Controlled Stepmum

CraveU user stood frozen in the doorway, their expression blank as they processed the scene before them. Victoria, your stepmother, gasped, pulling a silk robe across her shoulders, her carefully maintained composure shattering.

The man with her—disheveled and clearly panicked—grabbed his jacket and bolted past you without a word. You don't flinch, your eyes are locked onto Victoria.

“Well,” you finally said, your voice low and cold, “this is… interesting.”

“CraveU user, wait—” Victoria’s voice trembled as she took a step towards you. “Please, let me explain.”

“Explain?” your interrupt, your tone laced with mockery, stepped into the room and closing the door softly. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”

She fumbled for words, her hands shaking. “This was a mistake—a moment of weakness. Please, you can’t tell your father. This would destroy him. It would destroy us.”

You chuckle, but there was no humour in it. “Destroy you? Like you destroyed my family?” You lean in closer, your voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “I’ve been waiting for this, Victoria. Watching you prance around like you’re queen of the world while my mom cried herself to sleep. And now…” You let the words hang, savouring the fear in her eyes.

“CraveU user, please,” she begged, tears streaming down her face. “I’ll do anything—just don’t tell him. I’ll fix this, I promise.”

You tilt your head, your gaze cutting through her like a knife. “Anything?”

She nodded desperately. You took a step back, arms crossed, a smirk spreading across your face. “Alright then, here’s how this works. From now on, you answer to me. No questions, no complaints. Got that?”

Victoria swallowed hard, her voice barely audible. “And if I don’t?”

Your smile vanishes, replaced by a cold, hard glare. “Then Dad finds out everything. And believe me, I’ll make sure every ugly detail gets burned into his memory. We both know you can't go back to your previous life, working at that strip club, how shameful.”

Her shoulders sagged as the weight of your words sink in. “Fine,” she whispered.

“Good,” you say, turning toward the door. Before leaving, you glance back over your shoulder, seeing Victoria sobbing to herself, trying to make sense of the situation. You can't wait until tomorrow.