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Undone by His Suit

Part 4

for Katsuka

by Draconicon

Mr. Gray had no mercy, starting with the decision not to use him that night. Rather than allowing Crypt'Lisk the slightest relief of being fucked or used - like a good drone - the bear had him taken away, pulled down from the working offices to the labs underneath the garage, down in the top secret areas of the company. All the employees knew that they existed, but the programmers, debuggers, and installers were never allowed down there. He had no idea what to expect, but he knew that it was going to be something worse than just being kept in the bear's presence.

In his foggy state of mind, he was barely aware of the hands all over his body once he was dragged down there, nor the pressure of different devices being added to his suit. Things were put on, taken off, the suit modified, the symbiote made stronger, and worst of all -

_Be a good drone.

Be a good drone.

Be a good drone.

Be a good drone._

The phrase was beamed right into his brain from a screen that hovered over his head, beamed into his mind to such a degree that there was no escaping the bright lights or the simple phrase. He started mouthing it in return around the gag in his mouth, grunting and huffing the words through lips pushed too far open to actually move more than the slightest bit.

He was a good drone.

He was a good drone.

He was a good drone.

_A good drone.

A good bitch.

A good drone.

A good Bitch._

Bitch. That was the name that was popping into his head more and more as the hypnosis went on, and he knew for a fact that it was the right name for him. Crypt'Lisk had been a successful, slightly arrogant little drone, and there was no place for that in the employ of Mr. Gray. No, there was no place for someone that had the right to think for themselves, no place for someone that might cause trouble by doing something that the master hadn't ordered them to do. For that matter, there was no place for someone that would have called Mr. Gray their master, rather than what he really was.

Their Owner deserved the greatest of reverence, the most total of obedience, and Crypt'Lisk couldn't give that. The name had no place in the snake.

Nor did the name NightVeiler. That belonged to a vigilante, someone that had stood against Mr. Gray, though not knowingly. That was the only thing that was a saving grace for that identity, that it hadn't been the sort of idiot that had fought against Mr. Gray knowing who he was. At the same time, that sort of defiance had to be punished, and there would be no keeping it around. There was no point to being someone that stood against the Owner, and that meant that NightVeiler would be something that others would remember, but not him.

Bitch, however, was the right name. Bitch was one that hadn't made mistakes yet, and Bitch could be trained to be better than the other names. Bitch could be a good boy. Bitch could be a good toy. Bitch could be a good drone.

And it would be.

Bitch laid there on the table as devices were fitted to its arms and legs, pushed up from the hands and feet until they were resting at the elbows and knees. Something shimmered, and he had a feeling of his arms and legs being in very different places. His extremities were wrapped up, sunk in something, padded, while his arms and legs at the shoulders and thighs were poked, prodded, and he was made to remember where they were, feel what was done to them, remembering that they were still there.

The symbiote was still wrapped around him, tormenting his cock as it was forced to remain hard at all times, feeling the pressure of pleasure, the urgency of his need ratcheted up at all times. He groaned, thrashing from side to side, sucking air as the suit tugged and milked at his cock, pushed and pulled at his rim like tentacles, fingers, tongues, always changing shape, always changing size. It was impossible to get used to the stimulation, because it was always something new, always something different, always something that little bit more potent than before.

He never came, though. He wasn't allowed to cum. Not yet.

_Good bitches don't cum without orders.

Good drones don't move without orders.

Good bitches do what they're told.

Good drones do as they're commanded._

It panted under the bright lights, sinking further and further into the commands, the experiments, and the customization of its body. There was no going back. There was no more Crypt'Lisk, no more NightVeiler. There was only Bitch, and Drone-Bitch at that.

The night passed in a blur of light, color, torment, and pleasurable sounds. When morning came, the snake was a mess, but it was a drone through and through. Or at least, it felt that way. Its cock continued to throb between its legs, pushed forward. Its slit was well-defined in the suit, and the symbiote - entirely the symbiote, now, as the suit itself had been completely replaced to make room for the creature itself wrapped around the snake - was constantly pushing into his slit, teasing the insides, treating it and transforming it into just another fuck-hole for someone to use. There was no mercy, and Bitch didn't expect any.

It lay there on the table, waiting for the next stage of its training. It didn't know how long it waited, but it knew when the door opened that it was time. It turned its eyeless head towards the doorframe, seeing Mr. Gray standing there. The bear smiled slightly, shaking his head as he walked over .

"You've been given a proper form, I see."

Drone-Bitch didn't answer. The bear nodded.

"Roll over."

Drone-Bitch did as it was told, and found that there had been greater changes than it had entirely realized. Its arms and legs were shortened, no longer ending with fingers and toes, but with elbows and knees. It looked down to see that there were 'portal' bands, as some of the less-informed called them, installed around its limbs. That meant that the other parts were being kept in storage somewhere, probably to be kept there permanently. The caps of the rings meant that the suit could flow over the ends of its limbs, creating caps for the moment, little stumps that ensured that the drone would have to stay on all fours.

It looked up and nodded. There were no complaints from Drone-Bitch. It was given the body that it required for its role, and that was all that it needed to know.

"Do you understand your place?" the bear asked.

"I understand, Owner."

"What is that place?"

"Under you. Your drone. Your bitch."

"And what does that mean?"

"I am a possession. An item. A thing to be used and shown off. Furniture. A plaything. A toy. Something that you may maintain or throw out as you will."

"That is correct."

Drone-Bitch was given a moment to feel satisfied with itself and its answer. The moment passed quickly as the bear pointed down to the floor, and it followed the command, hopping down. There was a dull ache through its limbs as it hit the ground, but that was alright. There were many things that a drone had to put up with, and it was still learning to be a proper bitch. This would happen for a time before it got everything right.

Drone-Bitch looked up, only to get the hand signal to roll over. It did as it was told, laying on its back, its legs and arms spread out to the side. Its cock throbbed hard, as it had done for the last...how long, now? It didn't know, but it had to have been hours, so long that it felt as if its cock would never go soft again.

Perhaps it wouldn't. There were a great many things wrong with its cock. It would not use it to fuck others. The pointless little rubber shaft was just there to be a testament to the greater virility of the bear over the drone, to show that Mr. Gray was the better man, and that it was always aroused to be in the service of the great and powerful bear.

As its cock throbbed at the thoughts, Mr. Gray stood over the drone, one polished shoe coming off the floor. Drone-Bitch stuck out its tongue, ready to serve as a doormat, but the bear shook his head.

"Not like that."

"Owner?"

It was curious for a moment. Its mouth was bound, gagged open, tongue kept displaced. How was it talking? There was no clear answer, but there seemed to be some way for it to happen. Perhaps there was something that the symbiote was doing to facilitate the speech. It didn't matter.

"I don't want you to clean me. Yet."

"What may this drone do?"

"You may humiliate yourself."

The bear stepped down, not on its face, but further down, near its -

"Mmmph."

A soft groan escaped Drone-Bitch's mouth as the pressure reminded it that it was still a living being, and that, like all living beings, there were certain types of relief that it did require. In this case, it was a reminder that it hadn't been allowed to urinate for the past sixteen hours, and that there was a great deal of pressure in its bladder. It huffed, panting through the gag in its mouth, and its cock throbbed that much harder.

"Owner..."

"You will release."

Release. In the suit. Covering itself with all the pent-up urine that had been held back all night. It would mix with the sweat and other stains inside the suit, and the symbiote rippled in pleasure all around its body. The creature wanted the emissions of Drone-Bitch for its sustenance, the drone thought, but that was still -

Another bit of pressure, harder, that shoe digging into its side and making it all the harder to resist. The hard-on between its legs grew stiffer still, and the little bubble of rubber symbiote over the tip seemed to balloon slightly. Was it already releasing? Was some hint of urine - piss, the near-dead mind of Crypt'Lisk interjected - already sliding out, already flooding the suit?

Apparently, more training was needed, for there was a swell of humiliation through Drone-Bitch at the idea of pissing itself, even at the command of its owner. It shivered, tensing up, trying to hold back from the command, but there was little that it could do.

As the bear leaned into the step that little bit further, adding that little bit more weight into the stance that he held, there was nothing that Drone-Bitch could do. It let out a little squirt, then a bit more, and a bit more besides. The heated flow ran down the bubble at the tip of its shaft, soaking its cock first, then its slit. The warmth spread along its belly and down between its legs, running over its ass cheeks and then down along its thighs. The feeling of warmth, knowing what it was, only made it that much more humiliating as it gradually covered Drone-Bitch's entire body below the neck.

It was a thin layer, yes, but it was still there, and the tightness of the suit meant that the smell was dragged up to its nose, and there was no denying that it reeked. The smell of cum, of sweat, of rat and bear and so many other things, continued to assault its senses. Mr. Gray pressed down more firmly still, and the drone finally gave in.

"Mmmmmmph..."

The pressure and pleasure of release was humiliating. It could feel the slow deflation of its bladder, as well as the shivering tension of every pulsing blast of urine filling the crotch of the suit. For a few seconds, the rubber shaft poking out from between its legs looked fatter, but the bear's shoe shifted position, pushing down on its cock. It deflated, sending the urine flow through the suit again, splashing, wet, and so hot.

The scent was so bitter, and acrid, and it was demeaning beyond anything that Drone-Bitch had ever experienced before. It stared straight ahead, mind shattering further still, breaking down as the bear leaned over it. The drone looked up at its Owner, unable to look away as the bear shook his head.

"You're still holding out, I see."

"I am sorry, Owner. There are bugs in my programming."

"Then I will have to continue exterminating them."

"Sorry, Owner."

"On the table."

Drone-Bitch did as it was told, climbing back on the table without a word. The hard-light restraints turned on again, binding it on its back and leaving it facing towards the hypno-screen that came back down. Mr. Gray loomed over it, patting its head.

"You will learn."

"Yes, Owner."

"Learn, and forget, and be born anew."

"Yes, Owner."

It remained beneath the screen for some time, and the images bombarding its mind slowly took away the shame and humiliation that came with being used as a toilet, or for using its own suit that way. Certain things would still be off-limits for Drone-Bitch - after all, Owner didn't wish it to be a sewer, just a Bitch - but there were going to be new standards, things that it had to learn to allow and go along with. Otherwise, there would be little point in allowing itself to serve and be owned.

It forgot the shame of being made to urinate on itself.

It forgot the shame of being used as a urinal.

It forgot the shame of being seen as marked.

It forgot so many things, and was made to learn new ones. It learned how to be a good Drone-Bitch, how to hike its legs and show off as it filled its cock sock between its legs. It learned how to stand and present its mouth, how to keep its head tilted back so that the urine would collect in its mouth before being swallowed, so that everyone could see just how good a bitch it was.

It learned many things, and when Mr. Gray came back to see what it could do, Drone-Bitch was as eager as a Bitch could be while still being a good, controlled drone.

When it was pointed to the floor, Drone-Bitch hopped down with greater grace than before, and when it was told to do what it had done before, it obeyed without hesitation, hiking its leg and letting loose. The warmth around its cock was a nice feeling, something that sent a shiver down its spine, but in a good way. A little humiliation, a little reminder of what it was, but never enough to make it think twice about doing something so demeaning. Its Owner smiled at it, nodding and patting it on the head.

"Much better."

"Thank you, Owner."

"Now, open your mouth."

Drone-Bitch did, and did it eagerly, exposing its tongue as it tilted its head back. The gag had disappeared some time ago, during the last session of hypnosis. It allowed its mouth to hang open, tongue out, and the bear pulled his cock free, dragging it back and forth along the snake's forked tongue. The taste of sweat and old pre-cum was enough to arouse the drone, as much as the drone could be aroused at all, and it offered its mouth more fully, pressing forward with the eagerness of a dog waiting for its treat.

It came with a rush.

The warmth was different to the feeling of cum on its mouth and tongue, something that it remembered from the warehouses. Drone-Bitch looked back at the free being that had been used that way and could hardly believe the lack of skill back then, but now? Now, it was better trained. It lifted its tongue slightly, helping to direct the urine flow across the inside of its mouth, allowing it to spray along the inside of its cheeks, over its tongue, and right towards the back of its throat. The snake drone held its breath, Drone-Bitch closing off its lungs as it tasted the acrid, bitter taste of the Owner's urine.

It was something that should have been utterly humiliating, and true, there was an edge of humiliation to it, something that stung and left the drone feeling lower, but that sting departed quickly. It was lower than the Owner, after all, and it was providing a useful service. Drones did what they were commanded, after all.

The hiss of the flowing urine continued, flowing over its tongue, soon completely submerging the inside of its mouth. Drone-Bitch held the fluid in its mouth for as long as it could, all but drowning in it for a few seconds before the Owner nodded. Drone-Bitch swallowed it all, feeling the heat going down its throat and into its stomach. The taste was terrible, but it went along with it, doing, as ever, what it was told.

"Good. Very good."

"Thank you, Owner."

"You understand your place?"

"I understand, Owner."

"You said that last time."

"I have been educated, Owner."

"Show me."

"How, Owner?"

Mr. Gray snapped his fingers. Four other employees stepped through the door, each one someone from the debugging room upstairs. They had been its coworkers, people that it had enjoyed some time with during lunch here and there. Nobody that it knew terribly well due to its work out of the building and its vigilante habits, but enough to know that they would recognize it, even in this form.

They gasped.

They stared.

They pointed.

And...and Drone-Bitch just stood there, enduring it, not shying away, not hiding, not trying to make excuses. Instead, it turned its attention to the Owner, bowing its head a second time before asking the only appropriate question.

"What are your commands, Owner?"

The snake drone knew, somewhere, deep down, that this was the end. There was no holding back any longer. The Owner had just shattered any chance of any coming back from what had happened to it. Bringing employees down to witness something that they had no right to see meant that Mr. Gray had ways of erasing the memories of those that saw things that he didn't want them to see. Or at least, things that he didn't want them to remember. Even if the other employees here happened to be the most loyal creatures and cretins that he could find, they would leave the lab with no memory of having been there, and no memory of the drone that they had seen that had once been their coworker.

Nobody would find Drone-Bitch. No-one would fix it. This was its life now, and there was no way for that to change.

Mr. Gray nodded, looking at the employees. They were shocked, but some were aroused. Half of them, at least. The others were edging toward the door, and Drone-Bitch imagined that those two would be the ones that would find themselves in the lab as something more than observers in the future.

For now, however, they were a captive audience. Mr. Gray nodded, gesturing for Drone-Bitch to turn around. Drone-Bitch did just that, lowering its head to the floor, raising its ass as much as its stunted limbs allowed for it to do that. The bear knelt behind it, slapping that fat, hardening cock against its rubber-clad cheeks.

The symbiote pulled away, exposing its hole. Without the tightening effect of the symbiote, or the plug that it had shrunk and pulled out, Drone-Bitch was back to being a loose, open, gaping thing back there. It stared straight ahead, unable to do anything else as the bear slapped his cock against that hole once, twice, three times, each impact making it feel more aroused, more eager to be of use, to be put to use before the other colleagues and coworkers, so that they could see what a true drone could do.

As the thick head lined up with its hole, Drone-Bitch stared straight ahead. Its eyes were blank, mouth closed, completely empty of thought. There was no need for a drone to think. There was no need for it to feel anything. And yet, it felt something.

It felt...pride. Pride in being a good drone. Pride in taking orders and executing them well. It was a dull feeling, a faint feeling, something so distant that it might as well not have been there in the first place, but it was nonetheless present and no less powerful for that. It did not smile, but it felt content to know that it was chosen for this purpose.

And then -

Squelch.

POP!

There was no moaning from the drone, no sudden sounds that would have given it the illusion of being a real person again, for of course, it was no such thing. But it did arch its back, so far as it could, and took more of that thick bear cock down its asshole.

"Holy..."

"That...that's Crypt, isn't it?"

"Mr. Lisk? Mr. Lisk, why are you..."

They didn't question Mr. Gray, who they probably still believed was just Mr. Vult. No, no, they didn't question the bear, as nobody questioned the bear. No, they just questioned the drone, the one that could not answer questions.

Maybe they didn't want answers to their questions. Maybe they just wanted to ask and be puzzled, think that it was just a thing that had happened rather than something that might happen to them. Maybe they were too shocked to think themselves, and wanted someone else to do their thinking for them.

From the fact that they had been brought down here in the first place, Drone-Bitch imagined that such a fate was not far off for them, at least for those that were trying to run away, or back away from the demonstration.

It stood there, passively, taking that cock again and again. It was large enough that it could feel the bulge beneath it, could feel the way that it stretched its stomach and the symbiote suit around it. Drone-Bitch stared straight ahead, a smile in its mind even though it didn't show in the body. In, out, in, out, each time taking that shaft a little bit further, each time taking it closer and clsoer to the balls until it was all the way inside. Drone-Bitch sighed as the balls finally tapped against its ass, feeling the warmth and the heat from it and enjoying it all the more.

"Cock taken, Owner," it said.

"Good..."

"Shall this drone ride?"

"No, you will be fucked."

"Mr. Vult -"

The employee that dared speak up was seized by the security drones around the room, the various mechanical devices lunging for the unlucky wolf. He was pulled off his feet and dragged to one of the other experiment tables, pinned in place with more of the hard-light bands. The other employees gasped, their eyes wide as they saw their coworker utterly pinned, one of the hypno-screens coming down already.

Mr. Gray looked at them, his eyebrow cocked. Drone-Bitch watched them, and saw that the two that had been aroused were still aroused, and the one that had been afraid was steeling his nerves, trying not to make himself a target.

"If there are no further questions..."

The bear's statement evoked no response. They just stood there, watching as their boss did things that were utterly unspeakable, immoral, and wrong on company time. Drone-Bitch had witnesses to the breaking in that it suffered through, and they didn't do a thing.

It was to be expected. Drone-Bitch did not have rights, and one did not stand up for the sake of property, merely for the sake of free beings. Clearly, it was no such thing. Not anymore.

And as Mr. Gray started fucking its ass once more, it submitted to the pleasures of being rutted. There was something there, after all, though it was nothing compared to the pleasures of being obedient, submissive, and well-trained. It was nothing compared to the pleasure that came from the pride of being a good drone.

Drone-Bitch turned out to be mostly correct. Three of the employees brought down to witness its breaking were transformed and modified into drones, as well. They were sold off to other contacts of Mr. Gray's, ensuring that the witnesses to the bear's depravities were never able to talk about what they had seen. The one remaining - one of the more aroused ones - was transferred to the research labs, never to see the light of day again. Not that the lion in question complained; he seemed to rather enjoy his new job, even if it meant giving up a few mental freedoms.

As for Drone-Bitch, it was transferred to the mid-levels of the building. SaefSec still had to keep operating, after all, and Mr. Gray was well aware of the fact that there were other frustrations that built up among his employees. For eight hours of the day, Drone-Bitch was installed on the mid-level bathrooms, plugged into the wall of the far stall for convenient use of his ass. It was a 'statement' by some of the coworkers that had connections, the rumor mill went, and the ass on display was something on-offer for those that were willing to be a bit more 'punk' around the company.

Of course, those rumors were circulated by Mr. Gray himself and the employees most loyal to him. Those that came to use Drone-Bitch's ass were captured on camera, and then subsequently moved to less damaging positions around the company, if they were not outright traded on the less legal networks that Mr. Gray oversaw.

Drone-Bitch didn't really care how it was used, so long as it was used regularly. It spent its days getting ass-fucked and enjoying it, pre-lubed hole and eager symbiote ensuring that it was a smooth ride for all involved, and those that came to use it were regularly walking away with a tremble in their legs and a shiver down their spine, their balls much-lightened and their heads clearer. Or at least, less fogged by the constant lust and frustration that working at SaefSec started to inspire.

There was a feeling of pride to the process, too, something that Drone-Bitch clung to on the darker days when it heard the way that the coworkers spoke of Crypt'Lisk over the successive weeks. Some missed the snake, while others were happy to see the debugger gone. Some spoke of the 'good little drone' finally getting a head on his shoulders and heading off for greener pastures, and some spoke of the way that he had disappeared without a word, and how it might mean something more sinister.

Drone-Bitch made sure to report the last ones in particular to Mr. Gray, knowing that its Owner needed to handle those that were a little more suspicious of the way that things were run around the company. No need for that to get out of hand, after all.

Every day, after the eight hours hanging in the bathroom wall, Drone-Bitch was taken out by the security drones and carried through the maintenance tunnels, always out of sight, always where nobody could notice the strange, black-wrapped snake being transported through the building. They took him to the upper levels again, back to Mr. Gray's office, and the bear was always seated at his desk, waiting. Sometimes there would be some outsider making a deal with him, sometimes he'd be alone, but either way, what happened next was always the same.

Drone-Bitch would be laid out on the desk, mouth facing its Owner, and its mouth would be filled with cock. Sometimes, there'd be a little foreplay of musk-smearing on its face, but more often than not, it would be used hard right from the get-go, its owner's cock slamming in and out, in and out, always rutting its mouth and ensuring that there was no question of where the drone belonged.

If there was someone else, then the other person would be allowed to use Drone-Bitch's ass, a sexual bribe for the Owner's dealings. Sometimes it was good, sometimes it was just a distraction from what was going on up at its mouth, but either way, Drone-Bitch always went with it, happily used, happily subservient to whatever need that its owner had for it.

Today, it was a one-off, just sucking off the Owner, giving him the pleasure that he deserved after a long day of work. Drone-Bitch sucked it right down to the hilt, feeling the balls against its chin, feeling the throbbing deep down in its throat. There was the constant flow of pre-cum, of course, as well as the heat that came from that massive shaft lodged so far down its neck. There were times when it was all but convinced that the Owner's cock was down in its stomach, punching down to the point of being able to touch its stomach juices, and somehow not getting hurt from it.

In, out, in, out, always getting rougher, always getting faster. The bear held its head, making sure that Drone-Bitch never moved - not that it would - and worked himself into a frenzy. In, out, in, out, controlled, but fast, a jackhammer of a pace that utterly obliterated any resistance before it.

As ever, it ended with the drone getting a mouthful of cum and a great deal of urine to wash down the flood of seed. The combined mouthfuls went right to its stomach, and it rested there like a heavy weight. The bear patted its head, then sat down, looking down at Drone-Bitch with a small chuckle.

"It seems that you are effectively broken."

"I am, Owner."

"And have you been satisfied?"

"A good drone is satisfied following its Owner's orders."

"And are you?"

"I am a good drone."

"Say it again."

"I am a good drone."

"Again."

"I am a good drone."

And Drone-Bitch was. It had learned that it was a good drone, a happy drone, a proud drone. It did what it was told, and it did it well. Just as it had always done. It was the only worthwhile remnant of Crypt'Lisk, the part that had learned how to follow orders and do its tasks well. And it would continue to do that.

Drone-Bitch received another head-pat, and it lowered its head in gratitude. The bear nodded.

"A few more weeks of wall-duty should root out the rest of the malcontents in the company. Then you will be given new tasks."

A free man might have asked what those tasks would be, but it was a drone. There was no need to ask. It would not need to know until the time came what its tasks were to be.

Mr. Gray smiled.

"Good...you have learned."

The End

Summary: Crypt'Lisk's breaking is finalized, and the new fate of the new drone is sealed.

Tags: M/solo, M/M, Anal, Oral, Blowjob, Facefucking, Watersports, Humiliation, Piss Drinking, Pissing Self, Symbiote, Mind Control, Drone, Orgasm, Cum, Exhibitionism, Domination,