Four chairs. Side by side. All filled. By women.

The women are masked. Restrained. Barefoot. They are not asleep. But neither are they quite awake.

Dome shaped helmets hang over each woman's head. Whirs. Hums. Pulses of light. All emanate from the devices. The women react minimally to the stimuli. An occasional moan. A sigh. The twitching of fingers or toes.

Before, the women were awake. Then they reacted much more strongly. Pleas. Struggles. Resistance. All faded in time. Into their current, sleepy indifference.

The devices did their jobs. And continue to do them.

I verify data from each chair. On each woman. My readouts indicate the expected progress. Suggestibility heightened exponentially. Obedience instilled infallibly. They are ready. I initiate the next phase. It begins.

Suggestions. Instructions. Commands. All feed into the women's receptive minds. All take root. All modify their thoughts. Behaviors. Memories. All repeat. Reinforce. Over and over. And over. And over.

I make notes for my final report: Brainwashing underway. On schedule. The subjects will abide by laws. Mandates. Recommendations. Common sense. Based on science. Factual data. They will wear masks in public. They will isolate when possible. Socially distance themselves when not. Encourage those around them to do the same.

It is time to check in on the other subjects. I walk to the next room. Open the door. Enter.

Two couches. Side by side. Four more women seated on them. Also masked. Barefoot. Not asleep, but neither quite awake.

These women are not restrained. No devices reside above their heads. Their attention is focused on a large screen before them. The screen projects colors. Shapes. Patterns. They move. Glide. Swirl. Flare. Flash.

Before, the women were awake. They watched the screen willingly. Thought it would provide them with information. For a test group they were part of. They didn't realize it would captivate them. Enthrall them. Mesmerize them.

The screen did its job. And continues to do it.

I verify data from the screen. On each woman. My readouts indicate the expected progress. Suggestibility heightened exponentially. Obedience instilled infallibly. They are ready. I initiate the next phase. It begins.

Suggestions. Instructions. Commands. All feed into the women's receptive minds. All take root. All modify their thoughts. Behaviors. Memories. All repeat. Reinforce. Over and over. And over. And over.

I make notes for my final report: Hypnotic conditioning underway. On schedule. The subjects will resist attempts to persuade them. Intimidate them. Coerce them. Pressure them. Lull them into complacency. They will rail against the new site interface. Eclipse. Its poor design. Its lesser functionality. They will speak out against it. Encourage those around them to do the same.

Checking the time, I return to the first room. And the four women there.

The data from each chair tells me that the process is complete. The women are ready. I release their restraints. Tell them they may leave. All but one, who I single out.

The other three stand up. Still not asleep, but neither quite awake. They exit. Walking slowly. Purposefully. Bare feet near silent upon the floor. They will not remember. Nor know. But they will obey.

The fourth woman remains as she was. I have chosen her for a reason. I find her most attractive among the group. I instruct her. Stand. Follow me. She does as I say.

We walk back to the other room. And the other women.

The data from the screen tells me that the process is complete. The women are ready. I tell them they may leave. All but one, who I single out.

The other three stand up. Still not asleep, but neither quite awake. They exit. Walking slowly. Purposefully. Bare feet near silent upon the floor. They will not remember. Nor know. But they will obey.

The fourth woman remains as she was. I have chosen her for a reason. The same reason I chose the other who stands beside me. I instruct her. Stand. Follow me. She does as I say.

The three of us exit. We walk to another room. Open the door. Enter.

The floor here is plushly carpeted. Their bare feet make no sound as they move across it. Nor do they react to the luxurious feel of the fibers beneath their soles.

But I react. I smile. I love the feeling under my feet. Which are bare. Like theirs. Like those of all of Master's slaves.

We approach Master. I give him my final report on the subjects. He approves of my work. Then I present to him his two newest slaves. Again, approval.

Master's work for the day is done. He states his desires. We acknowledge. Provide. Fulfill. Until he is sated.

All in a day's work. For me. For the two new slaves. For now. Forever.