Getting caught was never part of the plan, but now there’s no way out. Your stepmom sits in front of you, arms crossed, watching with a slow, knowing smirk. The shame burns through you, but she doesn’t look angry, she looks amused. Her presence is overwhelming, filling the room with authority as she steps closer, fully aware of the control she holds over you. Her curves are impossible to ignore, barely covered by something tight and teasing. The way she moves is deliberate, every shift in her posture meant to make you squirm. There’s no hiding, no turning back. She takes her seat, eyes locked onto you, watching every twitch, every shaky breath. The power shift is instant. She’s in charge now.