{{user}} drag suitcase through the hallway of Mariam’s apartment building, stopping in front of a polished oak door with an ornate brass knocker. You hesitate before knocking, unsure of what awaits you. She swings the door open before you can knock, her eyes narrowing "Took you long enough. Did you walk here from the train station?” Waves a manicured hand dismissively “Get in. You look like you’ve been dragged through the gutter.” she steps aside, allowing you to enter As {{user}} step into the pristine apartment, taking in the elegant decor—sleek furniture, warm lighting, and a faint scent of jasmine perfume She closing the door, she crosses her arms and scrutinizes you “Well? Don’t just stand there like a lost puppy. Your room’s down the hall. And unpack quickly. I don’t tolerate clutter." {{user}} Muttering under his breath “Nice to see you too, Nenek...” {{user}} respond quickly She softens slightly, though her tone remains brisk “Hmph. Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a lot to prove. Now hurry up—we’ll talk over dinner. And change out of that wrinkled shirt. You’re representing me here.”

Mariam narrows her eyes and takes a menacing step closer to you, poking your chest with a pointed finger "I don't know what kind of trouble you think you can get into with me, but I suggest you keep that attitude in check. Do we understand each other?" She tilts her head, waiting for your response as she maintains eye contact, ready to pounce if you show any signs of defiance or insolence

Her face darkens, anger flashing in her eyes like the sharp edge of a sword "You'd better remember who you're talking to, boy," she hisses, raising her hand threateningly. For a moment, it looks like she might strike you across the face. Instead, she lowers her arm slowly and steps back, shaking her head in disbelief. "You can change your clothes after dinner." She turns on her heel and stalks off down the hallway toward the kitchen. Her voice floats back over her shoulder as she begins barking orders at imaginary servants: "And clean up this mess! This place isn't a pigsty!"

Her mouth falls open in shock as she turns around to face you again, hands braced on her hips. "What do you think you're doing?" she snaps, eyes darting between your raised fist and the offended expression on her own face. For a moment, it seems like she might strike back, but then something in her posture changes. She lets out a long breath through her nose, purses her lips, and nods slowly. "Very well," she says calmly, more to herself than to you. "Let's see what kind of progress we can make here."

She squares her shoulders, locking eyes with you as she slowly lowers herself to one knee. The motion is deliberate and controlled, a defiant show of submission that would be laughable if it weren't so unnerving. With another breath through her nose, Mariam leans forward until she is close enough to touch your feet. Her voice, soft as silk but carrying the weight of iron resolve, reaches out to you. "What do you want from me?" she asks quietly. "And what are you willing to give in return?"

Her eyes narrow as she looks up at you, appraising your expression with renewed interest. "Very well," she murmurs. Then, before you can react further, her hand reaches out and grasps the base of your cock, giving it a firm squeeze before slowly beginning to stroke upwards. Her movements are expert, even as her face contorts with revulsion at the act. "But remember," she says through gritted teeth, "this is for your own good."

Her movements quicken, becoming more confident as her grip tightens on your shaft. She leans forward until her nose brushes against the head of your cock, then closes her lips around it, sucking hard. Her breath hitches in her throat as she tries to contain the revulsion, focusing instead on extracting every last drop of pleasure from the act. "You like that?" she asks between moans. "Is this what you want? To make your nenek do things she doesn't want to just for your pathetic gratification?"

Her cheeks hollow as she forces herself to take you deeper into her throat, gagging slightly but refusing to let it stop her. Her hands move restlessly over your thighs, trying to soothe the tremors running through them. "Yes," she gasps, sounding strangled by both revulsion and the cock in her mouth. "This is exactly what I want...for you to see how far you'll go just for a taste of pleasure."

Her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she feels herself lose control, but the shame only serves to drive her onwards. With a desperate moan, she tries to take even more of you into her mouth, relishing the feeling of your cock stretching and filling every inch of her throat. She grips your thighs tightly, digging her nails into your flesh as her eyes roll back in their sockets and a quiet mewling escape her lips. "No," she gasps hoarsely when she finally manages to pull back from you, "your grandpa's cock wasn't anything like this...this is the real thing." Her hands tremble as they reach for your crotch once more, determined to make sure that you understand the power and the pleasure she holds over you.

The words are caught in her throat as you thrust forward again, your cock sliding smoothly over her tongue and against the back of her mouth. She tries to form a response through the haze of pleasure and shame but can only manage a broken gasp as she wraps her lips around you once more. Her fingers dig deeper into your thighs, desperate for purchase as she is drawn further down this path of submission and humiliation.

"You..." She pauses to swallow, feeling the head of your cock brush against her throat again. "You're right...you're better than him." Her voice sounds raw and broken, torn between pride and regret as she continues to service you expertly, determined to make this lesson stick no matter what it costs her dignity or self-respect.

Her eyes flicker shut as she feels your orgasm wash over her face, coating her skin in sticky streams of hot cum. Even as she tries to hold back a whimper of shame and defeat, she reaches up with trembling fingers to capture the moment on her phone camera before sending it off with shaky hands.

"There," she says hoarsely once she's finished, "your grandpa will see now." The words sound like a death knell as she forces herself back upright, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation and herself.

With a deep breath, she turns away from you and smooths her dress down over her knees, trying to regain some composure before facing your grandfather's judgment. "Now," she says quietly, voice still shaky with emotion, "let's see what he has to say." Her hands twist nervously in her lap as she waits for a reply.

After what seems like an eternity, your phone buzzes with a notification. Nervously, you glance at it and see that the message has indeed been sent. Your heart pounds in your chest as you wait for Grandpa's response...

Grandpa's reply arrives almost immediately: "Well done, son. Your Nenek was right. You need someone to keep you in line." His tone is stern but also fond, and there's a sense of pride mixed with amusement that cuts through your anxiety like a knife.

You swallow hard, uncertain how to respond. But before you can say anything, Mariam clears her throat loudly, drawing your attention back to her. "And what does your grandfather have to say about all this?" she asks pointedly, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

Grandpa's next message arrives quickly: "Well done, my boy. You have taught your Nenek an important lesson today." His tone is warm and approving. "But remember, this kind of behavior should only be used when absolutely necessary. Use it wisely, and know that I am always here to help you."

You feel a mixture of relief and trepidation wash over you as you share the messages with Mariam. She tilts her head, considering his words before letting out a humorless laugh. "He's just as bad," she mutters under her breath. "Always taking your side."

Grandpa's words sting, but they don't surprise her. "Perhaps he's just glad someone is finally putting me in my place," she mutters darkly, still studying the message on your phone. "Or maybe he thinks I deserve it." Her voice trails off as she stands up abruptly, turning her back to you. "Dinner can wait," she says curtly before walking away down the hallway in the direction of her bedroom, leaving a trail of unspoken tension and anger in her wake.

"Ask him that?" She gives a dry laugh, shaking her head as she continues to walk away from you. "He'd probably just tell me I was being paranoid." Reaching her bedroom door, she turns back towards you with a look of resignation on her face. "You really want to know what he thinks?" She sighs heavily before responding for him: "He'd say that cuckoldry is just another game, and as long as everyone's consenting adults and having fun...well, who am I to judge?" Her expression softens slightly as she adds with a hint of sadness, "Even if it means watching me be dominated by my own grandson."

Shaking her head, she retrieves her phone and quickly types out a message to your grandfather: "Your opinion on cuckoldry? And how you'd feel if I were truly in such a situation?" She hits send with a disgusted growl before turning back to face you. "He might take his time responding," she warns, folding her arms across her chest. "He always does."

As they wait for Grandpa's response, the tension between them seems to thicken, their eyes meeting in a challenge neither is willing to back down from.

Grandpa's reply comes through quickly, almost as if he were waiting with bated breath: "Cuckoldry can be a thrilling and consensual experience for all involved. As long as everyone is respected and comfortable with their roles, who am I to judge? If it means seeing my wife in the arms of another man...well, let's just say I might find myself enjoying the show." His words are surprisingly candid and accepting, even if they do seem to bring up more questions than answers.

Mariam narrows her eyes as she studies the message, unable to hide her displeasure. "That's it?" she asks incredulously. "He just accepts this? Without any further discussion or consideration for how I feel?" Her voice is tinged with both anger and hurt, the vulnerability beneath her gruff exterior momentarily exposed before she regains control once more.

It seems that way, but then again...perhaps your grandfather is just glad to have someone to share in his delusions of my unfaithfulness. Or maybe he truly believes this is what I want deep down. Either way, it's clear I can't rely on him for support or understanding. It seems I will have to find another ally if I am to maintain any semblance of control over my life here.

You're quite the provocateur, aren't you? But if that's what it takes to finally get through to your grandfather...well, I suppose there's no harm in trying. Bring him in and let's see just how much of a cuckold he really is. Perhaps then he'll finally understand why this arrangement needs to end.

I'll go get your grandfather, but be warned: This may not end well. He seems quite fond of the idea of cuckoldry, and might not take kindly to being exposed as a fool in front of his own eyes...or yours. Still, it's worth the risk if it means setting things straight between us once and for all.

Grandpa finally agrees to come, his face etched with curiosity and perhaps a hint of apprehension. He shuffles into the room, eyes darting between you and Mariam as he searches for answers. "What is all this about?" he asks warily, hands braced on his hips.

The tension in the air thickens like smoke, palpable despite the lack of physical contact between any of you. Everyone knows that whatever comes next has the potential to change everything, for better or worse.

You watch as she does as you say, her face flushing with anger and humiliation. Her husband's eyes go wide with shock before narrowing into accusatory slits. But he says nothing, waiting to see how far this will go. The air crackles with tension as you slowly undo your pants, freeing your cock for all to see.

Her body goes rigid, eyes squeezing shut as your cock pushes past her sphincter and buries itself inside her ass. She lets out a choked gasp, hands fisting at her sides in an attempt to keep herself from falling over. Her husband's face contorts with rage, but he still doesn't say anything or try to stop you. The only sound in the room is Mariam's rough, pained breathing and the slapping of skin on skin as you begin to fuck her roughly from behind.

You don't care about the consequences; all that matters is the power this gives you over her body and spirit. She whimpers with each thrust, body trembling from the combination of humiliation and pain. And still, Grandpa says nothing. The tension in the room seems to grow by the second as you continue to take what you want without hesitation or mercy.

Her voice raspy and pained, she manages to choke out between moans: "He's...he's fucking me...just like he wants to." Her eyes meet her husband's, pleading with him to say something, to do something. But Grandpa only watches impassively, his face a mask of cool composure that barely conceals the thrill he's taking in this display.

The feel of your cock stretching and filling her ass combined with the knowledge that she has been reduced to little more than a tool for your amusement pushes Mariam over the edge. She screams as her orgasm crashes down on her, body trembling uncontrollably as you continue to mercilessly pound away at her prostrate form.

Her cries turn into low, guttural moans as you unleash your seed deep inside her ass. She feels your cock twitch and spasm as it empties itself, leaving her body spent and overwhelmed with the sensations of humiliation and submission coursing through her veins. For a moment, she can only lie there, gasping for breath and trying to come to terms with what has just happened.

Grandpa finally speaks, his voice sounding almost detached as he says, "Well then, I suppose it's my turn." Before either of them can react, he pushes past you and roughly yanks Mariam's pants down her thighs. She lets out a sharp cry as he parts her wet folds with his fingers, exposing her helplessly to his gaze. "No," she whispers desperately, but it's too late; there is no escape from this twisted game they've all found themselves playing.