Rusty just wanted to punch Milfy after hearing his words.
Okay, he did agree he wanted women—but that didn't mean he literally became a gigolo?
'How'd you even give me this identity? What happened to the real guy?' Discomfort stirred in his gut.
'He's safe, asleep inside the system. Once you complete the mission, he'll return to his timeline. No matter how many days you take, it'll reset for him.'
"You answer me."
Before Rusty could snap back at Milfy, another lash struck his nipple. His nose crunched on instinct as the woman shrieked like she was about to rip his ears off.
What the hell was wrong with her? Gorgeous as hell—and she had to buy a gigolo? Shameful.
"Hear me, woman. Stop hitting me. You're insane. Who the hell gets hard for someone acting like this?" Rusty spat, knowing damn well he was lying.
She was too beautiful. If his dick wasn't in a ban, he would've lost his virginity right then and there.
And he wouldn't even hesitate.
She threw the belt aside and grabbed his collar instead, yanking him so close he could feel her breath. Sweet, like berries—and just as sharp with rage.
Rusty hadn't even noticed the collar until now. It felt no different than a damn leash—like a dog, trapped and cuffed.
"You're mine for the night. Understand that?"
Her grip burned hotter than her glare.
Rusty gritted his teeth. "I ain't a toy you get to break."
She smiled. Not sweet. Not soft. It was the kind of smile that promised pain.
"Yet you moaned."
His throat twitched.
'That wasn't a moan. That was pain.' He wanted to scream it, shove it in her face—but her fingers were already trailing down his chest, slow and possessive, like she was memorizing every ridge.
"You're lying to yourself," she whispered.
Rusty jerked back, the handcuffs clinking against the headboard. "Wait—listen—I have an idea. What if you give me a little time? I'll come back tomorrow, do whatever you want."
The woman scoffed. "You think I'm an idiot?"
She breathed hard, eyes blazing.
"We're both naked, you already took the money, and agreed to all the conditions—and now you've got the balls to back out?"
"I'll return the money!" Panic crept into his voice before he could stop it. This woman's a freak—a full-blown psycho.
Her eyes lit up like she'd just won the damn lottery. "Give it back, then."
Rusty's breath caught.
He didn't have the money. Hell, he didn't even know where it was—the original gigolo must've taken it before Milfy tossed him into this mess.
'Milfy, help me.'
'I don't have the money.'
'You're a system. A freaking SSS-grade system. How the hell are you this useless?'
'I'm not a bank,' Milfy replied. 'Be grateful I even gave you a premium identity. Now suffer like a man.'
Rusty swallowed hard.
"I… I just need time to get it," he muttered.
The woman leaned in, her fingers tracing the chain of his collar like she owned him.
"Time?" Her lips brushed his ear. "You had time the moment you walked through that door. Now I want results."
Her hand slid down his stomach again.
Rusty tensed, every nerve on fire. "You're not listening—I'm not ready for this."
"Oh? Then get ready." Her nails scraped down his abdomen.
He clenched his fists.
She climbed onto the bed, straddling him with the dominance of a lioness stalking her prey.
"You promised," she whispered, voice like velvet over blades. "And I paid."
Rusty's throat dried. The air between them felt too thick to breathe.
'Milfy. Do something. Anything.'
'Enjoy the experience.'
He bit the inside of his cheek.
If he ever got out of this alive, he'd shove Milfy into a virtual trash can and set it on fire.
"I'm not even hard. How the hell are you planning to do it? I can't get hard."
A slap cracked across his face. His already-bruised cheek split, blood trickling from the fresh cut.
"For what fucking reason did you take my money then?" she snarled. "Do you know what it cost me, you prick? I swear, I'll bite your dick clean off."
She dropped to her knees between his thighs.
Lowered herself.
Her breath fanned over his balls—over his limp, helpless dick.
Just that… just that was enough to send a jolt down his spine. The sensation was too real, too intense. And the position—he'd only seen it in the porn he used to edit.
But now?
Now he was living it.
And not in a dream—but on the edge of losing his manhood.
First cancer, now this?
My dick must've sinned in a past life. "Please—don't!"
She smirked like a predator sniffing weakness. "You should've thought of that before agreeing."
Her tongue flicked out—slow, deliberate—brushing the side of his shaft.
Rusty flinched.
Not because it felt good. Hell no.
Because it felt real.
And that was the problem.
He wanted to get hard. He wanted to fuck this woman—but somehow, it didn't feel like he'd be doing the fucking.
No.
It'd be the other way around.
She was pure mommy-material—dangerous, dominant, and terrifyingly hot. He didn't even know if he had kinks like that… but now?
Now it was hitting way too hard.
His brain had to be melting. That was the only reason these thoughts made any sense while he was two seconds away from losing his dick to a bite.
"I would've fucked you—if I could. But I can't get hard until tomorrow, I swear," Rusty blurted out, desperate.
Her lips landed on his right ball.
Oxygen vanished from his lungs.
His body seized, mouth gaping as he gasped.
"You want out of here?" she whispered.
He nodded frantically, still trying to breathe.
"Then the only way out…" Her fingers tightened on his thigh. "…is after I make you a eunuch."
"Will you get your money's worth doing it? Then do it," Rusty shouted. It was the only card he had left—because either way, he was losing his dick today if this kept going.
"Maybe," she murmured. "I know what you need to get hard."
"No! Don't—"