Complication

Sam’s body wasn’t his own anymore.

Every movement, every breath, every humiliating stroke—all dictated by the GAME, by the crowd, by the two women standing across from him. His fingers worked in a slow, agonizing rhythm, his arousal pill making sure he never softened, never got a break, never escaped.

The Jenga tower loomed between him and Alex, its structure trembling as it waited for its next victim. Alex stood across from him, her white dress nothing but an afterthought, still bunched at her waist, her breasts bare, her legs pressing together just a little too tightly. The vibrator was getting to her.

And then there was Rachel.

His eyes found her past the throng of bodies, standing there completely exposed, nothing left but sheer confidence. Her gaze met his—steady, unwavering, fierce.

You’ve got this, her eyes told him.

The chaos around him faded for just a second. Sam clenched his jaw, exhaling through his nose.

He could do this.

Then—Alex spotted Rachel.

"Well, well," she purred, voice smooth as silk. "If it isn’t Sam’s biggest cheerleader."

Rachel stepped forward, weaving through the onlookers until she stood beside Sam, opposite Alex. Her lips curled, but her gaze was sharp, calculating, intrigued.

"Alex," Rachel said simply, tasting the name for the first time.

"Rachel," Alex returned, tilting her head.

The way they studied each other sent something hot down Sam’s spine. There was respect in their postures, a mutual understanding, an acknowledgment that neither of them was the type to back down.

But beneath it? Possession.

Rachel's glance at Sam was subtle, claiming. Alex's smirk, the way she dragged her fingers along the table's edge, taunting, territorial.

"You really think he’s going to win?" Alex asked, tilting her head toward Sam.

"Of course," Rachel said smoothly. "He can handle a few more."

Alex laughed outright, eyes flicking to Sam’s ****, twitching hand.

"Oh honey," she cooed, "he’s likely to pop in the middle of picking one out and bring this whole thing down with him."

Rachel was about to retort when Alex stiffened, fingers gripping the table’s edge. A soft, barely contained hitch in her breath.

Rachel’s smile was wicked.

"Something wrong, Red?" she murmured, voice dripping with amusement.

Alex exhaled slowly, schooling her features. "Not at all."

Rachel's grin widened. "Want to bet on that?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "On what exactly?"

Rachel turned to Sam, looking him over like he was the prize at the end of this game. "I bet he can pull three out in a row."

Alex snorted. "No chance."

"Afraid?" Rachel teased.

"Not at all. Just don’t like making stupid bets."

"Then name the stakes."

They haggled, circling each other like wolves debating which would sink their teeth in first. The bet settled—whoever lost would select a major forfeit for the other from the GAME system’s "****" category.

"If you lose, by the way," Alex added, smirking, "so does Sam. And he has to do his forfeit just—"

Rachel froze.

A chime from her GAME device echoed through the air.

You have heard the word "forfeit." Remove one article of clothing within the next 30 seconds or it will be randomly selected for you.

Rachel kept her expression neutral—but Sam saw it. The subtle tension in her shoulders. The heat rising in her face.

She didn't move.

The timer ticked down.

5… 4… 3… 2…

And then—

Her stockings vanished.

One second they were there, hugging her thighs—the next, gone.

Rachel stood there completely bare, not even pretending to cover up. But her cheeks? Flushed deep red.

Alex grinned like the devil herself. "Oh, I like you."

Rachel’s smile was tight, controlled. She lifted her chin slightly, pretending not to care, but burning under the scrutiny of the crowd.

"Back to the bet," Rachel said, her voice steady. "Sam pulls three blocks. If he does, I win. If not, you win. And we pick a punishment from the system."

Alex sighed dramatically, pretending to consider. "Mmm, I don't know… I have such a big advantage. Seems unfair."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Meaning?"

Alex took a slow step toward Sam, dropping down to her knees in front of him.

His breath hitched.

Her warm breath ghosted over his cock, lips hovering just a fraction away.

"Meaning…" Alex murmured, voice sultry, "maybe I take over for him."

Sam’s entire body locked up.

The crowd lost its mind.

Rachel cocked her head, watching.

Alex looked up at her through thick lashes, clearly pushing for a reaction. "After all," she added, "his cock already likes my mouth."

Rachel’s smile was slow, predatory, impossible to read. "Alright. But," she said, "I get control of the vibe."

Alex sighed, but nodded.

Then—she turned to Sam, holding his gaze, her expression unreadable.

"I assume you're okay with this?" she asked, voice soft, dangerous.

Sam’s chest tightened.

A chime from his GAME device.

Obedience Required.

His stomach dropped.

His lips parted—not to answer, but because he had **** but to comply.

"Yes," he said, voice weak, broken, utterly defeated.

Alex grinned, nails lightly scratching at his hips.

And just like that—

The GAME had him again.