Liam stared at the options.
The alcohol had killed his usual anxiety. He didn't care anymore, the only thing on his mind was making Tasha pay. The system gave him that edge, and he was planning on using every single advantage of it.
Liam's voice was stripped of its usual uncertainty as he looked at her with cold focus. "You wanted to punish me, right? There you go. Now get ready for yours."
"What do you mean?... By ready for—"
Tasha's protest was cut short.
Before she could finish, Liam's hand shot out and delivered a sharp smack the right cheek of her huge ass.
The smack was loud enough to cut through the noise of the kitchen. Tasha's short skirt rode up slightly with the impact, and Liam's palm connected with her ass.
"Uhp!"
Tasha gasped, a small, involuntary that caught in her throat.
The sharp impact made her body jump, freezing her indignant expression. Then, before she could process it, Liam's fingers dug in. He grabbed a handful of her ass, his thumb pressing into where her thigh met her rear, making her squint a little from it.
The sensation was foreign.
She was shocked by the audacity, the sheer disrespect of it, but heat followed immediately after.
Tasha's wide green eyes locked on him. She was shocked and, terrifyingly, pleased.
A new feeling, something she never expected from being handled like this, especially by a guy she'd written off as weak, ran through her.
She tried to gather herself, to find the cutting retort that always saved her, but before she could, she saw the conviction in Liam's face.
The intoxication was there, yes, but something hard and real cut through it. For the first time in her life, she stayed silent. For the first time, she had no idea how to twist things in her favor. Her mind went blank, panicked and excited at once.
Time froze again.
The noise of the party faded. The kitchen, with its spilled drinks and half-eaten pizza, went still. Tasha stood there, lips parted, her hand on top of his where he still gripped her.
The blue, translucent screen shimmered into existence.
[Option 1: Let's get out of here +5 lust points]
[Option 2: Sorry, I'm just drunk]
Liam chose. The screen vanished. Time snapped back, the bass thumping loud and fast.
"Let's get out of here," Liam said, his voice low and firm. It wasn't a question. He nodded toward the back exit of the kitchen, away from the crowd.
He released her firm round soft ass, sliding his hand down to her wrist and gripping it tight. Without waiting for an answer, he turned and pulled her along with him.
Tasha had no choice but to follow.
She stumbled slightly, her heels clicking quickly on the linoleum floor.
Her red tank top felt suddenly flimsy and exposed as he pulled her along.
The leather jacket she'd thrown on kept slipping off her shoulders as they moved, revealing more skin. Her short skirt shifted with each hurried step.
'Where is he taking me? Why am I letting him?' The questions burned in her mind, but she couldn't ask. She didn't want to see that look again, the one that had silenced her after the smack. She was overwhelmed by his sudden confidence, a swagger that was completely new to him.
She tried to rationalize the idea that it has to be the alcohol. That's the only explanation. He's going to crash, and I'll still be Tasha, the one who runs things.
But his grip was solid and warm, and she knew her theories were just excuses. The truth was she didn't want to pull away.
They pushed through the crowd and found the side door that led to the backyard. The air was cooler but still crowded. Liam kept pulling her past students, past pools of light, looking for somewhere isolated.
"Ah... ah... ah..." Soft moans and rhythmic breathing came from behind a hedge, a couple having sex, barely hidden in the shadows. Liam glanced over, then didn't slow down.
He tightened his grip and kept moving.
"They're everywhere," Liam muttered, his breath coming out in a sharp puff of frustration.
He kept his eyes scanning, finally spotting a gap in the trees and the tell-tale shape of playground equipment in the weak light beyond. "The park. In front. Come on."
He yanked her toward the opening.
They reached the small neighbourhood park. It was deserted, lit only by a single, sickly yellow-orange sodium lamp perched atop a twenty-foot pole.
The air smelled of damp grass and cool night. Liam pulled her to a weathered, wooden bench, a simple structure with slats worn smooth by years of indifferent use.
He reached the bench, released her wrist, and sat down.
He didn't glance at her, the message was clear.
He was claiming the power, claiming the space. Tasha stood there, breathing hard, her chest rising and falling beneath her red tank top. Her feet ached from the walk, her mind was spinning, and her frustration was boiling over.
"What—" she started, the anger finally bubbling past the confusion.
Time froze again.
Tasha stood there, hand raised in frustration, mouth open to confront him.
The screen appeared.
[Option 1: Toy with her emotions +5 lust points]
[Option 2: Say nothing+0 lust point]
Liam stared at Tasha's frozen face, the anger clear even in stillness.
'She's about to snap. I need to break her completely. Replace that anger with guilt.' He knew exactly how to do it, he had the perfect reason, and it would mess with her head.
Liam grinned, a dark smile that didn't reach his eyes. He chose.
Time snapped back.
"—are we doing here?" Tasha completed her question, her voice rising in a sharp wave of anger.
"Tasha!" Liam said her name, cutting through her anger with quiet intensity. He had her full attention before continuing.
He let a small smile cross his lips, one that looked like regret, carefully calculated for impact.
"I'm sorry," he began, his voice low and tired.
"I didn't reply last night. When you asked where I was... I was at the hospital. My mom was admitted suddenly. I know I shouldn't have ignored you, and I'm sorry if I hurt you."
The effect was devastating.
The anger drained out of her face like water from a sieve. Her posture slumped. The tight coil of her frustration unwound instantly, replaced by a suffocating wave of guilt.
"Oh, Liam," she whispered, her voice softening immediately. Her hand reached out toward him, a gesture that didn't match her usual self. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. God, I've been such a bitch. I see why you're mad at me... and I didn't give you a chance to explain."
'Hook, line, and sinker.'
Tasha calmed down completely. Shame flushed her cheeks. The anger, the condescension—all of it was replaced by guilt. She'd been petty and cruel while he dealt with a family crisis. The realization destroyed her pride.
"Now," she continued, stepping back, her voice small and pleading.
Time froze again.
Tasha was a picture of soft-faced repentance, her body language completely open and submissive. Liam knew the moment was absolute. He had completely dismantled her emotional defenses.
The screen shimmered.
[Option 1: Get on your fours and a beg like a dog would +15]
[Option 2: it's fine, it's all cool +0 points]
Liam looked at the options and picked without hesitation, his newfound confidence making the choice easy.
"Now, can we go back to the party?" Tasha asked again, trying to sound normal.
"Get on your knees and beg like a dog," Liam said, his voice flat and cold. No hesitation, no emotion.
Tasha stumbled back, her eyes widening. "What—"
"Did I stutter?" Liam cut her off, leaning forward on the bench. "I said get on your knees and beg like a dog." His voice was ice cold, leaving no room for argument.
Tasha stared at the unrelenting seriousness in his face. She saw the tone, the coldness, the refusal to backtrack.
This was not a joke. This was the dark price of her complete emotional surrender. The humiliation was total, but the unfamiliar heat in her groin, the residual thrill of the spank, told her she would do it.
She took a long, agonizing pause.
But the desire to obey, to earn his terrifying approval, had taken over. Slowly, reluctantly, she started going down.
She knelt slowly, her heels lifting as she lowered herself, then placed her hands flat on the cool concrete.
She shifted her weight, coming to rest fully on her fours, her elbows stiffening to support her frame.
She automatically adjusted her hips, pushing her impressive, huge butt well up toward the sodium lamp, the tight black skirt protesting, stretching and pulling tight over both cheeks of her round soft ass .
Her head was bowed, face hidden from view, leaving her ass fully exposed to him.
"I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
She was utterly embarrassed, the shame burning in her ears, yet confused by the intense rush of excitement that followed.
The position was degrading and arousing.
She couldn't help but to think is this why she wanted him? Because she wanted him to dominate her? Is that why she was so mad? Is that she wanted all this after all?.
Liam looked down at the ethereal number hovering just above her head
[100/100]
'Perfect. I can do anything I want with her now.'
A rush of satisfaction hit him. Her lust points were maxed out. Her defenses, her pride, her will, all gone.
Before she could form a decision about the confusing, traitorous desires flooding her body, Liam moved.
The low, tearing sound of his trouser zipper being pulled down was shockingly loud in the silence of the park.
He pulled his thick cock free. It was stiff, hot, and heavy—a long, impressive length that pulsed with blood.
He lowered his hips slightly and, without ceremony, slammed the heavy, engorged head of his erection against the soft curve of her cheek, slapping her back to the harsh, immediate reality of her position.
"Now, suck it," Liam said, his voice cold and flat, his command the only sound that mattered in the deserted park.