Pretend to be confused about the controls so you can lean in close to Marcus, testing how well the MARCUS MANAGEMENT upgrade is working

You lean forward in the driver's seat of the Range Rover, your enhanced D-cups pressing against the steering wheel as you flutter your eyelashes at Marcus. "I totally don't understand these buttons," you pout, pointing vaguely at the dashboard. "Like, what does this one do?"

Marcus stands awkwardly in the open driver's door, his professional demeanor wavering as he leans in to explain. "That's the climate control, Miss Ashley. It regulates the temperature inside the vehicle."

"Ohhh," you giggle, twirling a pigtail around your finger. "And this one with the little wavy lines?"

"That's the seat warmer," he explains patiently.

From the backseat comes an exaggerated moan followed by the rustle of fabric. "Marcus," Becky calls, her voice dripping with demand, "I'm getting lonely back here. Ashley's hogging all your attention."

You watch Marcus's reaction in the rearview mirror. His eyes flick briefly to Becky, who has completely unbuttoned her crop top to reveal her bare breasts. His jaw tightens, but he quickly returns his gaze to the dashboard.

"And what about this button?" you ask, deliberately pointing to something far across the dash so Marcus has to lean closer, his face now inches from yours.

"The navigation system, Miss Ashley," he says, his voice remaining steady despite Becky's increasingly aggressive sighs and moans from the backseat.

"Marcus," Becky whines again, louder this time. "I need help with something important back here."

You twist in your seat to see Becky now sprawled across the leather upholstery, her miniskirt hiked up around her waist, one hand between her thighs. "It's an emergency," she adds with a dramatic pout.

Marcus's breathing changes—just slightly—but he doesn't turn around. "Miss Rebecca, I'm in the middle of explaining the vehicle controls to your sister."

"But I'm so hot," Becky complains, arching her back. "And you promised to teach me about the backseat, remember?"

You giggle, enjoying the test. "Marcus, maybe you should help her first? I can wait."

Marcus straightens, his professional mask firmly in place. "Miss Ashley, perhaps we should continue this lesson another time when there are fewer... distractions."

"But I neeeeeed you now," Becky moans, sliding a finger inside herself with deliberate showiness. "Please, Marcus. Just five minutes. Ashley doesn't mind, do you Ash?"

You shake your head, pigtails bouncing. "Not at all! I'll just practice with these buttons while you help Becky."

Marcus looks genuinely torn, the MARCUS MANAGEMENT upgrade clearly fighting against his professional instincts. Finally, he clears his throat. "Miss Ashley, I believe I should complete your lesson first, as Mr. Bellingham would expect. Then I can... assist Miss Rebecca with her concerns."

Becky lets out an exaggerated groan of frustration, flopping back against the seat. "But I'm dying here!"

"Five more minutes, Miss Rebecca," Marcus says firmly, turning back to you with renewed focus. "Now, Miss Ashley, the button beside the steering wheel controls the wipers."

You notice a sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the garage's cool temperature. The upgrade is working—he's prioritizing Rick's girlfriend over Rick's daughter, placing professional duty above personal desire—but it's clearly taking all his self-control.

12:30 | Tuesday 5 Aug 2025 | Underground Garage, London

[QUEEN BEE] | [Medium] | [Friday 20:00] | [3 days, 7 hours, 30 minutes remaining]

[DRIVER'S ED] | [Medium] | [None] | [In progress]