***Note to readers: this story includes nonconsent, violence and mind-control elements. Needless to say, all of this belongs in the realm of fantasy, just like a violent movie or video game.***
Sinn hopped out of his jet, pure excitement. "New one, Princeton grad, $50k, Desi." The text had sprung things into motion and now, 36 hours later, he was on the other side of the world in a remote part of the Mongolian steppe.
You wouldn't know it from the facilities, though. As the Tesla that had collected him from the runway drove him through the gates and onto the grounds he marveled at the Oasis. The main building of the clinic was a pagoda of gleaming white stucco- outside the gates the roads were packed gravel, inside they were smooth asphalt, as if laid yesterday. The corporation spared no expense to the point of ostentatiousness, he thought. One day some overeager Google Earth scroller would see the manicured grounds that emerged out of wavy grasses, the barbed wire topped walls that neatly surrounded them and the nearby landing strip and suspect it was a hidden military base. Around the main building were a series of villas, each built of the same smooth whiteness that made them seem almost like outcroppings, as if there was a larger white pagoda buried beneath the bright green grass and each of them was just a crenelation of a larger, submerged whole.
The car arrived at the front of the main building and the driver, a small Mongolian man with a halfhearted mustache wearing an expensive, tailored suit that dispelled any shabbiness from his affect, swung around to open his door. "Welcome back, Mr. Sinn" he said graciously, "we're very pleased to have you join us."
The lobby gleamed, all white marble with high ceilings that eagerly swallowed the clack of his leather heels. A receptionist smiled up at him, a radiant blonde in a gray pencil skirt and white blouse cut just aggressively enough to border on demeaning. "Mr. Sinn, it is my pleasure to see you again," she said without blinking, staring up at him with big watery eyes. He stared back quizzically, then his face broadened into a smile of understanding. "Cerise, this is a surprise. I didn't realize you had opted to stay." She shrugged. "The corporation is persuasive," she said matter of factly, "as were you." She rested her thin pale hand on the sleeve of his suit jacket with enough extra force to have meaning. "I'll take you to see the director now. If you need anything while you're here, I stay in room 1201."
She pivoted and led him down a long white hallway, hips swiveling on three inch heels. Sinn had to struggle to keep from flashing a boyish grin. *Oasis indeed. I may just pay her a visit on my way out.*
He stepped out of the elevator into the Director's office, a glass-walled hexagon that sat atop the main building with views of the steppe in every direction. To the west, a reddish sun was beginning to set behind a jagged edge of far flung peaks. The director was an impressive man, dark skinned and bald and wearing a gleaming white suit, he had the look of a character from the Hunger Games. Sinn had never learned his name and wouldn't believe it if he got one- people like this knew how to keep things close to the vest. He had taken to calling him Dir.
Sinn led off "I understand you've found what I'm looking for, Dir. Let's hope it goes better than my last."
"That's up to you." Dir stood up from his expansive white desk. He liked to do stand, Sinn thought, to make it clear that he was in absolute control of the situation and facts. No notes required. This was Sinn's sixth visit to Dir's office and he was beginning to pick up on patterns like that. "Alice progressed very well under my care, in fact she's still with me today."
Sinn felt a pang of jealousy- Alice was a real beauty, Spanish and dark haired with Grecian curves.
"Ah well, live, learn and improve. Tell me about the new one."
"We got her the old fashioned way- a post-graduation job posting on the job boards of a set of Ivy League schools. Women's health in rural China, $80k per year to visit villages and do vaccinations." He chuckled to himself. "Undergrads, they have no idea when something's too good to be true. Name's Shivya Patel, She's been here for about 8 hours, thinks she's waiting on the program director to arrive. She's probably just starting to get a bit nervous. Women and Gender studies, 3.9 GPA, daughter of a pair of surgeons who moved from Punjab to Ohio together with her when she was five. She's estranged from her parents, they want her to get an arranged marriage but she's dated exclusively white men so far."
Sinn exhaled. *Bingo.* "Sounds promising. Psychology?"
"She's stable, and a real pistol. High openness, low agreeableness. Was disciplined at school for slapping a boy across the face for looking at her the wrong way. In her comprehensive health disclosure she disclosed that she's slept with three people, two of who while drunk at parties and the last a boyfriend she dated for a month. Six instances of intercourse total."
"Legal status?"
"Even estranged she'll probably be reported missing by friends in a few weeks, so you'd have to take some care if you do choose to keep her. We can have our background consultants work up a cover story."
"I presume the villa is equipped to my specifications?"
"Of course, Mr. Sinn. Everything you might need." Dir's eyes sparkled in a way that churned even Sinn's stomach a bit. *The bastard loves this.* "I look forward to seeing the results of your work." After his failure with Alice Dir was happy to make this a challenge.
As Sinn made his way to the villa he wondered what approach to take. His last turn had been six months prior and for a change he had eschewed the drugs to make it a challenge- after two weeks she was still unbroken demanding release, and he reluctantly turned her over to Dir for more persuasive techniques. The two prior he'd taken the aggressive route- beatings, hallucinogenic drugs, hypnosis, humiliation. Before that, Cerise's fall had been gentle, a drug aided decline from her previous job as a management consultant into docile servitude. He could still remember the moment she came on the cocktail of Delesson and Ensnarin, the orgasm activated drugs that drained the last of her intelligence and independence after he had carefully whittled them down to their cores. She was so sweet for that next day, then despondent when he had left back to New York, begging him to take her with him. *That's the sad thing,* he thought idly, *they're most interesting during the taking and then good for nothing*. At least, not for him. Some men seemed to get off on docility reliably and lived to build up diverse little harems. The corporation gladly obliged. Sinn had never been that way, his joy was in the turning.
He swiped the fob and there she was, watching an episode of Girls on a screen that took up most of the living room's wall. *If that didn't make her suspicious she's more a child of privilege than I thought.*
She jumped up and strode towards him, her face all accusatory fear. She knew something was wrong. *Smart girl.* He paused a bit to take it all in. She was thin where it counted, with grapefruit sized breasts and only the faintest curve of an ass. Maybe 50 kilos and 150cm. Her thin purple sundress left little to the imagination and stopped less than halfway down her slender thighs. Jet black hair fell in wavy curls down to prominent collarbones. Her face would have been doll-like if she hadn't been so angry. Big round brown eyes, high cheekbones and a thin line of stark white teeth between her lips. They were bared. *Mmmm.*
*"*What the FUCK is going on here? Where are the others? Where is my phone?"
He stopped in the foyer and shrugged off his suit jacket, leisurely hanging on a hook. No doubt she'd notice the way his shirt clung to his arms and chest- and sure enough, she slowed her pace a bit without even realizing it. Some deeper part of her realized the physical threat he represented, even if she was to livid for it to come to the fore.
"Hello, Shivya." The face that he knew her name was enough to stop you in her tracks.
"Who the FUCK are you? Give me my phone."
"I'm your tamer, Shivya."
She moved to run around him to the door and he slapped her open handed across the face. It wasn't a particularly hard blow, but the shock of it took her to her knees. Her anger broke; fear flooded and she turned around and started to move back into the hall in a half crawl.
He was on her in a flash, pinning her on her back to the soft white carpeting. Tears ran down her face and she experienced a powerful dose of the powerlessness from being weak and alone. He held her there, arms pinned with a knee on her chess, and looked at her as she sobbed, any pretense of indignation dissolved into terror.
"What's happening" she choked out, "please don't hurt me."
It was always tempting, as a breaker, to shift between being a good cop and a bad cop too quickly. So easy to offer words of comfort at this point, to put her to ease. Sinn knew better. He spat in her face.
The shock of that hit her harder than the slap. He took advantage of it to pull one arm back, and in a smooth, almost practiced motion he clipped a thin black collar around her neck. At the very back was a small module that could deliver powerful electric shocks to the base of her spinal column, at the press of a button in his palm. It was a blunt force instrument; but a handy thing to have in the early days.
With that, he stepped back off of her and stood up straight. She stayed curled up briefly then slowly stood up, her eyes looking large on her face.
"Shiv, I'm going to say this one time, and one time only. Undress. All the way." Gradual requests were better, but he wanted her to fight this one.
She didn't disappoint.
