NTR: The live-in-husband gets a perverted heart system

"Mr Tom Harlow, we -"

"We want to inform you- you - you"

The voice got distorted.

Tom scrunched up his face at the poor network, ended the call and his phone rang immediately, from the same caller.

Tom accepted it without a second thought and this time around, the voice was clear.

A calm, professional male voice came through.

"Mr. Harlow? This is about a delivery that requires your signature. The item was sent to the property but needs confirmation from you directly. Could you step outside the front gate for a moment?"

Tom pulled the phone slightly away from his ear and frowned at the screen. He wasn’t expecting any package. Still, it didn’t sound strange. Deliveries came to the house often enough because of Sienna’s work. People were always dropping things off.

But for them to specifically ask for him? That was strange. Sienna had never ask him to receive her packages on her behalf.

Well, he would have to go down and see what exactly was going on. Tom concluded then replied quickly;

"I’ll be right down,"

He ended the call, tossed the towel aside, and pulled on a pair of dark trousers and a plain black shirt. His hair was still damp from the shower. He ran his fingers through it once, then left the room.

The house was quiet that morning. No sound of Sienna. No staff moving around in the hallway. He walked through the front entrance and past the bodyguard on duty without slowing his steps. The man glanced at him but said nothing.

Outside the gate, a black private car was already waiting at the curb. The rear passenger door stood open.

Tom slowed a little as he approached. A tall man in a dark suit stepped out from the driver’s side and walked around the car with calm, practiced movements.

"Mr. Harlow?" the man called out to confirm and Tom nodded.

"This will only take a moment." the man told him.

But before Tom could ask any questions, the man’s hand closed firmly around his upper arm. The grip wasn’t painful, but it was strong and sure. He was guided into the back seat. The door shut behind him. The locks engaged with a soft sound.

Tom’s heart kicked hard against his ribs.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded but got no response.

He grabbed the door handle and pulled but It didn’t move.

"System, please help me. I’m being kidnapped." he muttered under his breath, tension rising fast.

[Host is being dramatic,] the System replied, voice calm and almost bored. [I detect no serious danger. Relax.]

Tom clenched his jaw and leaned forward. "I’m being driven away in a locked car against my will. How can I relax?"

[And yet your heart rate is only moderately elevated. Sit back, Host.] The system replied and Tom frowned.

Neither of the men in the front seats spoke. The one who had guided him in simply adjusted the rearview mirror and pulled away from the curb. The second man sat silently in the passenger seat, eyes forward.

Tom sat stiffly as the car moved through the city. He watched the streets pass by, trying to memorise turns, but the tinted windows and the smooth route made it difficult. After about twenty minutes the car entered the underground garage of a high-end hotel. The driver parked near a private elevator. Both men stepped out. The rear door opened again.

"This way, Mr. Harlow." one of them said, ready to leave the way.

Tom hesitated, then stepped out. The same firm hand settled on his arm again, guiding him into the elevator. A key card was tapped. The elevator rose without stopping at any other floor.

When the doors opened, he was led down a quiet, carpeted hallway. One of the men unlocked a door and gestured for him to enter.

Tom stepped inside.

The suite was large and brightly lit by morning sun filtering through plain curtains. Everything looked expensive - the furniture, the flooring, the long dining table near the windows. The air carried the faint smell of polished wood and fresh flowers.

A server in a crisp white uniform stood near the table, his hands folded neatly in front of him.

"Good morning, sir," the man said with a polite smile.

"Welcome. What would you like to have for breakfast?"

Tom stared at him. He didn’t understand what was going on.

"What is this place? Who brought me here?"he demanded to know but the server’s expression remained pleasantly neutral.

"I’m afraid I only handle the dining service, sir. If you’re uncertain about your selection, I can bring everything on the menu. That way you may choose whatever you prefer." the server replied.

Before Tom could form another question, the man gave a short, respectful nod and walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

"What’s going on?" Tom stood alone in the middle of the suite, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

A few minutes later the door opened again. The same server returned, this time pushing a large trolley covered with silver cloches and fresh plates. The rich smell of food filled the room almost immediately - scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, warm bread, fresh fruit, cheeses, pastries, and more.

"Please, sit," the server said.

He began transferring the dishes onto the table with calm efficiency. Tom remained standing, watching him in silence. Plate after plate was arranged neatly until the table looked like it belonged in a high-end restaurant. Once everything was in place, the server stepped back, gave another polite nod, and left the room without another word.

The door clicked shut.

Tom looked at the spread of food, then around the empty suite.

"System," he said quietly. "Is this you?"

[No.]

Tom blinked. "Then what the hell is going on?"

[I suggest Host eats. Clearly you are in for a treat.] the System replied in a casual voice which made Tom feel exasperated.

He shook his head but his stomach, traitorously, responded to the smell of the food.

"I should eat first." He muttered.

After a short moment he pulled out a chair and sat down and began looking for what looked appealing to his taste bud. The first few bites tasted better than anything he had eaten in a long time. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased just a little. He still didn’t understand where he was or who had brought him here, but the System had said there was no serious danger. And the food was real.

He ate more than he expected to.

When he finally set his utensils down and leaned back, the door on the far side of the suite opened again.

Two women stepped inside.

Both were young and striking, dressed in very little - slutty lingerie that clung to their bodies and left almost nothing hidden. They didn’t speak. They simply walked into the open space in front of the table and began to move.

The first turned slowly, hips rolling as she slid the thin straps of her top down her shoulders. The second ran her hands along her own waist and thighs, eyes fixed on Tom the entire time. Their movements were unhurried, and openly sexual.

Tom’s breath caught in his throat.

Before he could stand, a solid presence appeared behind him. Strong hands took hold of his wrists, pulled them behind the chair, and locked a pair of soft but firm cuffs around them.

Tom twisted, trying to look at the man who had cuffed him.

"Now this is no longer fascinating m I need to know what is going on." he demanded, his face twisting with anger.

The man gave no answer. He simply stepped away and left the room, closing the door behind him.

The two women continued dancing, now moving closer. One placed a knee on the edge of the chair beside him. The other leaned in until he could smell her perfume, her body nearly brushing his arm. They smiled playful, knowing, but still said nothing.

Heat was already building low in Tom’s stomach despite the confusion and the restraint.

"System, this has to be you." he said under his breath, his voice tight.

[No, Host. This is not me.] the System replied evenly.

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