Chapter 14 – The Panopticon IV

0416 stood outside Cell 0777, watching as Officer A cautiously handcuffed the person inside. He flexed his limbs and muscles, uneasily instructing, “Be quick to react. If the situation gets out of control—”

“Relax,” A glanced at him and opened the airlock. “I won’t leave.”

0416 stepped inside.

B had mentioned someone had played as The Elder. At the time, 0416 feigned surprise: “Wasn’t that an NPC?”

B shook his head: “It was The Convert.” He crushed his cigarette on the crystal ashtray, and the ash immediately disintegrated, leaving only the unburned tobacco and paper behind. “Your Convert.”

0416 seized the opportunity: “What did 0777… do to you?”

B refused to answer. After a while, he spoke in a tone so grave it sent chills down the spine: “Cell 0777 is The Convert—or he isn’t. I need a definitive answer.”

He wanted certainty. 0416 was almost sure that B was about to take action—action targeting The Convert. “They’re all smart. It might take a while—”

B suddenly grabbed his chin, suppressing a surge of fury: “Last time, you were too soft on them. This time, I want you to be ruthless.”

The door closed behind him. 0416 extended the handcuffs toward 0777, 0933, and the fake Thief. In B’s field of vision, only these three remained. Rather than identifying The Convert, it was safer to eliminate 0933 first.

0777 saw it was him again, and the muscles on his back instinctively tensed, adopting a provocative stance as he extended his wrists. Then, with a snap, the partition panel dropped from the outside.

“Hey!” He banged the handcuffs against the door, triggering the electronic sensor alarm. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

A responded through the intercom: “Given your aggression last time, the management system recommends implementing Level 2 restrictions.”

“Fuck you!” 0777 kicked the door hard, his sharp eyes sweeping toward 0416. 0416 immediately avoided his glare, raising his hands in a placating gesture: “Hey, don’t get worked up. I’m on your side,” he said with a gentle smile. “They don’t know you’re The Archer, right? Because I didn’t tell them!”

“Tch,” 0777 scoffed arrogantly. “So what if they knew? Just a bunch of laborers. I’m not scared.”

“Then why lie?” 0416 lowered his hands, seemingly relaxing his guard, though his feet kept shifting subtly, maintaining movement. “Did you break the rules in the game?”

0777 had the air of a spoiled rich kid, sneering back: “Why should I tell the truth?” He tapped his temple. “What’s in here is mine. Why should I share it with them?”

He wasn’t wrong. 0416 was glad he thought that way—this rebellious, childish mindset would be his downfall sooner or later. “Then why The Convert?”

“I like The Convert. Didn’t you know?” 0777 looked at him like he was an idiot. “Especially yours. If I had him, I wouldn’t even care about leaving this place.”

Right, he’d said that before—”No money, just find some place to grow old together.” 0416 turned his head away. In that moment of distraction, 0777 lunged forward, pressing the handcuffs against his throat and slamming him against the wall: “Hey, didn’t you say you’d help me find him last time? So, which one here is he?”

0416 clawed at his wrist, coughing: “My Convert… why should I tell you?!”

He was provoking him. At the very least, he needed the Central Tower to think there was some complicated relationship between them. Unexpectedly, 0777 suddenly said: “These guys are all disgusting, except for that 0933.”

0416’s expression shifted, and 0777 caught it instantly: “No way… our tastes always align like this…”

0416 got serious. A downward elbow strike sent 0777 stumbling back in pain, clutching his stomach—but then he laughed. Clearly, he enjoyed this kind of challenge: “I’ve never played with someone smart before,” he made an obscene gesture, “He was seventeen when he came in, didn’t even know how to kiss, right? I’ll teach him.”

0416’s fist shot straight for his nose. 0777 saw it coming, but whether it was the speed or his own misjudgment, he failed to dodge. The punch landed squarely, dazing him.

Stunned, he lost his chance to fight back. After that, it was mostly 0416 beating him down—split brow, bleeding gums, stomach blows that made him retch. The intercom remained silent. The Central Tower seemed blind, waiting until 0416 finally let go, pressing the red switch on the door. By then, 0777 was half-conscious.

The cuffs were reapplied. The airlock opened, and A waited outside. As 0416 stepped out and the door sealed behind him, he dropped one last line: “Cell 0777—confirmed as The Convert.”

After that, A took him to The Thief. Same procedure, same methods. The difference was that 0416 started beating him the moment he entered. The tattooed guy tried to fight back, but he was no match. Soon, he was pinned to the ground, taking brutal punches to the gut.

0416 was seething—0777 had lit the fuse. Since his first outing, he’d been carefully maintaining a delicate balance. He’d considered every possibility except one: 0777 posing a threat to 0933. Given the kid’s background, he had the means to do it.

“Stop! Stop hitting—” The Thief begged beneath his feet, tossed around like a sandbag. 0416 didn’t make any demands—he just kept hitting. When the man was nearly senseless, he kicked his head and asked: “On the Island of Saints, were you really playing as The Thief?”

“I—” The guy stared at him in terror, blood from a gash on his forehead trickling down his nasolabial folds to his chin. “I really—”

0416 raised his fist again, and The Thief immediately surrendered: “The Convert! The Convert!” He curled into a ball, babbling in panic. “I’m The Convert!”

As expected, two of the remaining four were “Converts.” 0416 wiped the blood from his hands onto the man’s clothes: “Why lie?”

“Because—” The Thief hesitated, but two slaps later, he confessed: “I didn’t want anyone to know… I got fucked in the ass!”

The words struck a nerve. 0416 stood up and delivered two more kicks to his ribs. The Thief, confused by the continued assault, thought he hadn’t confessed fast enough and blurted out: “I—I was locked up for raping women! If they found out… that I was treated like a woman inside, they’d laugh me to death!”

“Then why the fuck did you play as The Convert?!”

“Got addicted…” The Thief looked up at him pitifully, hunching his shoulders in fear of another beating. “Couldn’t quit.”

0416 kicked him aside and turned to stomp on the door. Two loud bangs later, the partition dropped. A’s dark wool uniform appeared outside as he handcuffed 0416 and lowered the airlock. He looked up at him, waiting for his answer.

“This one,” 0416 twisted his wrists, “is also The Convert.”

“Also The Convert,” A repeated into his chest-mounted micro-intercom. 0416 knew who was on the other end—B.

They took the elevator to the top floor, entering Section 09. 01, 02… 14, 15… 27, 28… Each number represented a unique mind. A strange fear gripped 0416—fear of his own insignificance, of the Party’s overwhelming power. Then A stopped. The cell number was 0933. He opened the door.

Inside was a small figure, sitting obediently on the bed. 0416 didn’t enter immediately. Instead, he held out his hand to A. Reluctantly, A pulled something from his pocket and handed it over.

The door closed. Only the two of them remained in the prison pod. 0416 sat beside 0933, his restless heart inexplicably calming. He took his hand, holding it like a child’s: “They told me to beat you up.”

After a pause, 0933 mumbled: “Then why aren’t you?”

0416 grinned: “Can’t bear to.”

0933 laughed too. Then, before they knew it, they were kissing—wet, messy, with the sound of saliva and ragged breaths. 0933 squeezed his eyes shut, trying to lie back on the bed, but 0416 pulled him up by the waist, swaying with him as if dancing.

0933 was shorter, straining on tiptoe to reach him. When he couldn’t, he let out soft whimpers, urging 0416 to bend down. The adorable sight instantly set 0416 on fire.

He yanked off 0933’s shirt, pulled his pants down to his ankles. Blushing, 0933 let him, watching as 0416 impatiently stripped off his own clothes, standing bare before him.

“What are you staring at…” 0933 muttered, too shy to notice his left hand was clenched.

0416 pulled him back into his arms, skin against skin, bone against bone, touching him—narrow shoulders, shoulder blades, delicate ribs, waist, thighs, small but perky ass. His hand lingered there, squeezing.

0933 knew what he was thinking but couldn’t be bothered to stop him. Last time, he’d tried for so long and failed to get inside. He figured it just wasn’t happening, so he boldly reached for 0416’s cock, clumsily stroking it.

0416 was frantic, kissing his cheeks roughly, fingers teasing the cleft of his ass. After playing enough, he probed the dry, tight entrance. Still too tight. He pressed and rubbed until it loosened slightly, then pushed a finger in. The moment he did, 0933 yelped, squirming away.

“What’s the big deal?” 0416 complained. “You’ve fingered me so many times. Don’t be selfish.”

0933 was unhappy but even more unhappy about being called “selfish,” so he obediently stayed still. 0416 kissed the crown of his head, fingers delving deeper before pulling out to rub again. 0933 grew embarrassed: “Stop rubbing, you pervert…”

0416 complied, but just as 0933 relaxed, something long and hard slipped into the slightly parted opening, plunging deep.

“Huh?” Before he could react, there was a wet squelch—something cool and slick filled his ass. “Ah!” he cried. 0416 held him tight, preventing escape or even a backward glance, his palm pressing insistently.

“What—” 0933 panicked, shoving at his hand. “What is that?!”

“Nothing,” 0416 gripped his waist. What A had given him was a small latex bottle—supposedly lube, but more like something from the infirmary for enemas. He patted his ass. “Clench. Don’t let it leak.”

Terrified, 0933 had no idea what lube was or its purpose. Fear born of ignorance made him slap wildly at 0416’s face. Left with no choice, 0416 released the bottle to grab his hands, leaving the little tube wedged in 0933’s ass, swaying with his movements.

0933 could feel something sticking out of him. Flushing crimson, he jerked his hips, trying to shake it loose. But instead of falling, the lube trickled out, dripping down his thighs. Humiliated and furious, he punched 0416 twice.

The sight of him scared and aggrieved made 0416 adore him even more. With brute strength, he pinned 0933 against the wall, hoisting one leg over his shoulder. He yanked out the lube and tossed it aside, pressing forward with a rough gasp.

0933 was in complete disarray. Something much thicker than before pushed between his legs, sliding in with surprising ease. Dazed, he looked down to see 0416’s cock—the head already buried inside, leaving only a red shaft poised to thrust.

“No…” He stared at the ugly thing, then at his own small, half-hard length. “Get out…” He pushed weakly. “Get out!”

No way. 0416, sweating profusely, coaxed him, “Bear with it, it’ll be over soon.” Thinking he was in pain, he pecked at his lips soothingly and stroked his lower body. “I promise, you’ll feel good soon!”

0933 refused. To keep him from entering, he desperately twisted his waist and hips, the sudden looseness and slickness leaving him flustered: “What was… that just now?!”

Afraid he might hurt himself with such reckless movements, 0416 pinned him down with one hand while carefully supporting himself with the other, his voice rising unintentionally: “Just… just lube!” He had never had sex in such a chaotic, almost humiliating manner. “If you keep squirming, I’ll have to force it!”

The threat had no effect on 0933. He writhed and twisted, clenching to push him out. The more he resisted, the more excited 0416 became, the pressure of nearing climax making his scalp tingle: “Oh my god…” he growled. Unable to enter and unwilling to force it, he reluctantly withdrew and dragged him onto the bed.

0933 lay beneath him as he straddled him, not rushing to proceed but staring at him with a sticky gaze. 0933 nervously looked back, taking in his muscular frame and thick cock—then squirmed unwillingly.

0416 easily pinned him: “Stop fussing, what’s the point?” He leaned down, capturing his lips while spreading his slender legs over his arms, parting them wide.

“This is the most basic position,” he said. “If you hadn’t ended up in the Panopticon and had a girlfriend, this is probably how your first time would’ve gone.” He licked his ear. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Don’t be scared.”

0933 retorted, “We’re gay. The place we’re using…” he muttered, “is different.”

0416 froze. Were they gay? Well… yeah, they were. Uncharacteristically, his face reddened, and he grew bashful, rubbing his cock against 0933’s cleft. “If I stay this hard, it’ll ruin me,” he said, gently pushing in. “I’ll try just a little bit, okay?”

0933 seemed reluctant. 0416 watched his expression as he slowly pushed deeper. The tight, scorching heat made him grit his teeth to control his strength, one hand gripping a buttock while the other stroked 0933’s small cock.

“H-how much is in?” 0933 asked with each thrust. Patiently, 0416 showed him—quite a bit had slid in thanks to the lube—but he lied, “Still early.”

0933 seemed to relax, curling his toes as he enjoyed the fondling below: “It hurts a little.”

The moment he said it hurt, 0416 stopped: “Does it?” He pressed a fingertip against the taut ring of muscle, feeling some give. “Try squeezing me.”

Instantly, 0933’s expression changed—flushed, trembling, his eyes darting away. “I don’t know how…” he mumbled, but his body betrayed him, clamping down hard in a reflexive spasm. He froze, staring blankly at the white wall in disbelief.

That was it. 0416 couldn’t hold back any longer. He grabbed his hips and began thrusting shallowly—just grinding, really—but 0933 reacted as if he’d been impaled, clutching his shoulders and whimpering.

Soon, he went limp—his ass, his whole body. 0416 leveraged his size to bounce him on his lap, the lube inside now warmed and dripping, making wet squelches with each thrust.

“M-my… ass,” 0933 gasped, eyes squeezed shut, face flushed as if delirious, “it’s numb…”

0416 was beyond caring. He fucked him with a primal intensity, turning a basic position into something obscenely pleasurable, alternating between fast and slow, deep and shallow, relentless in every angle.

“J-just… put it all in,” 0933 panted, sweat-drenched hair sticking to his forehead. “I think… I can take it now…”

0416 glanced down—his entire length was already buried to the hilt. “N-not yet,” he lied, not daring to admit the truth. “You… need more time to adjust.”

0933 frowned, his chest arching unconsciously as he stroked his own cock, the area between his thighs flushed with arousal. 0416 began pulling out, planning to thrust back in partway to pretend he hadn’t gone all the way—but there was no fooling 0933 about the length.

“Huh?” He craned to look down, spotting the slick length in 0416’s grip, even his pubic hair matted wet. “You… lied—”

0416 didn’t let him finish. With that terrifying length, he slammed back in—hard, deep. Before 0933 could process it, his mind went blank, and he came messily.

Only after finishing did he realize what had happened. Blushing, he couldn’t believe he’d come just from being fucked. His chest was streaked with white, his legs held up toward the ceiling, trembling lewdly with each of 0416’s thrusts.

“That fast?” 0416 teased in his ear, clearly gloating. “I’ve barely started.” His tone was smug—bragging about his stamina, about how easily he’d made 0933 submit. “So much,” he mused, smearing the sticky fluid over pink nipples. “Been pent up?”

0933 stared, dumbfounded, as his nipples were slicked and toyed with like a woman’s, while the thrusts behind him grew rhythmic.

Soon, his throat burned with the urge to moan, the need overwhelming. He held back, his entire body flushing red, his cock twitching back to life.

“Mmm… ah!” Finally, he couldn’t take it. He clung to 0416’s neck, grinding against him wantonly, his hips rocking, muscles clenching as he cried out—lewd, desperate sounds that made 0416’s limbs go weak.

“Don’t moan,” he panted, licking his lips like an eager dog. “If you keep moaning… I’ll… I’ll—”

With a sudden jerk, he came, filling 0933 completely. Mixed with the diluted lube, it sloshed audibly with each lingering thrust. 0933 was still hard. Satisfied, 0416 pulled out, and thick fluid spilled from the loosened hole, soaking the sheets.

He caressed 0933, goosebumps rising wherever he touched, his large hand sliding into the crease of his thigh. “Why don’t you ride me?” He gauged his own girth. “do you think you’ll be able to handle it?”

0933 swatted his hand away, annoyed by his untimely orgasm and the implied jab at his size. He rolled over, hugging the blanket, grinding against it obscenely.

“Hey…” 0416 pinched his thigh. “I’m right here. Isn’t this a bit much?” He tried pulling him up, but 0933 clung tightly, moaning lewdly as he humped.

Clearly, he’d done this before. The sight of his debauchery reignited 0416’s heat. “If you keep this up… I’m going again!” he warned, hastily stroking his half-hard cock before pressing close and thrusting in from behind.

──────

B sat on the couch, taking a call—or rather, receiving a transmission through a comms chip embedded in his temple. He crossed his legs, his posture languid. “…Yes, yes, I know… Chief, next month’s…”

A slipped a metal knuckle over his right hand, activating it with a press of his palm. The metal expanded to cover his entire hand—0416 had seen these before, often used by enforcers to discipline subordinates. Before he could react, a heavy fist struck his nose, sending pain shooting through his face and blurring his vision.

“Chief, this matter isn’t easy to resolve…” B’s voice was light as he watched, his tone uncharacteristically oily and ingratiating. “…Yes, yes, understood, Chief.”

A punched 0416 in the gut. “You were sent in to beat people up. You got off, but you didn’t lay a hand on 0933.” He flexed his enhanced fist smugly. “If you don’t beat him, you’re the one who gets beaten!”

“Don’t worry, Chief,” B stood, walking to the window. “Just disciplining a prisoner… Of course, Chief.” He smiled obsequiously. “I won’t cause you any trouble.”

The call ended. B’s icy demeanor returned. Frowning, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and perched on the coffee table. “Next year’s budget got cut again. Any connections?”

He directed the question at A but eyed 0416, enjoying his disheveled state. A shook out his hand and deactivated the knuckle. “Those old bastards. Maybe… send more gifts upstairs?”

B shook his head, gesturing for him to leave. A removed the knuckle, buttoned his wool uniform, shot 0416 a glare, and shut the door behind him.

B slid off the table, his waistline elegant. 0416, eyes swelling, coldly turned away and spat blood.

“What, angry?” B pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket—pristine, dazzling white, made of an old-fashioned fabric like silk or linen, rare in an era of synthetic materials.

He dabbed at 0416’s nose. 0416 flinched back, knowing natural fabrics were hard to clean. Such a minor wound wasn’t worth ruining a valuable antique.

“Come to my place.” Tucking the bloodied handkerchief into his pocket, B pressed the wall control, leading him out. All power would shut off in thirty seconds, the doors locking automatically.

They walked the long, curved corridor—a lonely, dreary path. 0416 imagined B making this walk daily, head bowed, his armband wrinkled from work, no one behind him. Maybe A or C were there, but like him, they were lifeless.

“What are you thinking about?” B suddenly asked, his voice weary.

“You,” 0416 answered truthfully. B stopped, turning to look at him with an expression caught between belief and suspicion—or perhaps the futile hope all men harbor for the unattainable.

“I won’t give you any more special treatment,” B said, his voice trembling slightly.

“I know.” 0416 showed him the bruise on his chin. “Your ‘special treatment’ isn’t something I’d dare accept.”

B said nothing, though he seemed to want to. Turning away, he continued down the hall to the elevator. They ascended from the fifth to the twentieth floor in fifteen seconds. The doors opened to the administrators’ living quarters.

B’s room was in a prime location—evident from the spacing of the doors. A chime greeted them: Welcome back, sir. Today’s scent is lily of the valley.

Lights flickered on. A record player in the inner room clicked, playing music—the same song: Non, rien de rien, Non, je ne regrette rien…

The scent of rain-soaked lilies filled the air—artificial, 0416 knew, but the sweetness still moved him.

Behind him, B undressed: armband, ring, wool uniform, shoes, white shirt, semi-transparent underwear. Naked, he moved about the room, tidying up before calling to 0416: “Scissors are by the vase. Strip and come here.”

0416 turned. The vase held roses—large, crimson-black blooms. Beside it was a massive simulated fish tank. He’d owned one once—the shimmering arowana wasn’t real, just a 32-bit hologram. He grabbed the scissors, clumsily cutting off his shirt and stepping out of his pants before approaching B.

The inner room’s bathroom was dimly lit. B’s figure blurred in the steam—a real water shower, not the standard laser sanitization. 0416 stepped in, and B met him with a drenched face—beautiful brows, lashes trembling with droplets, lips overly red. He pulled him under the spray, watching water cascade over his nose. “How’s this for special treatment?”

0416 wiped his face and grinned: “Way better than daily laser disinfection!”

B’s lips pressed close—hesitant, teasing, waiting for him to take the lead. 0416 understood: his superior wanted to be ‘serviced.’ So he caressed him as desired, head to toe, front to back. B reveled in it, resting his head on 0416’s shoulder, idly tracing his lips.

“Hard,” 0416 remarked—about B, who glanced down. Indeed, he’d gotten excited too quickly.

“Don’t mind it,” B said, blushing as he pushed 0416’s hair back. “It does this often.”

Does it often? 0416 frowned, uncharacteristically compassionate: “Want me to help you with my hands?”

B dodged, pouring shampoo—a luxury item—from an alloy bottle on the wall, lathering it between his hands before massaging it into 0416’s hair. Of course, not just his hair—this lonely officer was equally gentle with his “lower half.”

“Hey, I’m not made of iron,” 0416 laughed, his refusal sounding more like sweet talk.

“Someone like 0933 already wore you out?”

“Went at it several times, Officer,” 0416 teased, pressing close to his ear with a hint of coquetry. “Besides… didn’t you say not to touch?”

These shameless words excited B even more, evident from his dazed expression. He was clearly eager to do something. 0416 pinched the soft flesh near his navel: “Relax, I know how to make you happy…”

They moved from the shower to the bed—a sea of softness like clouds. B lay on one side, watching as 0416 swung his length and climbed onto the other.

“Ah…” The moment he lay down, 0416 sighed in comfort. It had been so long since he’d slept on such a bed—the sheets like silk, or at least a convincing imitation. The pattern was unclear, but the decadent texture was intoxicating.

B said nothing, lighting a cigar at the bedside. He took a drag, propped himself up on an elbow, and offered it to 0416: “Special supply,” he murmured, like an attentive lover, gently brushing back his damp hair. “No amount of money outside can buy this.”

“Outside” referred to beyond the Party. 0416 studied him from up close, watching as he shamelessly, yet obliviously, tried to please him. Unintentionally, he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” B was proud yet flustered, so curious he couldn’t let even a laugh go unremarked.

“You’re so young to be in this position,” 0416 took a deep drag from the cigar between B’s fingers, blowing the smoke into his face. “Did you have to service a lot of those old men to get here?”

B’s mood soured. He took the cigar back and lay down, manipulating something unseen. A beam of light projected from the ceiling, casting a large, clear image of two naked figures.

0416 recognized them instantly—himself and 0933. A recording from earlier that day. “What’s this,” he feigned nonchalance, shrugging his shoulders for B to rest on, “a highlight reel?”

“Pornography is prohibited within the Party,” B didn’t even glance at him, mesmerized by the scene. “I’ve never seen… something so obscene.”

It was obscene—especially the part where 0416 lubed up 0933, the boy writhing to escape. At the time, 0416 thought it was mutual, that the pleas and resistance were just playful. But now, muted and viewed from the outside, the pushing, the pinning—it was undeniably a case of the strong preying on the weak.

“He kept begging you, didn’t he?” B zoomed in on 0933’s face—fear, shame, humiliation, all vividly displayed. “To be sodomized like that… how pitiful.”

His tone was gloating, grating on 0416. “He wanted it,” 0416 said with a natural rogue’s air. “That kind of virgin—play with him a little, and he’ll cling to you on his own.”

B neither agreed nor disagreed, zooming out to continue watching. Two naked bodies entwined, rocking on the bed. 0933’s legs—slender and pale like a girl’s—were pried apart and dragged around, repeatedly penetrated.

Anyone watching would be consumed by desire. 0416 was hard. No doubt B was even more worked up. His hand slid downward—hot skin, trembling muscles, all the way to where B was secretly grinding against the sheets. One squeeze, and his palm was wet.

“Getting this excited just from a replay?” 0416 mocked B’s desperate loneliness. “You’ve already jerked off in the office, haven’t you? Such an addict…”

B silenced him with a kiss, sucking on his tongue. Between gasps, he writhed uncontrollably, finally commanding: “G-get on top!”

0416 obliged, flipping onto him. B spread his legs, aligning their cocks. The moment they touched, no further instruction was needed—they began thrusting against each other, shamelessly.

B loved to moan, a habit that made him seem wanton. Even as 0416 cursed his lewdness internally, he rubbed vigorously. Within moments, B was shuddering, coming undone—his orgasm on the bed starkly different from the one at his desk, as if he’d been struck dead, tempting 0416 to be rougher.

0416 kept grinding for a while before kneeling to stroke himself. Just as he was about to finish, B frantically pulled him back, flipping over to present his ass, shoving 0416’s cock between his thighs: “J-just a little longer…”

He clamped his legs tight, forcing 0416 to press against his back, simulating sex through fabric. The bed was so soft it allowed for wild movements. Bracing his cuffed hands on the pillow above B’s head, 0416 pistoned downward like a madman.

As expected, B started moaning again, panting: “D-did 0933… bleed?”

He meant during penetration. “Of course not,” 0416 frowned. “Why ask?”

“Then…” B was unbearably excited, teeth chattering. “Did you make him feel good?”

Of course he had. 0416 leaned in: “He went soft—does that count?” He licked B’s ear. “He came first, and I didn’t even touch his front.”

B grabbed his shoulder, clearly aroused by the words: “M-more…” Trembling, he arched his hips faster. “What does… being penetrated feel like?”

“I’ve never been fucked,” 0416 yanked his hair, still wet and slippery. “Judging by 0933’s reaction, it must’ve felt amazing.”

“Ah…” B bit his lip restlessly, thighs sticky from friction—but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to try it, to experience that “amazing” feeling. “Was he… shameless?”

“Next time, invite us both up here,” 0416 slammed against his ass. “I’ll give you a live show.”

B was on the verge of collapse. Just thigh-fucking and dirty talk had him nearly blacking out. 0416 seized the chance to probe: “If you want to try, you could ask the other officers,” he provoked, scrambling his focus. “With how slutty you are, A would drop his pants in a heartbeat.”

B was close, his Adam’s apple bobbing, limbs tensing: “T-they’re just machines!” In the throes of near-climax, he let slip something dangerous. “If you tell them to stop, they freeze like statues!”

0416 was stunned. Machines? A and C—they were… AIs? He gripped B’s neck, grinding him into the bed: “Who cares what they are? As long as they’ve got a cock!”

“A cock…” B repeated deliriously, clenching as he shuddered through his orgasm.

0416 wasn’t done yet. Ruthlessly, he kept thrusting. The bed, too soft, couldn’t withstand their frenzy. Gradually, they slid off, collapsing onto the carpet in a tangled heap.

0416 got up first, wiping himself with the sheets. B curled at his feet, blinking dazedly, slow to recover. Then the holographic screen flickered—an electronic voice announced: “Cell 0933, live feed.”

B finally reacted, muttering: “Midnight already? So fast…” Clearly, he’d arranged this. 0416 turned to the screen—a cramped cell. 0933 rubbed his eyes as he got out of bed just as the door opened. A handcuffed man entered—tall, with short, bluish hair.

Cell 0777!

0416 shot to his feet, staring at the projection. 0777 was removing his cuffs. 0933 seemed confused, frozen in place, visibly afraid.

“Did you do this?!” 0416 demanded, too tense to mind his tone.

0777 advanced. 0933 wisely retreated, pressing against the wall to keep distance. 0777 smirked, saying something, then suddenly grabbed him, dragging him toward the bed.

“Can’t be helped. His father’s untouchable,” B rose from the carpet, legs spread, wiping himself. “He demanded to enter 0933’s cell. I had to comply.”

“Can’t you see what he’s going to do?!” 0416 nearly roared. “Get him out. Now!”

0777 already had 0933 pinned. They struggled—pale limbs, stomachs, chests exposed. 0933 was screaming, likely at the top of his lungs, but here, there was no sound.

B lit a cigarette, studying 0416 with amusement: “What, only you get to do such things?”

0416 held back. He didn’t want to show too much concern for 0933. But then B added: “You’ve had your fun. Someone like him,” he pointed at 0933, “the more he’s played with, the better.”

0416 lunged at him, gripping his throat with precision. The electronic cuffs blared an alarm, glowing red-hot: “Get 0777 out. Now!”

“It’ll detonate,” B said coldly. “Both of us—blown to bits.”

“I don’t care!” 0416 squeezed harder, forcing B’s tongue out. After a minute-long standoff, B finally relented, weakly clapping his hands: “T-terminate!”