A/N Note to the video above Moda Makeup printer the kind mentioned in the bottom of the chapter - in case you think we are just making this stuff up from our imaginations or anything? Check out the Mink makeup colour printer for any arbitrary makeup colour. The robots turn this into a mode of oppression.

Image MYO arm band - it can pick up signals going to your fingers and send them to a computer faster than the signals actually get to your finger tips. Imagine this round your neck.

********

Nurse 911/3 came over.

"That was Araneae. You shouldn't judge her by her mean, cruel, ruthless exterior; underneath all that it's she's quite the cold, calculating, brutal slaughter house kind of a gal." she promised me while taking my pulse.

"Thanks, I feel that's so reassuring," I said. "How do you put up with all that abuse?"

"They are mostly stock statements. Please sign here to acknowledge you've been informed of the factory rules and your rights." she said, holding out a clipboard.

"No, I won't," I said, "you haven't told me my rights."

"Sort version. You don't have any. Now get up and get dressed 5642" she said forging my signature.

"Where?" I asked looking around but didn't see any clothes.

"Slaves! Stand in that machine over there. Simple enough for you? I'll schedule someone to show you the way to your dormitory. Before I was captured I was the top heart surgeon at Boston Massachusetts. Now I have to walk around as a nurse dressed like this! " the Nurse said sharply.

I didn't move I decided to stand up for myself.

The nurse picked up a remote control. One of those industrial robot arms you see in factories came down; it was hanging from a track in the ceiling. Before I knew it it had grabbed my arms. With a clanking sound, it pulled me towards a wardrobe-sized machine in the corner. It opened the doors and I saw a human outline inside, like a forensic body mark standing there.

"Welcome 5642 Enter the machine facing outwards. Place your hands and feet on the points marked. Say ready when you are in position," my collar instructed.

"Now get in," the nurse said.

"OK. OK. OK. I'll do it," I said getting the message. I continued getting in the box.

Inside there was a slope with foot marks. I felt like I was going to slip down but steadied myself with my hands.

"Ready," I said.

"Close your eyes," said the machine. The doors shut themselves around me. This freaked me out.

"The Dressomatic 2000 is one of the fastest slave dressing machines in its class", the mechanical wardrobe told me needlessly. My hands and feet seemed to be grabbed by something.

"Cleansing in progress," the wardrobe told me.

I felt lots of tiny pads running over my body. I was being washed all over. My hair was being put in a bag and I could feel water running over it.

"Cleansing complete. Hold still scanning, don't breathe" through the slits in my eyes I saw a bright laser light scanning me. I held my breath and something grabbed my head. It felt like something was vacuum forming around me. Then more hands grabbed my ears and I felt cold then pain. I let out a cry of pain at my ears being pierced. Yes, I didn't have pierced ears, so sue me. I opened my mouth to shout stop but as it did I something got pushed in and started to clamp its self over my teeth scrubbing. I felt my feet being crushed in some kind of vice. The bag on my hair came off and I could feel my hair being kind of simultaneously combed. After this I promised I would never go to a cheap car wash again.

Seconds later the doors opened and I opened my eyes.

"Thank you for using the Dressomatic 2000. You have been processed in 55 seconds. If you have enjoyed your experience why not like us on Facebook?"

"What do you think ?" asked the Nurse.

There was a full-length mirror in the dressing machine door. I looked down on myself in shame. I felt like I had been laminated. I was dressed from head to foot in a shiny black skin-tight one-piece unitard complete with tight gloves. It wrapped my toned body like a second skin. l looked like some comic book villainess with 5642 printed in white on the chest. My feet were wrapped in gleaming three-inch stilettos. I looked at my hands they were in perfectly fitted patent leather gloves. At least, I had a bit of support for my new breasts. I felt like I was a caterpillar emerging from its chrysalis to find it's self magically transformed into another weirdly goth caterpillar.

"Why am I dressed like Kate Beckinsale? When do we go trick or treating?" I asked. As far as I can tell the suit didn't come with super powers, evil plans or even pockets. I guessed the machines thought it was logical, they were clearly behind the fashion for leggings.

"Go put your face in the makeup printer," the Nurse said nodding at the machine.

"My personal style is really comfy: flats, tennis shoes, ponytails, no makeup," I said.

"Not another one! You heard her," said the nurse to the robot arm running on tracks in the ceiling. The arm came along and before I could move out of the way it grabbed my collar and pushed my face into the machine. It held me there while I heard lots of buzzing. I felt my lips being grabbed to be peeled back. The printer stopped and a robotic arm let go of my head.

I spotted some sultry fashion model in the mirror next to the printer and realized it was me. They had Instagram faced me. My face had been skillfully covered in makeup. I had been mugged by ultimate makeover. Bright red glossy lips, smoky dark eyes, matt flawless skin, it was wedding day quality work. I opened my mouth to find they had been to work on my teeth while I was out. Flawlessly white perfect teeth. I guessed Michael Apa was working for them.

"Why do I have to look like Kim Kardashian's stunt double? " I said. I looked out from layer after layer of concealer, full coverage foundation, six kinds of contour and highlighter. I was sexy, chiselled, slightly doll-like.

"Everything the robots know about people they got from the internet. The machines scanned Instagram and decided this is what all young women look like in real life. So it's the prescribed look for their e-slaves, " said the nurse. I realized we both sported the same extreme sexy goth makeover.

"But Look at me," I said, "I've got so much makeup on, a Marilyn Manson is going to look at me and go, 'wow, hold on there babe, I think you've overdone it a bit'."

The nurse sighed looked around and bent close "Three words of advice slave to slave. Don't believe what they tell you. Without a robot present, you can say what you like to another slave. Never let them get to you and we've won. Don't trust anyone; there are collaborators everywhere. If you're not sold, you don't walk out of here." the nurse whispered.

"That's four things," I said.

I knew what she said. I've seen enough movies to know that the guy who says 'don't trust anyone' is the guy who's going to betray you. Like I would fall for that one.

Before the nurse could say anything there was a knock at the door. I heard the sound of about six locks undoing. At the door was some gorgeous looking girl dressed in black like me. We had the same shoes, the same makeup and identical hairstyles. She had high cheekbones and lips like red mountains rising out of a scarlet sea. I stood there having my own Rita Ora & Kim Kardashian same party same pink dress awkward moment.

"Get out. 1066 here will take you to your dormitory and sort you out. She's recycled. You will need one of these" said the nurse walking over to a stack of books and dumping a large three-ring binder in my arms. She handed 1066 a printout.

"You don't have to look at yourself all the time, but your master does. Pull that no makeup stunt again and not only will you look like shit for the rest of the day, but the robots will just tattoo it on" she added as the girl 1066 opened the door into the corridor.

****

A/N What do you think of the clothing and makeup printers? We wondered if anybody would say they are quite liked the ability to just make or download the design then minutes later have the dress printed. What about shoes that would always fits perfectly? If you could print out clothes every day what do you think what happened to the fashion industry? We would be interested to find out what you thought everyone seems quite on the matter.