Your New Assignment (Strawberry Jam)

# Your New Assignment ## Strawberry Jam 2017 Edition <script>window.story.state.reset()</script> *(If you are not familiar with my writing, please read my <a href="https://mistress-sb.tumblr.com/ethics-statement">Ethics Statement</a>.)* Everything is black. What is going on? [ *beep* ]{.machinespeech} [[Open your eyes]]

Opening your eyes does little, the room you're in being totally pitch black. You try and sit up, but to no avail -- heavy metal bands press over your chest, hips, and legs, pinning you securely to the metal slab you're laying on. It was cold, and you were shivering a little, attempting to ruffle up your feathers to keep warm. You notice, by that point, that your head *aches*, as if you had been hit across the head. This is all rather worrying, as you don't know how you got here -- or remember much else at all. You were an Avian, you knew that much, just from the feeling of your body, but even what you looked like escaped you. Your muddled thoughts got no clearer after what seemed like a long time thinking about how you got here, and who you are. You were sure this was just because someone clearly hit you over the head, and it'll all come back soon... [ "Under the Assigned Labour Act of 2355, you have been chosen for an Assignment." ]{.machinespeech} Your head darted about, trying to locate the source of the speech. An assignment? What does that mean? [ "Hold still. Enabling mental interface." ]{.machinespeech} Your vision goes a bright, blinding white. Each feather in your body feels like a small knife for a brief second as something takes control of you, the feeling jarring enough to cause you to kick and writhe in the metal binds strapping you down once the feeling of your body returned. What do you do? [[{OBEY} Lie still]] [[{RESIST} Try and break free]]

You open your eyes and lift your head to look at the screen flickering into life. A familiar insignia -- that of the Accord, your species's empire, you remember -- spins slowly on the screen, whilst it waits for you to pay attention. Your eyes hurt from the sudden change in lighting, and whatever drugs they gave you made it hard to focus, but you daren't complain. [ "You have been assigned the duties of a Personal Assistant." ]{.machinespeech} "But... that means..." You pat along your head, until you find the tender part of skin on the back of your head. You knew what was causing all of this -- a mind interface chip. Any incision they made was already mostly healed, as the Accord had access to rapid-healing nanotech salves, just leaving a bit of sensitive skin and a patch missing feathers. [ They will regrow. ]{.machinespeech} The chip was... talking to you? Not through your ears, but you could still 'hear' it. You'd only heard of these chips before, and never felt like speaking to one of the Accordian assistants to ask them about it. But, having a mind chip, and an assignment -- meant you were now one of them. [[{OBEY} Accept it]] [[{RESIST} But I don't want to be an assistant!]]

[ "Look forward." ]{.machinespeech} You look forward at the screen, Accord insignia fading into what looks like a dossier. There's a picture -- is it you? It kind of feels like you. Beside it is a sheet of statistics -- weight, height, genetic lineage, sector of birth, and the like. Above it all, is a word, and a long barcode. It's not your name, you know that much -- but it seems associated with you, somehow. [ "You have been assigned the identifier <%- s.identifier %> and the serial <span class="nowrap"><%- s.serial %></span>." ]{.machinespeech} "But, but, I have a name already!" You say, attempting to think of it, trying to force away the haze of your earlier drugging. "Everyone has a name already, I don't need to be given one!" [ "Assistants do not have names. Only identifiers, and a serial number." ]{.machinespeech} You try and force the chip-created thought from your mind, desperately searching what little memories you can recall right now for what your name is. "But, I... look it up, you can see I have one!" [ "Searching... personnel record found.<br>Serial: <span class="nowrap"><%- s.serial %></span>.<br>Identifier: <%- s.identifier %>.<br>Status: undergoing assignment. Past details expunged." ]{.machinespeech} A little whimper escapes you. [[{OBEY} "Assistants don't have names..."]] [[{RESIST} Remember your name<-{RESIST} Think, <%- s.identifier %>, think, remember your name...]]

You remember your name. <%- s.expunged_name %>. That was it. And as soon as you remembered it, everything went black. The Accord, as a society, is kind to their assistants. It allows them mostly open thought, opinions, and general physical freedom. But you were too much trouble. No matter, your body is still useful to the Accord, even if your mind has to be erased completely. No longer fit for your original purpose, you are given a new assignment. And this time you accept it, without thought. You don't get to have thoughts anymore. [[GAME OVER->New Game]]

"Assistants don't have names..." You mutter quietly, defeated. You have little choice but to agree, even though the back of your mind suspects that it wasn't entirely because you wanted to. [ "Correct. Good Assistant." ]{.machinespeech} The words make your vision a little fuzzy, as it feels like you've just had a flood of endorphins injected into your mind. Your balance gets a little wobbly, but you recover, standing back up straight. "T-thank you..." You mutter, voice shaking from the feeling of pleasure tingling and slowly waning. Why did it feel so good to hear those words? You feel like whatever they put in your head might be doing it... but it felt so *good*... why would they make you feel good? [ "Make your way to the training chamber. Follow the lights." ]{.machinespeech} The ground lights up underneath you, the dim glow growing across the floor into a line heading towards a now-open door. You hesitate, the thought of whatever was in a 'training chamber' sending a shiver down your spine, although you can't tell if it was fear or pleasure. Since the endorphins had faded completely, you did wonder if doing what it told you would get you more praise, and those wonderful words. [[Walk into the training chamber]]

The line of lights led you down a hallway containing dozens of different paths. It keeps telling you which way to go at each intersection, security doors opening as you step towards them, bringing you only what you can imagine as deeper into the facility. You pass what seems like a thousand unmarked doors in the halls you walk down, possibly containing assistants like you, or maybe even worse. The training chamber, like everything else, was unmarked from the outside. The lighting visible through the open door was remarkably better than elsewhere that you'd seen, although it was hardly bright. You obediently step inside, the smallish room containing nothing but a chair in front of a table, a pile of cream-coloured folders waiting. [ "Sit." ]{.machinespeech} You do so, pulling out the chair and sitting at it, the open back of it letting your tail feathers slip through. The chair is cold, and it's only then that you notice you're not wearing anything. Your embarassment is curbed slightly by the realisation that it's likely nobody not in your situation is anywhere near you, but you still did wish for at least some underwear... [ "Open the top folder. Read the first page." ]{.machinespeech} You droop slightly at not being called a Good Assistant for following orders, but do as you are told. You take the top folder off the stack and open it up on the table, leaning forward to try and read the words on it, whatever they used to sedate you before still hanging around just enough to make your vision blurry. You rub your eyes, and give them a moment to focus, which seems to help. Leaning in, you realise the page is that of a dossier, on... a Claws of Blue. The name seems familiar to you... [ "Do you recognise this person?" ]{.machinespeech} Your mind is foggy, but you look deeper into your memories, as you read the page. Female, 34... research specialist in extraterrestrial geography... assigned on ARV Prying Eye in 2504... Oh dear goddess, you think. It's your former partner. You know exactly why they're asking. You used to be their... 'assistant'. In play only, back when you were free... but a play-assistant all the same. How did whatever was talking to you know about this? You flip through the pages, dozens and dozens of accounts of your time together contained therein. A relationship cut short by an off-world assignment, and one that they now, seemingly, want to use against you. [[Stay silent.]] [[{OBEY} Admit it]] [[{RESIST} Deny it]]

"Yes... yes... I know them..." You say, choosing your words carefully. [ "Claws of Blue, partner of <%- s.identifier %> from 2503 to 2504. Is this correct?" ]{.machinespeech} You nod, glancing down at the page. Those were the dates. It was a short, but relatively sweet relationship, cut short by an off-world assignment that you were unable to follow them on. [ "Please describe the nature of your relationship." ]{.machinespeech} You shift uncomfortably in your seat, knowing what it will eventually ask. "Romantic, as per... as per the government relationship form said..." You reply, continuing to reply as accurately as you can whilst hoping whatever was speaking to you didn't know what was in these pages. [ "There was something else relevant to your new assignment." ]{.machinespeech} You go red. They knew. Of course they knew, but, knowing was different than hearing them ask. "We... we sometimes role-played a bit... I was the... the assistant, and she was the owner... just inside sessions, though..." [ "You enjoyed one part of it far more than to keep it just in short sessions. What was that part? ]{.machinespeech} You shift about uncomfortably. What you both did together was slowly coming back, all the sessions you had, and the sessions that turned into day-long ones of you wearing that special collar, reminding you of the place you were playing... but one thing did stick in your mind. [["Being kept in a hood until She needed me..."]] [[{RESIST} "Nothing! It was just, like, during sex! Nothing else!"]]

You shake your head. "No, I don't remember. The name rings a bell, but whatever you've drugged me with mu-" [ *DO NOT LIE.* ]{.machinespeech} The words in your head seem to echo until you find yourself grabbing your head and whimpering. "Aaah! I remember! I remember!" You howl, wanting it to stop. "Please!" The voice stops. You pant, head aching, doubled over against the table. The system gives you time to recover, before it asks you again. [ "Do you know this person?" ]{.machinespeech} You look down at the pages, the hundreds of pages, of you and them. You know you can't lie about knowing them -- it was even a government registered relationship by the end. Maybe it would be better to tell the truth. [[{OBEY} Admit it]]

You stay silent, and the system does too. It has all the time in the world. It is aware, though, that you do not. [[Stay silent.->Stay silent 2]] [[{OBEY} Admit it]] [[{RESIST} Deny it]]

[ "What a shame. Maybe her second choice will have fonder memories of time spent together." ]{.machinespeech} And then everything was black. You end up with your mind erased, no longer fit for its one purpose. No memories, no personality, no thoughts. You end up being assigned as a retail assistant in one of the government's many transit centers, brewing tea and chirping cheerfully, yet emptily, as you hand it over. One day, your at-one-time potential owner comes past, her new assistant in tow. She sees your face and frowns a little, walking to the next vendor in the transit center. Oh well, she thought. It was your loss. [[GAME OVER->New Game]]

[ beep. beep. beep. beep. ]{.machinespeech} [[Stay silent.]] [[{OBEY} Admit it]] [[{RESIST} Deny it]]

You nod, taking one last look at the profile picture inside before closing the folder and putting it aside. "Yes, okay..." You say, hoping the folder stays closed. What were they possibly hoping to get out of talking about your relationship? To make sure you told the truth? The computer asked another question. [ Who is the almighty ruler of the Accord? ]{.machinespeech} Unlike the previous question, you barely had to think. You knew this. [[Claws of Gold]] [[Nobody, Claws of Gold is a terrible despot.]]

Satisfied with your answer, no matter whether it had come directly from your mind or not, the machine asked again. [ What are you? ]{.machinespeech} [[{OBEY} "An assistant."]] <% if (s.resist_actions > 2) { %> [[{RESIST} "I am not an assistant!"]] <% } else { %> [[{R▒SI▓░} "No, please... please, I'm not..."]] <% } %>

The system ignores your answer, but your own mind seems to rebel. The system asks again. [ Who is the almighty ruler of the Accord? ]{.machinespeech} You knew this. Especially since it felt the chip was now helping you come to the right answer. [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]] [[Claws of Gold]]

You are an assistant. You admit this to the computer barely a moment after you were asked, it being such an easy question. Somehow it felt right? [ Insufficient time for further delivery pre-training. Requistitioning storage and delivery device for <span class="nowrap"><%- s.serial %></span>. ]{.machinespeech} You feel a little confused. Pre-training? They were just asking you questions, weren't they? [ Storage and delivery device located, attend Loading Bay 3. ]{.machinespeech} You stand from the desk, not having much idea where you were supposed to go, until the lights that guided you here flicked on. You look over the folders on the desk, as if you wanted to take one with you, but decide to just go. [[{OBEY} Attend Loading Bay 3 for delivery]]

You say it with whatever defiance you have left. "I am not an assistant!" You wince in anticipation of punishment, knowing by now what it can do. But, nothing of the sort happened. [ "You are an assistant. Obedience protocols activated." ]{.machinespeech} Your vision goes all funny for a second as you feel something flip in your head. You're not... you're not... [[{R▒SI▓░} "I'm not! I swear I'm not! Please!"->{R▒SI▓░} "No, please... please, I'm not..."]]

Your head felt all fuzzy as you said it. You thought it was true, that you weren't an assistant, but another part of your mind *knew* this wasn't the case. Every thought you had about it got harder and harder, as you felt the machine interrogating you slowly clamp down on your mind, squeezing out any thought that this isn't your place. [[{░█▒░░} "Please... please get out of..."]]

Your thoughts got cloudier and cloudier as you attempted to fight it, but in the end you simply gave up and let the fog clear. It was too hard to think about what you were, other than what the machine told you. [ "What are you?" ]{.machinespeech} You decided to just tell the truth. [[{OBEY} "An assistant."]]

You step outside of the training room, the door sliding shut behind you. The lights, embedded into the ground, lead you left and further into wherever you were. You walk and walk, mind swimming with confusion and more information to process than you were really able to. Where were you being delivered to? You kept thinking, trying to figure out if it was all just a really vivid dream, or whether the patch of missing feathers on the back of your head meant the chip really was there. The lights stopped beside a door, much larger than you'd seen so far. Emblazoned with warning stripes and a giant "3", it appeared to be the place you were ordered to go. It opens a sliver, just enough for you to comfortably step into, and into the loading bay behind it. The loading bay was a massive spacedock -- what seemed like hundreds of metres wide and tall, and thousands long -- with smaller transport ships parked along the corners, and one larger one sitting in the embedded drydock. You look around in awe, and then worry. Where were you supposed to go? "You, assistant. Over here." You turn to the voice, an Avian dressed in Accord agent garb, at a desk beside the edge of the door. You become acutely aware that you're significantly less dressed than they are, but they don't seem at all worried by your lack of clothing. You walk towards them once they notice they have a small pile of uniforms on the desk they're at -- maybe one is for you? "Usually they send you in batches, but you're a special request. Take this." You step up to the desk where she's sitting, a single uniform neatly folded and pushed towards you. It looks like a dress, in a dark grey... with a bright white barcode down your right hip. You open your beak to protest about having your serial (<code class="nowrap"><%- s.serial %></code>, you remember) so obviously on display, but nothing comes out. "Put it on." You unfold the dress, not even bothering to see if it's the correct size. By now, you know it will be. You wriggle your way into it, finding it easier than usual to get into something one-piece. It zips up in the back, and hugs your body closely, but somehow doesn't restrict your usual movement. There's a mirror beside the desk -- a full length one, for some reason. "You can take a look. We're in no rush." You step to the mirror, looking yourself over. Your plumage seems a little roughed up, and you dearly wish you had something to fix it, but you doubt that concession will be given in a loading bay. The dress fits you well, hugging you right down to your thighs, where it gives you a little more give. The barcode is obvious down your right hip, and is matched by one above your left breast. What surprises you the most, though, is how lithe of a form you have, without your tail feathers... wait... You again open your beak to protest, but your squawks of surprise and protest don't come out. Instead, you keep looking. You liked your tail feathers, why would they get rid of them?! Well, you reasoned, assistants are naturally not allowed off-world. They don't have flight, and the tail feathers were the Accord species's last evolutionary link to the skies. It makes sense, you thought. At least, you thought it was your own thoughts. "Take these." The woman at the desk pushes over two items -- a name tag, and a small metal card. The name tag, emblazoned with the Accord insignia and "<%- s.identifier %>", you put on your chest above the barcode, sticking magnetically in place. The small metal card you recognise as an Identity Card, searching for a place to put it, until you find a hidden pocket in the side of your dress that fits it perfectly. The dark grey card, matching your dress, shows your status. An assistant. "You have more uniforms in your pod, don't worry. Come with me." A pod? What pod? You follow her towards one of the smaller transport ships, half out of interest and half out of lack of other options, until the question is answered. Outside the ship, on a trolley, was what looked like a large metal egg. The front was opened up, showing a flat dark-grey inside, with a standing platform and a crate underneath it. "Just climb in, backwards, now." You couldn't help but do as she said, stepping up to the pod, and turning away from it. There were handles, which you grabbed, and held tight, not having any idea what would happen next... [[{OBEY} Get inside the pod]]

You pull yourself up against the dark wall of the pod, it shifting away from you as you pressed further into it, before it began to grab you and pull you in. You have no idea what this substance even was, but for some reason, it pulling you in doesn't panic you. It's cool against your feathers and not too constricting, enveloping your body in what your mind told you was absolute safety. You aren't sure if you should believe that thought, but once your whole head was "submerged", you can only hope. "Enjoy the trip. And say hi to your new owner for me, she must be pretty important for a special request..." You can't move as you hear the pod front close up, holding you inside until whoever your new owner is lets you out. You feel like you're floating on a cloud with your whole body, whatever you're enveloped in being almost like solid air. It's a strange feeling, but one you get used to as the minutes tick by. There's not a whole lot to do in here. [[Think]] [[Rest]]

Your head aches, still. You know the chip is in your head, you can feel it doing things... but surely there's some things you're allowed to remember? You take the thought continuing as a yes. You gather yourself, and think about what you know. You know you are an assistant (<span class="machinespeech">you are an assistant</span>), you are still in the Accord (<span class="machinespeech">the Accord rules all</span>), and you're called <%- s.identifier %> now (<span class="machinespeech">you have always been called <%- s.identifier %></span>). You know you're in a pod (<span class="machinespeech">a Storage Capsule Mk III</span>). You know you're being delivered to... <span class="machinespeech">your new owner</span>... yes, your new owner. You don't know who they are, but it seems you will soon. <span class="machinespeech">Rest.</span> Maybe you should. You feel exhausted, mentally and physically, and some rest could help that immensely... [[Rest]]

You close your eyes. Sleep quickly follows, the pure exhaustion of the "day" meaning it is more of a controlled passing out than anything else. You are comfy enough in the pod, at least. You don't sleep too deeply, your mind very much still active, even if your conciousness had drifted off to rest. <span class="machinespeech">There were things to be done.</span> It wasn't too long, to your mind, before you feel the pod jolt, as if it was being moved. You wake up instantly, the surprise pushing you to an alertness you'd not felt since you first woke up in the facility. You can't see anything, or feel anything but the snug "foam" keeping you safe in transit, but as the jolts come to a stop, you feel like that might change. You don't know where you are, and the blinding light as the foam pushes you out of storage doesn't help you figure that out. But, you're pushed onto a metal plate, where you can stand freely. "About time." The voice seemed familiar. "Why don't you come down from there?" [[{OBEY} Step out of the pod]]

You stumble from the plate, unsurely stepping off it and down to the floor below. You hold your hands up to your face as your sensitive eyes adjust to what was, to you, a blinding sun out of the window. But before you had totally adjusted, you could see a figure occluding the light. They stepped forward, and pulled your hands down from your face. You thought about struggling against their firm grip, but... <span class="machinespeech">why would you?</span> "It is indeed you, isn't it, <%- s.identifier %>?" You nod, squinting to try and see who this person was, and why they sounded... sounded like... "...Mistress..." You mumble. "Yes, my dear. Are you surprised to see me?" Your eyes finally come into focus and can deal with the light, and you see, right in front of you, Her. Mistress. Claws of Blue. This realisation is coupled with a flood of endorphins, making your knees buckle, Her grip the only thing holding you up. "But..." You struggle to say, beak falling open, tongue almost lolling out in the waves of artifical pleasure. "...why?" She lets go of you, letting you fall, panting, to your knees. "Why? Well, not too long ago, I got back from that assignment. Lauded as a hero, for my scientific discoveries." You look up at her. Even through your endorphin-riddled mind, the boasting sounded like the Claws of Blue you know. "And, it so happens, when you hit a certain rank, there are certain... affordances you can take advantage of. I'm too busy, and important, to get everything done around here, and I need my... relaxation, as well." You blushed slightly, the memories you recounted in the facility shoved back to your mind's eye for just a second. "They gave me a choice to pick who I wanted, and, well... I decided to rescue you from that dead-end, low-ranking Ministry of Internal Affairs position..." "By... making me your assistant?" You reply, words barely forming in your mouth. "Not just an assistant." She said, walking around your kneeling form, inspecting you in your new grey one-piece dress. "*My* assistant. That's surely a higher rank than you'd ever get alone." You let the thought run through your head. You don't exactly remember much before the facility, other than what you had been asked... but you do remember your old job. You were, indeed, particularly low-ranking... but surely not lower than that of an assistant. You decided <span class="machinespeech">there was no point arguing with Mistress, regardless</span>. "Up you get." She said. "Follow me." [[{OBEY} Follow Her]]

Your mind swam from the endorphins, but you stood, shakily. The fear of instantly collapsing was less than the fear of not doing as She said, after all. "A little bigger than my old apartment, isn't it?" She said, walking into the middle of Her lounge, a large room with a wall of panelled glass overlooking the Sector's city. Your pod comfortably sat in the corner -- you wondered if it was to stay there, and hoped it wasn't where you were to sleep from now on -- as if it were a shiny steel sculpture put inamongst the other arched metal curves that made up higher-end Avian architecture. Couches and armchairs, enough to seat a near-dozen, sat in a semicircle looking out over the view, with plush red carpet lining the floor. You had no idea what sort of promotion She got, but it seemed impressive. "Let me show you *my* room." She led you along, taking it a little slow until you got your feet again, down a wide hallway and through an equally wide door. Her bedroom seemed to be as big as your whole old apartment... "This is where I sleep." She said, gesturing to the large bed sitting against the far wall. "And... and me?" You ask, nervously, looking around at the room, in case there was some sort of mat that was now your home. "That will be decided, depending on the day, assistant." She replied, before continuing on, stepping past you and back down the hall. "And this is my study..." You follow Her obediently into the much smaller workroom. There's a large desk, covered in papers of various states of scribble-coverage, as well as a number of datapads strewn around various surfaces. A bookcase on the wall is full of older paper tomes, and stacks of uncategorised holodiscs. "You do not enter this room without my permission." She said, turning to you. You nod, looking over what must be Her work, Her documents. <span class="machinespeech">Too important for your clearance</span>, you think. "One final thing." She says. "I've been keeping this a while, and I think it's about time we got it back on you." You tilt your head in confusion, but once you're pushed back out of the room and into the lounge, you spot a familiar box. A box that Mistress acquired a long time ago, containing a collar. <span class="machinespeech">Your collar.</span> "Kneel." She said, once you were both in the lounge. You fall obediently to your knees without even thinking. <span class="machinespeech">It felt good to be back down here.</span> She opened the box, your metal collar glimmering in the sunlight. "You always accepted this without hestitation. I am sure that is still the case." She said, taking it from its box and opening it up. "I even got the tags re-engraved for you." You look at the collar intently. You had always accepted it before. Would you now? <span class="machinespeech">Is that even a question?</span> <% if (s.choice == "bondage") { %> [[{OBEY} Accept the collar->Collar Bondage]] <% } %>

You lift your head up, to accept the collar. <span class="machinespeech">Her collar.</span> The cold steel makes you flinch as She closes it around your neck, and the click of the lock engaging makes you shudder as it always had. "Good. Now you're my assistant, as you always wanted to be." You blush deeply, lowering your head as She says that. It was hard to deny, <span class="machinespeech">as it was the truth</span>. "Thank you..." You mutter, reaching a hand up to touch the collar. It was smooth, strong, unyielding, and surely now locked forever. ----- There was a folder on Her workdesk. "<%- s.identifier %>" was scrawled on the front, underneath a neatly machine-printed "<%- s.serial %>". "Status: Assigned to Claws of Blue", the first page read. Your file, every past detail expunged, marked out, and erased. None of it mattered anymore, after all. <span class="machinespeech">Only She mattered. You now serve. You now obey. You are Her assistant.</span> [[{OBEY}]]

*And that is where this particular story ends, for now.* *It is not all that is in store for you, but it is all that could be done considering the time restraint. When it is finished, it will give you a few more choices along the way. Not that, in the end, they are choices that affect your situation in any meaningful way.* *It'll just be providing the illusion of choice.* *Until next time,* *Miss Bee* [[New Game]]