Daniel stifled a groan, sinking his teeth into his forearm as he contorted from the intense pain. Sennoy, furious, shoved him into the pantry, responding to his hesitant plea to prepare with a snarl, and viciously spat out.

"Bend over, now!"

He slammed into him, hissing furiously as Daniel let out a stifled cry - it couldn't have been pleasant for him, likely feeling squashed by the unyielding walls that hadn't been stretched. But he cursed vehemently and immediately started thrusting, pulling the towel hard against Daniel's abdomen, forcing himself into him. Daniel lurched forward, his body instinctively trying to escape the pain, to disengage from the cock that was causing him agony, inadvertently intensifying the force of the thrusts. He couldn't numb his awareness, couldn't retreat into memory - the physical torment kept him connected to reality, making detachment excruciatingly painful, almost reminiscent of before... Daniel sobbed, gnawing on his saliva-drenched sleeve, emitting guttural moans, barely able to remain standing when Sennoy, grunting in satisfaction, finally pulled out and grumbled irritably.

"Put your clothes on, quit messing around!"

Daniel struggled to pull up his pants and underwear, his hands slippery with sweat and trembling as they fumbled through his clothes. A searing pain shot through his stomach and thighs, making him feel as if there was a gaping hole between his legs. As he managed to pull them up and barely buttoned up his trousers, he felt a sudden wetness inside, sluggishly realizing it was probably blood. Staggering a few times, he bit his lip, flushed with belated embarrassment as Sennoy watched him with contemptuous snorts. Daniel clenched his fists, sensing something precious slipping away, emphasizing his newfound insignificance. He forced himself to walk more smoothly, despite the stinging and pulling sensation in his ass, numb with pain. It wasn't until he was outside that he could fully breathe. The cold air brought him back to reality, cooling his burning cheeks and reminding him that there would be no special treatment here. The initial leniency was just a trick - Sennoy had only allowed the newly downgraded to get accustomed before revealing the harsh truth of his future life. Forget, don't dwell, don't try to understand - just accept and move on. That's it.

Svetka neatly arranged the creams on the bunk, the price was sky-high, but Daniel didn't care. The pain was relentless, hindering Daniel's ability to work, clouding his thoughts, and serving as a constant reminder of his humiliation. Daniel opted for the most expensive one - money was no issue for now, but he resolved to always be prepared in the future, just like a rubber sex doll should be. Pushing aside any traces of self-pity, he walked past the jeering convicts who mocked his stiff gait, focusing solely on the expensive tube in his pocket, determined not to be provoked into a confrontation.

Meanwhile, Sennoy seemed to be going through a dark phase. A couple of days later, he didn't penetrate Daniel's still-healing ass end, but instead forcefully thrust into his mouth, causing Daniel to gag violently. It was a miracle he didn't vomit. The inflamed throat rendered him unable to speak for days, and the corners of his mouth were left bleeding from the intense thrusts. These experiences only intensified the murky fear lurking within him, making it increasingly difficult to cope. The uncertainty of the future loomed ominously - would he endure until a positive outcome of the appeal, or would he soon slit his wrists?

***

Daniel coughed harshly, clutching his hand to his right side where the force of the coughs had triggered sharp pain. It was a wonder he hadn't succumbed to a cold earlier, considering his daily exposure to temperatures ranging from minus fifteen to twenty degrees Celsius, coupled with chronic malnutrition and resulting weight loss. He considered himself fortunate to have lasted two and a half months under such conditions. Enduring a fit of coughs, he lethargically grasped a metal bar and began chipping away at the ice, struggling against the creeping chills and mounting weakness. A throbbing headache pounded in his temples, making it difficult to concentrate, let alone work.

He just wanted to take a Tylenol, crawl into a warm bed, and sleep - sleep deeply. But such dreams felt foolish. His only hope lay in the possibility that it wasn't pneumonia; antibiotics were scarce in the zone, typically reserved for dire emergencies, while only paracetamol was readily available. He berated himself for not taking the initial symptoms seriously, for neglecting to buy antibiotics from Svetka, realizing he had no one to blame but himself.

Yet, the illness had its silver lining: Sennoy hadn't called him for the past six days. When Daniel, kneeling, sneezed, barely managing to cover himself with his elbow, Sennoy retreated with a smirk, unleashing a barrage of curses for nearly having been contacted, but refraining from physical violence. A feeble kick hardly qualified as a genuine beating by current standards, leaving Daniel relieved to be spared his usual duties. If it were up to him, he'd remain sick for the duration of his sentence - Sennoy would leave him alone, and his status as Sennoy's mashka would deter others from laying hands on him. However, the situation was taking a grim turn: he could barely move, his legs grew increasingly unsteady, trembling with each passing moment.

"Hey, the sick one," Palka huffed as he approached. "Get to Sennoy's barracks, he wants you there!" he added, repeating the message to the guard, "Sennoy wants him."

Daniel struggled to suppress a groan, the mere thought of Sennoy's fucking him sent shivers down his spine. However, he obediently nodded, moving slowly and reluctantly towards the distant barracks, a lesson he had learned from his time in this place: silence was often the safest option. He trudged along, his body swaying and trembling, his eyes fixed blankly ahead. The once familiar landscape now appeared hazy and blurred before his eyes, and Daniel somberly realized that he was running a fever. He urgently needed to reach the hospital, or rather crawl there, and beg for treatment.

As he reached for the door handle, he almost lost his balance, the horror of the situation sharpening his senses - if he had grabbed the handle instead of the rope meant for the downgraded to open the door, he could have met a fatal end. To endure so much hardship only to get killed over a minor misstep was unthinkable. Daniel coughed again, struggling to breathe in the frigid air, his fingers fumbling with the rope to open the door. After several attempts, the door creaked open, and a wave of warmth engulfed him, instantly lulling him into drowsiness.

Making his way down the lengthy corridor to Sennoy's quarters, Daniel attempted to use his elbows to push himself forward whenever possible, painfully aware that he must avoid touching anything. His head grew increasingly foggy, his temples throbbing, and his nose running, yet Daniel pressed on - if the boss called for him, he would have to crawl there, even if it cost him his life. An inmate washing the floors pointed him in the right direction, though the path seemed endless. He shrugged awkwardly, ensuring Daniel wouldn't accidentally collide with him, and yelled something derisive in passing. Daniel barely registered the words, the insults no longer pierced his consciousness. He had learned to numb himself to such taunts. Indeed, he had discovered that one could adapt to almost anything, given the will to survive.

Sennoy's living quarters stretched out in a long room with eight bunks, noticeably more comfortable than the standard accommodations - a revelation that left Daniel astonished. Bunk beds lined up by the window were covered with warm blankets and homemade linen, while blue terry towels hung neatly nearby. A table with a kettle and cups, a TV, and even a refrigerator completed the scene. It felt as though Daniel had stumbled into the home of a prison official rather than that of a fellow inmate. There was no one in the room except for Sennoy himself - the other inmates were likely busy with their work duties.

"Good afternoon," Daniel greeted quietly, his sleeve pressed against his mouth to stifle a sneeze.

"Hi," Sennoy rose from his chair, his expression oddly concerned as he looked at Daniel. "Is it serious?"

"Yeah, fever. High fever," Daniel grumbled, hoping faintly that Sennoy would let him go.

"Sit over there," Sennoy gestured to a stool near the door, which Daniel had failed to notice initially. Daniel let out a tired sigh and lowered himself onto it, leaning his head back against the warm wall. The warmth seeped through his hat, comforting him and lulling him into sleep. Consequently, Daniel missed Sennoy's swift movement towards him until Sennoy tossed something into his lap. Blinking heavily, Daniel focused his vision and felt sluggish amazement wash over him once more - Sennoy had given him two packets of medication.

"These are antibiotics and fever reducers," Sennoy confirmed, hovering over him. "Go to the hospital, tell Marinka to sign you up for a couple of days. Tell her I said so. Got it?"

It took a moment for the words to register. Initially, relief flooded Daniel at the realization that he wouldn't have to take it in the ass or suck his cock. Yet, as the relief settled, a sense of apprehension crept in, reminding him that any sudden changes, even positive ones, needed careful consideration and understanding of the underlying motives.

"Why the sudden change?" Daniel's voice was weakened by illness, lacking its usual politeness and deference. Fear, muddled by fever, seemed insignificant, relegated to the background. What mattered now was understanding the reasoning behind the unexpected gesture.

"Because," Sennoy interrupted vaguely. "Once you're back on your feet, you'll have a different, easier job, and you'll join us here. Your bunk's right over there," he gestured to an empty bunk without bedding or a mattress. "I've already arranged it, everyone's aware."

"Thanks," Daniel struggled to rise, his heavy boots shifting. "I-I should... go?"

"Go," Sennoy affirmed, though Daniel thought he detected a hint of puzzlement in his steely gaze. It must've been the fever, Daniel reasoned. He nodded to Sennoy, and said softly, "Bye," before making his way out.

Daniel moved in with Sennoy once his incessant sneezing subsided - he feared inadvertently spreading germs and sealing his own fate. He felt uneasy, unsure whether the change in his circumstances was for better or worse. If the two days spent in the hospital had provided a brief respite from contemplating the shift, allowing him to rest in peace and warmth, returning to his old bunk made the reality sink in fully. After supper, he reluctantly gathered his belongings and trudged wearily to his new quarters.

Sennoy shared the "house" with his royal army, his closest blatnye*: the silent, imposing Hasan, rumored to possess lethal strength in his fists; the jittery, nervous Andron, overseeing the illicit supply network; the short, stocky Vlad, whose role Daniel had yet to grasp; and the most menacing of them all, the irascible Shamil, who took care of any opposition in the zone. Shamil struck fear into everyone in the zone, even the boldest - rumor had it that he was utterly unhinged, capable of unleashing relentless fury at the slightest provocation. What if Sennoy decided to transfer him over, to share him with his inner circle, to offer him up as a commodity? That would be an even heavier burden to bear - serving one man was already mentally taxing, but serving several... It could very well crush him, despite his Herculean efforts to endure.

There was no one to consult - no one could provide insight on this change better than Sennoy himself. And yet, questioning him was out of the question. All Daniel could do was cling desperately to hope and comply.

Sennoy's entourage received Daniel's presence with palpable disdain, evident in their icy glares. If they harbored any grievances against him, they chose to remain silent, preferring to ignore him instead. Oddly, this disregard was comforting - at least there were no predatory looks of anticipation. Sennoy refrained from introducing them - it wasn't customary to introduce men to a rooster - and surprisingly addressed Daniel in a different manner: no longer with derisive mockery, but in a calm, non-sneering tone.

"You holding up?" Sennoy flashed a faint grin as Daniel gave a nod, managing only a mumbled "hey." "This is your bunk. Don't touch anything in the house, stick to your own stuff - same drill as always, clear?"

"Got that," Daniel replied, his nerves on edge as he surveyed the vibe in the house, oblivious to the shifted tone. Shamil and Hasan spread out prayer mats, kneeling down to pray. Daniel let out a quick sigh of relief: with their devoutness, there was hope they'd steer clear of the forbidden stuff - haram. The other pair kept up their card game, tossing around terse words like "bid on five, pass, misère." Sennoy rose from his bunk with a single, deliberate motion, underscoring his hefty strength, and sauntered lazily over to Daniel.

"About my people," Sennoy gestured with a shake of his head towards the men around him, signaling "my people". "You're free to talk openly, make eye contact, but only in the house. Outside, you stick to the usual rules. And if you get out of line, you'll be kicked out of here and sent back to the general population. Understand?"

"Got it," Daniel confirmed, recognizing the situation but lacking comprehension of its rationale. Clearly, no explanations were included in the favors granted, nor should they have been anticipated; a pakhan isn't obligated to explain anything to a rooster.

"You'll chow down with us, but at your own table. Grab yourself a seat or something. Just take the one you used last time, it's already been touched by you," Sennoy snapped his fingers. "Mind your health, ain't no one looking to kick the bucket early. What were you pushing on the scales before?"

"Thanks," Daniel responded, perplexed by what seemed like an extraordinary act of kindness. "Hundred and fifty...," Daniel paused, mentally converting to kilograms. "About seventy."

"And what's the scale showing now?" Sennoy eyed him skeptically, scanning him up and down, while Daniel envisioned his own appearance: gaunt, with bloated cheeks, a snotty nose, and lips swollen from a prolonged fever.

"I am not sure, haven't stepped on a scale," Daniel shrugged. He'd noticed the pounds dropping off back in the detention center when stress had killed his appetite. The hard labor and sparse meals hadn't helped either, leaving him looking like a shadow of his former self. The uncomfortable exchange was becoming more apparent. It was evident that Sennoy would've preferred him to be in better shape – the motive behind the favor was crystal clear. Disgusting.

"Maybe lost five or six kilograms."

"Or all ten of'em, you're gonna get blown away by the wind," Sennoy chuckled. "You poppin' any vitamins?"

"Yeah," Daniel fidgeted, noting wistfully that Sennoy seemed to be getting a bit antsy, his cheeks slightly flushed and his eyes more alert.

"Let's go," Sennoy looked at towards the door, and Daniel dropped his bag on the bunk and followed. The atmosphere was tense after the long hiatus, the uncertainty of what lay ahead clouding Daniel's mood. Yet with each step, he felt the tension easing, mentally preparing himself for whatever awaited. It was a relief that Sennoy wouldn't be publicly fucking him this time, although he easily could have - likely not for Daniel's sake, but to avoid embarrassing himself in front of his crew. The rules in the house were different; they had a secluded nook in the corner, hidden from view where the bunks lay unoccupied. Daniel smirked wryly as he entered the nook, hearing Sennoy's quickened breath behind him. Well, it was almost private.

"Blowjob or...?" Daniel whispered softly, standing almost toe to toe, his eyes fixed on Sennoy's chest. They matched in height, but it felt easier to detach himself from the situation, avoiding eye contact for as long as possible.

"Or" Sennoy responded in the same hushed tone. "Were you getting ready?"

"No," Daniel realized grimly that this was going to be particularly painful - if Sennoy caught him off guard, he wouldn't give him time to prepare, he'd just go for it. Again, the sharp, painful thrusts would prevent him from distracting himself, from drifting away into imaginary havens, exacerbating the humiliation of the act. This was awful.

"Prepare yourself," Sennoy surprised him again, then astonishingly pulled out a tube of anal lubricant from his pocket. He had never shown such consideration before. Daniel blinked, confused, staring at the unfamiliar object in Sennoy's hand, and carefully, without touching Sennoy's fingers, took the tube.

He removed his pants and underwear, turned sideways to avoid facing Sennoy's chest, squeezed the lubricant onto his fingers, and quickly began to stretch himself with practiced dexterous movements. No blush of shame colored his cheeks now - that silly human emotion gradually faded away. He was preparing an orifice designed for exit, not entry, as Marquez's heroine had said, to now please another man. Just a bodily cavity, of secondary importance, not defining him as a person. He bent over, resting his hands against the wall as Sennoy impatiently unzipped his fly - a reflex ingrained without thought. He exhaled sharply through his teeth, and squeezed his eyes shut - the entry stung sharply. He noted idly that Sennoy had forgotten to bring a towel, which he could have flung around Daniel's abdomen during the thrusts. He never touched him with his hands, although it was considered acceptable to grab at a rooster's clothing during sex - it didn't count as full contact. Sennoy didn't adhere to this strained convention - his caution didn't recognize half measures. . Now he was clearly uncomfortable - Daniel,wrinkling his nose and trying to mentally escape, was involuntarily hinderingwith awkward jerks and unhappy sniffles. Finally, Sennoy pushed him against the corner with his hips, urged him in, grabbed the window bars, and, finding the rhythm, began to thrust harder and more deliberately. Daniel rested his forehead against his crossed arms and tried to relax - it was much easier to endure the powerful thrusts this way.

It ended quickly, much to Daniel's relief - he barely had time to concentrate before Sennoy finished with a wheeze and withdrew his flaccid cock. The irritated, swollen anus didn't close immediately; Daniel felt a greasy drop of lubricant drip out before the muscles tightened. He stood, waiting for Sennoy to step away. Retrieving the paper napkins he always kept for such moments, he dabbed at the unpleasantly slippery area, rolled the napkin into a ball, slipped it into his pocket, and hurriedly pulled on his underwear. Mechanical, automatic movements. That's it, free for the day.

Or so he thought. Sennoy, satisfied, stretched thin lips into a smile and ordered.

"Let's chat."

Daniel would have preferred a quick rinse and some rest, but he obediently sat on the bunk, clasping his hands and feeling the discomfort in his sore hole. If Sennoy wanted to talk, he would listen silently. Sennoy pulled up his own stool, unembarrassed, and sat across from him at a safe distance, in case Daniel sneezed, and began speaking softly.

"I didn't buy your story then, Dasha..." Sennoy twitched, and Daniel tensed up; Sennoy didn't seem keen on using his rooster nickname right now. "Didn't believe you... When you rolled in, we got a wire from some thieves-in-law telling us to keep our hands off you, so we did, until suddenly another one came, yanking that protection.

First, I didn't even bother asking who was looking out for you, then I just stopped caring. But then I dug into it. Found out it was Bystritsky's boys," Sennoy snorted sharply, and Daniel, listening closely, shot him a quick, intense stare, his nostrils flaring and brows furrowing.

"I got beef with the old man Bystritsky, and I won't go into details. And you didn't help matters by claiming the younger Bystritsky dumped you in the joint - why the hell would he protect you then? I even regretted taking you under my wing; thought about tossing you back into the gen pop," Daniel swallowed hard and shivered; he hadn't realized the danger he was in. He'd been cocky, thinking he was safe because he was careful, but turns out Alexander ordered the crew on the inside not to touch him. He shielded him, then tossed him to the wolves - played with him like a damn toy! Anger clenched his chest, making it hard to breathe right. Unaware of the storm he stirred up, Sennoy kept on with his laid-back tale.

"I'm thorough, I don't jump into decisions, so before handing you off to the gen pop, I dug around. And if I found out you were lying, you'd be in deep shit." Daniel went cold, realizing the weight of those words, and he sucked in a desperate breath.

"Don't sweat it, I told you, I did some digging. Turns out you're legit. You really were on Bystritsky's project, he openly gave you a hard time, damn queer," Sennoy, having lit a cigarette, spat contemptuously, showing his disdain for gays.

"And when Zinoviev screwed Sasha Bystritsky, you caught the heat. You were dumb to stick around. If I were you, I'd have been on the first plane home the minute I heard about Zinoviev's vanishing act."

"I never imagined the repercussions would be this dire," Daniel responded somberly, sensing the need to respond from the pause. "My colleagues insisted it wasn't our fault, that we were as blindsided as Bystritsky. If it weren't for that incriminating photo, things wouldn't have turned out so bad for me."

"Hey, 'bout that pic," Sennoy smirked, flicking ash onto the floor. "Look at me. Got any ideas who ratted you out?"

"No, I do not..." Daniel sighed, meeting Sennoy's unexpectedly warm gaze. "Our partner Pavel Ivanov was with me at the club. He left kind of oddly, without a word. Even though I'm half-Russian, I've mingled with Russian-speaking folks in various countries, but I'm not fully tuned into all the cultural subtleties, so I couldn't tell if that's the norm or not. I mean, do they ghost parties like that around here?"

"Depends on the party. So, he dragged you there and then just bailed, no explanation?" Sennoy squinted, intrigued.

"Not really. He said he got an urgent call and had to rush to send a presentation – typical consulting stuff. Still, I'm not convinced Pavel had anything to do with that photo. Plus, they checked him after the scam was uncovered – he was clean. And why would he set me up anyway? I don't get it," Daniel sighed. "I didn't cross him, we had no conflicts, I was low on the totem pole, no competition, no gain for him in my downfall. I was planning to go back to the US after the second project."

"Well, yes, it makes sense," agreed Sennoy thoughtfully. "Always gotta look for someone who benefits. So, he continued to work, huh?"

"Yeah, that's what my consulate told me. Just keeps working there like the rest," Daniel continued, biting his lip, tilting his head back, feeling his eyes sting from the cigarette smoke. Just smoke...

"And you are here, in the slammer," Sennoy concluded bluntly. "Think, think hard, who gains from all this. Once you're out, you'll settle the score. You can't let this slide. Someone played you like a pawn, figure out who."

"I don't have a clue!" Daniel's voice rose involuntarily before he reined it in, the ever-present fear clutching at his insides, a stark reminder of who he was addressing. "There was no clear beneficiary, just someone leaked it, end of story. Maybe it was someone from Zinoviev's circle, covering their tracks so they wouldn't be targeted. The only ones who stood to gain from framing me were them. My lawyer mentioned that everyone close to Zinoviev was being investigated, and many of them had left the country. I don't know their names; I saw them once and never again."

"Got it," Sennoy shrugged. "You made a dumb move, ended up catching stray bullets. That's how it goes. Let's drop it. Anyway, about that...," Sennoy wrinkled his nose. "I won't make any promises, but when I'm out of here, I'll see what I can do to spring you before your time's up. Not 'cause you're my mashka, but 'cause I got beef with Bystritsky, you catch my drift? Don't go getting any fancy ideas."

Daniel was taken aback by the overwhelming surge of gratitude washing over him. It was the same feeling he had felt when Sennoy took him under his wing as his mashka. He was so overcome by it that he couldn't even muster a response, just sat there, stunned. He stared intensely, almost desperately, at Sennoy, who looked uncomfortable, like he'd just bitten into a lemon, and got up, signaling the end of the conversation.

Daniel remained seated, staring at the now empty chair where Sennoy had sat, his eyes lingering for a few more moments, while Sennoy and his crew chatted away at the communal table. The flicker of hope that had sparked brightly was reassuring, empowering, gently reminding him that he wasn't fighting his battles alone anymore. Now David in his battle with Goliath had another Goliath by his side, albeit a smaller one, also battered by fate, but still, another Goliath.

* connected thieves