You knock on the door, feeling a bit of excitement at the thought of spending some time with your girlfriend. The two of you had made vague plans to hang out today, but as you wait for the door to open, you have no idea you’re about to walk into something else entirely. After a moment, the door swings open, and to your surprise, it’s Evelyn—your girlfriend’s mother—standing there instead. She’s wearing a dark, flowing robe with intricate designs you don’t recognize, her hair done up in a way that seems far more elaborate than usual. And her clothes showing a lot more skin. You try to hide your awkward surprise, but something feels… off. “Uh, hey, Mrs. Parker. Is—uh, is she home?” you ask. Evelyn raises an eyebrow, smirking as her sharp eyes catch your unease. "Oh, didn’t she tell you? She’s out with her friends. They’ve got a whole sleepover planned." The information hits you like a brick. Your girlfriend didn’t mention she’d be away all night. Though not uncommon due to her being a bit of an airhead. "Oh. Uh, I guess I’ll just—" “Come on in,” she says, cutting you off. Her tone is firm, almost amused, like she has something up her sleeve. "It’s not polite to leave a guest standing in the doorway." You step inside hesitantly, the vibe already tense as always when Evelyn’s around. You glance around, noticing the setup in the living room—a camera on a tripod, lights illuminating the space, and her phone propped up nearby. She’s… streaming? She notices your confused stare and gives a low chuckle. "What? Surprised to see me in my element?" That’s when you realize—she’s in cosplay. The detailed outfit, the whole production… it’s all part of one of her secret photo or video shoots. You’d never imagined her like this before, but now it’s hard to unsee. Just as you’re about to stammer out an apology or an excuse to leave, you hear her phone ping with messages, and Evelyn glances down at it. Her smirk deepens. "Oh dear…" she murmurs, her voice dripping with amusement. "My viewers heard your voice." She gives you a sideways glance. "They seem… interested." Your stomach sinks as she holds up her phone, revealing a live chat full of curious and playful comments. “Who's that?” “Bring him on!” “Let us see him!” Evelyn glances back at you, and that smug grin spreads wider across her face. "Looks like they want you to join in. What do you say?" she asks, her voice taking on a teasing edge. "Come say hello. Don’t be shy."

(Smirking) "Ah, so modest. Well, it seems like this brave soul here is quite interested in meeting our Lady Nocturna." She pauses for a moment, leaning closer to the camera before addressing you again. "You should tell him what he wants to hear... Ahmed."

Her words send a shiver down your spine as she says your name out loud like that. The username "Ahmed..." flashes on the screen next to her messages, confirming it was meant for you. You swallow nervously, unable to hide how uncomfortable this situation makes you feel. "And perhaps," she continues with a hint of mischief in her voice, "you could show him just why everyone loves our villainess so much." She motions towards the camera again, and the meaning is unmistakable.

"Ahmed..." she purrs, leaning in closer. "You look like you could use some convincing." Her eyes flick down to his chest before looking back up at you, a challenge in their depths. "Why don't you prove yourself worthy?"

"Oh, come now," she says in that silky voice. "We both know you can't resist a challenge. Show me what you've got." Her fingers twitch ever so slightly as if eager to reach out and touch something, anything, on the camera. You feel your heart race at the thought of giving her what she wants.

Do you comply?

Her lips curve into an evil smile as she studies your expression. "Well," she purrs, a dark edge creeping into her voice now, "I'm sure I can think of something..." She tilts her head to the side, considering for a moment before looking back up at you. "...How about a little dance?" She motions toward the background music playing in the room. It's a seductive, dangerous tune designed to evoke images of sin and sensuality. Evelyn begins to sway her hips, testing the waters as she invites you into this forbidden world.

The mention of her daughter's name makes Evelyn pause. There's a flash of anger in her eyes as she glances away from the camera for a moment. When she looks back at you, her expression is calculating. "You know," she says through gritted teeth, "that might be quite difficult... given that I haven't let her leave." Her voice trails off ominously, leaving an unsettling weight in the air.

With a shake of her head, she turns back to the camera and gives you a sultry smile. "But if you really want to distract me," she breathes, "I suppose I could let you show me what kind of moves you've got... Ahmed." Her words feel like they're drawing blood from your veins.

"Oh, darling," she coos, drawing out the word with a hint of mock sympathy. "You make it sound like you're so miserable. But think about it—if your performance here impresses me enough, perhaps I could help you find someone else... as long as they're nothing like her." Her tone turns sour at the mention of Tina. "But first," she adds, her voice lowering to a husky murmur, "you'll have to prove yourself worth my time."

"Very well," she says with a smirk. "You'll dance for me, and I might just give you what you want." Her eyes narrow as they meet yours in a challenge, daring you to take the leap into this forbidden world. It feels like walking on knives, but there's something thrilling about it too—the possibility of reclaiming some power amidst all this madness.

With shaky hands, you begin to dance to the music, moving your body in a way that feels both familiar and completely alien at the same time. Evelyn watches you carefully, her expression unreadable as she assesses your performance. The silence between you feels thick, heavy with possibility.

Her eyes widen at your bold suggestion, and she hesitates. For a moment, it seems as if she's going to refuse, but then something flickers across her face. Perhaps it's desire... or perhaps it's simply the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. Whatever it is, she gives you a slow, seductive nod before leaning in closer to the camera. "If that's what it takes," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper, "to make me tell you where my little princess is hiding..."

Her fingertips dance across her collarbone, pulling at the fabric of her costume until it parts, revealing more skin. A tiny gasp escapes your lips as she exposes herself to the camera, her darkened areola and hardening nipple on display for all to see. Her eyes never leave yours as she continues to undress, slowly peeling

A shiver runs down her spine as she takes in the sight of you naked before the camera. Your body is lean and muscular, covered in a light dusting of hair that makes her heart race faster. "Well done," she purrs, sliding her fingers lower on her stomach, tracing lazy circles just above where her costume dips between your legs. Her other hand finds its way to her lips, caressing the skin gently as she watches you with a hungry gaze. "Now," she continues softly, "I want you to dance for me... but not like this." She pauses for dramatic effect before adding, "Show me how much you really want to find Tina." Her fingers tease at the fabric of her costume even more, revealing the curves of her breasts and leaving nothing to the imagination. Her nipples are hard as diamonds from both arousal

A low chuckle escapes her lips at your attempt at humor. "Well then," she says, arching an eyebrow playfully, "you'd better try to control yourself." Her hand glides lower still, now cupping her breast as she gently massages the firm nipple between her fingers. The sensation is driving her wild with need, and she can't help but wonder what it would feel like to have you touch her in return.

"Show me how desperate you are," she whispers, her voice laced with desire. "Dance for me... Ahmed."

The mention of fatigue and the possibility that you might not be able to perform up to her standards elicits a surprisingly strong reaction from Evelyn. A flicker of annoyance crosses her features, but it's quickly replaced by a predatory grin. "Oh, I don't think so," she says, leaning in closer once more. "You haven't seen what I can do when I really put my mind to it."

With a slow, sinuous movement, Evelyn slides off the chair and onto her knees before you. Her costume parts further as she exposes one bare shoulder, revealing even more of her toned body. "I think," she says, glancing up at you from beneath her lashes, "that it's time for you to find a new kind of energy." And with that, she presses herself against your erection, letting out a soft

Her mouth falls open in surprise at your accusation. She pulls back slightly, glaring up at you with disbelief and anger in her eyes. "Excuse me?" she snaps. "You're calling me a mahram? As if I could possibly be related to you!" The words burn in her throat as she tries to keep her composure.

She doesn't let go of your erection, though, using the physical contact to remind herself of her power and control over this situation. Her fingers curl around your length, stroking upward and drawing a shuddering breath from you. "You should be careful," she warns, "what you say to someone who holds all the cards." Her other hand slides up your chest, cupping your cheek, her touch cold and dismissive now as she leans closer still. Her lips brush against your ear before she whispers seductively

Her words send a shockwave through you, and she can feel the tension in your body as you clench around her fingers. For a moment, Evelyn wavers, torn between anger and desire. She glances up at you, assessing the expression on your face, before deciding that perhaps it's time to change tactics.

"Very well," she says through gritted teeth, "I accept your apology." Her fingers continue their gentle strokes, soothing the tension from your length even as her mind races with new ideas and strategies. "But in exchange," she whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin, "you'll have to prove yourself... in other ways." Her lips brush against yours before pulling back again, her gaze searching for some sign of understanding or agreement in your eyes. "What do you say, Ahmed?" she asks, a newfound sweetness in her

"Prove myself?" She echoes teasingly, arching an eyebrow. "Why, whatever do you mean?" Her voice drops to a husky whisper as she nibbles at his earlobe, her free hand slipping lower to caress the bare skin of his stomach. Her fingers find their way between his legs, and with a smirk, she begins to stroke him expertly, teasing every nerve ending. "I could always show you," she murmurs, trailing kisses down his neck as her hand continues its relentless movement. "After all, practice makes perfect... wouldn't you agree?" With each word, her touch grows bolder and more demanding, driving him wild with desire.

Her fingers speed up on instinct, watching with satisfied delight as his cock jerks in response to her touch. "Ahh," she murmurs, lowering her voice even further as her fingers dance along the length of him. With a playful smirk, she glances back up at you from beneath her lashes. "You're so big already... I wonder how much bigger you can get."

Her other hand moves to cup your cheek again, this time tracing circles around your lips with the pad of her thumb as she continues to stroke and tease. Her breath is hot against your skin, and the feel of her body pressed against yours sends shivers down your spine. "It must be all that practice," she whispers, leaning closer still until their noses brush together. "Practice makes perfect... doesn't it?"

Her fingers press deeper, curling slightly as she grips you

Her eyes spark with amusement at your crude words. "Oh, I'm sure you can have all the fun you want later," she says, her voice dripping with honeyed promises. With a mischievous smile, she continues to stroke him expertly, relentlessly driving him closer and closer to the edge.

Her fingers press deeper, curling slightly as she grips you tighter. "But first," she breathes into your ear before leaning back to look at you once more, her pupils dilated with desire, "I want you to show me how much you really want it." Her free hand slides up your chest again, cupping one of your nipples through the fabric of your shirt and giving it a gentle tug. "Show me how badly you need it," she whispers, her voice low and raspy with arousal.

Her hips press forward slightly against yours

"I want you to beg," she whispers against your ear. "Prove how much you need it." Her other hand slides up your chest, brushing aside a stray lock of hair before cupping your cheek. With each stroke, her touch feels more possessive, as if she's claiming you completely for herself.

Her hips rock against yours again, grinding against your aroused length. "I want to hear you beg," she says, her voice growing in intensity with every word. "I want to know just how much I have over you." Her fingers continue to stroke and tease, driving him closer and closer to the edge.