The section of the floor with Kilroy and I atop it rises like magic to the level of the giant skull; Kilroy makes no haste in guiding me through its mouth and into the darkness. Instead of untold horrors on the other side, a normal looking door leads out into a hallway and locks behind us. I notice it’s labeled “CLEANING.” From here we enter an also-mundane elevator down the hallway, as he takes it from floor “S” up through “B,” “L,” 1 through 20, and up to 21. The door opens and I step out, into… a very normal and familiar looking residential hallway…?
“You’re one of very few to ever make it past this point,” he says, his voice slightly more normal now. It’s more like a man with a deep imposing voice speaking through a subtle voice changer than the terrifying automated voice he started with. “At this point, we’re in the Colonies.”
“I figured as much,” I cautiously reply, looking through the wall of windows in front of me at the sprawling ocean and nautical skyscrapers laid out before us. I guess the skyscrapers aren’t really all just connected to the seabed through nanotech bullshit as we’re led to believe by Telecom--they’re built from the base of the sunken city, and some of them are just the tips of half-submerged skyscrapers that have been expanded upon.
“It’s important to have a base,” he continues, guiding me down the hall. “A safe-haven. Somewhere out of Telecom jurisdiction, you know. That’s what’s great about NanoTEC. The city/tourist attractions/ART apartments Colonies above and the bustling neon anarchist metropolis Neptune below are all that we own--but we’re still a Corporate-State. Telecom can’t touch us, it would be an act of war; and we’re allied with the Kowloon District in Foxcomm, so they know better than to fuck with us.”
Who needs interrogation when the suspect won’t stop babbling? “Cool,” I reply.
“In here,” he says, guiding me through a door near the end of this hallway. I step inside and find a luxurious red velvet couch across from a golden throne flanked by masked men in black. Crown molding adorns the top and bottom of the room and red toile colonial wallpaper speckled with Elizabethan tapestries hung high cast a royal air across the space. Kilroy motions me to sit on the couch and then settles into the throne, crossing his legs and interweaving his fingers. “Make yourself at home, Detective; we have much to discuss. How do you feel?”
“Thirsty,” I honestly reply, removing my mask as the drugs kick in more now.
“I can take care of that,” he chuckles, snapping his fingers as the man on his right slips through a door behind him and returns immediately with a fresh bottle of Dom Perignon and a gold-rimmed glass. Kilroy himself stoops from his throne to pour me a glass and present it to me.
“N-no thanks,” I say, my resistance waning. I’ve made it this far sober–well, without alcohol, but–you know what I mean. I’m dying to have it, and the condensation on the bottle alone is making my mouth water and my right hand start to spasm again, but… if I give in at this point, I’m worthless. I’ve done so well so far.
“Are you certain, Detective? I was led to believe you had a bit of an affinity for the drink. I made certain to have all the finest liquors at our disposal for your visit. What would it hurt to let it slide this one time--to give in just one time?”
“Forget it.”
“Good,” Kilroy replies, “you’ve passed my first test! Arthur, lower the pistol.” I glance behind me and let out a quick shout as I see Arthur lower a Glock from my head. “He’s my third in command, right behind Araña, so I let him come up with the first test. He thought simplicity would be best: if you can’t overcome the disease holding you back, you get shot in the fucking head. Quick. Iconic. Elegant! That’s Arthur.” Arthur gives him a thumbs up. I sink into the couch. “Kidding, Blake, I’m--I’m kidding! But you’re my guest, and that was quite rude of–of Arthur. Shame on you, Arthur, you should know better. Go ahead, show him that it’s just a water gun.” He pulls the trigger and sure enough, my head is now very wet. “See, we’re all friends here. Amigos! Broskis!”
“Uh…”
“Anyway, I clearly misunderstood your request. Say no more. My Skulls will be honored to... ‘entertain’ their god’s guest of honor. I have many masochistic followers who will hop themselves up deeply on Rapture Red and beg me to prevent them from acting on that bubbling passion building and tingling inside them until I give them direct orders and permission–which I’ll be willing to do for your sake, my friend. And, of course, like all things, I know just your type.”
“N-no you don’t–” In walks a drop-dead stunning young woman, a freed ART from the looks of it, with a purple bob-cut, tattoos head to toe, kinky blood-red lipstick on the fullest lips I’d seen all day and an amazing chest barely contained by a PRINCESS OF PING PONG crop-top, competing for my attention with her shapely little assets under shorts so short I’m pretty sure they could be considered a thong. “Detective, meet Cassidy,” he says with an implied smirk. “Cassidy, meet Blake.”
Cassidy saunters up to me, winks, licks her lips and sits next to me, my heart pounding. “My lord,” she asks breathily, looking me up and down like a lion in front of a piece of steak, “what can I do with him?” She falls chest-first on my stomach and reaches into my pants, kneading my dough to get me started.
“Hands only,” Kilroy replies, as she winces in disappointment. “You’re here to entertain, not violate.”
“Please at least let me use my mouth,” she pouts, stroking my growing snake as my heart races out of control, because I’m almost definitely going to get blown or have my head blown off, it’s just a question of which one, or both, and if both, in which order.
“Oh, fine. If our guest is okay with that, of course. You’ve seen the dangers getting carried away on Rapture can pose, but I think as long as you avoid penetration and the accompanying neural linkages and overloads, you’ll be okay.”
“That’s a risk I’m, uh, w-willing to take,” I reply, shuddering as she removes her heels and slips off the couch, positioning herself at my crotch and unzipping my pants. Her warm breath sets my rod on edge as it throbs in response, and I nearly scream when her lips embrace my tip and draw me into the slippery oral cavern. On Rapture Red it’s like everything is ten times more intense. It feels like I’m twice as big and like my entire lower body is feeling every sensual rush with every flick of her tongue and pump of her lips. I can feel my mind slipping away and the very room I’m in starts to melt before my eyes. All I can think about is pleasure and how bad I want to finish and then how bad I want to go again.
“Blake, who sent you to us to begin with?” Kilroy asks.
“Huh? What do you mean? You s-s-sent for me, d-dumbass,” I reply.
“Who told you to join LDS? Who are you working for?”
This should have been my key to be concerned but I was too… distracted. “Uh… I mean I honestly d-don’t remember, I joined when I was drunk.”
“We know you rejoined the Ocean View Police Department. Don’t bullshit me, Blake. Why did you rejoin the force?”
“I…” Who gives a fuck, I’m working for the big bad corporation at this point, this is cyberpunk enough I’m probably technically the bad guy right now anyway. “I joined the f-force again because I committed some crimes and st-stuff and they said they’d let it slide if I used my ‘in’ with LDS to help take you down…”
“Is that so?” Kilroy asks, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice that worries me he’d known this all and is just testing me. “Cassidy, give him a hand.” Cassidy removes my member from her mouth, spits in her right palm and starts slowly but steadily stroking me, just fast enough to keep me near the edge and in pained, trance-like ecstasy but not enough to actually get me anywhere further. “What was your plan to beat me?”
“I… didn’t really have one, actually.”
“The amazing Blake who took down the entire Wild West Syndicate by himself didn’t even have a plan?”
“I… didn’t know what to do until I got more information, so I’m on r-recon right now. I’m undercover.”
“Yeah, you’re doing a great job on that front, too,” he laughs. “ We brought you here of our own accord, and you walked in knowing we know who you are. What exactly did you THINK would happen, oh almighty genius one? Cassidy, tongue.”
She stops stroking, leaving me so close to the edge I physically groan in panic, and starts very slowly licking me like a popsicle as the rest of my body starts to tremble and I struggle to maintain my sanity. I can see white spots in my vision with each lick; I’m so close and it’s so intense. I hope I don’t die. Oh fuck, wait, I really do hope I don’t die, that one girl actually did!
“It’s… n-not working out great,” I reply.
“Blake,” he says, crossing his legs the other way, “I’ve read your book, seen your interviews. I respect you as a… rival, we’ll say. It’s invigorating to see you trembling pantsless before me like a pathetic, dying cat in heat, but also... disappointing. You’ve put up so little of a fight, posed such a miniscule threat that I can scarcely find it in my mind to fear you in the slightest. I wanted this to be a whole scenario for us, have some fun, y’know? You play the dashing genius detective working for the government, and I play the roguish, dangerous supervillain who sets out to destroy you and keep you from usurping my plan. I thought I’d finally, after an eternity of searching, found a worthy adversary for my little game, but you don’t just lack the cards to beat me, you’re playing without a hand at all.”
“Wh-wh-what do you want from m-me?” I ask. Fuck, I’m only getting higher as the nanodrug continues to set in. This is really bad.
“Blake, I want to defeat you and then make you mine.”
“K-kinky.”
“Not like that, Blake. The war we’re fighting is a thumb wrestle compared with what is yet to come. Secrets from other worlds that have been locked up for longer than you can fathom are rising to the surface of human consciousness again and the metaphorical shit is about to collide with the proverbial fan. Zero Point Energy isn’t what you think. Telecom isn’t what you think. Madame Topaz isn’t what you think. Right now, as I explained, you and I are good guy versus bad guy, but I know I’m going to need your help, and you, mine. You’ve seen our facilities. You can operate with me in perfect peace and safety here… with our minds together, once we sober you up, we’ll be unstoppable. The fate of everyone under Telecom jurisdiction is in your hands, now, Detective–in our hands.”
“I-I’ll never join you,” I reply, trying REALLY hard to do the right thing here. I am, right!? “Y-you don’t get it. Y-you killed so many p-people, r-ruined the streets with R-Rapture--”
“Telecom kills more people in a day than Rapture has in its existence,” he replies, sighing. “Rapture is an escape, an empowerment, a tool for pleasure and magick and freedom of thought and of spirit. You’re blinder than I thought. Perhaps in your retirement and alcoholism you’ve lost your edge and you’re really just a slave to the system like the rest, now, after all. Last chance? Yes? No?”
“N-n-no… still no---”
“Well,” he groans, rising from his chair, “I hope you enjoy this, Blake; I hope you live to l reconsider my offer. If not, I’ll lose no sleep over a corporate pig frying in a puddle of its own bacon juice. A fitting finale for a fallen fool.”
He and Arthur exit, the men in black staying behind as Cassidy removes her crop top--no bra underneath–and at this point just seeing her firm exposed chest sends me halfway to climax. She places my cock between her lips again; her bob-cut blissfully bouncing as her whole head bobs up and down, her hand massaging my balls. I feel my whole body go rigid as the passion wells up through my warbling warp pipe, and I know I’m in trouble when just the build-up feels like a train about to plow its way through a dog-door.
When I finally release, my vision goes totally white, CGI Tetris blocks pelting me from all directions as I totally lose my grasp on reality and trip into nothingness, my entire body spasming like a dying fish. The waves of orgasm extend all the way up to my hair as literally every molecule in my body feels the sensation. This continues for what feels like a full minute, blast after blast until I feel the sensation of falling out of my body and the colorful shapes in my vision turn into patterns of swirling black. I look up and see my pathetic naked body and look down and see me sinking through the damn couch like a ghost… and then I feel even my mind shut off entirely. Fucking Kilroy, weaponizing sex and drugs! My two favorite things–how could I have resisted?!
Guess this is it. I died like I lived: badass, metal as fuck, cyberpunk as hell and being sucked off by hot ART chicks. Wish the dude from earlier was there too but oh well, there’s always next life.