Jessika

You look at Ashley’s eyes, fixed on the only entrance that remains unlocked. You catch her gaze, and then you hear the female executive’s voice cut through the air, cold and absolute: "Strip, slave."

For a moment, you thought you were in charge, but the command leaves no room for debate. You strip off everything, standing completely exposed and vulnerable just as Ashley is. The room feels icy as you stand directly under one of the vents, the cold air hitting your bare skin. The atmosphere is heavy, charged with the sweet, synthetic scent of the aphrodisiac both women have confessed is surging through them. Standing there naked, you feel the weight of their combined gaze—one calculated and possessive, the other raw and predatory.

The sound of the lock clicking into place echoes through the room—a sharp, final punctuation to the entrance of Jessika, the youngest cheerleader on the Dallas Cowboy squad. She leans her back against the door, her crimson hair damp and wild against the wood, a predatory smirk playing on her lips. "There," she breathes, the heavy aroma making her voice skip with a jagged energy. "No more uninvited guests. From here on out, we aren't to be disturbed."

She pushes off the door, her 5'9" frame moving with the fluid power of a professional athlete. Her wet white t-shirt, tied high to reveal her flat navel and shimmering diamond piercing, clings to her skin as she closes the distance. She doesn't care that you lack a sculpted athlete's build; she seems to prefer the "older man" gravity you possess.

"So, you actually came through on our deal for an older man, Ashley. Now my second request," Jessika purrs, her hand seizing control of your assets. She glances at Ashley before turning her predatory heat back to you. "Seems I need to put you on a training regime, rookie," the redhead says with a smirk. "I want to tell Madison—that bitch—that I stole you."

"He will do perfectly," she murmurs, her thumb tracing a slow, agonizing circle. "I don't know if it's the chemicals—oh, by the way, Ashley, your personal water was laced—but I'm ready to start."

Ashley looks at you intensely, her eyes dark. "I suspected it," she says, stepping into the circle. "I was always planning to blackmail him, but now I want him real bad. I’ve only had fun with gigolos lately, but this is different. The last lover I actually wanted was in high school. But I want him to be my toy."

The cold air from the vents is nothing compared to the chill of Ashley’s gaze as she claims her half of the project, placing a firm hand on Jessika’s shoulder to assert her dominance. "I don't care if replacing Madison hurts her. She was getting too soft, wanting to play house and meet my family. That’s not what we’re here for." She turns her focus to you, her palm flat against your chest. "First lesson, rookie: you don't look at her without looking at me first. You're our joint project now, and the conditioning is just beginning."