The Drone Epidemic!

Another day, another piece of clothing to work on. At least, it seems to be that way for Rarity. Though, today, she would be designing a different type of clothing, one that is meant for herself.

“La la la la la,” Rarity sang as she sewed two pieces of cloth together. It was until she ran out of thread and needed more.

“Hey, I’m out of thread.” She calls out to her sister, Sweetie Belle, but she notices that she’s nowhere to be found. “Sweetie Belle!” Rarity asked again, growing more concerned.

Soon, she heard the sound of hoofsteps, coming into her boutique, three ponies at the same time. Though they sounded weirdly soft, Rarity could still tell that it was the CMCs. So, again, while thinking of a new design for the cloth, she called out, “Sweetie Belle!”

As the CMCs were approaching her, she could hear the moans getting clearer and clearer. “Ah! You’re not Sweetie Belle,” Rarity says as she finally turns around to see the three CMPs (Cutie Mark Ponydrones). She walked around the CMPs as she examined them one by one, realizing how similar they were to the CMCs, not knowing that they actually once were the CMCs themselves.

After getting bored with standing and looking around as Rarity walked around them, the CMPs started to feel bored, and Sweetie Belle started rubbing her own bulge.

“Hey! You ponies are really the CMCs! What happened? It’s too early for Halloween… though, I am already planning some Halloween costumes myself.” She didn’t realize that the CMCs had changed, and she just thought it was a costume for pranking, the yellow rubber suit of radioactivity.

“Wait, what are you doing!?” she exclaims towards Sweetie Belle, seeing her rubbing her bulge. “What exactly are you doing? In my shop! I will not have this. Stop this lewdness at once!”

Upon hearing it, Sweetie Belle didn’t care, and just kept on rubbing.

“Can she not understand me?” asked Rarity.

Well, in fact, ponydrones ignore almost everypony that goes against what their hiveminds tells them to do, and so most scolding and communications will not work. Stubborn mules, they are. Whatever you tell them, just gets sucked through their layers of rubbery mind and ignored. They can’t even remember what you told them, not that they can tell you what they told them.

While Rarity was listening to the narrator’s explanation, she saw Sweetie Belle's muzzle rub Apple Bloom’s bulge, and Scootaloo slapping her hoof against her own bulge.

“Not in my shop!” she exclaimed, as she took a broom and tried to get Sweetie Belle to stop and listen.

As expected, she didn’t, and thus Rarity resorted to one of her worst methods yet - using pins and needles! In a fit of rage, she threw them all at the ponydrones, thinking that they would get hurt.

Apparently, they did not. With the needles and pins on their rubber bodies, they just stood there, looking at Rarity.

“Why are you all looking at me?” asked Rarity, with just a huff and a puff, they deflated and inflated their bodies in an instant such that all the needles popped out of their bodies and flew everywhere around the boutique, striking into mannequins, shelf, and even ripping clothes and dresses.

“This is a disaster!” said Rarity, looking around, while the CMPs were mending the tiny holes from the needles in their skin by use of their latex fluid. Once they were repaired, the CMPs turned around and headed out of the boutique.

“Wait, where are you going!?” Rarity said with anger. “I won’t let you go, not after you destroyed my store!”

So, she chased after them, just to trip and fall down on some needles.

The CMPs turned around, looked at her one last time and panted, then turned around and left.

“Why? Why?” she cried, as she tried to get up, but no matter how she tried, she could not. Her legs were numb and unresponsive. “Why can’t I get up?”

She tried and tried, but no matter what, she could not get up. So, she tried to kick the needles on the floor away, when she realized that her hooves were now black!

Black! How could this be? She thought she must have been seeing things wrongly, but when she rubbed her eyes to get a clearer view, she found her eyes solidifying and stiffening until a hard transparent layer appeared where her eye used to be. Still being able to see, she found herself unable to move her eyes, and only being able to look around by turning her head.

While she was looking around, her hair changed from its smooth, silky purple form to become a darker and stiffer mohawk on top of her head, giving her a gothic look, with her new black ‘hair’ and hooves contrasting with her pale white skin. This would not last long, however, as from her head slowly crept down a yellow to her neck, and from her front hooves, the yellow latex was also crawling up her legs, as she felt her mind fading.

“What’s going on with me? Is this a new kind of fashion?” She went to look in the mirror, her numbness fading away as her legs became completely yellow. In the mirror, she could see that her eyes had become purple visors, the same of her hair. Her hair was now standing erect, and she was nearly completely yellow.

Her cutie mark changed to the radioactive sign, but by then she was too busy rubbing her bulge, intrigued by it. “I must touch, must rub, must punch!” she cried out, losing her consciousness with each interaction. It didn’t take long for her to lose her mind completely, finally turning into a ponydrone.

Still sitting in front of the mirror, she saw her own reflection in the mirror, and stood up, approaching the mirror, rubbing her bulge against the mirror, as if the reflection in the mirror was another ponydrone. She was completely a mindless ponydrone, a servant, no, a slave of pleasure, no matter the cost.

To be continued...