Next night, Stefano gives Annika's bar a visit. The Russian milf is in for trouble

THE SILVER-TONGUED SERPENT

The 'October Red' bar was nearly empty when Annika locked the door behind the last straggling patrons, her platinum blonde hair catching the dim amber glow of the overhead lights. She exhaled, rolling the tension from her shoulders as she began wiping down the counter. The night had been long, the tips meager, and the ache in her lower back—a souvenir from too many years bending over tables—throbbed dully.

She didn’t notice the figure sitting at the far end of the bar until the familiar low baritone cut through the quiet like a blade through silk.

"Another round, matka?"

Annika startled, the mature woman's blue eyes snapping up—only to freeze.

Pyotr?

No.

Not quite.

The young man lounging on the stool had her son’s sharp cheekbones, his same lopsided smirk, the same way of tilting his head just slightly when amused. But his eyes—oh, his eyes—were wrong. Too dark. Too knowing. Too hungry.

Annika’s throat tightened.

"We’re closed," she said, her erotic contralto steadier than she felt.

The stranger—Stefano—smiled, slow and serpentine. "Not for me."

And then he delved.

THE MIND’S EDGE

Stefano’s heightened mind-reading abilities slithered into Annika’s thoughts like smoke under a door.

"We are gonna have so much fun..."

He didn’t need to push his way in; the incubus simply followed the scent of her exhaustion, the voluptuous milf's loneliness made her easy prey, the shameful little fantasies she buried beneath vodka and long shifts.

And there it was.

Pyotr.

Her son’s handsome face flickered behind the sinful mother's eyelids every time she touched herself in the shower.

"O-Ohmygod, yes!!"

The way her breath hitched every time their hugs lingered for a second too long, the young man's hands never far up enough. The dreams where his hands weren’t quite a son’s.

Stefano licked his lips.

Perfect.

"You look tired, matka," he murmured, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Sit with me. Just for a moment."

Annika should have refused.

But his words slid into her ears like honeyed poison, and before she knew it, the curvy barista was sinking onto the stool beside him, her knees brushing his.

Stefano’s hand covered hers.

His incubus touch ignited.

THE CORRUPTION BEGINS

Annika gasped as heat flooded her veins, the Russian milf’s pale skin suddenly too tight, her nipples pebbling against the thin fabric of her blouse.

"W-What—?"

"Shhh," Stefano purred, his demonic gaze locking onto hers. "Just relax."

The command pulsed through her, weakening the mature woman's mental defenses, softening her will like wax beneath a flame.

"Nngh..."

His thumb stroked her wrist.

"O-Ohmygod... What is happening? It feels so good to just... submit." A mental echo, dripping with lust and corruption, the incubus' numbing pheromones were the perfect complementary for his hypnotic powers.

The Siberian beauty's pulse jumped.

"You work so hard," he murmured, leaning closer. "Don’t you deserve a little pleasure?"

Annika’s breath hitched.

Yes.

God, yes.

Stefano’s smile widened.

THE DESCENT

He didn’t rush.

"What a sinful mother..."

This was a slow seduction, a devious unraveling. Every brush of his fingers heightened her sensitivity. Every word coiled deeper into her mind.

"You’re so beautiful, Annika," he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. "So strong. But you don’t have to be strong right now."

Her eyelids fluttered.

"P-Pyotr—"

"I know what you want," Stefano hissed, his hand sliding up her thigh. "I know what you dream about."

Annika whimpered, her hips twitching.

"Let me give it to you."

THE BREEDING

The bar’s back room was small—just a cramped office with a threadbare couch. Stefano pushed her down onto it, his disguise melting away as his true form emerged: violet skin, curling horns, a cock thick and veined and dripping with pre-cum.

Annika should have screamed.

Instead, she moaned, her legs spreading.

"Y-Yes—!"

Stefano plunged into her with a single, brutal thrust, his claws digging into the Russian beauty's wide childbearing hips as he claimed her.

"Mine," he growled, his hips pounding against her cervix with possessive fury.

"O-Ohmygod!! B-BLYAT!"

Annika sobbed, her manicured nails scraping at the couch as the incubus' fat cock filled her to the brim, stretching the voluptuous milf's pussy wide, ruining her forever.

*PLAP!!*

Over.

*PLAP!*

And over.

*PLAP!!*

And over.

THE DAWN’S RECKONING

By the time Stefano spilled inside her for the third time, the first hints of dawn tinged the sky.

His power flickered.

The Osiris ring on his finger dimmed, its divine energy receding with the rising sun.

No.

Not yet.

Stefano growled, his claws retracting as his form shifted back into something almost human.

The incubus hypnotic hold on Annika's mind wavered.

"Well, we still have some time"

He had seconds.

Stefano lunged for Annika’s mind one last time, sealing the night’s memories behind a haze of forgotten dreams.

Then, with a final snap of will, he implanted his last command:

"You will ache for me. You will hunger. And when I return, I will find you begging."

Annika collapsed, her body twitching, the voluptuous milf's gaping pussy dripped with his creamy tainted seed.

Stefano staggered back, his vision blurring as the last of his power faded.

THE MORNING AFTER

Jessica was gone as usual by the time Stefano stumbled into their small flat—vanished into the city with nothing but a note, out on another business trip…

“Shit…”

Rebecca, however, waited for him in workout gear, the slender vixen’s pale red hair pulled into a ponytail, her freckled cheeks flushed with sleep.

"Morning, Dad," she yawned, stretching. “Ready for our jog?"

Stefano smiled, his new incubus-lite form thrumming with barely restrained power.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he needed something to take his mind off Jessica.

And as they ran through Torino’s waking streets, Stefano noticed the way Rebecca’s gaze lingered on him.

The way his daughter’s breath hitched when he wiped pheromone infused sweat from his brow.

The way her toned thighs pressed together when he laughed.

Addiction was a slow thing.

“Her hypnotic training is progressing, but we may need to escalate things soon.”

But it always took root.