Yes… Mommy

The words slipped out of you before you could overthink them—soft, hesitant, cracking just a little at the edges.

“Yes… Mommy.”

The moment they left your lips, Dorothy’s entire demeanor shifted. Not dramatically—no sudden ****—but like a switch flipping from patient predator to satisfied owner.

A low, approving hum vibrated in her throat. Her hazel eyes darkened to molten amber, pupils swallowing the color until they looked almost black in the dim light of the stairwell.

“Good boy,” she purred, the praise wrapping around you like warm honey.

And then her hand—the one that had been resting so innocently at the small of your back—slid lower with deliberate slowness. Fingers splayed wide. She cupped one cheek of your ass fully, then squeezed. Hard.

Not a playful pat. Not teasing. A claiming grip—fingers digging in deep enough that you felt the blunt press of her manicured nails through the thin fabric of your shorts. She kneaded once, twice, pulling you flush against her so there was no space left between your bodies. Her thick cock throbbed visibly against your stomach, hot and insistent, the silk of her robe doing nothing to hide how fully she’d hardened at hearing you submit.

You gasped—couldn’t help it. The sound made her smile widen, slow and filthy.

“There it is,” she murmured against your temple, lips brushing skin as she spoke. “That little hitch in your breath. That tiny tremble. Mommy’s favorite things.”

She squeezed again, harder this time, rolling her palm in a slow circle that dragged your shorts tighter against your crack. Her other hand came up to cradle the nape of your neck, thumb stroking the pulse hammering under your jaw.

“You feel how strong my grip is?” she whispered, voice dropping so low it was almost a growl. “That’s how tightly I’m going to hold you all summer. Every time you forget who you belong to, I’ll remind you… just like this.”

She punctuated the sentence with another deep, possessive knead—fingers spreading you slightly through the fabric, the pressure obscene and intimate all at once. You could feel the heat radiating off her, the faint damp spot forming where the head of her cock leaked against the silk.

Her mouth found the shell of your ear again.

“Say it one more time,” she coaxed, lips grazing sensitive skin. “Louder this time. Let Mommy hear how much you want to be good for her.”

Her hips rocked forward in a lazy thrust—just enough to grind the full length of her along your belly, letting you feel every vein, every pulsing inch.

“And then…” She nipped your earlobe, teeth sharp enough to sting without breaking skin. “…you’re going to walk the rest of the way to my bedroom with my hand right here—” another hard squeeze, “—so I can feel exactly how much that pretty little ass clenches every time you take a step.”

She pulled back just far enough to meet your eyes, her expression equal parts adoration and dark hunger.

“Go on, baby. Say it for Mommy again.”

Her fingers flexed. Waiting.

Ready to reward… or punish.

Your choice.