Tom sat at the small table by the window, plate in front of him, eating the first meal in a month that had actually been made for him.
It wasn’t much - just a round table and one chair shoved into the corner of a room that clearly hadn’t been furnished with a live-in husband in mind - but it was more dignity than the bed would have given him, and today, for once, he wanted to eat like a man instead of someone hiding from the house that owned him.
And the food was good. Better than good - seasoned exactly the way he liked, still warm nothing like the cold, soggy pasta the housekeeper had kept, and Tom found himself chewing slower than he needed to just to make it last.
But as he chewed, he had one thing on his mind;
"What am I even going to say to her," he thought, already rehearsing lines in his head for when the chef came back.
[You Don’t Need To Think That Hard, Host. Just Enjoy Your Food.] The system chimed.
Tom huffed and kept eating.
Then, a knock landed against the door, sharp, two raps, and Tom’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth. It wasn’t the chef’s knock - he didn’t know how he already knew that, but something about the rhythm was wrong, too clipped, too impatient to be someone bringing good news.
He set the fork down slow, wiped his hand against his jeans, and called out for whoever it was to come in, bracing without knowing exactly what for.
He looked up, one part of him still expecting it to be the chef, already halfway to a smile, but he froze when it was Davina who stepped in instead.
His stomach dropped straight through the floor.
"She’s going to blast me for this morning." He thought and looked away fast.
But Davina didn’t say a word about it. If anything she looked more unsettled than angry, like she still hadn’t fully convinced herself the whole thing had happened, and she’d wrapped that unease right back up in her usual disdain rather than deal with it.
"I forgot your injection this morning," she said, clipped, professional, already reaching into her bag without quite meeting his eyes. "I’m here to finish it properly."
She had barely finished the words when the system dinged:
[MISSION: NAUGHTY DOCTOR.]
[OBJECTIVE: Hold Davina’s Gaze. Tell Her She’s A Naughty Slut Who Needs To Be Spanked So Hard Her Ass Turns Red.]
[REWARD: +5 Recovery. +5 Heart Points. $500.]
Tom pressed his lips together, his hands staying uselessly by his sides, his heart already picking up speed. He thought about hesitating, thought about the doorman’s routine of swallowing everything and staying quiet - and then he thought about her face this morning, dismissive, disdainful, treating a man with a cracked skull like an inconvenience on her schedule.
If she could talk to him like he was nothing, he could talk back the same way.
He turned fully on the chair to face Davina’s direction.
"Davina."
She looked up, startled by the sound of her own name in his mouth, syringe still in hand. "What?"
"I have something to tell you." His voice came out steadier than he expected.
"Then say it," she said, unbothered, still not turning away from her bag.
"Look at me first."
That got her attention. She turned, brow arching, like she couldn’t quite believe he had said it with that much certainty, but she looked anyway.
Tom held her gaze and let the words out before he could second-guess them.
"You’re a naughty slut who needs to be spanked so hard your ass turns red."
Davina’s mouth fell open. For a second she just stared, and Tom watched something flicker across her face that wasn’t outrage at all - something closer to shock that had nowhere to land.
"What did you just say to me?"
[MISSION COMPLETE.]
[REWARD DEPOSITED.]
The words landed cool and satisfied in his skull, and something in Tom loosened at the confirmation, at the proof this was working. He repeated himself, steadier the second time.
"You’re a naughty slut who needs to be spanked so hard your ass turns red."
Davina’s knees buckled, just slightly, a small unsteady sway she caught by gripping the edge of the nightstand. Tom blinked, confused by his own effect on her.
"What is wrong with me," Davina thought, furious at her own body for the heat already pooling low in her stomach, for the way her pulse had kicked up hard at four stupid words from a man she’d walked in ready to dismiss without a second glance.
She wasn’t supposed to feel anything from this. She was a married woman, a doctor, someone with standards, and Tom Harlow was a broke bartender who lived off his wife’s charity - beneath her in every way that should have mattered.
Even her own body should have known that, should have recognized the difference in their stations the way the rest of her did. It didn’t seem to care. Her knees had gone weak over one filthy sentence from a man who wasn’t remotely in her caliber, and she hated that she wanted to hear it again.
[She’s A Masochist, Host. Her Husband Isn’t Dominant Enough To Give Her What She Needs. You Just Said The One Thing She’s Been Starving For.] The system informed Tom.
"Well, I’m not dominant too," Tom thought back, half-panicked.
[Just not yet. ]
[NEXT MISSION: Tell Davina To Be The Good Slut She Is. Have Her Get On Her Knees And Open Her Mouth Wide For Daddy.]
[REWARD: +5 Recovery. +5 Heart Points. $500.]
Tom’s throat went dry. But Davina was still standing there, still flushed, still waiting on something she hadn’t put a name to yet, and he made himself say it before the nerve left him.
"Be a good slut and get on your knees. Open that mouth wide for daddy."
Davina swallowed hard, visibly, her whole throat working.
"I shouldn’t be doing this," she thought, even as her body was already moving, already betraying every ounce of self-respect she thought she had. She didn’t argue. She didn’t even hesitate long enough to pretend she wanted to. Her knees hit the floor before Tom, and she looked up at him from below, mouth already parting, hating how badly she wanted whatever came next.
[What Are You Waiting For, Host?]
[Give her what she’s waiting for.]
"What is she waiting for?" Tom thought, dazed.
[YOUR COCK. OBVIOUSLY.] The system practically yelled.
Tom’s face burned hot. As Davina knelt in front of him, her blouse was gaping loose at the collar from the angle, giving him a clear line down to the curve of her breasts, and his mouth went dry watching her wait there, patient, wanting.
[NEXT MISSION: Put Your Cock In Her Mouth. Tell Her To Suck It Like The Dirty, Cock-deprived Slut She Is.]
[REWARD: +5 Recovery. +5 Heart Points. $500.]
"Close your eyes," Tom quickly said, voice shaking despite himself. He couldn’t bring out his cock while she was widely looking at him like that. He was insecure about his size.
Then, quieter, testing the word, he added; "close your eyes for daddy." Then he pushed his butt forward on the chair and unzipped his trouser.
Davina obeyed instantly, her lashes fluttering shut, lips already parted and waiting.
His hands trembled as he freed himself, half-hard already just from the sight of her kneeling there for him, and he had to force the next words out before his nerve gave.
"Suck it like the dirty, cock-deprived slut you are."
Davina didn’t hesitate. She crawled further to get close to him. Her mouth closed around his cock immediately, and Tom’s eyes went wide, breath punched clean out of his chest.
This was his first time. Ever. And it was happening with a woman who wouldn’t have looked at him twice this morning, who’d called him beneath her without a second thought, now on her knees taking him like she’d been aching for exactly this.
His cock filled out fast against her tongue, thick and heavy and throbbing, and Davina moaned around him like she meant it, working him with a skill that told him this wasn’t her first time doing exactly this.
Tom’s head fell back. A moan tore out of him before he could catch it, loud, helpless, lost completely in the drag of her mouth, in the wet heat of her, in every sensation he’d been starved of for a month straight.
He didn’t hear the door until;
"What the fuck is going on here?"
Sienna’s voice cracked through the room like a gunshot.