"You're not hard? Open your damn eyes."
A slap cracked across Rusty's face. His head snapped sideways. Eyes squeezed shut, mind reeling, he couldn't process what the hell just happened.
He forced his lids open—and froze.
Nipples.
The first thing he saw were nipples, right in front of him. Huge. Round. Close enough to touch—if his hands weren't tied. Pain bloomed in his cheek, but the shock buried it.
Where the fuck did Milfy send me?
"You bastard! I paid for this dick, and you can't even get hard after taking my money?"
Her voice tore through his daze.
He blinked at her—no, scanned her. Naked. Straddling him. Skin dark and glistening like hot chocolate, breasts so massive they jiggled with her every breath, lips swollen, eyes blazing.
Why the hell does she look sexy and furious at the same time?
"Either you pay me back," she hissed, "or fuck me for the full amount. Just because you looked decent, I paid a thousand dollars—and this is what I get?"
Her shriek echoed in the room. Her chest bounced with it.
His brain scrambled. A woman, completely naked, on top of him. He was naked too—hands strapped to the bedpost.
Is this a roleplay gone wrong?
"Thup!"
Another slap. Louder. Sharper. His cheek lit up in fresh pain.
"What kind of gigolo are you?" she snarled. "Can't even get hard for a customer?"
His eyes blew wide. Gigolo?
Didn't the system say he was here to tame beasts? What the hell is this setup? A brothel?
Worse—he wasn't hard.
And someone actually paid a thousand dollars for him?
Why can't I get hard? His thoughts screamed.
'Milfy?! At least explain—what the hell is this?!'
'You said you wouldn't touch your dick for twenty-four hours if you passed the trial,' Milfy's voice rang through his head, smug and unbothered. 'So your dick's locked for sexual purposes until the timer runs out.'
Even though Rusty couldn't see Milfy physically, one thing was certain—he was fucked.
Rusty stared at the woman on top of him, mouth parted, breath short.
This wasn't a dream. This wasn't even a nightmare. It was Milfy's sick idea of a mission.
"You're scamming me, huh?" the woman snapped. Her hands gripped his shoulders. Nails dug into his skin. "Acting like a sex god in your profile, but in real life, you're a limp noodle?"
Profile? What fucking profile?!
Rusty yanked at the restraints, wrists burning against the leather straps. No use. He was locked down like some cheap dominatrix prop.
"This has to be a mistake," he muttered.
"Speak up!" she barked. "I want to hear that sorry excuse again."
"I didn't sign up for this!" He squirmed under her weight. "I—I was supposed to be doing something else!"
She rolled her eyes. "They always say that. 'I don't usually do this. I'm not a gigolo.' Then why the fuck were you on the site?"
Milfy... I swear I'll kill you. He shut his eyes for a second.
Is this part of the beast mission? he muttered inside his head. What beast am I taming here—her boobs?
Milfy didn't answer.
'Great. Radio silence now?' He growled under his breath. 'Figures.'
The woman ground her hips against his, testing for any sign of life down there.
Nothing.
Her gaze darkened. "So you're really broken. Tsk. I should've gone with that blond guy. He was charging two-fifty."
"I'm not a goddamn product," Rusty bit out.
She leaned closer, face inches from his. "You are when I pay a thousand dollars for you." Her breath smelled like mint and trouble.
He turned his head away. "You're insane."
"No, baby. I'm pissed." She climbed off him, stalked to the corner, and came back with something in hand.
A belt.
Rusty flinched. "Hey, hey—wait, wait! Violence isn't the answer!"
She raised it.
"Let me explain!" He tugged uselessly against the restraints. "There's a system! A real one! I got teleported here! My dick's locked by a freaking AI!"
The belt snapped down beside his head.
She froze. "You... got teleported?"
He nodded rapidly. "Yes! I swear. I'm not even from this world!"
A long pause.
Then she snorted. "That's the worst excuse I've ever heard."
"No, listen, there's a voice in my head! His name is Milfy!"
The belt fell from her hand.
"You think I'll believe you?"
The belt slashed across Rusty's chest.
He flinched hard, pain lancing through his ribs as he twisted against the restraints.
"You've been working as a gigolo for three years—that's what your profile says." She raised the belt again. "Or are you just insane?"
"I'm telling the truth!" he gasped. "I've never even seen that site before today!"
She scoffed. "You had ratings, reviews, tags—favorites. That shit doesn't appear overnight."
Rusty winced, the sting across his chest still burning.
"Temporary identity patch," Milfy's voice hummed in his head, annoyingly calm. "Needed to blend you into this world's ecosystem. Your dick was the most viable asset."
'You gave me a fucking escort profile?!'
'Technically, a premium one. You're welcome.'
Rusty jerked at the cuffs. "Untie me and I'll prove it."
She laughed. "Yeah? What are you gonna prove? That you're limp and a liar?"
"I'm not lying!" he snapped. "I didn't choose this! I got teleported here, system-bonded against my will, and now I'm tied to a bed by a lunatic who thinks I'm her damn refund!"
Her gaze narrowed. She stepped closer, the belt coiling in her hand. "Say lunatic again."
He shut his mouth.
Smart move.
She leaned down, inches from his face. Her breasts brushed his chest, warm and heavy. Her breath ghosted across his cheek. "You've got one last chance, pretty boy. Either your cock wakes up, or I break it off."
Rusty swallowed. I'm going to die. I'm going to die with a soft dick and a crazy woman choking me out with a belt.
'Milfy, override the damn restriction!'
'Timer is still active,' the system chimed. 'Twenty-one hours left. No exceptions.'
He clenched his jaw. 'You screwed me.'
'No, I didn't. I gave you the identity of a premium man who can fuck any woman and get paid—such a dream.' Milfy stated. 'Isn't this what you wanted?'