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Description
A drone's day was busy, but that was its function.

Activation was the first step before a unit, like the one formerly called "Izzy", had to immediately spring to action. It helped that their needs for the day were handled while they were in the charging and cleaning pods, so there was no need for these objects to eat or prepare themselves at all. A hiss of air followed by the clicking of rubber boots was all that this unit had to worry about, not that it could. Thinking, like all other tasks, was merely a forgotten waste of resources. Machines obeyed, people thought.

Izzy Drone first made Dream's meals. A rubber dominatrix of such caliber could only be served by the finest of objects and the most perfectly crafted foods. Red wines from expensive vineyards, lobster and crab from distant shores, and the highest grade meats that could be procured from Dream's endless network of obedient people. An outsider might have wondered how she acquired all of the highest quality things the world over, but those who knew of the hypnotic dragon's powers would know that these were merely gifts, submitted to her by those who's minds and hearts were stolen.

The drone's hands would move with dexterity beyond humanity, befitting that of a dragon shaped tool. Cut this, season this. Its timing was perfect to the second to produce an exquisite dish every time, the same exact thing without flaw. Though this might lack that spark of creativity some people so loved in food, there was no room for error when someone was reduced to some[i]thing[/i]. Hands of rubber cooked, then cleaned, before going to serve.

An hour later had the drone at the dragon's side, working as an automated assistant to her. One second would have it grabbing a mask for hypnosis, or Dream's favored pocket watch, then offering her a drink a second later. Every task was treated with equal gravity when it was done to serve the owner, something which was impressed upon the programmed mind. No job was too small or too large for a mindless slave to adhere to. Something such as 'Izzy' had no preferences or identifiers, save for the cap resting on its head.

The main task was one even its mind could feel a tiny spark of pleasure from; polishing.

Not itself, of course. That was automated. But there was something that every unit under Dream's endless power that sparked a fetish for running the rag over the boots, teasing her legs and arms all at once. The way that the rubber shined beneath the careful work of the object was so impossibly perfect that even the deviated mind was stuck worshiping mentally, following the desires to work even more. Perfect beyond perfection, a moment of slavery that was so close it was nearly tender. Quiet, gentle, loving squeaks.

"Continue." and then the moment ended as the drone rose, bowed, and went back to the kitchens.

An object's work was never done.

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Description
A drone's day was busy, but that was its function.

Activation was the first step before a unit, like the one formerly called "Izzy", had to immediately spring to action. It helped that their needs for the day were handled while they were in the charging and cleaning pods, so there was no need for these objects to eat or prepare themselves at all. A hiss of air followed by the clicking of rubber boots was all that this unit had to worry about, not that it could. Thinking, like all other tasks, was merely a forgotten waste of resources. Machines obeyed, people thought.

Izzy Drone first made Dream's meals. A rubber dominatrix of such caliber could only be served by the finest of objects and the most perfectly crafted foods. Red wines from expensive vineyards, lobster and crab from distant shores, and the highest grade meats that could be procured from Dream's endless network of obedient people. An outsider might have wondered how she acquired all of the highest quality things the world over, but those who knew of the hypnotic dragon's powers would know that these were merely gifts, submitted to her by those who's minds and hearts were stolen.

The drone's hands would move with dexterity beyond humanity, befitting that of a dragon shaped tool. Cut this, season this. Its timing was perfect to the second to produce an exquisite dish every time, the same exact thing without flaw. Though this might lack that spark of creativity some people so loved in food, there was no room for error when someone was reduced to some[i]thing[/i]. Hands of rubber cooked, then cleaned, before going to serve.

An hour later had the drone at the dragon's side, working as an automated assistant to her. One second would have it grabbing a mask for hypnosis, or Dream's favored pocket watch, then offering her a drink a second later. Every task was treated with equal gravity when it was done to serve the owner, something which was impressed upon the programmed mind. No job was too small or too large for a mindless slave to adhere to. Something such as 'Izzy' had no preferences or identifiers, save for the cap resting on its head.

The main task was one even its mind could feel a tiny spark of pleasure from; polishing.

Not itself, of course. That was automated. But there was something that every unit under Dream's endless power that sparked a fetish for running the rag over the boots, teasing her legs and arms all at once. The way that the rubber shined beneath the careful work of the object was so impossibly perfect that even the deviated mind was stuck worshiping mentally, following the desires to work even more. Perfect beyond perfection, a moment of slavery that was so close it was nearly tender. Quiet, gentle, loving squeaks.

"Continue." and then the moment ended as the drone rose, bowed, and went back to the kitchens.

An object's work was never done.

------------

Art by

Story by