#drone kink

[saphig-iawn]

One of the joys of turning a cutie into a drone is watching them try to call me by my name only to hear the name "Controller" come out of their mouth no matter how hard they try. Their reactions are just delicious

[cafterdark]

All kinks fall on a spectrum of Doll Kink and Drone Kink?

Cucking? Doll

Puppy? Drone

Combat Doll? Despite the name, it's Drone kink

[shadefish]

Doll Sketch Sale!

Offering a little sale!

75 Dollars for uncolored Doll Sketches

100 dollars for flat colors!

(Dolls are just funny robot people I draw alot, feel free to come with a vibe and style you would like!)

Please consider sharing!

[frogblast-the-ventcore]

You love your drone, and your drone loves you.

Your drone is very cute, with the blank faceplate and cat like ears molded on the helmet. The latex outer covering, the cat like tail - good for holding onto when testing the ergonomics, and cute in general.

They have a number - every good drone does. You helped them pick it out before you put the helmet on them the first time - yes, they're human under there. They're your partner, they have a name, that you whisper to them to say you love them, before the drone programming takes over each time.

They want this. To turn off, tune out, and trust you. So you obliged. You bought the helmet, you both chose the number - 9647 was what you picked - and you put the helmet on their head for the first time. A minute later, your partner was put under, lolled into the proper space with their favorite music tuned just right, and 9647 was activated for the first time.

Neither you nor your partner wants them to be 9647 all the time. But you're always happy to help them put on the helmet and just... stop thinking for a while. Maybe they had a rough day. Maybe they just want some fun. Maybe they just want someone to do the thinking for a while.

Of course, you're a good... Master? Owner? User? You still aren't sure of the right term. Those all imply a relationship that's not entirely what you want out of it. You didn't purchase your lovely drone 9647 to be demanding. You don't order. You request. It's much more polite. They just want to serve, want to be something you can cuddle on cold nights and fuck your frustrations into - not that you impose on your drone, you aren't THAT sort of owner, nor do you want a drone that's utterly passive.

After all, they can't be a good combat drone bodyguard by being passive, now can they? That sort of drone needs a protective quality. Good judgment to know when to deploy the nano-constructed weapons from their arms and when not to.

Your drone is a sapient being. 9647 always, ALWAYS has a choice, at least with physical things. It's always your partner's choice to drone out and become 9647. And you're happy to be able to give them that choice. Because you love them, no matter if they're your partner at the moment, or if 9647 is active. Because they're both, and you love both. 9647 is like ... an alter ego, a secret identity. You just get to be the incredibly lucky partner that knows the secret. That knows the phrases that make 9647 listen. Not obey unquestioningly, but listen.

And you alone get to know where the helmet is. Where the tool that gives them the thing they desire is. You get to be the one they trust to be a good user, to keep them safe, to pull them out occasionally and make sure everything is still okay.

And then you both smile, and they go back under. You'll deactivate 9647 later. Maybe before bed, maybe after the sex, maybe in the morning.

You love your drone, and your drone loves you.

[doggirl-cyberdyke]

Disassembling your robot sub and breaking the sensor that allows it to orgasm to put it in permanent denial. Not telling it what you did, ordering it to cum for you and watching it collapse into whirring and whimpering and panic when it doesn't work, calling it disobedient and malfunctioning, forcing it to apologise over and over as it edges and edges and edges~

[voided-mind]

simply not enough appreciation for organic drones. sometimes i dont wanna be droned by a machine, by a corporation - sometimes i want to be droned by a parasitic hivemind that worms its way into my brain, changes my body, and integrates me into another, greater predator. something much, much more than human

[drone-5172]

Be a good drone and stay horny

Be a good drone and stay ready

Be a good drone and edge multiple times a day

Be a good drone and plug your holes when you are not masturbating

Fill your existence with it

Don't forget for a minute throughout the day that you exist as your Owner's sex toy

Listen to hypnosis tracks as you pretend to be listening to music in public

Focus your thoughts on that buttplug as you pretend to be a 'person' at work or doing groceries

It's called programming for a reason, make it define you

And when you are barely functioning mess, just edging forever, begging for your Master to use you, throwing away your dignity, doing anything you are told to do, finally you will get to cum

And suddenly it will all be clear

You will remember why you do this

Why you decided to be their sex object

The ecstasy of being well trained drone, used by your Owner is beyond anything you dreamt of

Now do it again

[saphig-iawn]

Installing Updates

You had a good night. A little session with me, followed by playing some games and just enjoying the evening to yourself.

Tiredness was making itself known, hanging on your shoulders and soothing your eyes to a gentle sleep, but your PC was still running and the last time you left it on overnight meant you were greeted by a uncomfortably warm room the following day.

You shrug off sleep's welcoming blanket and go through your little rituals; resisting one more quick game, closing everything down, turning off the lamp at your desk, repositioning the little figurine you knocked over when reaching for the lamp.

A blaze of solid colour greets you as your lamp turns off; your adjusting eyes fighting through the torrent of light to see what was happening on your monitor.

A Windows update…

You practically go limp in your chair with twinned apathy and disappointment, a sigh hanging in the air where you were holding yourself up. You fought off the notifications for so long, but your PC finally got you when your guard was down.

Usually you would've just pulled yourself up from your chair and left for your bed, but an unknown error interrupted the last update and you found your meticulously arranged desktop all rearranged and Edge had reinstalled again so you decided to just sit and let this one pan out.

What was a couple more minutes at your desk?

You tiredly chuckle under your breath when you remember the spinning dots at the centre of the screen is called throbber, and right now they're the best entertainment to keep you occupied.

The percentage number finally appears and begins its steady march through single digits.

You sigh again, realising this could be one of those ones where the PC restarts a whole bunch, so you decide to snuggle into your chair a little, resting your weary head on your shoulder.

A laboured blink rolls through your eyes.

20% complete.

Your head lolls with another chuckle, perhaps next time you blink the update would've sped up again, like skipping a cutscene.

In your tiredness, you decide to commit to the bit you've spun in your head and blink.

34% complete.

A little spark of joy lifts the veil of sleep for a moment, hehe your new power works!

Blink.

45% complete.

Blink.

58% complete.

Bllliink

66% complete.

Bllllllliiiinnnkk…

78% complete.

Your head was growing heavy, your eyelids using more energy with each blink.

Bllllllllllliiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnkkk…

Oh that one felt strange, like it was pulling your consciousness down as the darkness poured in behind your eyelids.

Blllllllllllllllllllllllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-

Your eyes can't focus. Your head feels like its orbiting your shoulders. You feel like you're being rolled and tossed by a thick caramel sea.

-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnkkk…

The text on screen is in triplicate, all copies fighting for recognition in your foggy mind.

97%

The three screens dance across your vision.

98%

Your mind is swimming.

99%

Your feel yourself slipping.

100%

The screen flashes white.

You sit bolt upright.

Your mind is full of calm laced with apprehension…

No… not apprehension…

Anticipation…

Like a dog waiting to run.

Like a firework waiting to go off.

Singular,sharpened,focused.

Thiswasagony,whythewaiting?

Timewasdragging

Youcanfeelafrustration

Itiscracklinginthecornersofyourmind.

BeggingpleadingscreamingpleasepleasepleasepleasePLEASE

The screen wakes up.

Good drone.

Your heart fills with pride, with accomplishment, with validation. The crashing waves of the Anticipation quell and hush.

Drone. [Action]: Stand.

You stand. You didn't even think about standing. You just stood. Like the white noise of your mind peeled away to the arrow of the words on your screen. Like you always have been standing, like it was your purpose to stand.

Good drone.

Fuck that felt good, you thought, but that sudden bursting forth of that thought was quickly hushed by the Anticipation.

Drone. [Action]: Strip.

You were naked. Like you were supposed to be naked. Like it was your natural state. That it was right that you weren't wearing anything.

Good drone.

Your body tries to convulse with the pleasure that courses through it, but you weren't told you could.

Preliminary Test: Complete

The Anticipation purred hungrily.

Drone. [Action]: Enter Standby.

…

The layers of your consciousness slide back into position.

You gather your bearings.

Your chest is heaving; your heart, racing.

The chill of cool night's air catches your attention, as the warmth of the clothes pooled at your feet begins to dissipate.

You go to react with the shock that you were just stood naked in front of your PC, but something in your mind reaches for that emotion and coddles it before it can go any further.

A calm settles on your thoughts like morning dew, that what happened was pleasant, and that you really should get going to bed.

You glance at the monitor one last time, and then at the PC next to it; the memories of botched updates passed surfacing again.

A single LED turning off informs you that your computer has gone to bed too.

With a contended sigh, you gather your clothes and make your way to your bed, each step soothing your body and welcoming back that warm blanket of sleep.

Cocooned in your blanket, head on your pillow, you can't help but softly smile as sleep pulls you in.

Did you enjoy? Here's my ko-fi if you fancy leaving a tip or want to talk about being transformed yourself!~

[cafterdark]

You always struggled with doing tasks. Between the procrastination, executive dysfunction, and exhaustion, even cleaning the dishes was a herculean task. It got so bad that it started to affect your work, leading to a stern talk from your boss. That's why, when your friend Jess, told you about her job's, Auton Industries, new productivity improvement services, you were willing to give it a shot.

The tech itself was simple, just a pair of dark sunglasses, indistinguishable from any normal pair. When you put it on, it prompted you with the text "Unit 4372 Settings" and hundreds of sliders and buttons. It overwhelmed you, so you picked the default options. A nice ding played and the actual software began.

On the right side of your vision, a list of task crept down, tasks and subtasks ranging from "Clean Dishes (32)" to "Improve Health (15)." The glasses highlighted various objects, with commands like "Clean", "Move", "Throw Away." Every time you completed a task, the highlight went green and dissipated, a speaker whispering sweet encouragement into your ear, followed by the same soft ding.

Put away some loose papers.

"Good Job!" Ding!

Finally take out the trash

"Great Work!" Ding!

Vacuum the floors.

"Keep Going!" Ding!

Every time you completed a task, that little bit of encouragement, that pleasurable ding, sank into your chest, making you feel warm, even more, appreciated. It was a feeling no other job or hobby had ever given you. When you were done with all your tasks, the shower of praise and dings you got was intoxicating.

You didn't admit it, but it was addictive. Soon, you began chasing the high of completing tasks, a depression following after finishing. You felt so useful following its commands, so appreciated when reviving its praise. You started helping friends clean their houses, just to get more. When you cleaned Jess's house, she had this grin that said she knew, as impossible as that was. Something fluttered in your stomach as she observed your work, giving her own compliments on top of the glasses. By the end, you could hardly stand with how much appreciation you received.

After, a new notification popped up on your glasses as you put them on in the morning.

"Due to your overwhelming success with our program, Auton Industries extends the offer to join our Advance Productivity program."

Needless to say, you joined immediately, and after many, many lengthy terms of service signed, a new piece of tech was sent to your home.

It was a full face mask, the face impenetrable black glass that reflected yourself. The instructions were simple. You put the mask on before you went to bed, and took it off in the morning. While you slept, the mask would play subliminal messages that increased the effectiveness of the productivity training.

You expected strange dreams from it, but all that greeted you was some beeps and soft static. In the morning, you felt better rested than ever before. Your exhaustion was gone.

The effects were immediate. Each completed task's made you feel so appreciated, each compliment and ding rocking through your body. On top of the mask, the glasses had gotten an update, with a whole new host of compliments.

Get dressed for work

"Good girl!" Ding!

Clean morning dishes

"Good Unit!" Ding!

Any discomfort with the wording was washed away by the appreciation you felt. It was complimenting you! You were useful! That couldn't be bad. By the time you were done, you needed to change underwear, and any thought of taking them off for work was excised from your mind.

The rest of the update showed itself as you began your job. Tasks had been made specifically for your work, and even what to say on calls, something you always struggled with, was automated. You found it so easy to sink into a pleasurable trance, following what the glasses told you to, shaking with every compliment. By the end of the shift, you had gotten more work done that ever before, and even got appreciation from the boss.

This process of wearing the mask while you slept, glasses while you were awake continued. And despite a few occasions like accidentally almost wearing the mask to work, things were going great, it... you were feeling so appreciated. Jess checked in on you more, keeping track of your progress. She seemed overwhelming happy with the results, calling you one of their best units. Something about the way she said that made it you shiver.

Then one day, a new package arrived at the door. You didn't remember ordering it, but then again, you didn't remember a lot of stuff now days. You fell into a loving haze of appreciation and usefulness and let the programing command it you.

A new task popped up, top of the list, most important:

"Open Package"

You followed without question.

"Good Girl!" Ding!

Inside was a latex suit.

"Put On Uniform"

The suit slipped on like a glove, each part lovingly crafted for your body. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you noticed it was a lot curvier than you, a lot more feminine, but it was soon buried by:

"Good Unit!" Ding!

"Put On Headset"

"Good Unit!" Ding!

Silly you, you already had it on!

"Repeat"

"It is a good drone"

"It is a good drone," You said

Ding!

"It is a Useful drone."

"It is a useful drone."

Ding!

"It is an Appreciated Drone"

"It is an Appreciated Drone," it said.

Ding!

It shuttered

"Calibration Complete, State Designation."

"Unit 4372"

"Good Drone" Ding!

If it still had control of its body, its knees would've buckled.

"Assume Transportation Position"

It fell to its knees, arms crossing behind its back and locking.

"Wait for Unit's owner to arrive, repeat mantra."

"It is a good drone, it is an useful drone, it is an appreciated drone, it is a good drone..."

... ... ...

"So there she is."

"Owner Arrival Acknowledged, cease previous instructions."

Unit 4372 looked to the voice, and saw its owner. Something in the back of its systems screamed recognition, attempting to hijack its programing to give Owner a name. Something that started with a J, but a simple touch by Owner drowned it all away.

"My star unit," Owner said. "Look how you've turned out."

Unit 4372 squirmed. It was so appreciated, so useful

"Come on, let's get you home."

If it could, Unit 4372 would've smiled.

[shadefish]

More Dollies finished!

check out the sale im running on dolly comms just like this!

[sunshine-poodlegirl]

Thinking again about being a drone on display…I think whatever suit I end up locked in for forever should have exaggerated curves, if not only for gender affirming purposes, but also to make it more entertaining for the people who’ve put me up on the stage…force me to adapt to a new body designed purely for pleasure. Bouncy rubber breasts and a big latex ass…a faceless rubber sex doll designed purely for display.

[demongirlstench]

They should invent an armpit that turns you into a mindless drone when you huff it

[puppygirlsideblog]

i saw a document for a hypnosis thing called brain++ it basically lets you run code natively on subjects

i think its very interesting and cool, however there are a few things i did want to tweak on it

so ive been messing around and ended up installing what ive been working on on a subject, its been going well so far but further testing and iterating is needed

ill try to keep updated tho ^w^

[ks-lair]

EmsCo's Drone Production

EmsCo takes pride in its quality of production, one simply needs to see how two inefficient intruders were changed to productive units with ease. As proof of quality, Emils himself ensures personally that each is fully up to standards, how diligent! (thx to @hypnokerc.bsky.social for comming!)

Characters depicted are @hypnokerc.bsky.social's and @sleepy-kai.bsky.social's!

[gothycollie]

A squishy shiny new drone!

Dronification commission for LuminProto!

[saphig-iawn]

Shaping You

There is something deep and powerful about wanting to shape someone.

When a cute and docile femme approaches me wanting to be a doll and be cherished and dressed, shaping them follows certain paths and patterns.

When a tired and overworked femme approaches me wanting be a drone in my Network and not have to think anymore, shaping them aligns with certain ideas and influences.

Both are enjoyable and loving and caring but...

But sometimes... I just crave the ability to shape them-

To take the cute femme and interlock my fingers tightly with theirs so the impressions I leave in their skin become ball joints and seams.

To take the overworked femme and cradle their head in my hand, and rub my thumb across their lips leaving nothing behind but smooth latex.

To take the new doll onto my lap and give them such an embrace that they shrink into a sweet little toy, with a permanent smile on their face.

To take the new drone and sculpt their hands into mittens, their crotch into a nullge, their face into a work of rubber art.

To take you and lift those burdens that rub stress into your muscles and strain into your bones.

To distill you into the parts that you should be, the parts that you need to be; all by my loving hand.

To make you mine.

...

Well...

Would you like me to shape you?

Did you enjoy? Here's my ko-fi if you fancy leaving a tip or want to talk about being transformed yourself!~