You are immediately led by the man in the business suit to a small room that looks more like an interrogation room than anything else. You
are seated at a small wooden table on a chair that seems to be a bit too short and are given an anachronistic pile of forms to fill out. On
one side of the room is the door you came in and on the other is one with a high-security keypad. Opposite you is a large mirror from which
you assume you are being monitored. The suited man stands over your shoulder and directs you to sign on the dotted line repeatedly, the
scent of his cologne not unpleasant but slightly overwhelming, as he spews out nonsensical legal jargon until you are dumbfounded and
confused.
"And lastly, sign here to release all claims of personhood" he says in a slightly more urgent form of his deadpan delivery. You sign.
"Congratulations, I declare you are now property of Neotransit Incorporated. Henceforth the vessel in-production will be referred to as
Rigid Airship number 174" he says. Gathering up all the paperwork he quickly departs without even saying goodbye.
You are left in the examination room alone for what seems like an hour. You try the door you came in but find that it is locked. A sudden
rush of helplessness washes over you for the first time. You take a few steps back and sit down. The moment you do the other door opens up
and a security officer stomps in escorting a bearded bespectacled scientist with a gut. The muscles on the goons is swollen to inhuman
proportions and the buttons on their uniforms seem like they are about to burst. Despite their savage appearance, the goons seem incredibly
well-trained and disciplined, almost as if following orders to a T gave them immense pleasure. You could almost smell the nanites oozing off
the goons.
One of the security goons stands by the side of the scientist like a loyal dog while the other holding a box labeled "RA-174" sets it on the
table in front of you. The six foot tall hulk merely glares at you from below the brim of his cap and barks to you, "Strip." Overwhelmed and
without thinking you immediately take your shirt off and throw it into the box. After a moment's hesitation and a look into the steely eyes
of the goon you start to take of your shoes and pants a well. Soon you are just in your underwear.
"Take everything off, RA-174" the scientist says in a warm paternal yet detached tone as he glances up from his tablet. You stare at the
scientist with a look of "you gotta be kidding" for a moment before you feel two big meaty hands digging into the waistband of your briefs
and stripping the last of your decency away. You can't help but blush as your throbbing cock dripping with pre is exposed. The scientist
makes a note of your arousal.