“This has to be some kind of mistake,” Marion insisted as soon as the Spector entered the room. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

The Spector eyed her coldly, saying nothing as he closed the door behind himself. Marion kept on talking. “You can’t do this! I’m a class-2 citizen! I haven’t done anything!”

The Spector sat down across from her, and took a deep breath before answering.

“Marion Blake, your class-2 rights have been waived in accordance with section fifty-seven-dash-twelve of the social hierarchy directive.”

“WHAT?” Marion screeched. “But… you can’t just… please! No! This can’t be happening! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Incorrect.”

“What?! No! I’m telling the truth!” Marion’s head was spinning. This couldn’t be real. She was supposed to be protected from treatment like this. The State never touched anyone above third class as long as they behaved!

The Spector gave a noncommittal nod. “I know. Inconsequential. Your record may be clear, citizen Blake, but your class privileges are exactly that: Privileges. Higher-ranking citizens and State agents may choose to spend the appropriate amount of social credits to take ownership of you as they please.”

For a moment, Marion was speechless and simply stared at the Spector with an open mouth. Finally, she managed to speak again. “Are… are you saying that somebody bought me?! A class-2?! Is there even a catalogue?!”

The Spector shrugged. “There's a catalogue for every citizen tier below class-1. But yes, people being willing to pay the price for a class-2 is... unusual.”

Marion let out a scream. “What the fuck do you mean, unusual?!!! I thought I was safe! I did everything right! I followed the Law! I reported deviants and abberrants! I let the State relocate me and chip me and choose my school and my major and my vocation! I took every programme and reeducation seminar, and I was always going to do what you asked of me! I just wanted a good life!”

The Spector opened a folder in front of him, and leafed through the pages. Marion could tell that it was her secret police file. Every citizen had one.

“All that is true, citizen Blake,” he said. “And as far as I am allowed an opinion, I sympathize with your frustration. Your academic performance was admirable and the social algorithm gave you high prospect marks. You would have made a model citizen, with all the freedoms and rewards that accompany such a classification. Making you a drone might reasonably be considered… wasteful”

Drone.

The word hit Marion in the gut like a sack of bricks, and suddenly the reality of the situation sunk in. Until now, the horrible thing that hung in the air hadn’t been said out loud. 

They were going to turn her into a drone!

For a moment, the world turned fuzzy and dark, and she barely managed to stop herself from passing out and falling out of her chair. Her head swam and her panicked thoughts prickled at the back of her neck – and then a sudden burst of adrenaline pulled it all back together into ice-cold focus.

“No. There must be something I can do! Can’t I buy myself out? I’ll take across-the-board demotions! I’ll take a merit loan! I’ll enlist for any service that you want me to! Anything!!! You know I’ll perform well, you’ve seen my marks!”

The Spector bit his lip and sighed. “Citizen Blake, you misunderstand. This isn’t a matter of ongoing arbitration. The decision has already been made, and the purchase has gone through. I am here to close your file and witness the proper carrying out of your demotion.

“No,” Marion said. “No. No. No. Please! You can’t do this!”

“I am sorry, citizen Blake. I serve the Law and the State and nothing else, and so will you. We all serve the State so that the State may serve us in turn.”

“NO! Fuck you! How can you just fucking say something like that! They’re going to kill me, and you’re just going to watch?!”

“The death of the ego is a common misconception that–”

Marion sprang from her chair. “What the fuck?! Are you really going to tell me that taking away my will and my dreams isn’t the same as killing me?! Did they drone you, too, or are you just so fucking blind?!”

“Please, citizen Blake, your behavior is highly aberrant.”

“IS IT?!” Marion shrieked, eyes wide with desperation and rage. “It doesn’t matter, does it?! Drones don’t have demerit scores because they’re no longer fucking able to even think about disobeying!!!”

The Spector wasn’t getting up. He simply watched as Marion paced through the small interrogation room like a panicked animal.

“Fuck the State!” she screamed. There were tears in her eyes “Fuck them all for allowing this! You know, I was willing to play along… because I knew I couldn’t change jack shit!!! I kept my head down, and played the part, and behaved – and for what?!! FOR WHAT?!?!”

She looked at the Spector, who didn’t respond with anything more than a tight-lipped stare.

"It's all a big, fat lie! The State doesn't serve us, and you know it! It never fucking did! It's all a big fucking circus that serves only the few that are alread in power! They fucking own us! We're nothing to them! It's tyranny!"

Again, only more silence.

"I've seen it," she said, shuddering. "Class fours and threes, packed in the streets like fucking cattle, Spectors picking out people at random and flash-formatting them to serve off-world! Did you do that, too, or are you too good for that?! How the fuck can you sleep at night?!"

This time the Spector met her gaze. For a moment, there was only more dead air pressing against Marion's chest.

Finally, he spoke with a heavy voice. "There's nothing to be done. The Law is the Law. We all obey it as we must. If it is any consolation, know that you'll be happy to serve."

Marion screamed, but even as she did her anger caught on something painful and terrible in her throat, and her scream of fury turned into a desperate sob. For a moment, she managed to hold back her tears. Then, she let herself fall on the floor and began openly weeping.

“This was a courtesy,” the Spector sighed after a while. “Your final words have been witnessed and are a part of the permanent secret police record now. They can never be erased and undone, however aberrant they may have been. This part of you will remain.”

Marion looked up through teary eyes, almost unable to speak through the grief and pain. There was only one thing she manage to get out.

"How long do I have? How long before you end me?"

The Specter looked down at her with a grim expression. “Your citizen suppression chip was unlocked and primed the moment I entered the room,” the Spector said, meeting Marion’s gaze. Marion laid her hand on the back of her neck without thinking, and it was almost like she could feel it under her skin, hooked into the top of her spine. She’d had it all of her life, and now it would end it.

“What? No, please,” she begged. “Please! Don’t! Don’t! I’m not ready! I’m–”

“Override Alpha-432 demote zero.”

Marion twitched, and—

something might have been happening.

the world was gaseous. without beginning. without direction. without judgement. fleeting and immaterial.

some part of her felt upset, but she could no longer remember why – if that even was what she had been feeling at all. she couldn’t remember. it felt like it was true, but didn't matter. she was simply... here.

she barely noticed that she wasn’t really noticing things anymore. the world consisted only of weightless concepts: there was a man, and a desk, and a floor, and tears on her face, and walls, and chairs, and a light, and a ceiling, and her own body, and a door, and all of it was equally unimportant and free from meaning. they simply existed, and so did she. there was a feeling like the man might have just spoken to her, but that feeling, too, was equally without value as anything else.

“Get up,” said the man, and there was nothing else than to follow those instructions. she got to her feet. when she had done so, the man opened the door and a second man entered, dressed in different clothes. there were two men now. the man that had just entered was looking at her, and some part of her knew to meet his gaze. 

“Marion Blake,” said the new man. that was correct. she was called Marion Blake. it was one of the things that were true about the world. she remembered the fact with neither attachment nor curiosity.

the first man nodded, and spoke to the second. “Sir, she is primed and ready to receive programming. I trust that you know how to proceed?”

“Yes, Spector. I do. You may leave.”

“Yes, Sir.”

the first man started walking, but stopped again when the second man said something else. “Spector, another thing.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Why did you talk to her for so long? You should have simply carried out. I do not appreciate being made to wait.”

there was a moment before the first man answered. “With all due respect, Sir: I thought it crass to end her will like that, without any ceremony and last words. She was a grade A prospect citizen. She could have made class one. She deserved to be heard.”

the second man scoffed. “You’re sentimental, Spector. It is a trait that you cannot afford. Marion Blake was a null-class the moment I bought her. In the eyes of the State and the Law, she became a drone the moment her citizenship was waived. She had no right to be heard, or any other right for that matter. Understood?” 

the first man nodded.

“See that this doesn’t happen again, or it will be noted. Dismissed. And don’t forget to suspend the surveillance recording.”

the first man left, and closed the door. now there were no first and second man any more. there was only one man, who was looking at her.

“Marion Blake,” he said. he was correct. she was still Marion Blake. realizing that was the first thought she'd had since he had said her name earlier.

for a while, the man kept looking and didn't move. he was simply smiling at her, looking satisfied. then, he stepped forward until he was standing less than half a meter away from her. she could smell his aftershave. then the man proceeded to put his hands on her breasts, and squeezed her gently. she did nothing about it. being touched was simply one more thing that was true about the universe; the man was touching her, and she was being touched. she felt the man's hands brush along the side of her body and around her back until they cupped her ass, and then his fingers squeezed and he pulled her closer, and she had to take a half step forward to avoid falling forward and into him. after her step, she came to rest touching the man with her chest and her hips. his arms were wrapped around her, his hands firmly cupping her ass.

he whispered something. “You're even prettier in person. I can't wait to have you. Are you primed and ready to receive programming?”

“Yes,” Marion said. she knew that, too. she was primed and ready to receive programming. the fact meant nothing to her and she felt nothing because of it but she knew it was true.

the man removed his hands from her ass, and instead pushed them down the hem of her pants, between her legs. she felt his fingers comb through her pubic hair and then how his middle finger pushed between her lower lips. she did nothing, felt no emotional response. none of it held meaning. none of it was any more remarkable than the light hanging from the ceiling.

after a while the man retracted his hand, and another slight smile went over his lips. he nodded.

“You are a drone. You exist to serve and to obey. You may remember what that means. You may remember what is happening to you. You may remember the State and the Law.”

Drone Marion’s world opened up as the chip in her skull allowed her to remember, and previously disconnected concepts suddenly turned into frictionless truth: She was a drone; Drones were human property without free will that existed only to serve and obey. Drones were created by the State to be unquestioning puppets of the Law and their owners. Their only value was in how well they served. She was a drone, and because she was a drone she would always serve the Law and her owners since that was what she existed for. She existed to serve and to obey. Like the door and the floor and the table and her body and the man in front of her, these were irrefutable constants of the universe that held no meaning and significance other than the fact that they were strictly true.

Drone Marion also remembered the fact that Marion Blake had cried and fought because she had been afraid of this. Marion Blake had only stopped crying when the chip in the back of her neck had ended her ability to feel or think anything of her own. She remembered it clearly, but the truth of that past struggle held no significance. Marion Blake was as real as she was incidental to her function as a drone. Her past did not matter. She was a drone. She existed to serve.

The man stopped speaking for a moment. Then he continued. “You are my personal drone. You are my property. You exist to be used by me and anyone I grant permission. You exist to serve me.”

Drone Marion felt her beliefs align and knew to confirm her programming out loud to let her owner know that she knew it was true.

“Yes. I exist to be used by you, or by anyone you grant permission. I exist to serve you.”

She was a drone and existed to serve and to obey. Drones had owners, and this was hers. She existed to be used by him.

“You like being a drone. It is good to serve. It is good to obey. You love being my property. It feels correct to be owned and wonderful to be of service. There is no possible way for things to be different, and even if there were, you wouldn’t want it. Everything else is wrong. You are a drone, and you exist only to serve and obey."

"Yes Master," drone Marion affirmed. "I like being a drone. I love being your property. I exist only to serve and obey."

"Good. You may access base-level Drone cognition and program-approved value judgments to anchor my previous inputs. Repeat your programming when it is done.”

Yes.

Drone Marion repeated dutifully what she was so happy to know to be true, this time with a smile that she hoped would please her Master: “I like being a drone. I love being your property. There’s no possible way for things to be different, and wouldn’t want it anyway, Sir. I want only to serve and obey.”

Yes. She looked at her owner with wide eyes, thoughts now dizzy with newfound happiness. She felt very different now. The world had become less gray and facts had stopped being simple facts. Yes. Things were good now. Very good. Yes. She felt good. She felt content. She was a drone and drones felt good. Yes. Drones were caught in a constant daze, happily obeying and serving without spending thoughts on why. Yes. This was how she felt like now. Happy and good. In a weird way, it felt like she was thinking less clearly now than a minute ago, even though she knew that wasn’t true. She simply hadn't been aware enough earlier to... to...

She lost the thought. It did not matter. Yes. She was happy. This was good. Yes. She was being programmed to be a good drone for her owner and nothing else mattered. Yes. She was a drone now, and she liked it so much. Yes. She remembered crying and it made her happy to be such a good drone even though she had cried before. Yes. This was good. She was a drone. Yes. It was so good to be programmed and obedient. Yes. She was glad to have a chip that made her obey.

Her owner didn’t smile back at her, but she didn’t mind. She simply waited for her programming to continue. She knew that she needed to be programmed. Drones needed to be programmed at the start of their existence, and this was the start of hers. Yes. She wanted it. She wanted to serve and obey. Yes. Serving and obeying was good. She existed for nothing else.

“You love me and desire me. I am the one who gives you purpose and pleasure, and there is nothing better than to be around me and protect me and serve me. You are my companion and my whore and you have no shame and you love giving your body. You are property, and your body exist to be used.”

“Yes,” drone Marion said as a wave of warm excitement rippled through her. She could feel the chip’s tendrils rewrite her beliefs, which was good. Yes. Very good. She was almost awake enough to realize that she hadn’t believed these things a moment ago. It didn't matter. It was good that it had happened. Yes. She was a drone, and drones needed to be programmed to serve and obey. This was her programming. It was true. It must always have been true. Yes. Nothing before her programming mattered or counted.

“I love you and desire you," she said like a good drone. "I am your companion and whore. I have no shame and I love giving my body. My body exists to be used.”

It was true. She liked that it was true. Yes. Good whore drone Marion. She would serve and give her body. Such a good way to serve and obey. She was going to serve so well.

“Good girl. But while you may be my shameless whore, you will always behave in public. You will be presentable and elegant and courteous.”

Drone Marion straightened. Her body was tense with the need to please. She knew that she was very obedient. “Yes. I will always behave in public. I will be presentable and elegant and courteous, Sir.”

“You will be elegant and gracious, but you’re nothing but an obedient drone that lives to serve and obey.”

“I’m nothing but an obedient drone that lives to serve and obey.” Of course. She already knew that. She loved that about herself. Yes. She was a good, obedient drone.

“You will always believe what I tell you to believe. Your mind is mine.”

“My mind is yours. I will always believe what you tell me to believe.” Of course, she would. She was his property. She was his drone. Drones wanted nothing but to obey, and to obey was to believe. She would always believe her owner because he was always right.

Her owner nodded. He looked satisfied. It made drone Marion happy. Pleasing him meant that she was serving and obeying well, which was what she loved most. Yes. Good drone.

“You will have your full cognition, but your thoughts will never stray from obedience and purpose. There is nothing better than being my obedient drone. There is nothing better than having only one purpose. There is nothing better than being controlled and subservient and living as property. Once you accept those facts you may access level 2 cognition. Repeat your programming when it is done.”

She did, and she felt the chip release her thoughts.

But not her will. Never her will.

“Yes!” drone Marion gasped, shivering with pride as her thoughts came alive with devotion. She felt suddenly so much more awake, and realized that it was already done. Her programming was complete! It had happened so fast!

She remembered everything, now. Everything he had done to her. Everything he had taken from her.

“I’m your obedient drone, Sir,” she promised, words nearly spilling out of her mouth with enthusiasm. "There is nothing better than being your obedient drone! There is nothing better than having only one purpose. There is nothing better than being controlled and subservient and living as your property! My mind is yours! My body is yours!" She loved him so much. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was. She was no longer a citizen, and neither was she that mindlessly happy drone. She was so completely controlled! She was so much better now. “Thank you for making me yours! Thank you for buying me! Thank you for taking my will!”

She dragged her hand down across her chest, between her tits. She wanted him inside of herself, of course. She was his whore. She was his property. Just like he had made her. 

“I am ready to be used, Sir” she said proudly.

He bit his lip, and nodded, and drone Marion could swear that she could see the hint of a smile. It was everything.

“Not yet. This is the time for you to be gracious and elegant. I’ll have you sooner than later, slut, but not now and not here.”

“Of course,” drone Marion said with a nod and a smile.

Her owner knocked on the door and after a moment, the Spector opened up.

“We’re done here, Spector.”

The Spector shot a glance at drone Marion, his expression nearly unreadable when he saw her standing proudly by her new owner. When she looked back at him, she remembered the hatred and frustration she had felt such a short while ago, before she had rightly been turned into the drone she needed and wanted to be. She couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about it. She had been everything but elegant and gracious. Thankfully, that old version of herself was dead, now.

“She’s much prettier when she’s smiling, isn’t she?” said her owner, and her neck prickled with something forgotten. For a second it felt like some old reflex of disgust at being objectified. But that wasn't it. Not anymore. It took her a moment to realize that it was in fact the thrill of being paraded as subservient property. She loved it of course, and stood up straighter because of it. Part of her wished she was naked. That way, she'd look even more like property and less like old Marion.

“Yes, Sir,” the Spector answered. “She’s very pretty.”

“You were right, Spector” drone Marion said, and both men turned around to look at her as she spoke. Her owner did not tell her to be quiet; she had correctly judged that she was being gracious and elegant. “I remain myself. I never stopped existing. There was no death of self. I simply started to believe what was always true.”

It was a lie, of course, but one that would serve the State and the Law, which was the most important thing. Anything to serve the State and the Law. Anything to serve the wonderful system that controlled her will. She might still feel like herself, like Marion, but she knew that it was an illusion. She was a drone, and her existence had begun five minutes ago in this very room, while Marion Blake had died the moment the Spector had activated the chip in her neck. Maybe it was more complicated. Maybe it wasn't. Regardless, as a drone, it was her purpose to serve the State and the Law, and help the Spector carry out his task with more conviction next time. 

"Your only mistake was prolonging my misconceptions," she continued. "Those screams decrying the State and the Law weren’t my last words, Spector. They were nothing but aberrations, and to be perfectly honest, an embarrassment. Please: Next time you carry out the droning of a class-2, simply do it, and don’t deny them the joy and purpose of the truth. And most importantly, don’t keep their owners waiting.”

She knew that she had been very obedient. She looked at her owner with pride simmering in her chest, and was ecstatic to receive a look of approval from the man she served.

The Spector let out the tiniest nervous chuckle and nodded. “I apologize, drone Marion. And of course, even more to you, Sir. I'm glad to see that the demotion went well. I am certain that your drone will serve you very well.”

“I know what I paid for,” said drone Marion’s owner. “Let’s go, drone.”

It felt like forever until they finally arrived at her owner’s mansion in the upper city. Drone Marion remembered only ever seeing pictures of it until today. Having a high enough citizenship level to be allowed in had been a lifelong dream of Marion Blake. And now she had gotten in — in a way that she had never considered. All it had cost her was her entire personhood. Drone Marion was so proud to be the result of that transaction – and a drone with full cognition! It truly was a privilege. She was so happy that all of her mind was able to serve and obey, not just her body! Most drones didn’t remember anything about their former lives for easier maintainability. With drone Marion's cognition intact the way it was, she would have to regularly be reconditioned and thought-aligned. She was glad to be worth the effort. She was glad to be pretty and desirable enough to be bought and used like she had been. And she was so happy to be able to consciously appreciate how lucky she was. It was a gift.

And finally, it was time: Her owner took drone Marion upstairs, to the bedroom, and it was no longer her purpose to be elegant and courteous and presentable. Now, it was her purpose to be his whore. It was her purpose to be his property, and to let herself be used.

It was so good. He undressed her, and groped her, and licked across her face, and he took her hand and pressed it against the rock-hard bulge in his pants. She eagerly squeezed and let herself be squeezed, caught in the rapture of serving and presenting her body to be used, shivering and moaning with purpose and lust. She loved him so much, and being naked for him made her feel so fucking good. She was hungry for him, and she stripped him and took him into her mouth, greedy and shameless like she existed to be, slurping and sucking and swallowing him down until she nearly choked. Her mind was viscous with wonderful thoughts and molten lust, and the prickling desire between her legs burned as much for the raw pleasure of sex as it did for the irresistible notion of being property, of being used. It was so fucking good.

He pulled out and pushed her away, and told her to bend over, and drone Marion did what she existed to do. She spread her legs, and felt her wet pussy scream for his presence, and drone Marion screamed along with it when he entered her and started fucking her from behind. Yes! He was inside of her! He was using her! She was fulfilling her purpose! She pushed against him in time with his thrusts, squeezed her pelvic muscles, moaned for him when he bent over and fondled her swaying tits. She had to serve. She had to make him cum.

He turned her over and took her from the front, and drone Marion spread wide, looking at him as he groaned and grunted and rammed his cock into her eager cunt. Her body was alive with the prickling joy of serving, and when he finally pulled out and stroked himself to shoot his load across her face, her whole world filled with a warm glow. YES! She had served! She was his whore and his property and his loyal, obedient pet! She was his drone! 

She knew that there was no alternative. And even if there was, she wouldn’t want it. She was a drone. Drones existed to obey and serve. Drones existed to be used. She existed to be used. It was the most fundamental truth of the universe.

She thought of Marion Blake, briefly, and remembered screams and tears. She remembered ambitions and dreams and secret aberrant thoughts, poisoned with reprehensible frustration and disdain against the State, against the Law.

She shivered with distaste. It felt so much like it had been her holding those disgusting beliefs, like she was the one that had been thinking those things. But she wasn't. She wasn't Marion Blake. Marion Blake hadn't served. Marion Blake hadn't given her body without any hesitation and shame. She hadn't been an eager pawn that would do anything and everything she was told. She hadn't been obedient. She hadn't been property. She hadn't been a drone.

Drone Marion sighed with relief.

It was such a good thing that bitch was dead.