Xingxi Pavilion 2042 · P3

The afternoon sun slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the president's office, casting long shadows across the polished concrete floor. Zou Luyao stood with her back to the others, one hand pressed against the cool glass as she stared down at the sprawling city below. Behind her, the hum of the air recycler was the only sound breaking the silence.

She heard the soft click of heels on the floor as Mary entered first, followed by the lighter footsteps of Sen Xiaomeng and Tao Xiaonai. None of them spoke as they took their seats around the circular conference table. Zou Luyao waited a moment longer, letting the weight of what she was about to say settle in her chest like a stone.

She turned slowly, her long hair swaying with the movement. Her face was composed but her eyes betrayed a deep weariness. She walked to the table, pulled out her chair, and sat down. Across from her, Tao Xiaonai was already studying her with that sharp clinical gaze, while Sen Xiaomeng toyed with a small 3D-printed keychain, turning it over and over in her fingers. Mary sat with her hands folded on the table, her posture stiff.

"The morale reports from all divisions came in this morning," Zou Luyao began, her voice flat but carrying an undercurrent of tension. "They're worse than last month. Much worse."

Sen Xiaomeng set down the keychain. "The combat division is on the edge of burnout. Maintenance crews are running three shifts with no breaks. Even the research teams are showing signs of severe stress." She paused, glancing at Tao Xiaonai. "You've seen the counseling intake numbers."

Tao Xiaonai nodded, her short hair falling forward as she looked down at her tablet. "Voluntary sessions are down forty percent. But the anonymous reports of violent ideation, self-harm urges, and sexual aggression toward upper management have tripled." She looked up, her expression unreadable. "The employees are holding it together by a thread. And that thread is fraying."

Mary exhaled slowly. "We can't keep sending them to the VR decompression chambers. The system is overloading, and the psychological backlash is getting worse. They need real release. Human connection."

The words hung in the air. Zou Luyao stared at the surface of the table, tracing an invisible line with her finger. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Lin Ruoning sent me a private transmission last night. She and Su Yucang have been handling the combat division's worst cases alone for six months now. They're exhausted. But she said something that stayed with me." She paused, lifting her eyes to meet each woman's gaze in turn. "She said, 'The only way to keep the fortress from collapsing is to let them take what they need. And we have to be willing to give it.'"

Sen Xiaomeng's fingers stilled on the keychain. A flicker of something—excitement? dread?—passed through her eyes. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Zou Luyao clasped her hands together, knuckles white. "I'm proposing that the four of us follow their example. That we offer ourselves as a resource for the employees to release their negative emotions. Physically. Completely." She forced herself to continue. "Like they do. Voluntary sex slaves for the organization."

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. Mary's face drained of color, then flushed red. Tao Xiaonai's lips parted slightly, a faint tremor running through her shoulders. Sen Xiaomeng leaned back in her chair, a calculating look settling over her features.

No one objected.

Tao Xiaonai was the first to speak. Her voice was steady, almost clinical, but there was a heat beneath it that betrayed her true feelings. "This isn't a sudden development. I've been tracking the employees' subconscious desires for months. The fetishization of female authority figures in positions of submission is a recurring theme in their anonymous logs. They've been fantasizing about binding us, overpowering us, using us as outlets for their aggression." She paused, letting the words sink in. "They already have the impulse. We just need to wait for it to reach a boiling point, then position ourselves so they can act on it. And we have to appear completely passive. Victims of circumstance, not willing participants."

Mary swallowed hard, her fingers interlacing and unlacing on the table. "If they know we're doing this by choice, they'll feel guilty. They'll hold back. And that defeats the purpose." Her voice dropped. "They need to believe they're taking something from us. That we're being forced."

"Exactly." Zou Luyao straightened in her chair, the resignation in her voice hardening into resolve. "We stage the scenario so that every encounter feels like coercion. A security override that leaves us trapped. A fabricated threat that gives them justification. They'll tell themselves it's necessary for the mission, that we're just bodies they're using to relieve pressure. And we let them believe it."

Sen Xiaomeng picked up her keychain again, turning it over with renewed interest. "I can design restraints that look intimidating but can be released with a hidden trigger. Sensory-deprivation hoods, spreader bars, gag systems—all with emergency release mechanisms that appear to break only under extreme force." A thin smile touched her lips. "I'll make sure they're convinced they've overpowered us, while we're actually in control of the safety limits."

Tao Xiaonai nodded curtly. "I'll hold debriefing sessions after each incident, but I'll filter the reports to make it clear that the employees' actions were 'unavoidable' and 'regrettably necessary.' That will reinforce the illusion of victimhood and prevent any investigations that might expose the truth."

Mary took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere in the middle distance. "And the emotional toll on us? We'll have to endure this repeatedly. Day after day. Some of those men, they're not gentle. They'll want to hurt us."

Zou Luyao reached across the table, placing her hand over Mary's. Her touch was firm, grounding. "That's why we have each other. And why we have Lin Ruoning and Su Yucang already on the front lines." She looked around the table, making direct eye contact with each woman. "We're not victims. We're soldiers in a different kind of war. And this is the sacrifice we choose to make."

Sen Xiaomeng let out a low, almost inaudible laugh. "Funny. I've been designing these tools for years, never thinking I'd be the one wearing them." She met Zou Luyao's gaze. "I'm in."

"I'm in," Tao Xiaonai said immediately, her voice carrying a hint of eagerness she quickly masked.

Mary hesitated, her jaw tightening. Then she nodded once. "I'm in."

Zou Luyao squeezed Mary's hand and then released it, rising from her chair. She walked back to the window, looking out at the cityscape where thousands of employees were going about their work, unaware of the decision that had just been made in this room.

"Then we begin next week," she said, her back still to the others. "Sen Xiaomeng, you have seven days to prepare the restraints. Tao Xiaonai, you'll coordinate with me to identify the most volatile individuals and target them first. Mary, you'll manage the logistics of scheduling and location isolation." She turned around, her expression unreadable. "No one outside this room can know the truth. As far as the employees are concerned, we're caught in a system failure that leaves us at their mercy. And they'll take advantage of it."

Tao Xiaonai stood, smoothing her blouse. "They will. And we'll let them. That's the only way to keep the station running."

Sen Xiaomeng pocketed her keychain and rose as well. "I'll start the designs tonight. The first batch will be ready in three days."

Mary stood last, her legs feeling unsteady beneath her. She looked at Zou Luyao, and for a moment, the bravado cracked. "Are we really doing this?"

Zou Luyao walked toward her, stopping just inches away. She reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Mary's face, a gesture surprisingly tender. "We don't have a choice. The mission comes first. And the mission needs every one of us to be functional. If this is how we keep it together, then yes. We're doing this."

Mary's eyes glistened, but she held firm. "Let's make sure we survive it."

Zou Luyao nodded once, then turned away, her decision made. The four women stood in the fading light, each lost in her own thoughts, bound together by a pact none of them had ever imagined making. But the clock was ticking, and the fortress above needed its foundations reinforced—even if those foundations were built on their own willingness to break.

The first day of the long holiday arrived with a silence that felt heavier than the usual hum of the space fortress. Tao Xiaonai sat at her desk in the psychological counseling department, the soft glow of her terminal casting pale light across her short-cropped hair. The building was nearly empty—most of the staff had already departed for the mainland, leaving her alone with her thoughts and a backlog of files that could wait until Tuesday. But she hadn't come here for the files.

The door chimed, and Ziwei walked in with the kind of hesitation that always preceded a breakdown. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her fingers twisting the hem of her uniform blouse. She stood in front of Tao Xiaonai's desk and let the tears fall freely.

"They cornered me in the break room again," Ziwei whispered, her voice cracking. "Abby said I was useless. Yi Suwan called me a waste of oxygen. Sun Yunzhu poured my coffee over my keyboard."

Tao Xiaonai observed her with practiced calm, her brow faintly creased in professional concern. Inside, she felt a familiar pull—the desire to help, yes, but also the thinner, sharper desire for something else. She pushed it down.

"I'll mediate," Tao Xiaonai said, her tone soft but firm. "I'll talk to them tonight, in the underground garage. Neutral ground. We'll sort this out."

Ziwei's shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank you, Director Tao. I don't know what I would do without you."

Tao Xiaonai stood and gathered her coat. "Don't worry. I'll handle it."

The underground garage at 2000 hours was a cavern of concrete and shadow, lit by flickering fluorescent bars that cast long, distorted shapes across the floor. Tao Xiaonai's footsteps echoed as she approached the designated meeting spot near the service elevator. Abby, Yi Suwan, and Sun Yunzhu were already there, leaning against a reinforced pillar with arms crossed and expressions that bordered on amusement.

Ziwei stood behind them, her earlier tears nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you for coming," Abby said, her voice dripping with false politeness. "We were just discussing how to make this all go away."

Tao Xiaonai opened her mouth to respond, but the world dissolved into a chemical haze before the words left her lips. Ziwei had moved with surprising speed, pressing a chloroform-soaked cloth against her face. The scent was sharp, antiseptic, and Tao Xiaonai's last conscious thought was not of betrayal, but of release.

She woke with a gasp that caught in her throat. The air was cool on her skin—every inch of her skin. Naked. She tried to move and found herself anchored, her wrists and ankles secured to metal cuffs, her body spread wide against an X-shaped cross. The frame was bolted to the floor in the center of a dimly lit room she didn't recognize. A thin, diamond-studded dog collar was locked around her neck, delicate and cold against her pulse.

The four women stood in a semicircle before her, their shadows pooling at their feet. Ziwei held the empty chloroform cloth like a trophy. Abby's smile was sharp. Yi Suwan's eyes moved across Tao Xiaonai's body with cold appraisal. Sun Yunzhu was adjusting a tablet, presumably controlling the room's systems.

"You're awake," Abby said, stepping closer. "Good. We were worried we used too much."

Tao Xiaonai's voice came out rough, trembling on cue. "What—what are you doing? Let me go."

Ziwei laughed, a sound that held no warmth. "Oh, Director Tao. You're always so good at solving other people's problems. But you couldn't see your own solution, could you?"

Tao Xiaonai struggled against the cuffs, a show of resistance. The metal bit into her wrists, sending a thrill up her arms that she worked to suppress. Her body responded to the restraint with a deep, secret longing. She kept her face twisted in fear.

"You need us," Sun Yunzhu said, not looking up from her tablet. "You've been carrying this weight for so long. We're just helping you put it down."

"We know about the scars," Yi Suwan added, her voice quieter, almost gentle. "The ones under your sleeves. The ones you think no one sees."

Tao Xiaonai's breath hitched. That was real. How did they know? She had been so careful. She stilled in her bonds, the fight draining from her limbs, replaced by something raw and exposed.

"We're not your enemies," Abby said, stepping into Tao Xiaonai's line of sight. "We're your salvation. Every member of this department serves, one way or another. It's time you learned to accept your service."

Ziwei moved to the base of the cross and pressed a button on a small console. The floor beneath Tao Xiaonai's feet began to hum, a low vibration that traveled up her spine. Above her, the ceiling retracted to reveal a one-way mirror. Beyond it, she could see figures moving silhouettes standing in the shadows, watching.

"Your first audience," Ziwei whispered, her lips close to Tao Xiaonai's ear. "They've been waiting for this."

Tao Xiaonai closed her eyes for a moment and let the terror she had to maintain wash over her. She screamed, and it was a beautiful sound. But beneath the fear, in the space between her shuddering breaths, she felt the yoke of command settle onto her shoulders. This was her path. This was her purpose.

The diamond collar caught the dim light as she lifted her chin for her captors—for her congregation. The holiday had just begun.

The cold metal of the cross pressed against Tao Xiaonai’s bare back as she hung there, wrists bound above her head, ankles secured to the lower bar. The dim light of the chamber caught the glint of the camera mounted on a tripod, its red light blinking steadily. Abby—no, it was Mary who stepped forward first, her short hair slick with sweat from the exertion of the preparations. She held a slim, remote-controlled vibrator in one hand, its silicone surface catching the sterile air.

“You know why we’re doing this, don’t you?” Mary’s voice was calm, almost clinical. She ran the vibrator along Tao Xiaonai’s inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin without making contact with her sex. “We need leverage. Something to ensure your cooperation.”

Tao Xiaonai’s breath hitched, but she forced her expression to remain neutral. Inside, a thrill coiled low in her belly—this was exactly what she wanted, what she had craved for weeks. The shame, the helplessness, the weight of their hands on her body. She tilted her head back, letting the cool metal bite into her wrists. “I’ve done everything you asked. What more do you want?”

Sen Xiaomeng stepped out from behind the camera, adjusting the lens with a practiced hand. Her short hair was tucked behind her ears, and she wore a tight black top that hugged her small frame. “We want proof. Something we can hold over you in case you ever think of betraying us.” She nodded to Mary. “Go ahead.”

Mary pressed the vibrator firmly against Tao Xiaonai’s clit, then slid it down to the entrance of her vagina. There was no resistance as she pushed it inside—Tao Xiaonai’s body was already slick with anticipation, the wetness betraying her hidden desires. She let out a small gasp, her hips jerking involuntarily as the device settled deep within her.

Zou Luyao stood apart, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, arms crossed. She watched with a mixture of detachment and arousal, her gaze lingering on Tao Xiaonai’s face. “Turn it on,” she ordered.

Mary clicked the remote. The low hum filled the silence, and Tao Xiaonai felt the vibration bloom inside her, a dull thrum that quickly intensified. She clenched her teeth, trying to keep her expression blank, but the waves of pleasure started to build, slow and insistent. Her thighs trembled as the vibrations targeted her G-spot with merciless precision.

“Look at the camera,” Sen Xiaomeng said, stepping aside so the lens had a clear view of Tao Xiaonai’s face. “Say your name.”

“Tao… Xiaonai…” The words came out strained, broken by a moan she couldn’t suppress. The vibrator pulsed in a rhythmic pattern, accelerating, then pausing, then surging again. She felt the orgasm coiling, tightening in her core, and she tried to fight it—but that only made it stronger.

Mary watched, her expression cold, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of satisfaction. “You’re going to come for us, aren’t you? On camera. And we’re going to keep this video forever.”

Tao Xiaonai’s back arched off the cross as the climax hit her, a violent shudder that tore through her body. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, her vision blurring. The vibrator continued to buzz, dragging out the orgasm until she was gasping, trembling, her muscles lax.

Sen Xiaomeng stopped the recording with a click. “Good. That’s our insurance.”

Zou Luyao uncrossed her arms and walked to the cross, unsnapping the restraints that held Tao Xiaonai’s wrists. “Off you get. We’re not done yet.”

Tao Xiaonai’s legs barely supported her as she was guided down from the cross. The vibrator was still inside her, but Mary had turned it off for now. She stood there, naked, shivering, as the four women circled her. Mary produced a length of soft rope—hemp, dyed a deep crimson—and began to work it around Tao Xiaonai’s torso.

The shibari harness was intricate, each wrap deliberate, crossing over her breasts, cinching at her waist, then looping between her thighs, the rope pressing against the base of the vibrator. Tao Xiaonai’s arms were bound behind her back, elbows together, the rope biting into her skin. She stood there, helpless, the knots tight but not painful, the design both beautiful and degrading.

“She’s ready,” Mary said, stepping back to admire her work.

Zou Luyao, Sen Xiaomeng, and Lin Ruojian—who had been silent until now, standing in the shadows—unfastened their skirts in unison. The fabric fell to the floor, revealing the strap-on dildos they wore beneath: sleek, black silicone, each one a different size, all designed for maximum penetration. Lin Ruojian’s was the longest, a curved model that promised to reach deep.

Tao Xiaonai’s heart hammered in her chest. This was the moment she had dreamt of, the surrender she had craved. She could feel the cool air on her skin, the rope shifting against her body as she breathed. She could summon her magic—a single thought would turn these bonds to ash, would send them all sprawling—but she didn’t. She chose to stay still, to lower her gaze, to let the fear play across her features.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling with genuine need. “Don’t do this.”

Zou Luyao stepped forward, grasping Tao Xiaonai’s bound wrists and pushing her forward until she was bent over a low table that had been placed in the center of the room. The wood was cold against her stomach, the rope dug into her back. Behind her, she heard their footsteps, the soft rustle of clothing, the click of a strap being adjusted.

Mary was first. She positioned herself behind Tao Xiaonai, one hand on her hip, the other guiding the dildo to her entrance. The vibrator had been removed, leaving her slick and open. The silicone tip pressed in, and Tao Xiaonai gasped as it filled her, stretching her in a way she had longed for. Mary thrust slowly at first, then with increasing rhythm, her hips slapping against Tao Xiaonai’s ass.

“She takes it so well,” Mary murmured, not to anyone in particular. “Like she was made for this.”

Sen Xiaomeng moved to the side, running her fingers through Tao Xiaonai’s short hair, then gripping it, forcing her head up. “Look at me while you’re being fucked. I want to see your face.”

Tao Xiaonai met her eyes, and for a moment, the act almost slipped. The pleasure was real, the humiliation raw. She let a tear roll down her cheek, and saw the satisfaction bloom in Sen Xiaomeng’s smile.

Lin Ruojian came next, taking Mary’s place while the others watched. Her dildo was thicker, and she pushed into Tao Xiaonai with a single, brutal stroke that made her cry out. “This is for all the times you tried to play the hero,” Lin Ruojian said, her voice low and hard. “You’re nothing but a hole for us to use.”

Tao Xiaonai bit her lip, tasting blood. The rhythm continued, each thrust a wave of pleasure and pain, her body responding despite her will. She felt the orgasm building again, but she held it back, wanting to prolong this moment, to let them believe they were breaking her.

Zou Luyao was last. She took her time, circling Tao Xiaonai, running a hand over the ropes, tracing the line of her spine. When she finally entered her, the angle was perfect, the dildo pressing against a spot that made Tao Xiaonai’s vision white out. Zou Luyao fucked her slowly, deliberately, whispering in her ear. “You belong to us now. All of you. Your body, your pleasure, your pain. And that video will make sure you never forget it.”

The orgasm could not be held back. It crashed over Tao Xiaonai, violent and loud, her moans echoing off the metal walls. Zou Luyao kept thrusting through it, milking every last tremor until Tao Xiaonai sagged against the table, panting.

The four women took their turns again, and again, ejaculating into condoms that they discarded with clinical efficiency. They filled her with their artificial seed, each time making her cry out, each time recording the moment with the camera. Finally, when they were done, they stepped back, breathing heavily.

Zou Luyao wiped the sweat from her brow. “Tie her to the chair. Leave her there for the night.”

Mary and Sen Xiaomeng cut the shibari rope from Tao Xiaonai’s body, then bound her to a metal chair—wrists to the armrests, ankles to the legs, a rope around her waist securing her to the back. They left the vibrator on the table, a reminder.

Lin Ruojian adjusted the chair so it faced the camera, still recording. “We’ll check on you tomorrow. Think about what you’ve learned.”

They left one by one, the door hissing shut behind them. The chamber fell silent except for the hum of the lights. Tao Xiaonai sat alone, bound, her body aching, her mind blissfully empty. She could have escaped at any moment, but she didn’t want to. This was where she belonged. This was the release she had been waiting for.

She smiled in the darkness, savoring the weight of the ropes, and closed her eyes.

After the door clicked shut behind Mary and the others, Tao Xiaonai remained kneeling on the cushioned floor for a long moment. The faint scent of latex and sweat still hung in the air, mingling with the sterile hum of the space fortress’s ventilation system. She let out a slow breath, then raised her bound wrists. A whispered word, a flicker of iridescent light, and the ropes fell away, coiling on the mat like sleeping snakes.

She didn’t stand immediately. Instead, she crawled forward on her knees, her gaze fixed on the small waste bin beside the adjustable treatment bed. Inside, nestled among crumpled tissues and empty lubricant packets, lay eight used condoms, each tied at the base, each swollen with its contents. Her heart thudded against her ribs as she reached in and gathered them, one by one, cradling the warm, weighty pouches in her palms.

Rising to her feet, she moved to the full-length mirror mounted on the far wall. The glass reflected a woman with short, disheveled hair, a flush spreading from her cheeks down her neck, and a diamond-studded collar glittering at her throat. With deliberate care, she looped each condom’s tied end through the D-ring on the front of the collar, knotting them securely. Eight translucent, bulbous pendants now hung against her bare chest, swinging gently with each breath, their contents sloshing faintly.

She looked at herself. The image in the mirror was a study in contrasts: the sharp, professional cut of her hair, the expensive gleam of the collar’s gems, and the crude, intimate trophies dangling below. Her hands trembled as she touched one of the condoms, feeling the warmth still trapped inside. A shudder ran through her—not of disgust, but of raw, aching need.

“Look at you,” she whispered to her reflection, her voice husky. “A department head. A specialist. And this is what you crave.”

The mirror offered no answer, only the silent tableau of a woman adorned with the fruits of her own degradation. She imagined a room full of faces—men and women from the engineering bay, the labs, the mess hall—all watching her parade in such a necklace. She pictured them laughing, pointing, then crowding around to add more. The fantasy made her knees weak. She closed her eyes, letting the image burn behind her lids.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

The voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it cut through the humming silence like a blade. Tao Xiaonai’s eyes snapped open. In the mirror, she saw a figure standing in the doorway: Ziwei, her short hair and calm face half-shadowed, arms crossed loosely over her chest. How long had she been there? Tao Xiaonai’s cheeks flamed, but she didn’t turn away from the glass.

“I thought I locked the door,” Tao said, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart.

“You did,” Ziwei replied, stepping into the room. Her gaze swept over Tao’s reflection, taking in the collar and the dangling condoms without flinching. “The lock is a courtesy, not a barrier.”

Tao Xiaonai’s hands dropped to her sides. She met Ziwei’s eyes in the mirror. “Then you saw everything. The ropes. The… this.”

“I saw you choose the ropes,” Ziwei said, stopping a few feet behind her. “I saw the way you moved when you picked those up. Not with shame. With hunger.”

A long silence stretched between them. Tao Xiaonai’s lower lip trembled, then firmed. She turned, facing Ziwei directly. The condoms swayed and bumped against her stomach. “Yes,” she said, the word falling like a stone. “I’m a head of counseling, and I need to be broken. I need to be used, to be nothing but a vessel for anyone who needs to vent. I need to be sealed—my magic sealed—so I can’t fight back, can’t escape, can’t lie to myself anymore.”

Ziwei’s expression softened. She uncrossed her arms and took a step closer. “You’re asking me to take away your escape?”

“I’m asking you to help me surrender,” Tao Xiaonai said. Tears welled in her eyes, but her voice didn’t waver. “I’ve spent years pretending I’m in control. But the only time I feel whole is when I’m not. I want to be a slave, Ziwei. A real one. I want my magic gone, so I have no choice but to submit.”

Ziwei studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “I understand,” she said. “I’ve seen that need in others. In myself, sometimes.” She reached out and traced her fingers along the edge of the diamond collar. “If I do this, you won’t be able to undo it. Not without my help, and I won’t give it lightly. You’ll be trapped in this body, in this role, until I decide you’re ready.”

“Good,” Tao Xiaonai whispered. “That’s what I want.”

Ziwei stepped behind her, placing both hands lightly on Tao’s shoulders. “Close your eyes.”

Tao obeyed. She felt warmth spread from Ziwei’s palms, flowing down her arms, across her chest, pooling in her core. A faint violet glow flickered under the skin of her chest where her magic resided. The glow flared once, twice, then guttered like a snuffed candle. A sensation of emptiness—a clean, hollow absence—settled in her ribs. She gasped, a sob and a sigh tangled together.

When she opened her eyes, the world looked the same, but she felt different. Lighter. More exposed. The condoms hanging from her collar suddenly felt heavier, more real.

Ziwei came around to face her again. “It’s done. Your magic is sealed. No one else will know unless you tell them. I’ll keep your secret, and I’ll protect you.” She paused, her gaze steady. “But you’re mine now, in a way. You understand?”

Tears spilled down Tao Xiaonai’s cheeks, but she was smiling. “I understand. Thank you.”

She turned back to the mirror, running a hand over the damp, warm pouches at her throat. The woman staring back was still herself, but the sharp edges had softened. The armor was gone. She was ready.

Ziwei moved to the door. “I’ll leave you to your reflection. Come find me when you’re ready to serve openly.” The door slid shut behind her with a soft hiss, leaving Tao Xiaonai alone with her mirrored self and her new, empty, willing heart.

The tram glided silently through the maglev tunnel, its windows revealing the distant orbital ring of Xingxi Pavilion 2042 like a necklace of frozen lightning. Tao Xiaonai sat with her back straight, her short hair still damp from the emergency shower she'd taken after the training park incident. Beside her, Ziwei—the new transfer from the logistics division—kept stealing glances at the departmental head's collar, where a faint red mark peeked above the fabric.

"Stop staring," Tao Xiaonai said without turning her head. "You'll draw attention."

Ziwei flushed. "Sorry. I just... I didn't expect you to be one of them. One of us."

Tao Xiaonai allowed herself a small smile. She watched the city lights blur past, each streak of neon a reminder of the pressure building beneath everyone's skin. "Every employee in this fortress carries something heavy. The combat division sees death. Research handles horrors. Operations keeps the machine running while their own minds fracture. We all need an outlet."

"But you're the head of psychological counseling. If anyone should have coping mechanisms—"

"Coping mechanisms." Tao Xiaonai's voice turned dry. "I have plenty. Some are just more... direct than others." She turned to face Ziwei fully, her eyes carrying the weight of someone who had long stopped pretending. "I offer my body because it's the most efficient tool I have. When they tie me down, when they take what they need, they release their darkness into me. I absorb it. I transform it. I keep the fortress stable."

Ziwei bit her lip. "And you want me to help you pretend to be coerced tomorrow? In the training park?"

"Abby doesn't know I'm willing," Tao Xiaonai said. "She thinks she's blackmailing me with that video. She needs to believe she has power over me. It feeds her own release cycle. If she knew I wanted this, the thrill would die, and she'd find someone else to torment. That someone might not be as... durable."

"But the restraints—"

"Sen Xiaomeng designs them with my input. They look terrifying but they're padded, adjustable. I've tested every one of them." Tao Xiaonai's voice softened. "I need you to play the horrified witness tomorrow. Act like you stumbled upon me by accident. If anyone asks later, you were the one who found me and called for help."

Ziwei nodded slowly. "I understand. I'll protect your story." She paused, then added, "I swear it. By my contract with this fortress. By my life."

The tram announced their station. Tao Xiaonai stood, adjusting her jacket to hide the collar marks. "Thank you, Ziwei. You'll find your own rhythm eventually. We all do."

They parted ways at the corridor junction. Tao Xiaonai's apartment was on the twenty-third floor, a modest unit with large windows overlooking the hydroponic gardens. She locked the door behind her and leaned against it, letting the silence settle over her like a second skin.

The bathroom mirror reflected a woman who looked tired but calm. She undressed slowly, running her fingers over the faint bruise on her shoulder—a gift from a combat veteran who had wept afterward, apologizing for his roughness. She had held him, told him it was okay, that she was built for this.

Now, alone, she twisted the hot water tap until steam filled the room. She stepped into the shower and let the heat sting her skin. Her hand drifted to her throat, where the collar had left a thin line. She pressed it, felt the pulse beneath, and closed her eyes.

*This is just the beginning,* she thought. *They'll need more from me. More sessions. More bodies. More of my time. But if it keeps them sane, if it bleeds off the pressure before someone snaps and opens an airlock... then it's worth it.*

She washed away the sweat and traces of the day. When she finally stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel, her phone buzzed on the counter.

It was from an unknown number. But she knew the sender.

The video thumbnail showed her own face, flushed, mouth open, wrists bound to the ceiling chains. The message read: *Nice show. The group chat has a copy too. Want to keep your job? Your dignity? Show up tomorrow at the maintenance bay, south corridor, midnight. Wear something that makes you look like the whore you are. Any deviation, and this goes public. You have no choice.*

Tao Xiaonai read it twice. Then she typed a reply with deliberate, trembling fingers—the trembling was real, but the words were chosen.

*Please... I did what you asked. Don't send it to anyone else. I'll be there. I'll wear whatever you want. Just don't ruin my life.*

She hit send. Then she opened her closet and selected a black dress with a deep neckline, a zipper down the back, and hem that barely grazed her thighs. She laid it on the bed alongside the collar Sen Xiaomeng had given her—the one that looked like a choker but had a hidden lock.

She stood in front of the mirror, naked, and stared at her reflection.

*My slave life has just begun,* she whispered to herself. *But I chose this. I own this.*

And in the group chat, where Abby had posted the video with a laughing emoji, Tao Xiaonai watched the views climb. She felt the familiar thrill of exposure, of surrender, of the line between victim and volunteer blurring into nothing.

She closed the chat, turned off the light, and lay down in the dark. Tomorrow, she would be bound again. Tomorrow, she would play the victim so perfectly that no one would ever suspect the truth.

Tomorrow, she would serve.

The basement corridor hummed with the low thrum of the fortress's life support systems. Tao Xiaonai followed Abby past a series of identical numbered doors, each one a slab of brushed steel set into the concrete wall. The air grew cooler as they descended, the fluorescent lights casting long shadows across the polished floor.

Abby stopped at a door marked B203. A small keypad glowed beside the handle, and above it a tiny camera lens winked red. "Your home for the next seven days," Abby said, her voice flat and professional. She pressed her thumb to a scanner, and the lock clicked open.

The suite beyond was unexpectedly comfortable. A queen-sized bed dominated one wall, covered in crisp white linens. A small desk and chair sat beneath a ventilation grate. To the right, a compact bathroom with a shower stall, toilet, and sink gleamed under soft amber lighting. The walls were painted a calming beige, and a single framed print of a bamboo forest hung opposite the bed.

Tao stepped inside, her heels clicking on the tile floor. She turned slowly, taking in every detail. "It's... nicer than I expected."

Abby remained in the doorway, arms crossed. "The amenities are basic but adequate. You'll receive three meals a day through the pass-through slot beside the door. Fresh towels and linens will be delivered each morning. There's a call button by the bed—press it only for medical emergencies. Ziwei will check on you daily."

Tao walked to the window—a small, barred slit near the ceiling. She could see only a sliver of gray sky and the edge of a maintenance walkway. "Can I leave?"

"No." Abby's tone carried no apology. "The door locks from the outside only. The keypad code changes every twelve hours. You are here for the duration of the holiday cell program. From May first through May seventh, employees will come and go as scheduled. You will not be given advance notice of who, or when."

Tao felt a flush of heat rise to her cheeks. She forced her hands to remain still at her sides, resisting the urge to touch her own throat. "And if I refuse?"

Abby's expression softened, just a fraction. "I think you understand that refusing isn't an option you've given yourself. But if you truly want out, you press the medical button. Ziwei will come. There's a failsafe protocol. No one will be penalized for withdrawing." She paused. "I've seen your file, Director Tao. I know what you've written in your personal journals. The ones you think no one reads. This isn't a punishment. It's an opportunity."

Tao's breath caught. She had been careful—so careful—to hide the black notebook beneath her mattress. And yet Abby knew. Of course Abby knew. Nothing in Xingxi Pavilion remained secret for long.

"I understand," Tao said quietly. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands gripping the mattress edge. "Thank you, Abby. For arranging this."

Abby nodded once. "Ziwei will be by shortly. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be... long." She stepped back into the hallway, and the door swung shut with a solid, pneumatic hiss. The lock engaged with an audible thunk.

Tao sat alone in the silence. She listened to Abby's footsteps fade down the corridor. The ventilation grate hummed overhead, pushing cool air into the room. She lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The white paint was flawless, unmarked by time. She wondered how many others had lain here, in this exact spot, waiting for the same thing.

The minutes passed. She closed her eyes, but sleep would not come. Her mind raced with images of tomorrow—strangers' hands, the weight of bodies, the blur of faces she knew from the canteen and the conference rooms. She would have to act afraid. She would have to struggle. They needed to believe they were taking something from her. And she... she needed them to believe it too.

A soft knock at the door pulled her upright. The lock clicked, and the door swung open to reveal Ziwei, carrying a small medical bag. She wore a simple white coat over a gray sweater, and her expression was kind.

"Director Tao." Ziwei stepped inside and set the bag on the desk. "I'm here to check on you. Make sure you're comfortable, and that the room is set up properly."

Tao stood, smoothing her skirt. "I'm fine. The room is fine."

Ziwei gave a small, knowing smile. "You don't have to pretend with me. I'm not here as your handler. I'm here as your doctor. If you need anything—pain relief, sedatives, bandages—I can provide it. Discreetly."

Tao let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "I'm scared," she said, and meant it. The fear was real, even if it mingled with anticipation. "I don't know what's going to happen."

Ziwei approached slowly, her hand resting lightly on Tao's shoulder. "That's normal. But I want you to know: I'll be monitoring your vitals remotely. If anything goes wrong—if your heart rate spikes too high, if you lose consciousness—I'll be here within two minutes. You're never truly alone."

Tao nodded, her throat tight. "Thank you, Ziwei."

"Is there anything I can help with before I go? The schedule starts at 0800 tomorrow."

Tao looked around the room. The bed, the desk, the bathroom. Everything she needed. She thought about asking for a book, or a music player, but that wasn't what she needed. She needed something else.

"A restraint," she said quietly. "Something I can hold. A collar, or cuffs. Something to remind me why I'm here."

Ziwei studied her for a moment, then opened her bag and withdrew a simple leather cuff, lined with soft fleece. She handed it to Tao. "Wear this on your wrist. It's symbolic, but it might help ground you."

Tao took the cuff and fastened it around her left wrist. The leather was warm, the buckle snug but not tight. She pressed her thumb against the smooth surface and felt a strange sense of calm settle over her.

"Thank you," she said again.

Ziwei smiled. "Rest now. Tomorrow will demand everything you have." She turned and left, pulling the door closed behind her. The lock engaged with another heavy click.

Tao sat on the bed, running her fingers over the cuff. Outside the small window, the sky had begun to darken. The holiday cell was quiet, still, waiting. She lay back, closed her eyes, and let the anticipation settle into her bones. Tomorrow, she would become what she had always wanted to be. But tonight, she was still herself.

She slept.

The rotation of May began not with a calendar flip but with the click of bindings around Tao Xiaonai’s wrists. She knelt in the center of the training room, her short hair already damp from the pre-session warm-up, her breath steady. Behind her, Xiao Miao Dabao fastened the last strap of the leather harness, cinching it tight enough to leave red marks when removed. Tao Xiaonai let out a soft, controlled gasp—just enough to sound reluctant, just enough to feed the fantasy.

“Ready?” Xiao Miao Dabao asked, her voice flat.

Tao Xiaonai nodded, her chin dipping once. She kept her eyes downcast, playing the part of the unwilling volunteer. It was a delicate balance: resist too much and they might stop, but resist too little and the game collapsed. She had learned to calibrate her trembling, to make her body quiver at exactly the right moments.

Ziwei stood to the side, a tablet in hand, stylus poised. “Session one, May second. Trainers: Xiao Miao Dabao, Ziwei, Su Yutang, Su Yuying, Tieban Ouni Jiang, Yin Yunyun. Subject: Tao Xiaonai. Coercion protocol active.”

Xiao Miao Dabao stepped back and gestured to Ziwei. “You go first. Get the baseline.”

Ziwei set the tablet down and approached. She was methodical, almost clinical. Her fingers traced the edges of the harness, checking each buckle before she turned Tao Xiaonai onto her back. The cuffs that locked her ankles to the floor rings made a dull clank against the mat. Tao Xiaonai arched her neck, exposing her throat in a gesture that meant *I am helpless*.

Ziwei’s hand came down on her cheek—not hard, but with enough sting to make Tao Xiaonai’s eyes water. “You’re going to take everything we give you,” Ziwei said, her voice low. “And you’re going to be grateful.”

Tao Xiaonai nodded again, her lips parted. She let a single tear escape, tracking down her temple into her hair. Ziwei caught it with a thumb and wiped it away, then leaned in to bite her collarbone, hard enough to bruise.

The first hour passed in a rhythm of restraint and release. Su Yutang joined with a set of spreader bars that locked Tao Xiaonai’s knees apart, forcing her hips open. Su Yuying took up position behind her, pressing her down into the mat with a knee between her shoulder blades. Tieban Ouni Jiang knelt in front, her hands rough as she guided Tao Xiaonai’s head into her lap. Yin Yunyun stood watch, occasionally adding a sharp word or a light slap to keep the scene alive.

Tao Xiaonai lost count of the positions. She was flipped, folded, suspended by her wrists from a ceiling hook for fifteen minutes, then lowered and bound into a kneeling arch. Her muscles screamed, but she kept her mind blank, letting the pain wash over her like water over stone. By the time Xiao Miao Dabao took her for the final round, Tao Xiaonai’s voice was hoarse from crying out.

Ziwei recorded every detail. *Fourteen restraints used. Three orgasms induced against will. Subject’s resistance diminished after second hour. Coercion maintained through verbal commands.* She uploaded the notes to the encrypted server, then helped untie Tao Xiaonai and walk her to the recovery room.

The next morning, Tao Xiaonai’s body was a map of purple and red—bruises blooming across her thighs, bite marks on her shoulders, rope burns circling her wrists. She looked at herself in the mirror and felt a strange, hollow satisfaction. She wrapped a loose robe around herself and walked back to the training room.

May third’s crew was different. Xiao Huanhuan arrived early, carrying a collapsible cage. Li Benben brought a bucket of ice water. Song Zhuya had a leather paddle with her name engraved on the handle. Han Bing came in with a gag that looked like a metal bit. Yiyi Jiang carried nothing but her own intense focus.

“Session two,” Ziwei announced, stylus ready. “May third. Trainers: Xiao Huanhuan, Li Benben, Song Zhuya, Han Bing, Yiyi Jiang. Subject: Tao Xiaonai. Coercion protocol active.”

Xiao Huanhuan unfolded the cage and gestured. Tao Xiaonai crawled inside, the bars cold against her skin. The cage was too small to stand or stretch; she curled into a fetal position and waited. Li Benben poured the ice water over her head, and she gasped, the shock jerking her limbs. Song Zhuya used the paddle methodically, warming Tao Xiaonai’s skin with repeated strikes until she was weeping.

Han Bing fitted the gag into her mouth, the bit pressing against her tongue. “You don’t need to talk,” Han Bing said. “Just take it.”

Yiyi Jiang placed herself outside the cage, her fingers wrapping around the bars. She watched Tao Xiaonai’s face, studying her. For a long moment, no one moved. Then Yiyi Jiang reached through the bars and pinched Tao Xiaonai’s nipple, twisting sharply. Tao Xiaonai’s muffled scream vibrated through the gag.

They took turns. Xiao Huanhuan unlocked the cage after two hours and pulled Tao Xiaonai out onto the mat. Li Benben bound her wrists behind her back and attached them to her ankles, bending her double. Song Zhuya knelt behind her and used her fingers, hard and fast, while Han Bing held her head steady. Yiyi Jiang kept her hand on Tao Xiaonai’s throat, a constant pressure that reminded her of the line between pleasure and panic.

Tao Xiaonai let herself drift. She counted ceiling tiles when the sensations became too sharp. She focused on the texture of the mat beneath her cheek, the smell of sweat and leather, the sound of her own ragged breathing. She remembered to whimper, to struggle just enough to keep the pretense alive.

After six hours, they released her. She lay on the mat, trembling, her limbs heavy. Ziwei knelt beside her and offered a cup of water. Tao Xiaonai drank, then whispered, “How am I doing?”

Ziwei checked her notes. “Consistent. You’re selling it well. No slip-ups.”

Tao Xiaonai closed her eyes. “Good. Tomorrow’s a new group.”

May 4th arrived with a pale yellow dawn that filtered through the narrow slits of Xingxi Pavilion’s reinforced windows. Tao Xiaonai stood in the center of the training chamber, her short hair still damp from a cold shower she had taken to steady her nerves. The room smelled of cleaned leather and faint antiseptic, a clinical scent that clung to the padded mats and the series of hooks anchored into the walls. She wore only a loose gray robe, tied at the waist with a thin cord, and her hands trembled slightly as she checked the time on the embedded wall panel: 09:00.

The chamber door hissed open, and four figures entered in near single file. Zhang Bupang came first, broad-shouldered and quiet, his eyes scanning the room with the calm of someone who had done this before. Behind him, Linlin moved with a lighter step, her lips pressed into a thin line that betrayed neither excitement nor reluctance. Shi Ge Shashou followed, his fingers already flexing as if testing an invisible grip, and Fang Yi brought up the rear, a coil of soft rope dangling from one hand.

Tao Xiaonai let her shoulders drop, letting the fear she had rehearsed show in the widening of her eyes. “Wait,” she said, her voice cracking just enough. “Wait, this isn’t—I didn’t agree to four at once.”

Zhang Bupang stopped two paces from her. “You agreed to everything,” he said flatly. “You signed the full release waiver last week. Remember?”

She shook her head, backing toward the wall. The act was easy now—too easy. The sweet ache of anticipated helplessness already bloomed behind her ribs. “I thought it would be gradual. One at a time. I’m not ready.”

Linlin stepped forward and gently pulled the cord of Tao Xiaonai’s robe. The fabric parted and slid off her shoulders, pooling at her feet. “You’re always ready,” Linlin murmured. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You want it, but you need us to take it from you.”

Tao Xiaonai’s breath caught. Her bare skin prickled in the cool air, and she turned her face away as if ashamed, but inside she let the sensation wash over her—the exposure, the appraisal, the thrilling loss of control. She felt a hand on her wrist, then the rough kiss of rope against her skin. Fang Yi worked quickly, binding her hands behind her back with a series of practiced loops that cinched tight but did not bite. The coil was exactly the right length to force her shoulders back, lifting her chest forward.

“Don’t resist,” Shi Ge Shashou said, his voice low. He cupped her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Resisting only makes it harder for you.”

“Please,” she whispered, and the word tasted like honey and rust. “Please don’t hurt me.”

They did not answer. Instead, they moved with the quiet efficiency of a team that had coordinated before. Zhang Bupang lifted her by the waist and laid her on the padded mat, while Linlin fastened a second rope around her ankles. Within minutes, Tao Xiaonai was spread-eagled on her back, naked, her limbs anchored to rings bolted into the floor. The ropes held her just taut enough to immobilize her, but with a slight give that allowed her to twist and strain—which she did, deliberately, as if testing her bonds.

The first man—Zhang Bupang—knelt between her legs. Tao Xiaonai bucked her hips, a reflex she was not entirely acting, and then he was inside her. It was swift, deliberate, with no pretense of gentleness. She gasped, her body arching as the sensation cut through her like a blade, and she felt the familiar rush of pain transmuting into something else, something that scraped her nerves raw and left her quivering.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Linlin said from above her. She was kneeling by Tao Xiaonai’s head, her hand stroking the short hair at her temple. “Watch it happen. You need to see it.”

Tao Xiaonai forced her eyes open. She watched Zhang Bupang’s face, his jaw set, his gaze fixed on the point where their bodies joined. She watched Linlin’s fingers, tracing her scalp with a perverse tenderness. She watched Shi Ge Shashou unfasten his trousers, and Fang Yi uncoil another length of rope. The scene unfolded in fragments, each one sharp and distinct, and she let them fill her mind until there was no room left for shame or dignity.

They took turns. They used her mouth, her hands, the spaces between her thighs. Each new entry was a shock that dissolved into a pulse of dark pleasure. The pain was present—a low, throbbing ache in her wrists and ankles from the ropes, the burn of overextension in her shoulders—but it was the pleasure that mattered: the ecstasy of having no choices, no responsibilities, no need to maintain the perfect facade of the psychology department head. Here, on the mat, she was only a body, and the body was being used. That was enough.

After the fourth climax, when they all collapsed around her in a tangle of sweaty limbs and shallow breaths, Tao Xiaonai lay still, her eyes fixed on the ceiling lights. The rope marks on her wrists had begun to redden, and she could taste blood from where she had bitten her lip. But the emptiness inside her, that constant gnawing void that she carried everywhere, was quiet now. Full. Sated.

“Good,” Zhang Bupang said, sitting up and reaching for a towel. “Tomorrow, the second shift.”

Tao Xiaonai nodded, her throat too dry for words.

---

May 5th began in a similar gray light, but this time the chamber was reconfigured. Sen Xiaomeng had arrived early, her short hair tucked behind her ears, and she was adjusting a set of steel restraints that hung from a heavy frame in the center of the room. The frame was new—a low, horizontal gantry with padded leather cuffs at all four corners, designed to hold a person in a kneeling position with arms and legs spread. Beside it lay a collection of additional tools: gag balls, blindfolds, a thin leather leash.

Tao Xiaonai walked into the chamber at 09:00 again, this time wearing nothing at all. She had decided to skip the pretense of resistance. The night had been too short, the memory of the previous day too vivid. She wanted the second session to begin as soon as possible.

Sen Xiaomeng glanced up and offered a small, knowing smile. “You’re eager.”

“No,” Tao Xiaonai said, but the lie was weak. “I’m ready.”

The door opened again, and seven people filed in. Xiao Jing Zai led, a wiry figure with quick eyes and a coiled energy. Ke Ai Duo followed, her expression blank and businesslike. 77 Zhou came third, carrying a small case under one arm. Then Xiao Nao Nao, Tun Tun der, Miao Chen, and Yi Ru’er. They filled the space immediately, their presence crowding the air, and Tao Xiaonai felt her pulse quicken.

There was no preamble this time. Sen Xiaomeng directed Tao Xiaonai to the gantry, and she knelt into the cuffs without hesitation. The leather was cool against her skin, and the cuffs clicked shut with precise finality, locking her wrists and ankles in place. When she tried to move, she found the frame held her completely immobile—on her knees, back straight, her chest and face exposed.

“The magic seal,” Sen Xiaomeng said, holding up a small device—a flat disk with a faint green glow. “Standard suppression field. It’ll neutralize any active spells, including any emergency teleport you might have stored.”

Tao Xiaonai had expected this. She nodded, and Sen Xiaomeng pressed the disk to the base of her skull. A chill spread through her body, deep and invasive, and she felt her internal energy go still. The world seemed to sharpen, as if her senses had been stripped of a protective filter. There was no longer any escape, not even through magic.

“Good,” Sen Xiaomeng said. She stepped back, and the seven gathered around.

The next hours blurred into a haze of bodies and hands and voices that spoke in fragments. Someone—Xiao Jing Zai—took her from behind while Ke Ai Duo knelt in front of her, guiding her head down. 77 Zhou opened his case and produced a leather gag with a small ball attached by a strap; he fastened it around her head, muffling her gasps into soft, wet sounds. Xiao Nao Nao blindfolded her, and the darkness made the rest of the sensations sharper: the skin against hers, the rhythmic pressure, the occasional whisper of encouragement or command.

Tun Tun der took her left hand and wrapped it around something hard, guiding her strokes. Miao Chen bit her shoulder lightly, a sting that made her jerk. Yi Ru’er ran a hand down her spine, tracing the bones, and the touch was almost gentle—but the gentleness only heightened the violence of the other actions, creating a dissonance that Tao Xiaonai drank in.

At some point, she lost track of how many had used her. The ache in her knees and hips became a constant companion, a baseline pain that underscored every thrust and grip. But there was no real damage. The cuffs were padded, the gantry stable, the pace controlled. Through the haze, she caught the faint scent of a familiar perfume—Ziwei’s. The medical officer must have been in the chamber, watching, adjusting the restraints when they shifted too tight. A micro-adjustment here, a release of tension there. The training was intense, but it was sustainable. They would not break her today.

When the seventh person finished, the chamber fell silent except for the sound of breathing. The blindfold was removed, the gag unbuckled, the cuffs unclicked one by one. Tao Xiaonai collapsed forward onto the mat, her body trembling with exhaustion and the residue of satisfaction.

Sen Xiaomeng knelt beside her and gently touched her shoulder. “How do you feel?”

Tao Xiaonai did not answer immediately. She lay on the cool mat, her cheek pressed against the surface, her eyes closed. The darkness inside her was still quiet. Still full.

“Better,” she whispered. “Much better.”

Sen Xiaomeng nodded and stood, gesturing for the others to leave. They filed out in silence, one by one, until only Tao Xiaonai remained, sprawled and vulnerable and utterly at peace.