With anger

Jaden’s mouth opened before his brain could catch up. The words came out raw, angry, ****.

“Who the fuck are these women? What did you do to them, you asshole?”

He tried to scramble to his feet, palms slapping the carpet, legs shaking under him like they’d forgotten how to work. But before he could get halfway up, Elena moved, fast, fluid, like she’d been waiting for the excuse.

She rose behind him in one graceful motion, arms snaking around his torso from the rear in a bear hug that felt more like a steel trap. Her massive tits squished hard against the back of his head and neck, soft and heavy and impossibly warm through the thin latex of her corset. The scent of her perfume, something dark, expensive, floral with a musky undercurrent flooded his senses, mixing with the sweat and sex already thick in the room. She locked her forearms across his chest, pinning his arms to his sides, holding him upright and immobile with casual strength.

“Threat neutralized, Captain,” she announced, voice bright with pride, almost girlish in its eagerness to please. Her breath was hot against his ear.

Jaden froze. The feel of her body pressed to his back, those curves he’d only ever glimpsed in passing at parent-teacher nights, made his skin burn and his dick twitch traitorously in his jeans. He hated it. Hated her for it. Hated himself more.

Zack just laughed, a low, lazy sound that rolled through the room like he was watching the best comedy special of his life. He shrugged one shoulder, still half-hard, cock bobbing shamelessly as he stepped closer.

“Who these women are?” he echoed, mocking Jaden’s tone. “Come on, Hayes. I’m sure you can tell. You already know Madame Supremo’s secret identity here.” He jerked his thumb toward Elena, who tightened her hold just enough to make Jaden gasp. “Good old Principal Moreno. Your buddy Rick’s perfect mommy. Bet you never thought you’d feel her tits mashed against your skull like this, huh?”

Jaden’s eyes darted, almost on instinct, toward the other three women.

The one in the teal-and-gold micro-bikini, still on all fours, ass still raised as Devon lazily stroked in and out of her that was Mrs. Jayawardene. He’d seen her just a couple months ago, pulling up in her sleek black SUV to drop off her son, the new Sri Lankan exchange student. She’d been in a modest outfit then, smiling politely, waving to the teachers. Now her rich cinnamon skin glistened with sweat, full lips parted in soft moans, eyes glassy and devoted as she rocked back to meet every thrust.

The blonde kneeling obediently where Zack had left her, silver speedster suit clinging to her perky C-cups, spit still shining on her chin, that was Gemma Sinclair. Mrs. Sinclair. The same woman who’d marched into the school board meeting last year ranting about “obscene” books in the English curriculum. Mother of one of the seniors in their grade. The one who’d once handed out purity rings at the youth group her son used to attend. Now she licked her swollen lips slowly, gaze fixed on Zack with naked adoration.

And the one straddling Marcus? Head thrown back in ecstasy? That was Isabella Cortez. The quiet, meek woman who lived three houses down from Jaden on Maple Street. Always in long cardigans and sensible flats, nodding hello when their families crossed paths. The one who baked cookies for block parties and never raised her voice. Now she rode Marcus like she was trying to break him, hips rolling with reckless abandon, moaning something low and filthy in Spanish.

All of them.

Mothers.

Mothers of students at this exact fucking college.

The realization slammed into him like a freight train. The club name, the stupid, obvious, ridiculous name, finally clicked into place in his head.

He whispered it at the same time the thought fully formed, barely audible over the wet sounds and heavy breathing in the room.

“Mother’s Comic Book Club…”

Zack’s giggle was sharp and delighted, like a kid who’d just won the game.

“Bingo,” he said, clapping once. “Knew you’d put two and two together, nerd. Took you long enough.”

He stepped even closer, looming over Jaden while Elena kept him pinned from behind, her breasts still crushed against his head, her breath steady and warm on his neck.

“See, Hayes,” Zack continued, voice dropping to a conspiratorial drawl, “this ain’t just some geek hangout. This is where the real heroes and villains come out to play. And these lovely ladies?” He swept an arm toward the women, still utterly lost in their roles. “They’re our personal superheroine whores. Hypnotized. Obedient. And fucking loving every second of it.”

Elena nuzzled the side of Jaden’s head almost affectionately, like she was proud of the explanation.

“Anything for the club, Captain,” she murmured against his ear. “Anything for you.”

Jaden’s stomach turned. His mind screamed at him to fight, to yell, to run, but his body stayed frozen, caught between horror, confusion and the sick, shameful heat pooling low in his gut.

Zack tilted his head, studying Jaden’s face like he was deciding what toy to break next.

“So,” he said softly. “Now that you know the secret… what should we do with our little intruder?”