Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

Saturday evening settled over the city, the sky bruising purple as a distant rumble hinted at rain. Madhuri sat on her bed, her voice note, "I'm yours", and his reply, "KPHB, 8 PM", burned in her mind, a countdown she couldn't escape.

The doorbell rang, sharp and jarring, and she jolted, smoothing her Kurta as she descended, Ishaan and Abhi were gone, the house hers alone.

A delivery boy stood there, a small package in hand. "Mrs. Madhuri?" he asked, and she nodded, signing with trembling fingers.

Back in her room, she locked the door, heart pounding as she tore it open, rose petals spilled out, crimson and soft, with a folded letter and a sleek black box.

The letter read, in bold scrawl: "Wear this for me, mommy, show me you're mine. Else, I am gone. See you soon."

"So, the roses really are his doing" she burst out, the flashback clicking into place, her doubts igniting.

She lifted the box lid, a tight, short, red sheath dress, low-cut, and a Victoria's Secret lingerie set, black lace bra and panties, sheer and daring.

Her breath caught, the outfit a command she couldn't ignore. "What the hell is this?" she muttered, but her pussy clenched, imagining it on her, tight, exposing, his claim stitched into every thread.

She held the dress up, too small, it'd hug her 5'7" frame like a second skin, her curves screaming, and the lingerie dangled, a tease she'd never worn for Ramesh. Her phone buzzed, DevilzMask: "Got my gift, Darling?"

His voice in her head slow, dark: "Put it on right, so that I can shred it and lick down your spine, bite that ass till you're shaking, my dirty little prize"

Her knees buckled, and she whimpered, "What on earth is he planning to do with me?" but her hands moved, laying the dress on the bed, her fingers brushing the lace panties.

She typed back, weak: "This is too much, stop this"

But he replied, raw and wild: "Too much? No, my queen, I'd dbang you in that lace, kneel at your feet, worship that pussy with my tongue till you're dripping on my face. Wear it, or I'm gone. Don't worry about your safety, I'll be there for you." The chat died, his ultimatum a blade, and she sank to the floor, rose petals sticking to her thighs, fear screamed no, desire roared yes.

Madhuri clutched the lingerie, her volcano erupting in quiet gasps, 8 PM, three hours away, and the stalker's gift a leash tightening around her soul. She'd go, she knew it, blackmail or not, her body craved him, and the storm he'd brewed.