Face-First Into Danger

"We shouldn't be alive right now," the Doctor whispers as we move carefully through the darkened corridors, "this whole section of the Wheel should be nothing but empty space between the inner hull and the anti-asteroid armour." I look around nervously, then refocus my attention on trying to pinpoint the source of the strange whirring noises that we can hear. "Don't tell it that," I reply, "it might be- Hold on, up ahead on the left." We stop, then proceed more stealthily to the open doorway I pointed out - and which the Doctor had doubtlessly already noticed - and take a peek inside. "Fuck," the Doctor whimpers softly, "seeing this always makes me so hot."

'This' is a large room lined with alcoves, each one filled with what I can only presume are Cybersluts at various stages of conversion. The ones nearest to us are the two missing Drahvin, standing stock still despite the large, vibrating dildos being thrust into their pussies and assholes by whirring robotic arms built into the floor of each alcove. Their eyes and ears are covered by heavy visors that resemble VR headsets and chunky-looking headphones held by more robotic arms. Suddenly each alcove is covered by a metal shutter, and both the Doctor and I wince at the loud whine of motorised saws and the wet crunching and drilling sounds emanating from within.

When the alcoves open again, the Drahvin's legs look like they're covered in black latex leggings under smooth, silver armour plates, although the fact that those plates should look much bulkier given the amount of muscle they have gives away what really happened to them. The pair don't show any sign that they even noticed the replacement, though - continuing to stand motionless aside from the occasional quiver of their hips. I look up and down the walls and see that the occupants of each alcove are all in a much more advanced state of transformation; all of them have had their limbs replaced, while half of them are completely unrecognisable as having once been human. The ones that must be fully-converted Cybersluts have identical robotic faces to go with their identical bodies, each sporting the same bimbo-blank expression as they drip softly-glowing blue lubricant from pouty thumb-thick latex lips into the valley of their massive latex tits.

They're a little disturbing, honestly, in a sort of 'clinically obscene' way - like if HR Giger had been more conventionally horny and into bimbos. So, not like HR Giger at all, I think ruefully, you really need to work on your metaphors, John. We creep across the room to the door at the far end, eyeing the motionless cyborgs warily. We slip inside and I start to move towards the four figures lying on what seem to be hospital beds that we find there, but the Doctor grabs my arm and pulls me off to the side as the sound of metal-on-metal becomes audible behind us. Ducking behind one of the cabinets lining the room, we watch as a tall figure strides into the room and looks down at the **** women.

It's clearly more advanced than the 'sleeping' Cybersluts in the other room; its feet are fitted with raised heels, its armour covers every part of it besides its huge tits, phat ass and swollen slit. It sports an odd pair of handlebar-like structures that sprout from the sides of its head at one end and join at a lamp built into the top of its head at the other, which I'm confused by until I spot a smaller handle on either side of its literally sculpted abs and another pair on its lower back. Literal love handles, I **** down a laugh, how about that? It leans over one of the women in the beds, who wakes up just in time to get an eyeful of swirling purple-pink light from the Cyberslut's headlamp. Her jaw falls slack and her eyes glaze over as she stares into the light, and I take a moment to note that this Cyberslut seems high-quality in other ways than the ones in the other room, too - its tits are still clearly fake, but they're not the trashy-looking implants of the others, while its lips are less obscene and clearly intended to be capable of shapes other than various flavours of cocksucking 'O'.

It goes down the line, leaving each woman staring blankly at the ceiling as she lays in bed, then pauses. Its head turns left, then right - just far enough to not see us in its peripheral vision - before it moves back to the first woman who was exposed to the lamp and repeats the blast of light. Taking pains not to make a sound, the Doctor and I move out from behind the cabinet, creep across the room to the door...

...and I run face-first into two of the cheap-looking Cybersluts when the door hisses open and I go to make a break for it. The Doctor makes a noise of surprise when she runs into my back, as the pair of cyborgs grab my arms tightly, then another one that trails off into a weak moan. The ones holding me spin me around to see her staring into the 'natural'-looking cyberslut's lamp as it pulses pink and purple light into her eyes. It reaches out and cups the Doctor's chin before slipping its thumb into her mouth. She immediately begins to suck on it, eyes vacant and reflecting the swirling light - obedient, docile and completely, utterly hypnotised.

"Good girl," the Cyberslut says, her voice calm and carrying a faint reverb to it, "such a good, predictable girl..."