First day corruption

The First Whisper of Corruption

—Tuesday, 3:47 PM. Torino’s Egyptian Museum, Storage Room B—

The ring didn’t belong here.

Aslan knew it the moment his fingers brushed against the obsidian band tucked between two crumbling papyrus scrolls in the museum’s archives. It was too pristine, too alive, its surface etched with violet runes that pulsed faintly, like a slow, seductive heartbeat.

"Osiris’s Embrace," the accompanying label read, though the description was sparse—"A relic of unknown origin. Handle with caution."

Aslan scoffed. The museum was full of overblown warnings meant to thrill tourists. But as he slid the ring onto his right middle finger, a jolt of heat seared through his veins, settling low in his gut. His breath hitched.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the whispers started.

"You hunger…"

The voice was velvet-dark, curling around his thoughts like smoke.

"She hungers too… your mother… your first…"

Aslan’s pulse spiked.

Reya.

—4:32 PM. Walk Home—

The ring didn’t come off.

No matter how hard Aslan tugged, the obsidian band clung to his finger, its runes glowing faintly whenever he thought of her—Reya, his mother, with her wide hips and that infuriatingly fat ass she always tried to hide under loose sweaters.

He’d spent years stealing glances, biting back words that would shatter their fragile normalcy.

Now, the ring thrummed, as if laughing at his restraint.

"Test me…" it murmured.

Aslan’s jaw clenched.

He would.

—5:18 PM. Home—

Reya was in the kitchen, her back turned, hips swaying slightly as she chopped vegetables. She hadn’t heard him come in.

Aslan lingered in the doorway, watching.

She wore those damn yoga pants again—the black ones that clung to every curve, the ones that made his mouth water. Her ass jiggled faintly with each movement, the fabric straining over its plumpness.

The ring pulsed.

"Call her…"

Aslan swallowed.

"Mom."

Reya turned, emerald eyes brightening. "Aslan! You’re home early."

Her smile was warm, oblivious.

He stepped closer, the ring’s heat spreading up his arm.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Long day. You look… tense."

Reya blinked, then laughed, rubbing her neck. "Ugh, tell me about it. My shoulders are killing me."

Aslan’s fingers twitched.

"Touch her…"

He exhaled.

"Here," he said, voice low. "Let me help."

Before she could protest, his hands were on her shoulders, kneading the tight muscles there.

Reya sighed, melting under his touch. "Mmm… since when do you give good massages?"

"Since now," Aslan lied.

His thumbs dug in, working down her spine. The ring’s whispers grew louder, guiding his movements, his words.

"You’re so tight, Mom," he murmured, lips near her ear. "You should relax more."

Reya shivered.

His hands slid lower, skimming the sides of her breasts.

She stiffened—but didn’t pull away.

"Good…" the ring purred. "Now… hypnotize her…"

Aslan’s breath hitched.

He leaned in, lips brushing her ear.

"Close your eyes, Mom," he whispered, the ring’s power threading through his voice like silk. "Just… let go."

Reya’s lashes fluttered shut.

A soft sigh escaped her lips.

Aslan’s hands drifted lower, cupping her waist, his thumbs stroking the soft swell of her belly.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, the words dripping with honeyed compulsion. "You know that, right?"

Reya’s breath hitched.

"N-No," she whispered, but her hips pressed back faintly, brushing against his growing hardness.

Aslan’s fingers tightened.

"Yes," he growled. "Every curve… every stretch mark… perfect."

His hands slid down, gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him.

Reya gasped.

"Aslan—!"

"Shhh," he soothed, one hand sliding around to her front, fingers teasing the waistband of her yoga pants. "Just… feel."

The ring burned.

Reya whimpered.

Her head lolled back against his shoulder, her body pliant, yielding.

Aslan’s fingers dipped lower.

"Mine…" the ring hissed.

—6:02 PM. Kitchen Counter—

Reya’s yoga pants were around her thighs, the voluptuous milf's fat ass pressed against the edge of the counter, her breath coming in shallow gasps as Aslan’s fingers worked her pussy with slow, cruel precision.

"T-This is wrong," she slurred, but her wide hips rocked against his hand, the mature woman's cunt dripping.

Aslan smirked, his other hand gripping her hip, holding her in place.

"Is it?" he murmured, lips trailing her neck. "Then why are you so wet, Mom?"

Reya moaned, her thighs trembling.

The ring’s power thrummed, sinking deeper into her mind, unraveling her resistance thread by thread.

"B-Because—"

"Because you need this," Aslan finished for her, his voice dark with promise. "Because no one appreciates you like I do."

His fingers curled, stroking that sweet spot inside her.

Reya wailed, her back arching.

"Aslan—!"

"Cum," he commanded.

And she did—violently, her pussy clenching around his fingers, the sinful milf's juices coating his hand.

Aslan groaned, pressing his aching cock against her fat ass.

"First lesson," the ring whispered. "She’s already yours."

—Later, 8:14 PM. Reya’s Bedroom—

Reya lay sprawled on her bed, her voluptuous body still humming from the aftershocks, the mature woman's mind foggy with the pink haze of hypnotic lust.

What had just happened?

She remembered the massage… the touch… the pleasure…

"O-Ohmygod..."

Her cheeks burned.

"It was just stress relief," she told herself, ignoring the slickness between her curvy thighs.

Across the hall, Aslan smirked, the ring glowing faintly on his finger.

"Tomorrow," it promised. "We go deeper."