Task Progression

You take a deep breath, adjusting your treacherous shirt button again as you consider how to explain this situation to David without getting into mortifying specifics.

"The tasks are... getting more explicit each day," you admit, your Irish lilt becoming more pronounced as your discomfort grows. "They started innocently enough—selfies, trying on clothes—but now they're pushing boundaries. Sexual boundaries."

David's expression shifts, a complex mixture of concern and something darker, more primal. "What kind of sexual boundaries?"

"It's divided into four categories." You look down at your Thai food, suddenly finding the noodles fascinating. "Tease, Tempt, Touch, and Taste. Each one gets progressively more... intimate."

"And that's what you did with Clara last night?" David asks, his voice carefully neutral though his knuckles whiten around his water glass. "Completing tasks?"

"It started that way," you say honestly. "But then it became something else."

The third button on your shirt chooses this moment to pop open again, more aggressively this time. The fabric parts to reveal the inner curves of your enhanced breasts, the lace of your bra barely containing them. David's eyes drop instantly, lingering for several seconds before he forces his gaze back to your face.

"DAMN! Sorry," you mutter, fumbling with the button again. Is it your imagination, or is the shirt becoming more transparent where your body heat warms it?

"Don't apologize," David says, voice rough. "It's not your fault"

He sets down his food and moves to sit beside you on the couch, close enough that you can smell his cologne. "I want to help you get back to normal, if that's what you want. But I need to understand what we're dealing with."

You nod, painfully aware of how your enhanced curves shift with every movement. "The tasks today were... well, I had to take a sexy mirror selfie in Clara's bathroom. Send provocative photos wearing your shirt—"

"My shirt?" David interrupts, eyes widening. "When did you—"

"Clara had it," you explain quickly. "Apparently you left it at her place once."

A flash of confusion crosses David's face. "I've never—" He stops himself. "Never mind. Go on."

"I also had to... perform a lap dance," you continue, feeling your cheeks burn. "And the last one involved whipped cream and... well, you get the idea."

David swallows hard, his pupils dilating slightly. "And these tasks are getting more explicit each day?"

"Yes," you confirm. "I'm worried about what's coming next."

He's quiet for a moment, processing. Then: "What happens if you don't do them?"

"I have to spin this wheel thing," you explain. "It permanently changes something about my body. That's how I got... these." You gesture vaguely toward your enhanced curves.

David's eyes follow the motion, lingering on your exaggerated hourglass figure. "I see," he says, voice tight. "And you need a hundred points to change back?"

"That's what the app says." You tug at your skirt, which seems determined to ride up your thighs with every slight movement.

"Four tasks a day at roughly ten points per day..." David calculates. "So about ten days total?"

"If I keep completing everything, yes."

He nods slowly, eyes dark and thoughtful. "Ten days. We can handle that."

The way he says "we" sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. The room suddenly feels warmer, the air between you charged with unspoken tension.

"Are you seeing Clara again tonight?" he asks casually, though there's nothing casual about the intensity of his gaze.

15:20 | Sunday 3 August 2025 | Living room, Putney flat

All daily tasks completed!

Return Points: 25/100

Babe Bucks: 10