Production Line by Spooky Boogy (WebArchive)

The next subject was wheeled into my chamber on a steel bed, their ankles and wrists shackled down with steel chains to prevent any unwanted reactions. I rose from my idle reading, waving the attendant away as I locked the bed into position and began to gather my equipment, placing the tools of my trade on a small platform beside the subject. I looked them up and down, evaluating their situation, while reaching for the tablet that would list out all of the specifics – I had made a little game of it, in my time working at the factory, trying to guess what had befallen the unfortunate souls that landed in my clutches.

Judging by the attire the attendants had left on them – a red latex skirt with a matching bra, along with red fishnets on the upper and lower body – this one had probably been picked up at a fetish club. It was a common enough hunting ground; they had probably been dancing their night away, or perhaps had even found someone to get intimate with, when a sharp sting at the back of their neck signalled the end of everything. I reached behind the subject’s neck to feel for the faint metallic bump of the obedience chip, confirming its location with a nod to myself. It might be useful, but I always preferred to avoid it; it was more satisfying to watch the effects of the process take hold with a little bit of a struggle. At last, I checked the tablet, and grinned. My guess had been spot on. The tablet also gave me the designation of the subject, 375, and a note that they had been particularly “spirited” during the transport phase. My grin split wider, a challenge!