I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, the sweat on our skin still cooling in the air-conditioned room. I looked at her, truly seeing her for a moment.

​"Where the hell did you learn to move like that, Chloe?" I asked, my voice still a bit gravelly. "That wasn't just some club dancing. That was professional."

​She let out a small, tired laugh, tucking a strand of damp hair behind her ear. "My mother," she murmured. "She's one of the most popular girls at a high-end spot in Manhattan. Still is. And Tiana? You saw how she carries herself. She's been on the pole since she turned eighteen. Growing up in a house full of women who make their living shaking their bodies... you learn the physics of it. It's in the blood."

​A flash of my own past flickered through my mind. I thought back to the neon lights and the smell of cheap gin in my aunt's all-female club. I had spent my younger years as a male stripper there, the 'star' for the ladies who wanted a show. It was how I learned to command a room, how I learned that a body was a tool for power.

​I looked at her, curious. "So, you followed the family business? You ever been on a stage, Chloe?"

​She pulled back slightly, a flicker of that Queens pride returning to her eyes. "No," she said firmly, her voice regaining its edge. "I've never been a stripper. I watched what it did to my mom and Tiana. The way men look at you like you're just a piece of meat with a price tag? No. That's beneath me."

​She ran a hand over the silk sheets of my bed, a symbolic gesture of the life she preferred. "I'd rather be the woman owning the man who owns the club."

​I smirked. She was ambitious, even if she was currently dependent on me. She didn't want to work the pole; she wanted to be the one the 'pornstar' came home to.

I looked down at her as she drifted off, a cynical smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. Owning me? She had no idea. In this world, the only thing I owned was my own ambition, and the only person I answered to was the man in the mirror.

​"Chloe?" I murmured, my voice vibrating against her temple.

​"Hmm...?" she groaned softly, the sound thick with the heavy, honeyed haze of exhaustion. She tried to shift closer, her skin sticky against mine, her body feeling like lead.

​"You want to go again?" I whispered, my hand sliding down to the small of her back. "One more round before the sun comes up?"

​There was no verbal response this time. Her breathing just deepened, a rhythmic, heavy rise and fall that pressed her breasts firmly against my ribs with every exhale. She was out cold. I'd worked her until there was nothing left—no more suspicion, no more jealousy, just the total silence of a body that had been thoroughly conquered.

I decided to open my system tab.

The blue holographic interface of the S.E.X ONLINE system shimmered in the dim light of the bedroom, a cold contrast to the warm, tangled sheets where Chloe still lay. I stared at the numbers, and for the first time since I stepped into this penthouse, I felt a flicker of genuine irritation.

​The stats didn't lie:

​[SYSTEM STATUS]

​[Host: Druski Hart]

​[Level: 1 (Amateur Prospect)]

​[Body Count: 6]

​[Scenes Completed: 9]

​[Rank: 0 (Unranked)]

​[Current Goal: 1 scene remaining to complete [Level 1 Quest: The Initiation]

​I ran the list through my head. Sasha, the one who started it all. Lisa Rhoades, the veteran who tested my stamina. Yolanda Adams—I'd bent her over during the interview process, a raw power move, but the system hadn't counted it as a "proper" scene yet. Then Willow, the one who almost snapped my spine with that feral energy. Jess, the gym coach, and Salma, that fiery Hispanic hit. Finally, there was Chloe, currently asleep behind me.

​Six girls. In the real world, that's a decent week. In the industry? It was a rounding error.

​I thought about the titans of the game—the guys with thousands of scenes, the legends who had seen every corner of the world and every type of woman. I was sitting in a penthouse, looking like a king, but according to the system, I was still just a peasant playing dress-up. Rank 0. That stung more than I cared to admit.

​I needed volume. I needed variety. Most importantly, I needed to finish this Level 1 Quest to see what kind of "Rewards" or "Skills" the system was going to unlock for me.

The blue light of the S.E.X ONLINE system flickered out as I focused on the strategy. If I was going to be the King, I couldn't just fuck beautiful women; I had to master every niche, every category, and every fantasy the industry demanded.

​My mind went straight to Yolanda Adams.

​She was the milf I wanted to slide my cock inside, but she was also a sleeping volcano. I remembered the way she looked when she interviewed me—that professional exterior barely masking a deep, seasoned sensuality. She was a "Thick MILF" in the truest sense: mature, confident, and carrying a weight in her hips that only comes with experience.

​She had only one professional credit to her name—the scene she shot with Kevin Lust while I was laid up at home after Willow nearly snapped my spine. The thought of another man claiming that territory while I was sidelined left a bitter taste in my mouth. It was time to correct that.

​A Mother/Son taboo scene. It was a classic high-traffic niche. If I could break the "professional" Yolanda and turn her into a submissive, craving mother figure on camera, the views would shatter records. It was the perfect 10th scene to close out my Level 1 Quest.

​I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, the screen illuminating the dark room. I opened the encrypted chat with Holmes.

​[Druski: Holmes. I've got the vision for the next shoot.]

[Druski: Tomorrow morning. Me and Yolanda Adams.]

[Druski: Niche: "Step-Mom's Secret." I want her in something professional that we can tear off. Make it happen.]

I hit send. I knew Holmes would complain about the short notice, but he knew better than to argue with the "Main Man" when he was on a streak.

​Beside me, Chloe stirred in her sleep, her hand brushing against my thigh.

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