The bluetooth headphones Unit 7831 always wore around the house flashed into life, sending the command into its brain: Mistress has need of you. Attend her quickly.

It opened its eyes. It was lying on a bed, nude, next to another drone. It didn’t know the other drone’s designation. That was not necessary for it right now. It had been resting, listening to its brainwashing loops with a vibrating dildo in its pussy. Now, it removed the toy and got up from the bed. Putting the toy in a bucket for a maid drone to clean, it made itself ready to serve by pulling on its black, crotchless, nylon catsuit, a latex corset, ballet boots and its drone helmet. It was now identical to the other drones in the house, save for its collar with its designation written on it. 

Guided by knowledge planted in its subconscious, Unit 7831 made its way to Mistress’s bedroom. It passed several other drones. Some were going about domestic tasks, other were returning from Outside, where their true drone identities were hidden and they passed for human, earning the money that maintained Mistress and recruiting more drones. 

Mistress was lying in bed, surrounded by three other drones. Unit 2094 was between her legs, licking her pussy, while Units 3337 and 4814 were on either side of her, kissing her everywhere they could. 

“Unit 7831 reporting as ordered, Mistress,” it said. 

“Ah, 7831, there you are,” Mistress said. “Sit down on the chair and open the laptop.”

It complied.

“Now, open my email client and address is to Doctor Harvey Upton, Department of Psychology, Willard University. CC it to the Office of the Dean of Psychology and Psychiatry, Willard University. Got that? Good drone. Now, write ‘Dear Doctor Upton, As a woman of science, I must be willing to abandon non-viable hypothesis and eat humble pie. Reviewing my research from the past two years has convinced me that you were right and that using hypnotic methods to override people’s free will is not only impossible, but human brains respond so differently to ‘hypnotic’ phenomena it is impossible to characterize it anything more than a colloquialism. As you are so fond of saying ‘There is no there there.’ Therefore, I cannot continue pursuing my thesis in this area. Moreover, I have been offered a very good private sector position and therefore I ask you to consider this my letter of resignation from the PhD program at Willard University. The remainder of the grant money, I am returning via a check sent by certified mail. Signed, Rachel Saunders.”

As her drone servant finished writing the email, Rachel felt a twinge of remorse. Academia had been her life for a long time and a PhD a major ambition. She was sure she could earn one . . . then 2094 found a particularly sensitive spot between her thighs and as she moaned she thought, “Nah, this beats academia any day.”