Thinking abt an ultramarine who is just an utter Freak abt hypnoindoctrination. He doesn't even technically need to go though it anymore, his record has been clean for almost a century, so he could just read about what changed tactically and carry out the new methods. But no, when a new patch comes out he is first in line to be downloading more fascism directly into his brain, recreationally if nothing else. He's also one of those weirdos that does it sober. Which would seem more dignified than needing to be on enough ketamine to kill an ox for it to stick. However, he's hard as a rock before he's even plugged in, and as soon as the data link starts rewriting parts of his psyche, he's panting and starting to leak.
No one's sure whose idea it was at first to take advantage of him, but he never seems to mind. Its unusual to see his eyes, normally deadly-sharp and constantly demanding a merciless degree of perfection from his men, instead glassy and half-lidded. It's easy to open his mouth, give him something to suck on, just fingers at first, then the cock of whoever feels like taking to the grave the secret that they got a half-consious blowjob from their own captain. Not to mention the way he'll shamelessly hump against just about anything while doing it. Try explaining that stain to an artificer.
Just once, he mentions a strange dreamlike sensation he'd remembered afterward. As if someone had been near him, perhaps even touched him. Everyone freezes. One of his men quickly suggests that a sensor had probably fallen off, and had had to be stuck back on him. He verbally accepts that as the most likely scenario, knowing his omophagea had tasted the memories of that very man that day.