Isabella finds her mother

Isabella walked into her office, holding her torn shirt together with her hands. She had sent her handmaid Bianca to get her a change of clothes, but figured her mother wouldn't mind - she was the one who had convinced Isabella that she was sexually liberated after all.

The office was empty, save for her mother, who sat on the sofa, looking out of the window.

"Mother?" Isabella called out, her voice a whisper, feeling her juices leaking out into her underwear everytime she moved.

"You're here, darling," her mother turned, her voice soft. She was wrapped in her usual robe, her black hair tied up in a loose bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face. Her dark eyes were warm as she regarded Isabella. "What was the hold up, Bella?"

Isabella sat beside her mother on the couch, the soft fabric of the cushions a comforting contrast to the cold, hard table she had just been fucked on.

"Just... a meeting," she managed to say, her cheeks flushing. She couldn't bring herself to admit what she had just done, what she had allowed to happen, no matter how comfortable she was with her mother.

Her mother's hand came to rest on her knee, a gentle, reassuring touch, giving her a knowing smile.

"It's ok, Bella. You don't have to say it."

They sat there in silence for a while, Isabella's heart slowly calming down, her breaths becoming less frantic. The office was quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of the curtains in the breeze.

"Bella, I'm here to offer you my assistance. As the Secretary General, I can help manage your affairs, handle the more mundane matters. I want to make sure you have the space and freedom to lead, without being bogged down by bureaucracy."

Isabella looked up at her mother, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, mother. I appreciate that."

A cough came from the door, and Bianca entered, carrying a fresh set of clothes for Isabella. Isabella stood, taking the clothes with a quiet thanks. She changed before her mother, allowing her soiled clothes to fall to the floor.

Her mother examined her naked figure, the bruises on her thighs and hips, the marks of passion, her soft curves and shapely limbs.

"How you've blossomed, my little flower. I remember when I first came back, seeing you scared and alone in this office, and now look at you - a woman, a leader. I'm so proud of you, Bella," she said, a smile playing at her lips.

Isabella felt a rush of emotion, tears stinging her eyes. She hadn't realized how much she'd needed to hear those words. "Thank you, mother. It means so much to me."

Her mother pulled her into a hug, her arms warm and strong. "You'll be fine, my dear. Remember, you're not alone. We're all here to support you. Let me know if you need anything. I will do anything for you, Bella, I promise you."

Isabella, content in her embrace, thought about what she needed most right now.

Finally, she looked into her mother's eyes and asked: