The Reveal

My eye throbbed.

It was Monday evening.

I stared at my phone screen, the glass illuminating my dark bedroom.

Eight new actions had unlocked for Jennifer after filling two of her hearts.

The app demanded I swap out old actions to make room for the new ones.

I scrolled through the list of potential choices, each one more extreme than the last.

---

Refer to User as "Master" in private thoughts (+8 OBEDIENCE, +5 LOVE, +5 STRESS) / M D E

Leave apartment door unlocked for User (+13 OBEDIENCE, +20 STRESS) / N

Wear no panties to workplace and masturbate when no one is looking (+18 CORRUPTION, +12 STRESS) / D

Write a toxic, shamelessly erotic love story about User (+15 LOVE, +5 CORRUPTION, +10 STRESS) / E N

Wear vibrating panties controlled by a random app timer (+20 CORRUPTION, +15 STRESS) / D E

Practice confessing romantic feelings to a mirror (+12 LOVE, +5 STRESS) / M E

Take a naked selfie in a public restroom (+18 CORRUPTION, +10 STRESS) / W-D W-E

Edge for three hours thinking only of User's face (+10 LOVE, +10 OBEDIENCE, +10 STRESS) / D E N

---

I read through them, feeling a mix of dark arousal and genuine apprehension.

Fuck. I really wanted those naked selfies.

But she didn’t even know my number. So… she would just store those, I guess.

And did I want her unlocking her door? Any fucking creep could waltz right in.

I stared at the glowing list, feeling completely paralyzed.

I still hadn't picked which ones to keep.

Jennifer even had a new corruption-outfit unlocked, that I was afraid to click.

In fact, I hadn't even gone to Sunday's Obedience 3 event.

I skipped it entirely.

I was too furious about the app's secret “bonus event”.

That stupid Love 2 heart completing had completely derailed my plans.

It shocked me so deeply that I had just cleared Jennifer's entire schedule.

Every single block of her week was now grey and empty.

I even hovered my thumb over the "Delete Profile" button for ten agonizing minutes.

…

I still couldn't press it.

Not quite yet.

But I couldn’t go on like this.

I couldn't just lead her on.

She was incredibly sexy, and fucking her in that bathroom was the greatest thrill of my life.

But making her genuinely fall in love with me felt like crossing a moral event horizon.

I didn't want her heart.

Like a mantra, I needed to repeat it to myself.

My heart belonged only to Sandy.

The fact that the app decided to surprise me with that romantic milestone pissed me off.

I… I couldn’t have two women loving me. The responsibility for that felt way too selfish.

The only question I needed to ask myself was this: Did I love Jennifer more than Sandy?

And the answer was a resounding “No”.

I tossed the phone onto my mattress with a heavy sigh.

I touched my bruised cheek, wincing as a sharp sting radiated across my jaw.

My face was healing, but Damian's punch had left a lingering, annoying ache.

But my physical pain was nothing compared to the knot in my stomach.

I wasn’t really thinking about Jennifer right now.

My mind was occupied by Sandy.

Or… the lack of Sandy.

There hadn't been a single peep from her since Comic-Con.

Since that desperate, messy kiss on the concrete stairwell.

Since I secured her first love-heart.

Silence.

Total, agonizing silence.

I had even sent her a casual text yesterday, asking if everything was cool.

"Just checking in. Wanna talk?"

Read at 4:12 PM.

No reply.

The ghosting was driving me absolutely insane.

I paced my tiny apartment, getting more anxious by the minute.

Was the app glitching?

Did the Love-heart malfunction and push her away entirely?

Enough was enough.

I couldn't just sit here and wait for a notification.

I grabbed my keys.

I was going to her house. Physically.

---

The walk to her apartment complex felt like a death march.

Every step amplified the nervous hammering in my chest.

I climbed the stairs to the second floor, my palms sweating.

I knocked on her door, the sound echoing too loudly in the quiet hallway.

I waited, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

I was just about to knock again when I heard the deadbolt click.

The door slowly creaked open.

Sandy stood in the doorway, and my heart instantly shattered.

She looked terribly depressed.

Her normally bright blonde hair was a greasy, tangled mess.

She was wearing oversized sweatpants and a baggy hoodie that swallowed her frame.

But it was her eyes that terrified me.

They were bloodshot, puffy, and completely cried-out.

But before I had time to truly process her disheveled look, her eyes locked onto mine and went wide with sudden shock.

"Oh my god, Ron," she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "What happened to your face?"

I instinctively reached up to touch my swollen, purple eyelid, the skin still hot and tender to the touch.

"Oh, this?" I mumbled, trying to wave it off like it was nothing. "It looks worse than it is."

"I had a stupid argument with my coffee table in the dark," I lied smoothly, the excuse slipping out of my mouth before I could overthink it. No way I was telling her about fucking Jennifer in a club bathroom before her ex punched my lights out.

"Tripped over a loose VR cable, took a total dive, and caught the sharp metal edge of the frame right on the cheekbone."

Sandy stared at me, her bloodshot eyes filled with a mix of horror and pity. "Jesus, Ron, you look like you got ran over by a truck," she whispered, her voice cracking.

But she was too exhausted, too deeply buried under her own heavy mountain of misery, to press me for any real details.

She just let out a shaky sigh, the brief distraction of my battered face fading away as the heavy, dark gloom re-settled over her.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, her shoulders slumping as she backed into the apartment. "I'm such a mess, and here you are hurt, and I... I don't even know what I'm doing anymore."

A cold wave of dread washed over my entire body.

Oh God… what had the app done to her?

Did I fry her brain by forcing artificial love into her programming?

"Sandy... what's wrong?" I asked, stepping forward instinctively.

She shrank back slightly, wrapping her arms around her own torso.

"I didn't want you to see me like this," she mumbled, staring at the floor.

"Are you… okay? You look like you haven't slept in days."

"Well… I haven’t. Not really," she admitted, a fresh tear leaking from the corner of her eye.

I felt like an absolute monster.

Fuck this fucking app.

Me and my goddamn greed.

"Please, tell me what's going on," I pleaded gently. "You can tell me anything."

She sniffled, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her oversized hoodie.

"Can I come in?" I asked softly.

She hesitated, then stepped aside, leaving the door open for me.

Her apartment, usually a pristine shrine to nerd culture, was a total disaster area.

Empty takeout boxes and balled-up tissues littered the coffee table.

She sat down heavily on the edge of her sofa.

I sat next to her, leaving a respectful cushion of space between us.

"Sandy, talk to me," I urged, my voice thick with guilt. "Why are you crying?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath, her hands trembling in her lap.

"It's about... it's about what happened between us," she whispered.

My stomach dropped.

"The kiss," I said, stating the obvious.

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut as more tears spilled down her flushed cheeks.

"I've been agonizing over this for days," she sobbed.

"…Why?" I asked, scared to hear the answer.

She looked up at me with absolute misery.

"I led you on, Ron. I made you think I wanted that."

"But you kissed me back," I pointed out, clinging to the memory of the event.

"I know!" she wailed, burying her face in her hands.

"That's why I feel so awful! I panicked in the moment and just... reacted."

I didn't understand.

Wait, the app said something about how she was conflicted by her intense attraction.

…Maybe it was too intense?

"Sandy, um, it’s okay, we can take things more slowly and-,"

“No, it’s not about that!” she dropped her hands, looking at me with a startling clarity through her tears.

She took another deep breath, bracing herself.

"Ron, I'm a lesbian."

The words hit me like a physical blow to the chest.

"What?" I stammered, my brain completely short-circuiting.

"I like women, Ron. Only women."

She looked at me with deep, apologetic sorrow.

"I've known for a long time, but I've been too scared to tell anyone in the guild."

"But... the kiss," I repeated dumbly, my reality fracturing.

"Yes, and I’m sorry! I was so overwhelmed by the crowd, the suit, everything," she explained, crying harder.

"When you leaned in, I just froze and mirrored you. And I mean, maybe the moment felt right but… it was wrong. So wrong. That's why I ran away," she choked out. "I felt sick about giving you false hope."

I sat there, utterly paralyzed.

So… that was the reason.

The app was forcing her to feel things that violently contradicted her fundamental sexuality.

She didn’t know how to handle it, and broke down completely.

I was stunlocked.

Even with the magical app… The world was still laughing at my face.

---

My Subscribestar page:

https://subscribestar.art/drek

My goal is to make writing these stories my actual career, and every single contribution brings me one step closer to doing this full-time. If you've enjoyed my work, I'd love your support!

Here's what I'm offering across three tiers:

Tier One – Read three chapters ahead in all ongoing stories! That's three chapters ahead in Submission Accelerator, My Idle Harem, and The Sweetest Corruption!

Tier Two – Read six chapters ahead in Submission Accelerator and My Idle Harem! You'll read the latest chapter the moment it drops. You'll also get voting privileges on story directions—choosing traits, deciding which heart Ron pursues next, and more.

Tier Three – Everything above, plus access to exclusive short stories. This includes all stories from my previous Patreon run—the Victory Suite Tales 1-7—now revised and updated with AI-generated artwork. Even if you've read them before, I promise that the experience feels fresh. And yes, Tale 7 is finally actually complete! I plan to write a new short story every month exclusively for this tier that you guys get to choose with a poll.

And now we have a new short story available! "The Cop Collector"! Nearly 10k words, and 13 pictures. Here's a sample for you:

So I'm hoping I'll see you there!