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Dr. Remi'ke bid his last patient of the afternoon goodbye. The vixen had the usual look of those who had just experienced their first dose of his therapy: a slightly glazed-over look of blissful happiness mixed with a bit of mild surprise at the late hour. But once she was out of sight, the orca collapsed at his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. He waited a few minutes for the stress of the day to dissipate before heading to the back of the clinic, into the adjoining, much more secure facility. Remi'ke was happy to see a dark brown dragon entering the security checkpoint before him.

"Oh, hello, Dr. Remi'ke," the dragon said, looking sheepishly behind himself before swiping his card and slipping through the door.

Remi'ke followed a moment later. "Hello, Kevin."

The dragon was a curious one. He had the type of body that most mammals would require a lifetime of gym memberships to achieve, and yet, Kevin (not his real name, just the most pronounceable approximation) was eternally shy even after weeks of rigorous therapy. He was normally a full foot taller than Remi'ke's considerable orca bulk, or he would be if he didn't slouch so badly that his horns barely crested past the height of Remi'ke's head. His wings were always furled tight against his back and his tail tucked so far between his legs he almost tickled his own belly with the tip. Although Remi'ke's training and that of the other doctors had successfully brainwashed the dragon to the point where he accepted being a part-time drone as a perfectly natural thing still they could not make the dragon more confident.

The dragon rubbed a horn shyly. "Would you help my processing today, doctor?"

Remi'ke felt an urge to head up to the break room, see if there were any cookies left behind, and drown himself in cups of cheap yet soothing tea, but he glanced at the shapely curve of Kevin's shoulders and thought better of it. "I'd be delighted to. Come right on in." Remi'ke held open a door to one of the seemingly nondescript rooms that lined the hallway. While from the outside, all one could see was an ordinary door, the interior housed several more interesting items. There were top-of-the-line medical diagnostic scanners, an entire wall filled with glass-doored cabinets containing sex toys above a row of storage lockers, a few benches and tables in the room with various medical or sexual purposes, and a short dais in one corner with a large number of mechanics sprouting from the base.

While Remi'ke only loosened his tie a touch, Kevin was quietly stripping down, folding his clothes and placing them in a locker without paying much attention to the actions he was taking. Remi'ke decided to help him with the next step and picked out a thick canine dildo from the cabinets, giving it a generous coating of lube and extra dollop at the tip before setting it down on one of the low benches.

When Kevin turned and saw the toy, his cheeks gained a rather delightful blush (or so Remi'ke felt). "Isn't that a bit larger than my usual, doctor?"

"No, Kevin, that's the usual size for you." He patted the bench. "Come take a seat."

The dragon, unlike Remi'ke, had an external sheath, and so the orca could watch the lizard's arousal start to grow as he approached the toy he had been so well trained on. Although still shy, Kevin no longer made to hide himself. In fact, he put on a small show at the toy, taking a moment to grind the tip of the toy against his pucker and then give a gasp as the head of it sank inside of him. Then the shyness seemed to return and he folded his arms in front of himself as if not sure what to do with them.

Dr. Remi'ke reached out and patted the dragon's brown shoulder. The scales of the dragon shifted from a light tan in the front to a dusty brown in the back, fading through a flickering iridescence. They, the orca theorized, were partly the source of the dragon's shyness. They attracted a lot of attention that he didn't feel he deserved. "Remember, Kevin," the orca said. "It feels good to sink."

"It feels good to sink," the dragon repeated, sliding a touch deeper onto the toy. His voice already had a touch of the monotone lilt of a drone. His shaft reacted to the trigger phrase by pushing out immediately into the air.

"Sinking onto the toy, sinking into trance," Remi'ke said. "The deeper you sink, the harder it is to think."

"It feels good to sink. It feels good not to think." The two lines combined to form a mantra as the dragon's knees bent and more of the dildo slid inside him. It seemed to hit a pleasant spot as the dragon's own shaft began to throb with each strain of his muscles.

Remi'ke smiled. In truth, the dragon did not need any external prompting to go all the way into a full drone state, but it was fun to do this. He so rarely got to experience this side of the droning process. "As you sink, you feel yourself filling up with all the commands and programming of a drone."

"It feels good to sink... not to think... to be a drone."

The toy had slid almost completely inside the dragon-drone-to-be. Remi'ke patted the thickly muscled neck of the dragon. "Take the knot in. You know once you do the last of your resistance and thoughts will fade."

It wasn't that easy. The dragon was practiced, not loose. And the toy was girthy. Of course, that made the droning process even easier. Kevin had to work for what he wanted; he had to desire it. And that strengthened his bond to his programming.

"You can do it," Dr. Remi'ke cooed. "All you need to do is let go of yourself. Let go of your thoughts. Let go of your free will. And let the programming take full control of your mind."

As the dragon's conscious self faded, so did his self-consciousness. Kevin's thrusts down against the knot became more and more lewd, more and more provocative: tail raised high, knees spread wide, swaying a bit from side to side as he slid down the slick length. All the while his own length began to drip needily, neglected between his thighs.

Then with a pop he worked the knot in. Kevin's back arched and his mouth opened to gasp. But the motion never completed. The knot sealed away the last of Kevin's conscious mind, and drones had no need of arching or gasping, unless they were programmed to do so.

Dr. Remi'ke waved his hands in front of the dragon's face a few times, but the lizard did not so much as blink.

"Drone KVN0927 activate," Dr. Remi'ke said in a loud, clear voice.

The dragon jumped to its feet, pulling the dildo-turned-plug off the table with a wet schlopping sound. The posture adopted by the drone was entirely different from the dragon who had walked through the door only a few short minutes ago. The drone stood with its back straight and head raised proud, coming to 7 feet, 2 inches, not counting the tips of its horns. The wings hung loose at its side, increasing the drone's width a little. Its tail was raised behind its back. Its stance was wide and assertive. And even its hips were angled and pushed forward to show its shaft prominently.

"Very good," Dr. Remi'ke said, although the drone paid no attention to his words. "Let's start step two then. Into the dresser."

The dresser was what he and the other doctors jokingly referred to the dais in the corner as. The drone marched forward, stepped onto the dais, and did a quick turn on the balls of its feet. The machinery at the base hummed to life, and a dozen small arms swayed and weaved about the dragon's feet. They began to coat the dragon from the feet up in a skin-tight coating of shiny black latex. The process was almost hypnotizing between the delicate dance of the arms and the slow coating of the dragon's iridescent brown and tan scales with a plain black. The orca suppressed a chuckle as the arms got to the dragon's wingtips and seemed to stall momentarily as the machinery realized how big the dragon was. Kevin's size pushed the device to its limits.

The dragon's latex suit was different from the typical drone suit in two ways.

First, male drones typically had their shafts half-hard and placed in a sheath of extra-thick latex that dulled the sense of touch and prevented climax; however, Kevin was allowed to have his shaft erect with only a skin-thin layer around it. The tip was open to allow a climax to escape. This was all done because Kevin, or rather KVN0927, was a prototype "domdrone," which could be assertive and controlling within the strictures of its programming and could initiate penetration and sex.

Second, the layer of latex stopped at the drone's neck. A separate mask lowered from the ceiling and was slid over the drone's unmoving and unresisting head. It was a sculpted gasmask, complete with holes for the dragon's horns. As it slid into place, the tone of the dragon's breathing lowered a good octave thanks to the thick filters on either side.

"Drone prep complete. Reporting to Dr. Remi'ke for orders." The mask added a resonant mechanical grating to the usual drone monotone. It made for an effective dominant, one that made you shiver to hear its voice and worry about what would happen should you respond with "no."

However, it was still a drone and Remi'ke was in charge. He took a deep breath and said, "No special orders today, drone. Report inside for your duties." The orca waved him on and the dragon, still erect, still assertive in pose, marched to a door at the back of the room and left.

Dr. Remi'ke cleaned up the room and made sure everything was in order for the next drone to enter. He paused at a computer in the corner. It had recorded all of Kevin's vitals while he was being suited up. While the computer would have alerted him if anything was wrong, Remi'ke liked to check in on his patients personally. Everything seemed in good order. Heck, Kevin was probably healthier than Remi'ke himself.

Chuckling to himself, the orca turned to leave and gave a last glance at the room. He decided it looked a bit dusty in some corners, so made a mental note to send a drone down to clean it later.

Back in the hall, he gave a friendly to another doctor who was escorting a naked, soon-to-be-droned wolf. The doctor stopped him for some small talk about the weather and the orca quickly excused himself, moving deeper into the facility, to a break room where he collapsed into a chair while a poor quality coffee brewed behind him. (There were no tea bags whatsoever, not even the cheap yet soothing ones.) He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned under his breath. The last few days had been wearing on him. He was more irritable and having trouble sleeping, but he did not know why.

The coffee was worse than he remembered, and the artificial sweetener/creamer mixture managed to be both revolting and insipid at the same time. He felt throwing it out would be wasteful, so kept sipping and scowling as he wandered into a small, closet-like room next to the break room. There he fumbled his way through the end-of-day reports.

Before he was half-way through with the job, he heard the thudding footsteps of the dragon drone, who appeared a moment later in the doorway of the tiny room, casting a looming shadow over the orca. Dr. Remi'ke tried to compose himself. "Yes, drone? I did not send for you."

"Drone is following programming," the dragon, in its deep, echoing voice, answered. "Drone detected a 20% decrease in Dr. Remi'ke's efficiency over the last week and signs of elevated stress. Dr. Remi'ke, you are now known as slave and will submit to my will."

The orca was taken aback at first, but where others may have reacted with anger at a drone making such an audacious command (indeed any command at all), Dr. Remi'ke had great faith in the drone's programming. If the domdrone believed that the orca needed to submit, then the orca needed to submit. Besides, he was not about to pass up an opportunity to spend time with an admittedly very sexy drone. "I submit myself to your will," the orca said.

"Good," the drone said, but there was no inflection, no sign that its programming was pleased by the acknowledgement. "Slave will cease speaking unless asked a question. Slave will now follow." The dragon turned on the balls of its feet and left. With its long legs and relentless stride, Remi'ke had to jog a little to keep up.

It didn't take the orca long to figure out where they were going. The facility had a number of testing rooms, where they would determine each drone's sexual capabilities and the limits thereof. Even thinking about them brought back memories that made Remi'ke feel warm inside. The orca thought that they most closely resembled the backroom of a high class kink club: a lot of expensive furniture, thick velvet curtains hanging around, and closets filled with enough toys to make the drone preparation rooms look vanilla in comparison.

"Strip," the domdrone commanded, and Remi'ke, hearing that powerful, almost mechanical voice, squirmed a bit as he obeyed. The drone walked to a closet and pulled out a metal collar and matching cuffs, which he placed on Remi'ke the moment the orca was naked. They were tight and heavy, perfect for reinforcing that the domdrone was in charge, not Remi'ke. The dragon held the d-ring of the orca's collar in a firm grip, tugging the helpless-feeling Remi'ke forward and bending him over a bondage bench. The orca's hands were tied next to his collar at the far end of the bench, and his legs were spread wide, affixed by the ankle to the base of the bench. It left his rump feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"Slave has no further use for words," the drone intoned and pushed a ballgag into the orca's mouth, locking it tightly in place.

Remi'ke couldn't help himself. The drone, depsite its somewhat stiff and unnatural motions, was exciting him. Remi'ke only rarely bottomed and even more rarely submitted. Giving in to the domdrone felt like an adventure, like a vacation to a place he had never visited before. His shaft pushed out into the cool air of the room, immediately hard.

The drone walked behind him and a moment later the orca felt two strange items placed on either side of his shaft. He felt a tingle running through his hips that caused his muscles to clench involuntarily and realized it was an electrical toy. His shaft twitched and he could feel himself beginning to drool.

The drone eased the voltage higher and higher, stopping at a place that caused a reflexive thrusting motion each time the electricity flowed. "Is slave in pain?" the drone inquired.

Remi'ke shook his head. It tingled and throbbed, but he didn't feel hurt by it.

The timing was then adjusted until the shocks came in a steady flow. Remi'ke had just relaxed from one shock before the next came.

The domdrone stepped away and came back with a bottle of lube. A strong arm lifted Remi'ke's big tail aside, while two fingers lightly probed at his tailhole. They slicked up his entrance and massaged to loosen him up, then slid in deep and hard. The fingers worked with mechanical efficiency, pushing lube into every nook and cranny inside the orca. Remi'ke could not suppress the shiver in his spine as he thought that he was not being "lubed" so much as being "prepped for use."

The fingers were removed and, a moment later, the dragon's shaft replaced them. Remi'ke gritted his teeth against the ball in his mouth. Kevin's shaft was as large as he was, and although Remi'ke was fairly large himself, he was not of Kevin's size and not used to much entering his tailhole to begin with. The orca tried to pull away, but the bindings held him fast. The domdrone seemed not to care. It pushed forward unheedingly.

It wasn't quite as big as Remi'ke had feared, but it made him moan the entire time it entered him, leaving him feeling stretched and full. The dragon eased out and thrust in again, the passage easier this time. Remi'ke descended into a groaning, drooling mess. The initial discomfort at being stretched so far quickly gave way to the pleasure of being filled, especially when the domdrone angled his hips just right and the thick shaft drove home against the orca's prostate. His whole body shivered at that and he clenched around the dragon's shaft. The dragon responded by staying at that angle. After another slight adjustment, the dragon began thrusting in time with the shocks, the pleasure at the prostate hitting the instant his hips were compelled to thrust forward.

Remi'ke could feel his shaft throbbing and pulsing, leaving a sticky mess on the floor underneath him. By now, though, he was too far gone to care. He could feel the orgasm welling up within him.

"Slave will now be drained of seed," the domdrone calmly intoned again.

Remi'ke almost laughed at the euphemism, but was cut off from doing so by the dragon driving in deep and hard. The shocks also seemed to double in intensity. The orgasm didn't well up so much as explode out of Remi'ke, his shaft spurting and spurting again, each thrust at his prostate and shock causing another twitch of the muscles. Remi'ke shook in his bindings. The orgasm, that rhythmic muscular contraction, just kept going, forced onward by the thrusts and shocks. Remi'ke felt a burning sensation inside of himself as his already empty balls continued trying to pump out more for the insatiable, mechanical dominant.

Then it stopped just as suddenly as it began, the shocks ending and the shaft burying in deep to unload a batch of dragon cum inside him. Remi'ke hung limp against the bench. The shaft was pulled out and the fingers returned. They prodded at his prostate and churned the hot seed within him, drawing a few more weakened dribbles of seed from Remi'ke's own shaft.

Remi'ke, whose sense of time had distorted greatly in the afterglow, felt the ballgag being removed from his lips and the cuffs and collar being peeled off. "Slave's stress levels have returned to acceptable levels. Slave will return to performing his duties as Dr. Remi'ke efficiently."

The orca managed a weak smile. "I might need a few minutes to recover."

"That is acceptable," the domdrone said and it marched back to the hall, pausing for only a moment to turn out the light for the already sleeping orca.