FSE

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Please do not read if you are under 18! The following contains mature content not suited for general audiences. You have been warned.

Fur meets a very breathtaking woman at a bar and decides to shoot his shot, not knowing the dangers that may await him...

TRIGGER WARNING! Contains: Dronification, overstimulation, edging, orgasm control, latex, bondage, identity loss, memory play, hypnosis, non-consensual, assimilation, nullification

Fur and Prism are original characters owned by Covfefur.

By PseudonymousUmbreon. If you wish to use or reference my work and/or my characters, please contact me first.

*****

Just Trust Me

Commission for Covfefur

God, this job. If he was being honest, Fur was in it for the money. Not that the pay was even that good, but what were his alternatives? Some fast food place? Fuck no. The day he submits himself to some entitled Karen's demands is the day he loses all sense of pride. At least his coworkers were nice.

Navigating the streets completely on autopilot, Fur found himself in front of one of his favorite bars, the Cerveza de Luna. A crescent moon outlined in bright yellow neon wires fizzled above the door, never quite off but never quite on either. The moon hugged an overflowing glass of beer that spilled foam over the surface of the moon, where the white bubbles merged with the yellow craters that dotted the crescent in varying degrees of brightness. Predictably, the faded glass windows showed the bar was packed to the brim with people; despite the bar's age, it had proven for years that it wouldn't be torn down until it was truly on its last limb, and the people of the city were intent on extending its lifespan for as long as possible.

With a hint of smile on his face, Fur pulled the door open, with some effort and audible protest from the door that was immediately drowned out by the instant cacophony of the bar's patrons layered on top of the never-ending Latin-themed music that kept the bar from experiencing any semblance of silence. The blue fox-serval slipped through the crowd and made his way to the bar, miraculously spotting a couple open seats against the back wall of the bar. As if by magic, the bartender materialized in front of him as soon as he sat down-an average height, muscular white tiger who seemed to have a telepathic connection to their customers. They smirked upon seeing Fur and started making Fur's usual order before he could ask for a Fuego Líquido on the rocks.

"Come here often?"

The voice had originated from Fur's blind spot on the left of him, just barely outside of his peripheral vision that Fur had somehow not noticed the otherwise literally dazzling cat sitting beside him. Her fur was a bright enough white that she seemed to be the source of the dim light in the room, dotted with triangle-shaped patches of reds, blues, yellows, and every color in between. In stark contrast was the dress she wore, black as night, so that she looked like an eclipse in front of a rainbow. The dress barely concealed an eagerly swishing shark tail and would have likely done a better job had she not been sitting down.

To say the cat-shark had captured Fur's attention was an understatement; it took Fur's Fuego Líquido clinking against his arm to make him realize he'd been staring. He swallowed and buried his face in his drink to hide his awkward blush.

Okay Fur. There's a cute girl sitting next to you, and she just caught you staring at her. This is your chance, don't fuck this up.

Unfortunately, his inner pep-talk did nothing to better the hoarse, "H-hey," that escaped his maw. He cursed himself. Was that the best he could do?

The cat giggled. "Name's Prism. You are?"

"Fur," the fox managed, taking another sip of his drink to avoid having to say anything further.

"Well? Do you?" Prism looked at him expectantly.

Fur blinked. "I... what?" He realized he had gotten lost staring at her fur again. It was... needlessly mesmerizing.

"Come here often. You never answered my question." She shifted, allowing her dress to flutter against her ankles. Her fur seemed to shimmer in response.

"Oh. Uh, yeah." Pull it together, you idiot!

Prism raised an eyebrow. "Do you now? I've never seen someone as cute as you here before..." Fur blushed. "I'd certainly remember meeting you." She smirked. Fur could have sworn she'd winked, but he wasn't sure.

"Y-you think I'm, uh, cute?" Was the Fuego Líquido always this hot? "I, uh, think I'd remember meeting you, uh, hottie." So smooth, you fucking simp.

Prism snorted at that one. "Well! Someone's direct. I like it..." She ran a claw down the side of Fur's face. He shuddered in response. "What if we went back to my place and... had a bit of fun? I think that would be nice, don't you?"

"B-but... I barely know you," Fur muttered. "B-besides, I don't-"

Prism cut him off, putting a finger to his lips. "Do you trust me?" Fur could have sworn her eyes had flashed a bright yellow, but he stayed silent and nodded, like he felt he should. "Don't worry about that, cutie. Just follow me. We'll have tons of fun together. You can trust me." Fur opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Prism shushed him again, the yellow flash in her eyes only slightly registering this time. "You know you want to. C'mon. Let's go."

Fur wordlessly followed Prism out of the bar. In any normal circumstance, Fur would have told her off for the dog-like manner in which she was treating him, but strangely, he couldn't bring himself to care enough to say anything. Besides, Prism wanted him to stay silent.

It took until they reached a sleek black limousine waiting outside the Cerveza de Luna for Fur to break through his veil of silence. "P-Prism," he started.

Prism arched an eyebrow, seeming more mildly amused than anything. "Yes, cutie?"

Another flash of yellow instantly pushed away Fur's doubts. It would be okay. Just go with Prism. He could trust her.

Prism cleared her throat. "Did you want something, cutie? Just tell me, you can trust me."

Did he want something? Fur didn't think so, and he shook his head. Just stay silent, like Prism wants. Everything would be okay. Prism nodded, apparently satisfied, and motioned for Fur to get into the car. He obeyed, seeing no reason not to. He could trust her.

As Fur waited for Prism in the back seat, the fog that had been creeping into his brain slowly started to clear. There he was, in the back of some apparently rich girl's car-why was he second-guessing himself so much? Sure, she was very forward, but... gods, she was pretty, wasn't she? There was no way he could pass up this chance to-

The door opened, and Prism slipped inside. Instantly, Fur's thoughts came to a grinding halt. A shy grin accompanied a deep red blush on his face. "H-hey," he managed, his throat dry as a desert.

"Hey, cutie." There was that flash of yellow again. Fur was sure it was there this time, but... he didn't mind one way or another. It was nice. Pretty. Arousing, even.

W-wait, that wasn't right... A-arousing..?

Another flash of yellow convinced him it was okay. It was okay to feel aroused by the flashes of yellow. It was natural...

Fur was only acutely aware of his clothes being removed as the limousine sped off to a destination Fur couldn't bother to ask about. He was with Prism, and that meant he was safe, and that meant he didn't need clothes. Prism would keep him safe. He could trust her. She got close to him, intimately close, and found her touch electrifying. Every part of him seemed to have been turned into pleasure centers by the yellow flashes of light that kept him wonderfully docile. His cock sprung to life, but Prism didn't touch it, as much as Fur may have wanted her to.

Prism flashed him a seductive smile. "Do you know where we're going?"

Fur only barely processed the question. "W-wuh..?"

"We're going to my home, cutie. Or rather, my basement." As if to prevent him from thinking about what that could possibly mean, the door of the limousine opened. Had they stopped? Fur groggily stepped out of the car and tried to take in his surroundings. There was... some machine that he could only guess the purpose of. Another flash of yellow from Prism stopped him from asking. It was okay. He could trust her.

Prism led Fur over to the machine. "Welcome to your new home. I hope you don't mind if I skip the tour, you won't remember it anyway." She grinned, showing her full set of horribly sharp shark teeth. Fur would have felt threatened, but this was Prism. He could trust her. "Step into the latex chamber, if you please. And put this on."

She handed him a nondescript black visor with a thick elastic strap. Part of him wanted to ask Prism what the visor was for, but... he could trust her.

Couldn't he?

He slipped the visor on, feeling the elastic snap against the back of his head with a deafening crack. He was suddenly very dizzy and lightheaded. The world was darker now, as if he was viewing everything through a pair of sunglasses, his vision restricted to whatever was right in front of him. Prism was standing at a console that was connected to a large metal chamber big enough for any regular-sized anthro to fit inside. An opening sat at the top, connected via a tube to a clear container of swirling black liquid. Fur shook his head to try to clear it. What was going on? And why was he naked?

"Hey. I said, in the chamber! That's not a difficult command to-" Prism looked up, apparently suddenly realizing Fur was there. "Note to self: apply the visor myself next time, so this stops happening." She slammed a paw on a button decorated with an enticing yellow and black swirl pattern.

Wait, wh-

Fur's vision exploded with a bumblebee-patterned swirl that took up his entire field of view. He recognized these colors, only slightly aware of how much trouble he was suddenly in. The little part of him that yelled at him to run slowly died out as he quickly became fascinated by the black and yellow flashes of light. He could trust these colors. They knew what was best for him. They wouldn't lead him wrong.

"Now. In the chamber."

Despite being blinded by the endlessly swirling spiral that had become his whole world, he instinctively navigated to where the chamber was. Why did he ever doubt Prism and her wonderful, beautiful, captivating colors? He could trust her. Everything was right with the world.

"That's better."

Fur heard the chamber door slam in front of him and the machine rumbling to life. Every part of him was vibrating, especially his cock, but for some reason he decided he liked that feeling. The spiral told him he was going to undergo a great change, and he was excited.

Something wrapped around Fur's cock and started pumping it steadily, not that that stopped him from already being on the edge. He shuddered, letting himself ride the edge and knowing, somehow, he shouldn't cum. No, he couldn't cum. Prism said so, and he trusted her. So he let the machine edge him, and he'd be damned if he didn't admit he enjoyed it.

Meanwhile, the spiral started giving him words to internalize. Words like "obedient," "mindless," "blank," "horny," and his favorite, "drone." He liked the words so much he started saying them out loud, though maybe it was Prism or the spiral telling him to do it. Regardless, he was intent on repeating the words. It was as if the more he said them, the more they applied to him.

A sucking sound came from right above Fur, and suddenly he was hit with an incredibly cold, slow moving liquid that began to ooze over him. It was frigid, but somehow not unpleasant. In fact... it was arousing, somehow. He knew it was important to stay still, to let the liquid wash over him, and waited as he felt it slowly fill up the chamber around him.

"Drone," the spiral told him. "Drone," Fur repeated. That was a nice word. He was obedient. He was mindless. He was blank. He was horny. And soon, he would be a drone. That sounded perfect to him. The liquid creeped its way up his legs, numbing them, virtually robbing them of all feeling.

It was incredibly pleasurable, to feel his body slowly becoming useless to him. The liquid moved up his waist, but due to the fleshlight-like machine on his cock, didn't cover his genital area. What it did do, however, was enter his asshole, instantly plugging him up with a tight seal that Fur knew would never be removed. Then, up to his torso, stripping away any definition given to him by his nipples, rendering his arms pointless as the liquid drowned him in this perfect feeling of... nothing.

Nothing. He could feel nothing, from his neck down, save for his cock, which felt so good. The liquid then covered his head. The world went silent as it flowed into his ears, and his sense of smell disappeared as it filled his nostrils. Miraculously, he could still breathe, but his breathing was slowed. He only needed to keep the body alive. The only thing he could sense now was the spiral that had become everything he knew, and the pleasure being given to his cock.

He could feel the liquid inside him, inside his obedient, mindless, blank, horny body. He was almost a drone. He could feel it, though he could no longer say the word, that was what he wanted more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life. How miserable he'd been before this moment. Now he didn't even have to remember that life he used to lead.

And remember he wouldn't. He felt the liquid enter his brain and begin to take him over completely, and Fur fully welcomed it in. Just as it had numbed his body before, it began numbing his mind.

His memories were the first to go. He remembered only this moment, here and now. He remembered being born to serve, and that was it. Anything else became a fleeting glimpse that would become disregarded in his mind.

Next were his emotions. He would need to feel nothing other than obedience and horniness. Those were the only emotions that mattered now. There was no happiness, no sadness, no calm, not fear. Only horny obedience. How he would be forever.

His personality, of course, also had to disappear. He had no need for individuality. He was created to be a carbon copy of every other drone, not something as disgustingly unique as a person. That could never have been him.

And throughout this process, his name disappeared too. He was a drone. He had no use for a name, he was just... a drone. Drones have no names. He never had one to begin with.

The drone was just a drone.

It had become a horny, obedient drone.

And that was all it ever had been.

The machine on the drone's cock pulsed once, twice, thrice, and it came, and as the machine withdrew, the liquid in its containment covered the last remaining exposed area of its body. Its cock went completely flaccid and fused with the substance, leaving a round bulge of solid material in its place. The rest of its body then followed suit until it was pure solid latex-a perfect, unthinking object.

The capsule around the drone finally slowed to a stop as the excess liquid in the tank drained out through the floor. The door opened with a satisfying hisssssss, and the drone stepped mechanically out into the open air of its Owner's basement. With every step, its latex body squeaked as it adjusted to the movement. And of course, it teased its useless bulge obediently. After all, it was a good drone. And a good drone should always stay horny for its Owner. It could trust its Owner.

Its Owner looked at it proudly. She was so magnificent, so powerful, standing over it like this. The drone couldn't help but give its null-bulge an extra-tight squeeze at the sight of its Owner. It hoped She would command it, just so it could feel the pleasure of obeying its Owner.

Its Owner strode up to it, confident as always, and examined its body thoroughly. She seemed satisfied, which gave the drone another lovely rush of pleasure-its Owner was pleased! After She had finished Her inspection, She faced it with a look of seriousness on Her face.

"What's your name?" its Owner asked.

A trivial question the drone knew She knew the answer to. It was sure this was a test. "It has no name. It is a drone. Drones do not need names." The drone's voice was wonderfully monotone, completely void of any personality-how it should be.

"And what is your purpose?"

Another test question. This one was even easier. The drone bowed and squeezed its bulge tightly, as it knew it should. "Its purpose is to obey you without question, to bring its Owner pleasure, to remain horny at all times, and to serve its Owner for its entire existence."

Its Owner smiled. "Good drone."

The pleasure from those two words alone was like an orgasm-or it would be, if it knew what one felt like.