“You’ll meet us down in room 4C? Yes, I was thinking Subject G846. Yes, I think he’s a perfect example of the kind of results our methods can achieve. No, don’t worry about it, I’ll activate him. I want to show Mr. Vantenet what we’re able to do.”

Manisha Khepri, as she was known in the business (she knew far better than to use her actual name), led Mr. Vantenet through a maze of corridors, stairwells, and two separate elevators until he was completely turned around. This was, of course, intentional; there were several more direct routes she could have taken, but Manisha couldn’t have outsiders knowing their way around The Facility. All Mr. Vantenet would be able to discern was that they were deep, deep underground, especially with Manisha’s smooth voice making her sales pitch the whole way.

Eventually, they stopped at a door simply marked as 4C, just as she’d told the attendant, who was scurrying down the hallway from the opposite direction to meet them, on the intercom. The founder of The Facility and the prospective buyer waited patiently while the attendant caught up to them to open the door.

Manisha explained to Mr. Vantenet that Subject G846 had been acquired from a connection inside the military. He’d been involved in some sort of incident while on duty in his highly classified, highly specialized unit and was to be dishonourably discharged. Manisha’s connection had been asked to “take care of the problem” given that they couldn’t have someone with such secret intel and a potential grudge against the military just walking around. And so, he’d been discharged into the custody of The Facility. 

Mr. Vantenet was, therefore, quite shocked to see the state of the subject before him as the door to the cell, for that’s what it was, swung open. The former soldier, wearing only a hospital gown, was strapped down to what looked like a dentist’s chair. He was unmoving, completely limp save for the rise and fall of his chest with each slow breath in and out. He had an IV in one arm administering something Mr. Vantenet could not identify, and there was a bag hanging from the chair collecting urine through a catheter. 

Most notable, however, was the strange contraption on the subject’s head. It looked like a virtual reality headset, only much more high-tech, and with several restraints to prevent the subject from removing it. As the contraption was removed by the attendant, Mr. Vantenet could see that it consisted of a set of earphones, some sort of goggles, a nasal cannula (presumably to allow the subject to breathe), and a protrusion that went into the subject’s mouth. 

“Yes, so in addition to the brainwashing technology, we are able to further control the subject by controlling their access to hydration, nutrition, and even oxygen. The device is able to control the flow of air through the subject’s nose while sealing off the mouth entirely, so it is quite easy to encourage compliance. As well, the subject’s only access to water and nutritional fluid is to suck on the oral attachment, which helps to train his throat for clients who require a slave to provide sexual services in addition to the primary purpose of breaking down his will,” Manisha explained.

Leaving the IV in the subject’s arm, but disconnecting it from the pump with whatever drugs he was being injected with, the attendant took a few steps back and waited. Manisha approached the subject, who was just starting to stir and move his jaw around tentatively.

“That’s it, dear, take a few minutes and get your bearings. I know it can be disorienting to come out of your training like that.”

The subject seemed to come to life, struggling against the restraints. His struggles were short-lived, though, as he appeared to run out of strength quickly.

“You… fucking… bitch.”

The attendant took a step forward, perhaps to hook him back up to whatever drugs he was on, but Manisha simply put her hand up, indicating for them to stop, and raised one eyebrow at the subject.

He deflated.

“I’m sorry, Mistress Manisha,” he began to cry. “Please, please, I just want to go home. Please just let me go, please make it stop, I just want to go home.”

Mr. Vantenet stared in shock as this… this creature who had once been a strong, burly military man trained to withstand torture blubbered and begged to just go home. 

Manisha stroked the subject’s face, cooing and shushing at him as she wiped his tears away with a tissue. 

“So as you can see, Mr. Vantenet, our methods have quite successfully broken the subject down.”

Mr. Vantenet nodded silently.

“And now I can show you how we build him back up into whatever we need him to be. Please keep in mind that he is still being programmed, and some of his programming won’t take place until after purchase, as we can complete custom programming to the client’s exact specifications. During the transition, he has his natural mode, as you can see, and his programmed mode, which I’ll show you in a moment, but rest assured that by the time he is sent to his new owner, his programmed mode will be his permanent state.”

Manisha turned back to the subject and said in a clear voice, “Slave mode activate.”

The change that came over the subject was abrupt. He calmed immediately, his eyes no longer crying, but glassy and empty. 

“What is your name, slave?”

“My name is G846, Mistress Manisha.”

His voice sounded hollow and almost robotic.

“And your purpose?”

“To please Mistress Manisha.”

“That’s right, dear.” Manisha turned to Mr. Vantenet. “Feel free to talk to him if you wish.”

“Er, alright… how did you come to be here, boy?”

“I do not recall my time prior to The Facility.”

“Hmm, okay… how are you finding your training?”

“Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet.”

“Um… are you alright, boy?”

“Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet.”

Mr. Vantenet looked confusedly at Manisha.

“Oh, that’s just a placeholder response. It’s nonsense, like you find in graphical templates? He’s still in the beginning stages of his programming, so if something is too far from a programmed command, he doesn’t know how to respond, so he responds with the placeholder for now. Eventually, he’ll relearn how to interpret the intention behind commands again and respond a bit more naturally, especially once we start to customize his programming for his new owner.”

After waiting a moment to see if Mr. Vantenet had anything else to say, Manisha nodded at the attendant, who reattached the subject’s IV to the pump, restarting the flow of the mysterious drugs into his veins.

“Slave mode deactivate,” she said curtly as she led Mr. Vantenet out of the cell. 

The last thing Mr. Vantenet saw when he looked back before the door shut behind him was the subject weakly attempting to shake its head as the attendant tightened the straps sealing the oral attachment back into its mouth.