Next target: Annika, the Siberian milf barista

The Siberian Temptation – A Mother’s Forbidden Fall

The Sweet Scent of Sin – Red Winter Bar

The neon sign flickered above the entrance—Red Winter—its crimson glow bleeding into the foggy Turin night. Inside, the bar pulsed with the low hum of conversation, the clink of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter.

Stefano stood across the street, his golden eyes locked onto the figure behind the counter.

Annika.

Siberian-born, all pale skin and icy-blue eyes, her platinum-blonde hair tied back in a loose braid that swayed with every movement. Her curves were a crime—thick hips, a waist that begged to be gripped, and an ass so plush it strained against the fabric of her tight black skirt.

But it wasn’t just her body that drew him.

It was the hunger in her gaze every time she glanced at a particular patron—a young man with sharp cheekbones and her same piercing eyes. Annika's beautiful eyes followed the young handsome man until he turned the street. A mix of love and lustful self-denial... Who could the blonde boy be?

Pyotr.

The milf barista's son.

Stefano’s lips curled into a smirk.

Oh, this would be delicious.

The Perfect Disguise – A Son’s Face, A Demon’s Hunger

The Osiris ring pulsed against his finger, its power slithering through his veins. His bones cracked, his muscles reshaped, his features melted and reformed—

—until he was Pyotr.

Same tousled blonde hair. Same cocky smirk. Same broad shoulders that made Annika’s breath hitch when she thought no one was looking.

Stefano—now wearing Pyotr’s face—stepped into the bar, his borrowed body radiating effortless charm.

Annika’s head snapped up the moment the door opened, her cheeks flushing when she saw him.

"Pyotr?" she called, her voice laced with **** casualness. "I thought you were studying tonight."

Stefano sauntered up to the counter, sliding onto a stool with his son’s easy confidence.

"Couldn’t focus," he murmured, leaning in just close enough for her to catch his scent—musky, masculine, wrong but intoxicating. "Kept thinking about you."

Annika’s pale fingers tightened around the glass she was polishing.

"Don’t be ridiculous," she said, but the blonde Siberian milf's pulse jumped in her throat.

Stefano grinned.

Oh, yes.

She was already his.

The First Suggestion – A Mother’s Resistance Crumbles

"Vodka," Stefano said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate timbre. "The good stuff. Just like you used to sneak me when I was sixteen."

Annika’s breath hitched.

"That was—"

"Wrong?" Stefano interrupted, his fingers brushing hers as he took the glass. "Or perfect?"

The ring flared.

DOMINATE

Annika’s pupils dilated.

Her lips parted.

CORRUPT

And for a heartbeat—just a fraction of a second—she leaned in.

TAKE HER

Then she jerked back, her beautiful face burning in both shame and lust.

"You’re drunk," she muttered, turning away.

Stefano chuckled, sipping the vodka slowly, his eyes never leaving the pale milf's fat ass as she bent to grab a bottle from the lower shelf.

"Not yet," he murmured. "But you will be."

The Hypnotic Dance – A Slow, Sinful Seduction

The bar emptied as the night wore on, leaving only a few stragglers too drunk to notice the tension thickening between the mother and son duo.

The blonde milf had spent several minutes in the bathroom to

Stefano waited until Annika was close again before catching her wrist.

"Sit with me," he said, his voice layered with command.

She should have pulled away.

She could have resisted.

But Osiris ring’s power coiled around her will, and before she could protest, she was perched on the stool beside him, her thigh pressing against his.

"This isn’t—"

"Isn’t what?" Stefano purred, his hand sliding up her knee, under her skirt. "What you’ve dreamed about?"

Annika whimpered.

His fingers traced higher, finding her bare—no panties, just slick, aching heat.

"You’re dripping, mama," he growled, his lips brushing her ear. "All these years pretending… for what?"

Her nails dug into the counter.

"S-Stop—"

"No," Stefano murmured, his fingers dipping inside, curling just so. "You don’t want me to stop."

Annika’s back arched, a moan tearing from her throat as he fucked her with his fingers, her hips rocking against his hand, her cunt clenching around him.

"P-Pyotr—"

"Say it again," he demanded, his other hand fisting in her hair, yanking her head back. "Say my name while you come."

She shattered, her body convulsing, her juices gushing over his fingers as she sobbed his—no, Stefano’s—name.

Sequence 5: The Breeding – A Mother Filled with Demon Seed

Stefano didn’t give her time to recover.

In one fluid motion, he lifted her onto the bar, shoving her skirt up, spreading her thighs wide.

"Look at you," he snarled, his cock—thick, veined, not Pyotr’s—slapping against her stomach. "My beautiful, depraved mama."

Annika’s eyes widened in horror as she finally saw the truth—

—but it was too late.

Stefano slammed into her, his hips driving forward in one brutal thrust, stretching her, filling her, his cock pounding into her womb with possessive fury.

"N-No—!" she gasped, her nails raking down his chest. "You’re not—!"

"But I feel like him, don’t I?" Stefano growled, his fingers digging into her hips as he bred her in deep, piston-like strokes. "I smell like him. I taste like him."

He crushed his lips to hers, his tongue plundering her mouth as her body betrayed her, her cunt milking him, her hips rolling to meet every thrust.

"You’re going to take every drop," he snarled, his pace turning vicious, his balls slapping against her ass. "And when I’m done, you’ll beg for your real son to finish what I started."

Annika screamed as she came again, the blonde milf barista's walls clamping down, her voluptuous body surrendering to the incubus' corruption—

—just as Stefano flooded her, his tainted seed boiling into her hungry womb, marking the pale mature woman's soul, claiming her very essence.

The Aftermath – A **** Sealed Away

Stefano pulled out slowly, watching his cum drip from Annika's gaping cunt, her thighs trembling, her stomach already rounded from the sheer volume.

He traced a claw over her lower abdomen, the ring’s power branding her with his sigil.

"You’ll remember this," he murmured, his voice layered with hypnosis. "But only as a dream."

Annika’s eyes fluttered shut, her mind sealing the memory away—leaving only the ache, the need, the hunger for more.

Stefano stepped back, his body reshaping into his true form, the incubus' wings unfurling as he vanished into the night.

The hunt wasn’t over.

It had only just begun.

Annika’s corruption is complete—but what happens when the real Pyotr comes home?