For the being standing in the locker room of the Saxum Gym, time did not exist. He was just there to be. People touched him, hung things on him, anything, and he just stood, a frozen statue, as was his purpose. No thoughts existed. How long this had lasted he could not know, nor could he want to, as neither was his purpose.
But, as he stood frozen there, a single thought finally fought it’s way into his head. “Barren.” The word echoed in the empty mind, seeming to rattle around, trying to connect with anything. Until finally it connected with what he was seeing. The room he stood in was barren, empty. The mind, having been blank for so long, finally began to rouse, though it was slow and lethargic.
Other words started to bounce around as well. “White”, “Cold”, “Bright”, all bounced around, and more quickly connected with things the being could start to experience. Building on themselves, all of these sensory inputs eventually coalesced into a consciousness, and suddenly the being began to experience time again. It felt to him like it had been a terrible struggle. Something still tried to smother him, tried to keep him for being or thinking, but he could fight it off, as long as he kept it at arms length. Not focus on that, but instead on himself.
He knew he still wasn’t strong enough to move. His exertion had deepened his breathing, but he still smiled and flexed, only the autonomic actions happening in his body. He had to strengthen himself. Experience more, remember more. Whatever was holding him here was related to that smothering force, so he had to push away from how he had gotten here, and instead focus on his identity. What was his name? It was important for his identity. What was his name? E….Ev…Evan. Yes. Evan. That was who he was.
Evan, thinking to build his consciousness with more experiences, searched what he could see, trying to identify them. Water bottles. Sinks. Faucets. All these definitions started to flood in, building himself more and more. Until, that is, that he identified the jars and their contents. A collection of grooming supplies. While one part of his mind became stronger with the memory of grooming, the word collection moved that smothering force closer again.
Why was that word, “Collection”, doing that? Even tried to stop himself from thinking it, recognizing the danger, but already the definition was sliding through his head, and he remembered. He was part of a collection. He was part of the Master’s collection of men. He had been at this gym, and been collected by the Master for service.
The Master’s will, that suffocating force, fell over what Evan had pulled together and dissipated it like kicking a sandcastle over. Evan could see the spiral in his mind, the one that the Master had showed him. The one that was too beautiful to look away from. The one that ate his memory and identity. What was his name? He no longer could remember. Nor did he care to remember. The beautiful spiral and his Master’s commands told him they were unimportant. What he had to do was follow his instructions. They were the only important thing. What had those been? “Inanimatus” His master had said that. It meant that he must… be… nothing…
The consciousness ended, returning to the purpose filled, timeless presence that had no thoughts or movement or existence. But a small light on Evan’s cap began to flash. The sensors in it had detected the rise of chemicals in the slave’s brain, and had altered the Owner. The Owner had watched, getting ready to intercept Evan if he had broken completely free. But the programming had held for now. When Evan’s shift was over, the Owner would just give him extra time on his nightly brainwashing session. But, for now, he cleared the alert and let Evan return to his duty as a sexy towel rack for his premium clientele.
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