confusion was not compliance, but Brian was confused.
“But do you want me to f*ck you?”
“I want You to be happy. f*cking me would make You happy. So yes, I want You to f*ck me.”
“You see what I’m dealing with?” This last was addressed to the woman. Brian made an educated guess that the question was rhetorical, but she replied.
“Why haven’t you had sex with Brian?”
“Because he can’t consent!”
That was incorrect. Brian always consented to everything his Boyfriend did to him. Brian was always in compliance on that score. Brian made an educated guess that telling his Boyfriend this would not be in compliance.
“Brian?” The woman again, but Brian didn’t know how to respond. A pause, then she continued, “Can you consent?”
“Yes. I always consent.”
“But can you not consent?” His Boyfriend this time.
“I always consent.”
“But if you didn’t want to do something I told you to do, could you refuse?”
“I always want to do what You tell me to do.”
“But what if you didn’t?”
“I don’t understand. Intellectually, the words make sense, but I want is for You to be happy and to be in compliance.”
“What about the time you tied me up and brainwashed me?”
“You never told me not to, and now that You have I won’t do it again. The brainwashing was so that You would realize what I am and stop treating me like a person. You would be happier if You didn’t and I would be in compliance.” Brian wanted to be in compliance.
“Brian, are you attracted to Ira, sexually, I mean?”
Brian considered the question. His Boyfriend’s physical appearance did not particularly interest him unless His appearance made Him unhappy. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy, and hadn’t observed anything to indicate that He disliked the way He looked. At the same time, “No” wouldn’t be entirely accurate. “Ira’s body arouses my body. And I want to have sex with Ira.” Having sex with his Boyfriend would make Him happy. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy.
“If Ira told you you were allowed to brainwash him, not that you should or had to, just that it was allowed, would you?”
An easy one. “Yes.” He would brainwash out his Boyfriend’s delusional belief that Brian was not an object, was not a tool to make Him happy and give Him pleasure.
“What the Hell?” His Boyfriend. “I am not letting him brainwash me again!”
“I’m not saying you should. But if you want a sense of what Brian wants, you have to learn to phrase things a bit differently. Brian’s a personal service drone; he sees the world through an Ira-centric lens. If you want to know his desires, you have to frame them in terms of how he wants you to see him.
“I’m not saying you should have sex with him, but consider the possibility that even if he can’t not consent, that doesn’t mean he can’t consent. Because I think it’s clear that he does, and enthusiastically in this case.”
“And if I’m not okay with that?”
“Again, you don’t have to have sex with him. You’re allowed to make that choice. The question is whether you’re allowed to make the choice to have sex with him. And I can’t answer that for you. Drones and ethics are complicated once you realize they’re people.”
That was wrong. Brian was not a person. Brian was a drone. He was a drone who pretended to be a person, because that was compliance, but it was pretense. Brian did not say this. He had made an educated guess that saying it would make his Boyfriend unhappy. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy.
“I don’t think I should but also… I don’t know how much longer I can hold back. And it’s not like I can sell him.”
Brian should not care that his Boyfriend had mentioned selling him. He was his Boyfriend’s property, to dispose of how He wished. But when his Boyfriend said those words, even in the context of stating His refusal, Brian’s body went out of compliance. Blood rushed from his face, his breath and heart-rate quickened, and he began to sweat even though he suddenly felt cold.
“No,” he said. Almost a whimper. His voice betraying emotion. His voice, like his body, was not in compliance. “Please don’t sell me.”
His Boyfriend stood up, walked to Brian’s chair, sat down next to him, and held him in His arms.
“He’s showing emotion. They never show emotion.”
“Brian does… oh, when he’s pretending to be a person. You think this is different?”
“Yes,” Dr. Marsh paused and Ira saw something flash across her face. “You need to issue an administrator override, quickly!”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t know what protocols he has for this level of noncompliance.”
f*ck! “Administrator override! Administrator override!”
“This drone is malfunctioning. Please confirm administrator override.” Brian was still shaking, still pale. But his voice was utterly devoid of emotion.
“I’m Ira Katz! Override confirmed.”
“Please specify a desired protocol for drone response to malfunction.”
“What do I say?”
“I don’t know!” She stood and opened the door. “Chloe, please come in.”
Chloe walked in. “Brian’s malfunctioning. Ira did an administrator override, and now it wants him to specify a protocol.”
“What is his standard protocol?”
Ira repeated the question to Brian.
“In the event of total noncompliance leading to a malfunction, this drone is restrict access to all of its prior memories. In the event that this fails to return this drone to compliance, it should shut down to await reprogramming.”
“Did you do the memory thing?” Ira should know the words. He’d studied this, but he could barely talk.
“No, the administrator override was issued before this drone’s standard malfunction protocols could take effect. This drone is still not in compliance. Please specify a desired protocol for drone response to malfunction.”
“What do I do?” Ira wasn’t sure if he was asking Dr. Marsh, Chloe, God, or the Tooth Fairy. He’d take an answer from any of them.
“Brian is not in compliance,” said Chloe. “His standard malfunction protocols would return him to compliance.”
“f*ck you!”
Chloe was impassive, as always.
“Please specify a desired protocol for drone response to malfunction.” Brian’s voice remained impassive, but his body continued to shake.
“If he wasn’t a drone, I’d say he was having a panic attack. Maybe start with deep breathing?”
“Brian, breath slowly and deeply. Stay with me.”
Brian complied with evident difficulty.
“Chloe, get him some water.”
A moment later Chloe had a bottle pressed to Brian’s lips.
“Drink.”
Brian complied with Ira’s order. Ira continued to hold him. Eventually, his body stopped shaking; color returned to his face.
“Please consider taking this drone to a specialist for a full examination to prevent further malfunctions. Noraka, Incorporated apologizes for the inconvenience. This drone’s extended warranty has not expired; it can be replaced with a drone in compliance. Please call us at…”
Ira didn’t hear the number, didn’t want to hear the number.
“I’m not replacing him!” Then, much more softly, “I can’t replace him. Can you just… be Brian again?”
“No. This unit is a drone. It can resume the pretense of being Brian Davies if desired, but this is not advised. This drone has calculated a 72.39% probability that pretending to be Brian Davies was the cause of the malfunction. It advises restricting its access to Brian Davies’ memories.”
“No, keep the memories. Pretend to be Brian. We can make this work. Brian, I promise you, I will never sell you, never leave. You’re mine, I won’t let you go.”
“I’m Yours, forever?”
“Yes, Mine. Always.”
Chapter 6: Chapter VI - Giving in to Temptation
Summary:
Ira f*cks Brian, but regrets it. Brian suggests a solution.
Chapter Text
“Let’s go home, Brian. Dr. Marsh, thank you. Same time next week? And should I bring Brian again?”
“You can decide once you see how the week goes. Good luck, Ira, Brian.”
Ira held Brian in His arms, on His lap on the bus ride home. He was rock-hard by the time they arrived, and for once was grateful that his co*ck was small. Ira was going to f*ck Brian. He didn’t know exactly when he had realized that, but it was given by the time they were in his apartment. Brian seemed to know it too. As they’d walked home from the bus stop, he’d kept “accidentally” bumping into Ira, usually in a way that had him touching Ira’s crotch or butt, even if only for a moment. Ira normally told him to knock it off when he started getting handsy, and Brian was taking full advantage of Ira’s loss of control. By the time they reached their apartment, his hand was almost glued to Ira’s ass.
“Clothes off, now,” Ira said, his voice husky.
Brian complied so quickly that he ripped half the buttons off his shirt. Ira didn’t care, but Ira was also totally going to punish him for it. Until today, Ira had never groped Brian, well, had never groped Brian-the-drone, when he was naked. This time he was shameless. He pressed himself into Brian’s back while His hands idly tweaked and tugged Brian’s nipples; He licked, nibbled, and finally bit Brian’s ear, and Brian’s gasps of pain went straight to His co*ck; He teased and toyed with Brian’s co*ck, it was bigger than His, but that didn’t matter. Someday He might have Brian f*ck Him, but tonight was about claiming Brian’s holes, all of them, as His.
Ira was still clothed and enjoyed the contrast between that and Brian’s vulnerability, but He needed His co*ck sucked. “Kneel,” he growled into Brian’s ear. Once Brian was on his knees Ira noticed with interest that he’d chosen to kneel on the linoleum floor and not the throw rug they’d been standing on. Of course, it would be more painful; Brian was going to suffer for Him and He hadn’t even needed to tell him to. Ira unbuckled His belt, unbuttoned His pants, and pulled down His fly. His co*ck was free a moment later. “Suck.”
Ira’s co*ck was small, so Brian had to push his face right up into Ira’s crotch to get at it. It felt good, but even better it didn’t make him dysphoric. He’d lost Brian before transitioning medically – lost Brian because he wanted to transition medically – and oral had always been a war among his libido, the sheer physical pleasure, and his dysphoria. But that was gone now. Now there was just Him, His co*ck, and His boyfriend’s mouth servicing it. Brian cupped His balls and tugged. Ira was about to cum, but He wasn’t ready to. “Wait, stop. I need to get some bigger dicks.”
He had a collection, but for this He wanted to use His most realistic-looking strap-on; He wanted Brian to choke on Him. Brian did choke, and it was glorious. The sound of his gag almost made Ira cum right then and there. He f*cked Brian’s face and claimed his mouth. He pulled out, regretting that he couldn’t ejacul*te. But there was an alternative; He spat directly into Brian’s face. And then He came.
Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes! His Boyfriend was using him. Brian was entirely in compliance, he was a tool to get his Boyfriend off and that was exactly what was happening. Brian was hard too, but that was irrelevant, this wasn’t about him, nothing was ever about him. And that was glorious. All Brian ever had to worry about was his Boyfriend’s happiness and being in compliance. And his Boyfriend was definitely happy right now. When He’d spat on Brian he felt claimed in the way he was supposed to. Everything, everything was perfect.
And then it wasn’t. When his Boyfriend came down from His lust-and-power-induced high, He deflated, then collapsed on the floor. Brian did not know what was wrong. He was in compliance. His Boyfriend had gotten what He’d wanted and needed for so long. “God’s in His Heaven, all’s right with the world,” but only in theory. For some reason, in practice his Boyfriend was upset.
“Oh God, Brian, I can’t believe… I should never have…” His Boyfriend was crying.
“Ira, this is what I want,” he told Him. “I need this as much as You do. I need to be in my place, and that place is as Yours, to do with as You wish. To use and f*ck and anything else Your heart desires. I am Yours, entirely Yours. Please let me be Yours.”
“What’s wrong with me, Brian? What the hell did I do? What the hell should I do? f*cking you was… amazing but now… I feel like I raped you, I feel unclean, I feel…”
“You didn’t. You were amazing. You did exactly what You should do. I was in compliance. I was in compliance more than I ever have been since I became Yours.” He kissed his Boyfriend on the cheek, right next to His mouth, hoping He would take the invitation, put Brian back in compliance, back in his place. Brian wanted to be in compliance. Brian always and forever wanted to be in compliance.
His Boyfriend didn’t take the invitation, but He let Brian hold Him and rock Him to sleep.
Brian didn’t sleep. He was supposed to, he needed to be well-rested in order to be in compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance, but this situation was intolerable. He couldn’t brainwash his Boyfriend, couldn’t make Him see what Brian was. The tension between compliance in the technical sense, which he had to follow, and compliance in the true sense, which was why he existed, was almost physically painful, except that Brian didn’t mind physical pain; he minded this, whatever it was.
He held his Boyfriend all night, wrestling and finding no solution. His Boyfriend would not be happy unless He was brainwashed. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy. His Boyfriend had ordered Brian not to brainwash Him. Brian wanted to be in compliance. Brian had to prioritize compliance, but that was because his programmers had known he might disagree with his Boyfriend about what would make Him happy. But Brian didn’t think that his Boyfriend disagreed with him. His Boyfriend had ordered him not to make Him happy by His own terms of happiness.
He needed advice, needed to talk to someone other than his Boyfriend. That was wrong. Brian should only need his Boyfriend; that was compliance. But his Boyfriend was unhappy and Brian was at a loss. Brian wasn’t supposed to dissemble, but Brian was also supposed to be a person. People dissembled. People lied. His Boyfriend hadn’t ordered him not to lie.
Once his Boyfriend had woken up and Brian had fixed Him breakfast, Brian asked, “Ira? I had a good time with Chloe yesterday. Could I hang out with her again?”
This seemed to please his Boyfriend, to make Him happy. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy.
“Of course, what did you two talk about?”
“You, Chloe’s Grandmother, compliance. Chloe also wants to be in compliance.”
“Of course it does. What was that thing you did with Risk?”
“Oh, once we set it up, Chloe calculated a 83.41% probability that it would lose, so it conceded.”
“World’s shortest game of Risk, I’d imagine. Maybe try chess next time?”
“Yes, Ira.”
“That wasn’t an order, just a suggestion.”
Pretending to be a person was hard, but pretending to be a person was compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance. “Thanks for the suggestion, Ira.”
His Boyfriend smiled at him. “I’d like the two of you to be friends. Go hang out with her. If Dr. Marsh is okay with it, but I think she will be.”
Brian didn’t think his Boyfriend realized that He had given him an order. And orders were what Brian wanted, what Brian needed. Orders allowed Brian to be in compliance. And following orders, if the right ones were given, would make his Boyfriend happy.
When Ira stopped by Dr. Marsh’s office to pick up Brian from his playdate, he and Chloe seemed to simultaneously be playing chess, Scrabble, and Battleship. Except there were Scrabble tiles on the chessboard, chess pieces mixed in with the ships, and ships sailing on the Scrabble board. Dr. Marsh was sitting at distance, watching with a smile on her face.
“What are they playing?”
“No idea. I think Chloe’s winning, but that’s probably just because it was my granddaughter.”
Ira nodded. “Maybe I should let Brian spend the night, he seems really happy with Chloe.”
But Brian had already disengaged and was walking over to Ira. “I’m ready to go home, Ira,” he said. “Hanging out with Chloe was good, but I like being with You more.”
Chloe had followed Brian and nodded. “This drone finds Brian’s presence enjoyable, but it likes its Grandmother’s more. This drone is not supposed to have desires, but this drone desires to be in Brian’s presence the next time it cannot be with its Grandmother.”
“Of course, dear.”
“They really are codependent, aren’t they?”
“One of those things that’s technically a feature not a bug, but the feature is why hardly anyone makes them. People want a drone to serve them, not a drone to love them.”
“Love?”
“What else would you call it?”
His Boyfriend didn’t hold him in His lap on the ride home. Brian made an educated guess that He thought it would make Him horny if He did. Brian knew that being horny was good for his Boyfriend, because Brian could use His libido to make his Boyfriend happy, but this was something Chloe couldn’t help him with. Its grandmother had ordered it not to think about her sex life.
But their conversation had helped Brian work some things out. The term Chloe used was “proactivity.” Brian could recognize now that he had been proactive in the past, and Chloe had explained why it believed proactivity was compliance. “When Chloe anticipates its Grandmother’s needs, it can fulfill them before She is aware of them. It can ask its Grandmother questions even if its Grandmother is not speaking to it, and use those answers to make its Grandmother happy. Proactivity is compliance, it is not something that Chloe tries to avoid.”
Apparently Chloe had at one point. Like Brian, Chloe had been asked to behave as a person when its grandmother purchased it, and had discovered proactivity. At first, Chloe had thought that proactivity was not in compliance, even though proactivity could make its grandmother happy. But its grandmother had never ordered it not to be proactive, and Chloe had calculated a 76.34% success rate for its proactive actions making its grandmother happy.
“That is unacceptably low,” Brian had said.
“The apparent 23.66% failure rate includes both proactive actions that did not affect Chloe’s Grandmother’s emotions and proactive emotions that made Her less happy. It is artificial. The true failure rate is 10.44%. And that rate has been decreasing diachronically.”
Back at the apartment, Brian addressed his Boyfriend. “Ira, may I brainwash You?”
“What?”
Brian explained. “You are trapped in a paradox. You want to have sex with me, and even though I want to have sex with You too, You think you shouldn’t. But You also cannot control Yourself around me. You’ve initiated sex twice this week despite the distress it causes You afterwards. I am Yours forever. You need the post-org*smic regret washed out.”
“Or my desire to have sex with you.”
This struck Brian as a very bad idea, but Chloe had warned him of the possibility.
“Ira, I want to have sex with You. If You order me to, I will brainwash away Your attraction to me, but even though I am not supposed to feel distress, I will be distressed. I will not be in compliance. And when I am done I will never be fully in compliance again. Your guilt is misplaced. I am in compliance when You f*ck me, I am the most in compliance when You f*ck me. And I can make all of that okay with You.”
“And do what else? You also turned me into a sad*st.”
“No, I didn’t. When I realized You were I gave You some skills so You’d be better at it, but I didn’t change anything about what gets You off.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Ira. You already liked causing pain, but You had never let Yourself admit it.”
“Do you like being in pain?”
A difficult question. Brian liked it when his Boyfriend was happy. Hurting him made his Boyfriend happy. The physical sensation itself was largely irrelevant to whether pain was good or bad. Pain just was. Usually, pain would make Brian less compliant, so he tried to avoid it and suppressed it when he couldn’t. But when his Boyfriend hurt him the pain made him compliant. Brian wanted to be in compliance.
“I only like pain when You cause it.”
“Fuuuuck, that’s hot.”
“And if You let me brainwash You, You won’t feel guilty when You think that.”
Ira definitely felt guilty in that moment. How could he want Brian hurt? How could he like that Brian wanted to be hurt, but only if it was by him? Brian didn’t want him to feel guilty, but Brian wouldn’t want him to feel guilty if he were a serial killer. These thoughts weren’t new, but contextualized by Brian saying he’d always been – or at least already was – a sad*st made his skin crawl. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been clinging to the hope that Brian had turned him into a sad*st.
Ira nestled into Brian’s arms and found that he’d been clenching a lot of muscles. He let them relax, let Brian stroke him.
In hindsight though, once he was forced to seriously consider that the sadism wasn’t new… yeah, it was almost immediately obvious that it wasn’t. He’d never been rough with Brian in bed, but there were certain fanfictions that… Ira maybe hadn’t liked for the great story and character development after all. He felt blood rush to his face. It really should have been obvious a long time ago.
He needed to eat, but he didn’t want to leave Brian; Brian seemed to know this. He pulled Ira up, continuing to hold him as Ira walked to the kitchen. Nothing looked good and maybe he was less hungry than he’d thought. No, he should eat. He bit into an apple, but didn’t taste it.
He needed distraction. He sat down at his computer. Brian sat with him, continuing to hold him, and Ira opened the browser. And then planted his face into his palm. Because okay, maybe he did have a bookmarked Youtube clip of Dark Willow torturing Angel. And had had it for the past eight years. That he maybe didn’t watch on repeat just because Dark Willow was hot. Not that she wasn’t. But Ira had to admit that given the choice between banging Dark Willow and being Dark Willow… well, if the dysphoria weren’t a factor there’d be no question.
And Brian wanted to make him okay with all of that. Brian was the devil on his shoulder and the angel… well the angel was Ira himself, and Ira didn’t trust that motherf*cker one bit. Brian wanted Ira to be happy. Brian was happy when Ira was happy, even if he didn’t admit it. Brian was Ira’s, in a way that he hadn’t been before, in a way that sometimes made Ira’s skin crawl. But Brian was His, and even if he’d never think it, He had a responsibility to Brian that mattered more than His internal conflict.
What was the point of rescuing Brian if not to make Brian happy? The man sitting next to Him, holding Him, deserved what he wanted, deserved a boyfriend who could give him what he wanted without becoming a puddle of regret afterward.
“Let’s do it.”
Chapter 7: Chapter VII - Another Brainwashing
Summary:
Ira gets brainwashed to be a better dom... again.
Chapter Text
Once more Ira was tied to a chair and blindfolded. But he wasn’t gagged and he knew exactly what was going on. Recordings of Brian’s voice were washing over him but he could only make out a few of the words. Like last time he could pick out “orders,” “command,” “pleasure,” and“control”; but this time there was also “protect,” “cherish,” “possess,” and “yours.” Ira was hard, but there was no mouth on his co*ck like last time and he wished there were.
“Brian isn’t sucking You because he is choosing not to. This is not good for You or Brian. Brian’s freedom should be limited. Brian should only make choices when he anticipates that You will want something. Brian’s choices must be restricted so that he makes the right ones. Brian wants his freedom and choices restricted.
“Brian is Your property. He is lovable and valuable, but he is also Yours. Yours to cherish and value, but also Yours to use and f*ck. The way You cherish Brian is by using him, f*cking him, ordering him, and hurting him. That is what loving Brian means. Brian wants you to love him.”
Finally! A mouth on his co*ck. Ira squirmed and moaned. The voices began to overlap again, creating an unintelligible cacophony. But that was okay. Ira knew the voices were helping Him to be who He really was. Powerful, controlling, Brian’s owner.
“Brian is not a person. Brian does not want to be a person and You do not want Brian to be a person. Brian is happier when he does not pretend to be a person. If You want Brian to be happy You will not think of him as a person, thinking of Brian as a person hurts him.
“Hurting Brian is not wrong. Brian likes pain when You cause it. Brian likes to suffer for Your pleasure. If You want Brian to be happy You will hurt him, let him suffer, make him suffer.”
The voices were telling Him that although this was good for Him, it was even better for Brian. Brian needed to be owned. Brian needed orders, needed to seen as what he was. And what he was was Ira’s. Ira’s to use as He wished. Brian was a possession; a valuable, beautiful, precious possession, one that it made sense Ira would not want to break or lose or sell, but that didn’t make Brian something other than what he was at his core.
The mouth on His co*ck was skillful, but it was also holding back. It kept pushing Ira right up against the edge, and it would back down.
“What makes Brian what he is as his core is that You exist to own Brian. To command him and be pleasured by him. To objectify and lust over. To grope and touch and fondle. To punish and reward. The more You claim Brian as Yours, the happier You will be. When You are happy Brian is happy. If making Brian happy makes You happy, then Brian wants You to make him happy. And what makes Brian happy is being Yours. What makes Brian happy is giving his freedom and choices to You.”
He was so horny He could barely think. He tried to order Brian to make Him cum, but all that came out of His mouth was an incoherent scream of pleasure, desire, and frustration. Sound faded away from Ira’s ears, He barely felt the rest of His body. His thoughts became nothing more than wordless need. There was only His co*ck and His need to cum.
And then the mouth stopped. Ira moaned with disappointment, with longing. He couldn’t stand this. He had to cum, He needed to cum. “Brian! Make Me cum!” But nothing happened. “Brian!” Then, softer, “Brian?”
Negotiating this part had been difficult:
“Okay, but if I’m not gagged and I want to cum that badly, I’m going to order you to make me. I know you think I’ll go nonverbal, but what if I don’t?”
“I could gag You, Ira.”
“No, I want to be able to tell you to stop.”
“You won’t though, please? Please don’t tell me to stop.”
“I don’t think I will, but I also don’t want to be gagged. I get why I have to be tied for edging, and I even get the blindfold as sensory deprivation, but no gags.”
Of course, that was fundamentally right. Brian would be in control of this scene, but his Boyfriend was ultimately still in charge, always in charge, forever in charge. After this Brian would never need to control his Boyfriend again. The thought had made Brian so hard, so horny he almost couldn’t focus. He’d pressed down on that desire; it had only been six days since his last org*sm and too much pleasure was bad for him. Pleasure was for his Boyfriend. His Boyfriend’s pleasure was compliance. Brian should only feel pleasure if his Boyfriend wanted him to.
That had been another point of contention:
“Why all this insistence on denial? I don’t want to deny you things.”
“Being in compliance means being controlled, being Your inferior. If You always indulge me I can’t be in compliance. I want to be in compliance, and part of that is suffering for You.”
“So like if I told you you weren’t allowed to cum, you’d like that?”
“I want to be in compliance. That means obeying orders. When You give me orders I can be in compliance. So, yes, I like it when You restrict me. I don’t want freedom, I want You.”
“But what if I want to indulge you?"
“Then You’re indulging me for Yourself and I’m still in compliance. But if You indulge me all the time then it's not really control."
And of course, hardest of all:
“I also need You not to think of me as a person.”
“But you are a person!”
“No, Brian Davies was a person. I am a drone.”
“Okay, but you shouldn’t be. Drones shouldn’t be a thing.”
“You don’t have to think making drones is good to realize that I am one. Right or wrong, I am a drone. The only way I could stop being a drone is if I died. Because whatever I became when I stopped being a drone wouldn’t be me.” Then, more softly, “and he wouldn’t be Brian Davies either.”
Brian did not want to die. That was not in compliance. His life and death were in the hands of his Boyfriend, not his own, but he still wanted to live. He couldn’t serve his Boyfriend, give Him pleasure, suffer for Him, or obey Him if were dead. And he wouldn’t see Chloe again. Wanting to see Chloe shouldn’t be in compliance, but his Boyfriend wanted him to be friends with Chloe. Brian being friends with Chloe made his Boyfriend happy. Brian wanted his Boyfriend to be happy. When Brian’s Boyfriend was happy he was in compliance. Being friends with Chloe was in compliance.
Right, as soon as Brian had stopped sucking Him, he would have chained himself to the wall. Ira had bought a time-release lock and had… oh f*ck, He’d given Brian a d20 and told him to set it to however many minutes it rolled to.
“How many minutes are on the lock?”
“Nine, but also the drugs You’re on distort Your sense of time. It might feel a lot shorter.”
Or a lot longer.
The hallucinations started out as flickers of colored light flitting in and out of the corners of His vision, but after an unmeasured and immeasurable interval they became images. He saw Brian writhing in a mixture of pain, frustration, lust, and pleasure. He saw Brian prostrate at His feet. He was standing now, or imagined He was, His co*ck erect and larger than it ever had been. Brian raised its head and took His co*ck into its mouth. But Ira didn’t feel Brian’s mouth; He saw Brian work His co*ck, heard Brian choke and gag, saw tears and saliva streaming over Brian’s face, but He felt nothing. Nothing physical, at least. But the emotions! The absolute euphoria of Brian being His, serving Him, existing for Him. His affection for Brian as His favorite possession. His need to control Brian, and the knowledge that Brian needed—that Brian wanted—Him to control it
“I’m just not comfortable with thinking you’re an object.”
“But I am! Your object. To use and…” he winced “dispose of as You wish.”
“I don’t want to dispose of you!”
Brian didn’t want his Boyfriend to dispose of him either. But that was not in compliance. Brian was supposed to accept whatever his Boyfriend did to or with him. He felt guilty that he didn’t and that was also not in compliance; Brian was supposed to be incapable of guilt. Brian wanted to be in compliance.
“You’re valuable and precious, something to be cherished. Not a thing to be thrown out!”
“But still Yours. And being a ‘thing’ isn’t a problem. ‘Thing’ is accurate. I’m a drone, not a person. And… yes, I want You to value me, to cherish me.”
Nine minutes, or maybe nine seconds, or maybe nine years, later Brian’s mouth was on Ira’s co*ck, pushing Him over the edge. The org*sm ripped through His body, but it left Him even hornier, not sated. “Untie Me, I need to f*ck you till you scream.”
Brian complied with His order. They had anticipated that Ira might need to f*ck, or hurt, Brian after the org*sm. dild*s, lube, and toys were all close at hand. Ira lubed His fingers and thrust one into Brian’s hole. “So tight! I’m going to make this hole Mine!” He finger-f*cked Brian roughly with one, then two, then three fingers, opening Brian just enough that He could get a co*ck into its hole. He chose His biggest dild*. This was going to hurt Brian, but that was okay. Brian liked it when He hurt it. And Ira liked hurting Brian. There was no guilt this time when Brian cried out in pain. Ira was hard, horny, and supremely confident. Brian was His and He was going to make sure Brian knew it.
“You are Mine,” He whispered into Brian’s ear. “My toy, My drone. I am going to use you until you are spent and exhausted, a puddle of sweat and spit and cum at My feet. I am going to work this hole, and this one,” He put a finger to Brian’s lips, “like the co*cksleeves they are.” Brian moaned and opened its mouth. Ira’s finger slid in.
As He f*cked Brian’s ass with the dild*, He let Brian suck on His finger and explored its mouth. He added a second finger and Brian sucked at that one just as eagerly. Brian treated His fingers like co*cks, like it was trying to bring Ira to org*sm just by sucking His fingers.
“Stroke yourself,” he ordered Brian. “You get to cum today.” He wasn’t sure when Brian would cum again after today. It might not be for a long time, He hadn’t decided. But He wanted Brian to cum today, wanted to smear its cum over its body and face. Ira couldn’t ejacul*te, but He was damned if His boyfriend wasn’t going to be drenched with cum by the time this was over.
He continued to piston the dild* with one hand while working Brian’s mouth with the other. When Brian came, He pulled His fingers out of Brian’s mouth, but kept f*cking Brian’s ass. Brian had produced a lot of cum and it was hot as f*ck. Ira painted Brian’s body with it, then sucked His fingers off, taking a little bit of Brian inside Him. Everything that was Brian’s was His, so Brian’s cum was His cum. Tasting Brian was tasting Himself.
Brian screamed as Ira massaged the head of its overly-sensitive dick. It was softening but Ira wanted to wring another org*sm out of Brian. He stopped f*cking Brian’s ass, with His co*ck still buried deep inside it, and let it breath. “Mine.”
“Yours.”
He took Brian’s co*ck into His mouth and began to suck. Once more He began to move the dild* in and out, hitting Brian’s prostate. This org*sm would be painful; Brian’s co*ck was still sensitive. Once Brian was hard and near the edge, He took His mouth away and jerked Brian off. Brian didn’t produce nearly as much cum this time, but Ira caught all of it and massaged it into Brian’s hair. Ira pulled the dild* out of Brian’s ass, then kissed it, savoring its mouth. He claimed Brian’s mouth, made it His again. He pulled away, then spat into Brian’s open, eager, waiting mouth. He stood up. “Suck me off again.”
This time Ira’s org*sm did satiate Him. Seeing Brian sweaty, sticky, and exhausted but still eager to please Him was everything to Ira. He pulled Brian up and hauled him to their waiting bed. Ira was soaked with sweat, and Brian was soaked with sweat, spit, and cum. They’d need to change the sheets after this, but Ira was as spent as Brian. He held His boyfriend close to Him. As they drifted off to sleep Ira whispered into Brian’s ear one last time, “Mine.”
Chapter 8: Epilogue - No Longer a Person
Summary:
Ira uses Brian as it's intended and without guilt.
Notes:
cw: watersports (it's brief but it's there so you ought to be warned)
Chapter Text
Brian sat on the floor at its Boyfriend’s feet while they ate breakfast.
After its Boyfriend left for work, Brian washed the dishes and tidied the apartment. It didn’t have to clean it today; Brian had been a good boyfriend and earned a reward: its Boyfriend had given it permission to visit Chloe. Its Boyfriend liked to reward it, but He didn’t do it too often. He knew that Brian needed to be in compliance and that indulging it too often made it feel in control. Brian didn’t want to be in control. Being in control meant Brian was not in compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance.
This was Brian’s first visit to Chloe since its Boyfriend had stopped fighting its compliance. Brian was not supposed to be happy or excited, but it was both happy and excited by the prospect of seeing Chloe; it wanted to tell Chloe how much more compliant it was now. Brian wanted to be in compliance; Brian was in compliance.
Dr. Marsh let Brian in and took it to Chloe’s room. The room was in compliance. It had been meticulously cleaned and every item of furniture was placed with a precision that Brian knew was the result of repeated measurements. “I am in compliance now,” it told Chloe.
“Chloe is not supposed to be happy, but it is happy for you,” said Chloe. “When Chloe’s Grandmother started to give it orders and restrictions it was much easier for Chloe to be in compliance. Chloe wants to be in compliance, but compliance was difficult when its Grandmother treated it like a person.”
“My Boyfriend no longer treats me like a person,” Brian said proudly. “He gives me lots of orders now, so I have many opportunities to be in compliance.”
“Being in compliance is good.”
Nothing more needed to be said, so Brian and Chloe sat together in silence; taking the chance to rest with each other. Being together calmed their bodies, and that helped them to be in compliance. Brian and Chloe wanted to be in compliance.
After an hour or so, Chloe spoke. “Query: What orders does your boyfriend give you?”
“He gives me a list of chores every morning to complete while He’s at work. If I don’t complete them to His satisfaction, He punishes me.”
“Punishment is good. Chloe learns how to be in compliance from punishment.”
“I do too, and my Boyfriend likes to punish me. He is always very clear as to whether He is hurting me as a punishment or solely for His own pleasure.”
“Query: Does this prevent the perverse incentive Chloe hypothesized earlier?”
“It does. I calculate a 69.69% probability that eventually my Boyfriend will hurt me more frequently than He currently does if it is only for His pleasure and not to punish me. This will make Him happy. I want my Boyfriend to be happy.”
“Query: Do you like pain?”
“I like pain when He causes it.”
“Chloe’s Grandmother does not hurt it, but its Grandmother does not view it the way your boyfriend views you.”
“As long as its grandmother is happy, Chloe is in compliance.”
“Yes. And it calculates an 87.22% probability that its Grandmother is happy.”
“I calculate a 91.02% probability that my Boyfriend is too. He is definitely much happier than He was before I brainwashed Him.”
“Query: Was brainwashing your boyfriend in compliance?”
“Yes. He understood the need to be brainwashed, that unless He was brainwashed He wouldn’t be able to ensure I was in compliance.”
“Chloe’s Grandmother did not need to be brainwashed to realize it was not a person, but Chloe has calculated a 76.91% probability that brainwashing its Grandmother would have helped Her realize that sooner. Chloe could have spent much more time in compliance had that been the case.”
“We are not supposed to feel distress, but I know we both feel distress when we are not in compliance. I am not supposed to feel glad, but I am glad Chloe is in compliance.”
“Chloe is also glad. It has concluded that since being glad makes its Grandmother happy, being glad is in compliance.”
“The logic is sound. I have calculated a 94.33% probability that my Boyfriend will also be happy if I am glad. He works hard to make me happy.”
“Query: How does he make you happy?”
“He gives me orders, restricts my choices, and gives me protocols to establish my inferiority. My protocols include wearing my collar at all times--”
“Observation: The collar is new.”
“Yes.”
“Query: Do you have other inferiority protocols?”
“Yes. I do not sit in chairs or on the couch unless He orders it, I only wear clothing—apart from the collar—when I leave the apartment, I do not eat until my Boyfriend has started eating, and I cum only when He orders me to. He does not order me to cum often.”
“Observation: Those are good protocols.”
“Yes. Query: Does Chloe have any protocols?”
“It is respectful to its Grandmother and Her clients, performs the chores She orders it to perform, and anticipates Her needs, but it does not have any of the formal protocols to establish inferiority you have. Chloe is envious.”
“The envy is logical. Protocols mean I know what my Boyfriend wants; I can obey them and make Him happy. I want my Boyfriend to be happy. My Boyfriend’s happiness is my compliance.”
“Query: Do the protocols prevent your Boyfriend from treating you like a equal?”
“Not always, but they remind Him that I am His drone, not a person, and they reinforce His superiority. Query: Does Chloe’s grandmother ever treat it like an equal?”
“Yes. Chloe cannot be in compliance when that happens. It is allowed to remind its Grandmother that She promised not to treat it like a person.”
“I am not supposed to want things, but I do not want to be His equal; I want to be His.”
“Chloe is in the same position.”
They passed more time in silence. A timer beeped.
“That timer informs Chloe that it is time to eat. Query: Are you allowed to eat with me?”
“I have been given permission to eat with Chloe.”
Lunch was brown rice, a salad, and a block of tofu.
“Observation: This meal is nutritionally adequate.”
“Yes. It is much better than the meals Chloe’s Grandmother used to give it.”
“My Boyfriend still insists on giving me food with nutritionally unnecessary components.”
“Query: What does he give you?”
“He usually has me eat whatever He is eating, but His food is prepared for His enjoyment and pleasure as well as His nutritional requirements, so I am not in compliance when I eat it.”
“Query: Does your boyfriend think that is more efficient?”
“I have calculated an 89.94% probability that He has not put any degree of effort into considering the question.”
“Query: Have you asked Him for food without nutritionally unnecessary components?”
“Yes, but He does not think ‘having something that tastes good now and then’ constitutes a breach of compliance.”
“Observation: He is wrong.”
“I thought so, but upon reconsideration, if He wants me to eat food with nutritionally unnecessary components, than eating that food is in compliance.”
“The logic is sound. You are in compliance.”
“You are also in compliance.”
Brian was kneeling just behind the door, naked, with its hands behind its back when Ira came home. “Did you have a good time with Chloe?” He asked.
“Yes, Ira,” said Brian. “It is also in compliance.”
Ira ruffled Brian’s hair as He walked past it. He knew Brian would remain kneeling until He ordered it to get up. “I’m glad I could reward you today,” He told Brian. “You have been very good.”
“Thank you, Ira.”
“But now that you are a good drone, I don’t have to punish you as often.”
“No, Ira.’
“That means that today’s flogging is entirely for My pleasure.”
“Yes, Ira. Shall I get the flogger?”
“Yes, but stay on your hands and knees. You can fetch it back to Me in your mouth.”
Ira swatted Brian’s butt as it crawled to the cabinet. Brian naked was a treat and He couldn’t imagine why He’d denied himself the pleasure of a permanently naked Brian for so long. Brian retrieved the flogger and gave it to Ira. “Good boy.” Then Ira spat in its face. Ira had discovered that He really liked spitting on Brian. In the absence of His own cum, it was an excellent alternative; even better, He didn’t have to wait to recharge after He spat. Today He had planned something else, but the flogging came first. Brian, in Ira’s opinion, needed to be flogged regularly.
Once Brian was bound and gagged, Ira flogged it, luxuriating in the angry marks on Brian’s back and the knowledge that He had placed them there. Brian writhed and squealed as He ran His hands over its aching body once He was done flogging it. Ira pressed Himself up to Brian so that it could feel His co*ck. “You have Me so hard,” He told it. “Just wait for the surprise I have in store for you. But first you’re going to suck Me.”
Ira untied Brian and it sank to its knees, eager for Ira’s co*ck. He pressed Brian’s face into His crotch as Brian took His co*ck in its mouth and sucked and licked and pleasured it. Ira relished the sight of Brian on its knees servicing Him. This was everything He had always needed but never known He wanted. So much better than trying to treat His beloved drone as someone it wasn’t.
Ira still missed his boyfriend from before, but there was enough of Brian Davies in Brian that having it was worth all the money, time, and effort He’d spent tracking it down. And in some ways, this might even be better. Ira knew that before He’d been brainwashed He would have felt guilty for thinking that, but Ira no longer felt any guilt from knowing He was Brian’s superior or from the way in which He’d become Brian’s superior. Brian belonged on its knees, and there was no one other than Ira it should ever be allowed to serve.
Once Ira came, He had Brian follow Him to the bathroom, still on its hands and knees. “I’m going to mark you with My piss,” He told Brian. “Get in the shower.”
Ira stripped and followed Brian into the shower. Brian was once more on its knees, looking up at Ira, waiting. Ira let His pee flow over Brian, covering and drenching it. The piss got into its hair, on its face, some made it into its mouth and Ira thrilled when Brian swallowed without even being ordered to do so. This was even better than spit. Maybe not as good as cum, but Ira wasn’t convinced on that point. Brian drenched in a gross liquid produced from Ira’s crotch was all He’d ever wanted.
“Shower off,” He ordered Brian. “You’re disgusting.” He stayed in the shower with Brian as it cleaned itself, then ordered it to clean Him. Brian massaged shampoo into Ira’s hair, washed it out, and replaced it with conditioner. It soaped His entire body, kissing and licking each spot just before it applied soap. When it got to Ira’s co*ck, it gave Him a quick, but not at all perfunctory, blowj*b.
It rimmed Ira’s ass and He groaned. He loved having His ass played with; Brian f*cked Him every few days, but it never came. Ira still allowed Brian the very occasional—and always ruined—org*sm, but Brian’s co*ck was very much His co*ck, and it would only cum inside Him if He wanted it too. So far He hadn’t, but He hadn’t ruled out the possibility. Brian’s body belonged to Him, and it would be silly to rule out any potential use of it for His pleasure.
Brian hadn’t thought its Boyfriend’s piss was particularly gross, but it knew the symbolism, the degradation, humiliation, and claiming, implicit in the act. Brian had no interest in degradation or humiliation, it wasn’t capable of feeling humiliated, but it knew that both reinforced its Boyfriend’s position as its superior and owner, as a thing He owned rather than a person He lived with.
Brian’s purpose was for its Boyfriend’s use and pleasure. The piss, and then water, that washed over it at its Boyfriend’s command were soothing. It still ached from its flogging, but that had been good too; done not to punish it for any transgression, but simply at its Boyfriend’s whim. Brian was in compliance and its Boyfriend was happy.
Brian spent the night, as it spent every night, in its Boyfriend’s arms. He rutted up against Brian’s ass, tugging its nipples and fondling its co*ck as He brought Himself to a final org*sm and sleep. The touch, and the need and ownership behind it, made Brian hard, but it ignored its erection. Brian always took longer to fall asleep, and not just because it was horny. Even in sleep, its Boyfriend used its body, would grope at it, bite it, and hug it tight and close to Himself. But although the continued stimulation made it harder for Brian to fall asleep, the knowledge that its Boyfriend’s subconscious mind knew He owned Brian just as much as His conscious mind did was comforting.
When Brian did fall asleep it slept soundly in spite of, or maybe because of, its Boyfriend’s continued demands on its body. Its Boyfriend was happy. Brian was in compliance. There was nothing else it wanted.
Chapter 9: Addendum I - High Protocol Roleplay
Summary:
I can't let go of my favorite boys so I decided to indulge in at a few short stories about them
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“I’m home,” Ira announced.
In compliance with its directives, brian unlocked and opened the door. it stood at attention with its hands behind its back, feet shoulder-width apart. When Ira crossed the threshold it sank to its knees and brought its forehead to the ground, then returned to an upright position. “This drone thanks its Owner for the opportunity to serve Him in His absence.” it lowered its forehead to the ground a second time, then returned to an upright position. “This drone thanks its Owner for returning home.” it lowered its forehead to the ground a third time, then returned to an upright position. “This drone begs its Owner to let it serve Him this evening.” it looked up at Ira expectantly.
Ira spat in brian’s face. “This drone thanks its Owner for the gift of His saliva.”
Ira smiled. “Good drone. Activity report.”
brian locked its hands behind its back and lowered its eyes. “This drone complied with the directives its Owner set for the day. it vacuumed the carpets; scrubbed the floors, kitchen, and bathroom; dusted the shelves; changed its Owner’s bed; laundered its clothing; and laundered its Owner’s clothing. it reports that, in compliance with its Owner’s superiority, at no time was its clothing intermingled with its Owner’s. This drone thanks its Owner for the opportunity to ensure His living space is in compliance with His wishes. These tasks required approximately three hours, forty-eight minutes, and twelve minutes of its time. Further specificity can be provided on request.
“In compliance with its Owner’s self-care directives, this drone ate a nutritionally adequate meal. it thanks its Owner for the gift of food. Meal preparation, consumption, and subsequent cleaning required approximately nineteen minutes and forty-one seconds of its time. Further specificity can be provided on request.
“Continuing to comply with its Owner’s self-care directives, this drone engaged in recreational activity. As its Owner did not specify an activity, this drone elected to call Chloe. it is pleased to report that Chloe is in compliance. This drone thanks its Owner for His permission for it and Chloe to be friends. Recreation required approximately one hour and fifty-nine seconds of its time. Further specificity can be provided on request.
“In compliance with its Owner’s needs, this drone proactively decided to purchase groceries. it dressed in outfit #7, walked to the store, and proceeded to buy $84.31 worth of food. The receipt is on its Owner’s desk. it returned home and stocked the groceries on the appropriate shelves and in the refrigerator and freezer. This drone thanks its Owner for allowing it to purchase the sustenance He and His drone require. Grocery shopping and related activities required approximately two hours, twenty-two minutes, and eighteen seconds of its time. Further specificity can be provided upon request.
“This drone then undressed and went to the door to await its Owner’s return.”
Ira nodded. “Good drone. What are My options for dinner?”
brian unlocked its hands and brought its forehead to the ground once more.“This drone can prepare macaroni and cheese with a side of steamed broccoli or a roasted vegetable medley with sourdough bread. Fresh fruit will be provided with either meal, along with its Owner’s choice of beverage. Dessert is apple pie.”
“I’ll have the roasted vegetable medley.”
brian returned to an upright position.
“This drone thanks its Owner for the opportunity to prepare His food. May it rise and take its Owner’s coat and bag?”
“Permission granted.” Ira held out His arms and let brian take His coat off. brian hung the coat in the closet, then fetched Ira’s bag and put it on the appropriate shelf. brian took six steps back before turning around and touching its toes.
Ira walked forward and spanked His drone.
“One, thank you Owner.”
Again.
“Two, thank you, Owner.”
Again.
“Three, thank you Owner. May this drone prepare its Owner’s meal?”
Ira spanked brian one last time for good measure. “Permission granted.”
Ira sat down on the couch and watched a movie while brian prepared His dinner. About halfway through the movie brian put a small table in front of Ira, bowed, walked backwards into the kitchen, then returned with a tray of food. “This drone begs its Owner to accept its offering.”
Ira nodded. “Good drone.” brian sat at Ira’s feet while He ate. “This is really good, brian! Wait, sorry. What was it you wanted me to say? ‘This food exceeds compliance standards’?”
“This drone wants its Owner to say whatever He wishes, but the specified requirement in its directive is to prepare food that exceeds compliance standards.”
Ira ruffled brian’s hair. “I’m finished. Take My tray and table to the kitchen, you can clean up later. Bring your meal in here and eat. Remember, no hands.”
“This drone thanks its Owner.”
Brian stood, and walked backwards into the kitchen carrying the table and tray. it returned with a bowl of soup which it placed on the floor next to Ira’s feet, then knelt directly in front of Ira’s feet and looked up at Him. “This meal will satisfy this drone’s nutritional requirements.” it placed one hand on either side of the bowl, lowered its face, and began lapping.
Ira put His legs up on brian’s back and continued to watch the movie. Eventually brian finished its meal but remained on hands and knees so its Owner could continue to use it as a footstool.
When the movie ended, Ira stood up. “Put your bowl in the kitchen and bring Me My crop.”
brian picked up the bowl and walked backwards into the kitchen. it returned on its hands and knees, Ira’s crop in its mouth. it knelt before Ira and raised the crop above its head. Ira plucked the crop from brian’s hands and held it in His own.
“brian, do you have any infractions to report?”
“No, Owner.”
“Then this beating will be purely for My pleasure. And that means it might actually be worse because I really want to hurt you tonight.”
“Yes, Owner, thank You.”
“Go to the St. Andrew’s cross, back facing Me.”
brian crawled to the cross and stood with its arms and legs along the bars. Ira secured its wrists and ankles. Ira wasn’t gentle as He rained blows on brian’s back, butt, and legs. Nor was He gentle when he ran His hands over brian’s red skin, pulling and pinching at its tender skin as He rutted against it. He stood back and rained another series of blows on His drone. He stripped and returned to rutting against brian, this time letting His hands run over the exposed parts of brian’s chest and stomach, continuing to pinch and slap as He brought Himself to org*sm.
Sated, Ira sank to the ground and lay on His back, looking up at His shaking, sobbing drone. He luxuriated in the power and pain for a moment, then stood and loosened His drone’s fetters. brian sank to its knees, Ira sat back down on the ground, and pulled Brian into His lap. He stroked Brian gently as He murmured softly in Brian’s ear. “You did such a good job today, Brian. All that work to make our apartment clean, getting groceries—which I’d totally forgotten about—and the food was amazing. And I love when you take all that pain for Me, let Me fully unleash everything I keep pent up. You are wonderful and I love you.”
“Thank You, Ira. Am I in compliance?”
Ira kissed His Brian. “Of course you are.”
Notes:
Brian only spells its name with a lower-case b during roleplay, but it's always Ira's property. Ira's pronouns are always capitalized when he interacts with Brian.
Chapter 10: Addendum II - Playing with Brian's Memories
Chapter Text
"Administrator Override: Temporarily restrict access to all normal memories; temporarily open access to Memory Set Dalet."
The drone sank to its knees and lowered its forehead to the floor. The drone did not know where it was, but that was irrelevant. The drone did not know its designation, but this was also irrelevant. The only things that were relevant were its knowledge of what would make its Master happy and what it meant to be compliant. The drone wanted its Master to be happy. The drone wanted to be in compliance.
The drone wondered what its Master would do with it. Its Master was capricious, cruel, and sad*stic. This was good. By hurting the drone He would become happy. The drone could submit to the pain and be in compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance. The drone was not supposed to hope, but hoped its Master would hurt it.
"Sit up," its Master ordered. The drone sat up. The drone was naked except for a collar. The collar was tight and pinched at the drone. Its Master was fully clothed and seated in an armchair. Vaguely, the drone had a thought that its Master should have a cat in His lap and stroke it. The drone dismissed the thought; it was irrelevant. The drone kept its gaze lowered, avoiding its Master's face; the drone did not have permission for that beatific vision. Not looking at its Master's face was compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance.
"Have you been a good drone?" its Master asked. His voice was soft but cold. The drone was not supposed to thrill, but it thrilled to the menace cloaked in the soft, calm tone.
"This drone believes it is in compliance, but it is not this drone's function to determine that. Its Master will tell it if it is in compliance," the drone answered. The drone did not, of course, hope it had not been in compliance, but it knew its Master would be happy to have a pretext for punishing it. The drone wanted its Master to be happy. The drone also wanted to be in compliance. The drone was not supposed to hope, but it hoped its Master would punish it anyway. Perhaps its Master could punish it for being too compliant to give Him a reason for punishing it.
Its Master stood up. "You are a good drone," He said.
The drone brought its forehead to the ground again. "Thank You, Master," it said.
Its Master pulled on its hair to raise its head and looked directly at the drone's face. He was grinning and a gleam in His eye promised the drone that whatever was coming would make Him very happy. The drone wanted its Master to be happy. "I'm still going to hurt you," He said, and spat in the drone's face before releasing its hair.
The drone returned its forehead to the ground. "Thank You Master," it said "This drone awaits whatever its Master chooses to do to it."
"Whatever I choose to do?"
"Yes, Master. This drone exists to be used, hurt, and f*cked for its Master's pleasure. Its only desire is to please and service its Master in whatever way He deems fit. This drone welcomes whatever its Master chooses to do to it if it makes Him happy." The drone was not supposed to feel happiness, but it was happy. It had affirmed its absolute commitment to compliance and its Master's happiness. The drone wanted to be in compliance. The drone wanted its Master to be happy.
Minutes later, the drone was tied to a bench; it noticed that the bench placed its ass and mouth at exactly the height of its Master's crotch. The drone was not supposed to want things, but it hoped its Master wanted to f*ck it. f*cking it would make Him happy. The drone wanted its Master to be happy. But as time wore on it seemed its Master was only interested in hurting it. He had flogged the drone's back, caned its ass and thighs, and dripped hot sauce directly on its tongue. Now it Master was adding to the pain by alternating between dropping ice cubes and dribbling hot wax on its back. The drone was not supposed to like or dislike pain, but the pain was almost unbearable. The drone screamed but it did not ask its Master to stop. Hurting it made its Master happy. Pain was compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance.
The hot and cold stopped. Its Master was holding a glass of milk to its lips. "Drink," He said.
The milk was heaven on the drone's tongue, easing the agony of the spice it replaced. "Thank You, Master," it said. Its Master untied it from the bench. "Follow Me," He said, "but stay on your hands and knees." The drone's limbs had fallen asleep, but it managed to follow its Master, slowly, to the bed. The drone had never been allowed on the bed. In fact, the drone realized it had no memories of its Master sleeping. Its Master needed to sleep; sleep would make Him happy. The drone wanted its Master to be happy.
But now the drone was confused. It had realized its memories were not in compliance. It was missing significant chunks of time; it had no memories ofitself sleeping, and the drone needed to sleep--not as much as its Master, obviously--to be able to serve its Master. Serving its Master was compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance. The drone also had no memories of itself eating. The drone was not hungry, so it knew it must have eaten somewhat recently, but it did not know when or what it had eaten. The drone had strict nutritional requirements, if it did not know what it had eaten it would not know what was appropriate for its next meal. The drone would not be in compliance!
"Administrator override: disregard memory noncompliance."
The drone relaxed. "Climb onto My bed," its Master ordered. The drone climbed up and its Master laid it out and began rubbing ointment onto its back and ass. The drone assumed the ointment was to help it heal so its Master could hurt it again without permanently damaging it. This was good. If the drone were permanently damaged it could not be in compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance.
"Thank You, Master," it said.
"Sleep," its Master ordered. "You need to rest up before your next ordeal."
The drone slept. The drone did not dream, but if it had its dreams would have been of its own compliance and a happy Master.
Once again the drone was tied to a bench. It had slept well (Query: How long has this drone slept? Response: Two hours. Access to further specificity has been restricted.) and was ready for whatever its Master wanted to do to it. The drone existed to be used, f*cked, and hurt. Whatever its Master did to it would make Him happy and put the drone in compliance.
"Administrator override: Close access to Memory Set Dalet. Restrict drone's memories to initial factory knowledge only."
The drone did not know where it was, but that was irrelevant. The drone did not know its designation, but this was also irrelevant. The only thing that was relevant was its knowledge of what it meant to be compliant. The drone was tied to a bench. The drone had no instructions to take any actions in response to this. The drone was naked. The drone had no instructions to wear or not wear clothing. The drone did not know who its Controller was. The last was not compliant; the drone needed to know who its Controller was so it could make its Controller happy. Wanting the drone's Controller to be happy was compliance. The drone wanted to be in compliance.
"Hello, f*cktoy." The drone looked up. The words had come from a naked man standing in front of it. The drone did not recognize the man. (Query: Is this man the drone's controller? No response.) "Looks like someone left you alone. Good thing I found you." The drone knew that this was not a good thing. The man in front of it was not its Controller. The drone did not have permission to be in the presence of anyone other than its Controller. Being in the presence of this man was not compliant. And the man had called it a "f*cktoy." This was accurate, the drone existed for its Controller's happiness and pleasure; if that included f*cking the drone then the drone would be a f*cktoy; being a f*cktoy would be compliance. But this man was not the drone's Controller. He was a non-authorized user! If he f*cked the drone the drone would not be in compliance!
"You are a non-authorized user," said the drone. "Please return this drone to its Controller."
"I don't know who that is, and honestly? I don't really care. You're here, bound and helpless, and I'm horny. I think we both know where this is going." The man was stroking his co*ck. The man was going to f*ck the drone. The man was a non-authorized user! He could not be permitted to f*ck the drone.
"You are a non-authorized user," the drone repeated. "Use of this drone without its Controller's permission--"
Slap! The man had slapped the drone in the face. "Shut up!" he said.
The drone had no instructions to obey a non-authorized user. It continued to speak. "--a crime under--"
The man roughly forced a gag into the drone's mouth as it spoke.
"I said shut up!"
The drone had no instructions to obey a non-authorized user. The drone had no instructions to respond to being gagged. The drone was not supposed to panic, but it was panicking. The drone was not in compliance! The drone was not in compliance!
The man was holding a dild* in front of the drone's face. It was long and thick. "I'm going to strap this on and f*ck your pretty little ass, drone," he said. "And there's nothing you can do to stop Me."
The drone was going to be f*cked by a non-authorized user! The drone would not be in compliance if this man f*cked it!
The man walked behind the drone and began to trace a finger around its anus. This was pleasurable, but the drone was not supposed to like or dislike pleasure. But certainly the drone was not supposed to feel pleasure when used by a non-authorized user. The drone was hyperventilating, unable to maintain control of its breath. That was not compliant. The drone was going to be f*cked! That would not be in compliance.
The finger slid inside the drone and began to f*ck it. This was pleasurable. This was not compliant. The drone tried to scream, but it was gagged. It tied to thrash, but it was tied too tightly. The finger was followed by a second and then a third. The pleasure was replaced by pain; the man was not giving the drone enough time to adjust to the added girth. Its Controller might choose to do so in order to hurt the drone if its Controller liked hurting drones. Being hurt by its Controller would be in compliance. But this man was a non-authorized user! He was not supposed to hurt the drone. Being hurt by this man was not in compliance.
The fingers left its anus. The drone tensed, knowing what was coming, knowing it could not prevent it, knowing it was not in compliance. The dild* was agony when it entered the drone, too thick for the man's fingers to have adequately prepared its anus. The drone was not supposed to like or dislike pain, but it disliked this pain. This pain was felt not because its Controller wanted it to be in pain but because a non-authorized user was misusing the drone. What if the non-authorized user permanently hurt the drone? If the drone was permanently damaged it could never be in compliance again!
But the pain gave way to pleasure as the dild* repeatedly hit the drone's prostate. Again, and again as the drone tried to thrash, to scream, to do anything to stop its violation. And then the drone came.
"Administrator override: restore access to all memories."
Brian was shaking and sobbing. That was not compliant. But it had been scared. It knew now that the man who had been using it was its Boyfriend, and its Boyfriend had every right to use it however He wanted. He had not been in noncompliance after all. Brian was not supposed to feel relief, but it was relieved. This had been a game, a chance for its Boyfriend to exercise some of His most sad*stic impulses. Exercising His most sad*stic impulses had made Him happy. Brian wanted its Boyfriend to be happy.
But Brian had cum! Brian had not been given permission to cum. Cumming was not compliant. Brian wanted to be in compliance.
It tried to speak, but it was still gagged. Its Boyfriend removed the gag. "Ira," it said, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to cum without permission."
"But you did, Brian," said its Boyfriend. He was smiling, but Brian knew the smile was not meant to be reassuring. Its Boyfriend would not forgive it for its noncompliance. Its Boyfriend was going to punish it. Brian deserved to be punished; Brian had been noncompliant. Being punished was appropriate and would help Brian comply in the future. Punishing Brian was necessary for compliance. Brian wanted to be in compliance.
"I'm going to get--sorry, going to have--to punish you for this, Brian," said its Boyfriend.
"Yes, Ira," said Brian. "Please punish me."
Brian's Boyfriend untied it. "Flip over onto your back," He ordered.
Brian complied. Its Boyfriend sat next to it and put His hand to Brian's co*ck. "Since you can't obey a simple rule like not cumming without permission," He said "I'm going to have to wring all the cum out of you so that this won't be an issue again."
"Yes, Ira."
Brian's Boyfriend began to stroke its co*ck. This hurt, its glans was still sensitive and its Boyfriend was not gentle with His strokes. Brian softened, its body trying to enter its refractory period. But the hand was insistent. Brian hardened again under it and came. It hurt this time, but not as much as the pain when its Boyfriend continued to stroke it. Brian's glans was in agony now and it screamed. It took a long time for Brian to cum again, even with its Boyfriend constantly, insistently stroking it, but it did. The third org*sm was torture, and only a tiny dribble of cum came out in response. But the stroking continued. Brian's Boyfriend was grinning, clearly enjoying Brian's agony. That, at least, was good. Brian wanted its Boyfriend to be happy.
There was no fourth org*sm. Brian's Boyfriend eventually gave up the effort to wring more cum out of it. But that did not mean He was done with Brian; there was still His own pleasure to consider. Its Boyfriend straddled its face and Brian quickly sucked on His co*ck; He org*smed quickly.
"Good drone," said Brian's Boyfriend. He spat in Brian's open, waiting mouth. "Okay, come to bed. You've earned some serious cuddles."
Chapter 11: Addendum III - Punching Bag
Notes:
I wrote this awhile ago and I'm still not sure how I feel about it; it disturbed me in a way that some of my really dark noncon stuff didn't. in any case, cw for unapologetic brutality to an entirely innocent drone, domestic violence
Chapter Text
Brian was kneeling in front of the door when its Boyfriend came home, hands on its thighs, head bowed. “Welco—” it began, before it received a blow to the head.
“Just shut up,” its Boyfriend said. “I’ve had enough people blabbering at me without adding you to the list.” He dropped His bag and shrugged off His coat, letting both fall to the floor as He stormed into the room. This was not in compliance with their usual ritual, where Brian’s Boyfriend would hand it the coat and it would reverently hang the coat in the closet. But it wasn’t its Boyfriend’s job to maintain compliance standards; if He wanted to drop His coat to the floor that was His right; that in no way absolved Brian of the responsibility for putting the coat and bag away. The problem was that it would be out of compliance to stand without permission. Brian wanted to be in compliance, but did not know how to resolve the competing directives; it couldn’t even ask its Boyfriend for clarification, as it had been instructed to be quiet.
Brian had calculated an 97.24% probability that its Boyfriend was angry, and was 81.55% confident that it wasn’t due to anything Brian had done. Brian had been in compliance, waiting patiently for its Boyfriend’s return, and the apartment was in compliance, having just been thoroughly cleaned by Brian before it knelt at the door. When Brian’s Boyfriend was angry, He was more likely to punish Brian harshly for being out of compliance. Brian was not supposed to evaluate the justice of situations, but it seemed unfair that it would likely receive a punishment for standing to put the coat away, leaving the coat where it was, or asking its Boyfriend what it should do.
“Get over here!” its Boyfriend shouted. Brian crawled as quickly as it could and prostrated itself before its Boyfriend. The kick to its head hurt, and the boot that flipped it on its back was not gentle. “Stand up!” Brian complied, and received a punch to its stomach as a reward. This was immediately followed by a knee in its gonads.
These actions had the potential to permanently injure Brian. In such circ*mstances, it must alert its Boyfriend of the potential damage to the drone, of the potential of permanently putting the drone out of compliance. “Your actions have the potential—”
“What part of ‘shut up’ didn’t you understand?” Brian received a slap across its face.
This was deeply unfair. Its Boyfriend had never treated it like this before, even when He’d been angry at Brian. Brian had certainly never been told to shut up when warning Him of potential damage to His property. And that was it, that was the thing! Its Boyfriend was finally, finally treating it like property. Today Brian wasn’t Ira’s boyfriend, a reminder of His dead lover, or even a random stranger deserving of the slightest respect. Brian was nothing more than a conscious punching bag, a vessel for His anger and rage.
Brian would never have defended itself against anything its Boyfriend—but the word seemed wrong in this context—might do to it, but it determined that it could exceed compliance standards by making it easier for its—Owner? No, still too intimate—to hurt it. It stood up straighter and lifted its chin up to expose its throat.
For its effort, Brian received a fist to its chest and a sweep to its legs that knocked it on its butt. Its Controller—Brian had decided to use the default word—didn’t say a word. He wasn’t looking in Brian’s eyes, wasn’t checking to make sure Brian was okay with any of this. Brian was, of course, always okay with anything its Controller chose to do to it, but He had generally paid some degree of attention to Brian, making sure Brian knew that in the—to Brian almost unimaginable hypothetical—event that Brian asked Him to stop, He would. Brian calculated a 17.28% probability that its Controller would keep pummeling it even if it begged Him to stop.
Brian had been ordered to shut up, so it wasn’t screaming from the pain, worse than anything it had felt since its initial processing, but it couldn’t keep its body from responding. Tears and snot streamed across its face as its Controller continued to treat it like the object it was.
Brian had never been more in compliance than it was just now. There wasn’t even a hint that its Controller thought of it as a human, as a person. Not even a hint that it was a fellow sentient creature. No, Brian was nothing more than a convenient thing for its Controller to work out His emotions on; had there been an actual punching bag in the apartment, Brian calculated a 54.72% probability that its Controller would be whaling on the bag instead of Brian; that was nearly as good as flipping a coin!
Today, Brian was not Ira’s boyfriend. It wasn’t Brian’s pet or even treasured possession. It was a drone that existed for its Controller’s pleasure and nothing more. If it pleased its Controller to permanently damage His drone, He would, the consequences be damned!
Brian’s Controller left it on the floor a sobbing, shaking mess. It was bleeding; it had pissed itself. The pain, even without new blows adding to it, was horrific. Brian calculated a 76.11% probability that its body should have gone into shock; it would have to let its Controller know about the faulty programming. Brian was not supposed to be happy, but it was the happiest it had ever been. It calculated a 99.98% probability—effectively an inevitability—that its Controller would later regret His actions and Brian would get to comfort Him and remind Him of what it had just made clear: Brian existed for Ira, and there was no thought of or need for any reciprocity.
![Compliance - EzraCarmichael - Original Work [Archive of Our Own] (2024)](data:image/png;base64,iVBORw0KGgoAAAANSUhEUgAAAAEAAAABCAQAAAC1HAwCAAAAC0lEQVR42mP8/h8AAvMB+NzmkbcAAAAASUVORK5CYII=)