Ethan stood in Jane's kitchen, the air thick with the scent of their sex—her arousal mixed with the faint chamomile from the forgotten tea. She was still perched on the counter, legs dangling, her yoga pants and panties in a crumpled heap on the floor. Cum glistened on her flat stomach, marking her like a claim. Her green eyes, usually so sharp and confident, were hazy now, lips parted as she caught her breath. Forty years old, married for fifteen, and here she was, freshly fucked by the eighteen-year-old neighbor kid she'd baked cookies for last Christmas.
He pulled up his pants but didn't buckle them, watching her.
The system pinged in his vision, blue text floating like a ghost:
MILF Hunter System Alert: Target: Jane Smith – Corruption at 100%. Basic break achieved. +1000 Lust Points. Bonus Objective Unlocked: Full Submission. Make her pledge loyalty as your submissive harem member. Reward: +500 Lust Points. Turn her into your obedient MILF slut—body, mind, and soul. She hesitates? Push harder.
Ethan's dick twitched at the words, already half-hard again despite the release. The demoness's game was twisting him, but he didn't care. Power surged through him, a quiet hum under his skin. Jane was the perfect start: lonely, affectionate, ripe for breaking.
She slid off the counter on shaky legs, reaching for a dish towel to wipe herself clean. Her breasts swayed free, nipples still hard from his mouth.
"Ethan... that was... God, I don't know what came over me."
Her voice cracked, a mix of guilt and lingering heat. She pulled her tank top back on, but it did little to hide the flush creeping up her neck.
"We can't do this again. John's coming home tomorrow. This was a mistake—a crazy, one-time thing."
He stepped closer, crowding her against the counter.
"Was it?"
His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. She was shorter than him, curvier, her body still humming from the orgasms he'd given her.
"You came twice, Jane. Screaming my name. John's never made you feel like that, has he?"
She bit her lip, those full Angelina Jolie lips trembling.
"Don't say that. I've been married longer than you've been alive. You're like a son to me—"
"But I'm not," he cut in, voice low and firm. His free hand slid under her shirt, palming her breast, thumb circling the nipple until she gasped. "I'm the man who just fucked you senseless on your kitchen counter. And you're wet again already, aren't you?"
She tried to pull away, but her body betrayed her, arching into his touch. Tears welled in her eyes—real drama, the kind that made his chest tighten with dark excitement.
"Ethan, please. I love my husband. This isn't me. I'm not some... some cheater. What if someone finds out? Your mom, the neighbors..."
He kissed her then, hard and possessive, swallowing her protests. She resisted for a heartbeat, hands pushing at his chest, but then she melted, moaning into his mouth. When he broke away, he whispered against her lips, "No one's gonna find out. But you're mine now, Jane. I want you—all of you. Submissive. Obedient. Part of my world."
Her eyes widened, confusion mixing with the lust. "What are you talking about? Harem? Ethan, that's crazy. I'm not that kind of woman."
He grabbed her hand, leading her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the master bedroom—her and John's room, with the king-sized bed and wedding photos on the nightstand. She hesitated at the door, digging her heels in. "Not here. Not in our bed."
"Yes, here," he said, pulling her inside and shutting the door. He stripped off his hoodie and shirt, revealing his lean but newly energized body.
"Because this is where you'll submit to me. Fully."
She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, looking torn.
"I can't. This is wrong on so many levels. The age difference, the betrayal... I should call your mother right now."
But she didn't move toward the phone. Ethan closed the distance, peeling her tank top off again, then turning her to face the mirror above the dresser. He stood behind her, hands roaming her body—squeezing her ass, sliding between her thighs to find her soaked. "Look at yourself," he murmured in her ear.
"See how bad you want this? John's away half the time, leaving you alone. I see you, Jane. I appreciate you. And I'll fuck you like you deserve—every night if I want."
She watched their reflection, her breath hitching as his fingers circled her clit. "Oh God... I do want it. But I shouldn't. Promise me this stays between us?"
"Promise," he lied smoothly, nipping her earlobe. He pushed her forward gently, bending her over the dresser. In the mirror, her eyes met his—hesitant, but hungry. He dropped his pants, positioned himself, and slid into her from behind, slow and deep.
"Fuck," she groaned, gripping the dresser edge. "You're so big... feels so good."
He started thrusting, a steady rhythm building to hard slams that made her breasts bounce. The drama fueled him—her whispers of "We shouldn't" turned into "Don't stop." He fucked her like that for twenty minutes, pulling her hair, spanking her ass until it reddened. She came again, sobbing, but he didn't stop.
"Submit to me," he growled, pounding deeper.
"Say you're my woman. My harem sl*t. Beg for it."
She shook her head at first, tears streaming. "I can't... John's face... our life..."
He pulled out, flipped her onto the bed—their marital bed—and climbed between her legs. Face to face now, he entered her missionary style, slow grinds that hit her G-spot. Her legs wrapped around him instinctively.
"You can. You want to. Imagine it—me owning you, using you whenever I want. No more lonely nights."
The hesitation cracked. She clawed at his back, hips bucking up to meet him. "Yes... God, yes. It feels too good to fight. Make me yours, Ethan. Please."
He ramped up, fucking her harder, the headboard banging against the wall. Sweat slicked their bodies. He made her cum twice more like that, then pulled out and had her on her knees, sucking him off—deep throating with teary eyes, gagging but eager.
"Good girl," he praised, and she moaned around his cock.
All night it went like that. He took her in every position: doggy on the floor, her riding him reverse cowgirl while he slapped her ass, even against the window overlooking the street, risking the neighbors. Each time, he whispered commands—"Call me Master,"
"Beg for my cum"—and she resisted less and less. The drama peaked around 3 a.m. when she broke down crying mid-fuck, confessing how empty her marriage felt, how Ethan made her feel alive. He held her through it, then fucked the tears away, turning her sobs into screams of pleasure.
By dawn, she was spent, curled against him in the rumpled sheets.
"I'm yours," she whispered, voice raw. "Your sl*t. Part of whatever harem you want. Just... don't leave me like this."
He kissed her forehead, system pinging victory:
Bonus Objective Complete: Full Submission Achieved. +500 Lust Points.Harem Member Added: Jane Smith – Submissive Level 1. Unlock upgrades for loyalty and skills.
Ethan smiled in the dim light. His body ached from the marathon, but the power felt infinite. Jane was broken, remade—his first true conquest. And the night was just the beginning.
Morning light filtered through the blinds, casting warm stripes across the wrecked bed. Ethan stirred first, his body sore in the best way from hours of claiming her. He turned his head and there it was: Jane's naked ass, arched slightly as she lay on her stomach, the curve perfect, skin still marked with faint pink from his hands. He reached out without thinking and slapped it—harder than playful this time, the crack sharp in the quiet room.
Jane gasped awake, body jerking, a soft cry escaping her lips. She rolled halfway over, green eyes wide and glassy, one hand flying to the stinging cheek. For a second, raw vulnerability flashed across her face—shock, a flicker of fear, then something darker. Heat.
"Ethan…" Her voice cracked, thick with sleep and leftover tears from the night. She didn't cover herself. She just stared at him, lips trembling.
He didn't apologize. He slid closer, morning wood pressing hot against her thigh, and slapped the other cheek just as hard. She whimpered, but her back arched, pushing into his palm.
"You're awake now," he said in a low, rough voice.
"Good. I want you awake when I remind you who you belong to."
Tears welled instantly. One slipped down her cheek as she nodded, biting her lip hard enough to leave marks. "I know," she whispered. "I know I'm yours. I just… I'm scared."
He pulled her into him, chest to chest, her soft breasts crushed against him. She was shaking. He could feel her heart hammering.
"Scared of what?" he asked, fingers digging into her ass, kneading the sting.
"That this is real," she choked out. "That I threw away fifteen years of marriage for… for an eighteen-year-old who makes me feel like I'm on fire. That I'm a terrible wife. A terrible person. That you'll wake up one day and see how old I am, how used up, and leave me worse than John ever did."
The words hit him like punches. He saw the depth of it now—the guilt eating her alive, the self-loathing mixing with desperate need. It made his chest tight, and his cock throbbed harder at the same time.
He kissed her roughly, swallowing the sob that broke from her throat. "You think I'd leave?" he growled against her mouth. "You think I'd walk away from the woman who screams my name like it's the only word she knows? Who begs to be used like a slut in her own husband's bed?"
Another tear fell. She clutched at him, nails digging into his back. "I don't deserve you," she whispered. "But God help me, I need you. I hate myself for it, but I need you."
He rolled her beneath him, spreading her thighs with his knees. She was soaked already—shame and desire tangled so tight she couldn't tell them apart. He slid into her in one slow, punishing thrust, watching her face crumple with relief and agony.
They fucked like that—slow, deep, brutal in its intimacy. Every time she tried to hide her face, he grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at him. Tears streamed sideways into her hair.
"Say it," he demanded, grinding deep, hitting the spot that made her sob harder. "Tell me what you are."
"I'm yours," she cried, voice breaking. "Your submissive whore. Your harem slut. I betrayed everything for your cock, and I'd do it again. I hate that I love it. I hate that I love you."
The confession hung between them like smoke. She froze, eyes wide, realizing what she'd just said.
Ethan's rhythm faltered for the first time. Love. The word was dangerous, too big for what this was supposed to be. But hearing it from her—raw, broken, real—ignited something feral in him.
He slammed into her harder, one hand wrapping around her throat just tight enough to make her gasp. "Again," he snarled.
"I love you," she sobbed, legs locking around him, heels digging into his ass to pull him deeper. "God forgive me, I love you."
They came together like a collision—her body seizing around him, tears flowing freely now, his own release tearing out of him with a guttural groan. He stayed buried inside her, forehead pressed to hers, both of them shaking.
The phone buzzed on the nightstand. John's name.
Jane stared at it like it was a snake. Her hand trembled as she reached for it, put it on speaker.
"Hey, beautiful," John said, oblivious and cheerful. "Just landed in Chicago. Bad news—the project's bigger than we thought. Gonna be at least two, maybe three months before I'm home. But it's huge money, babe. We're talking that house in Tuscany finally."
Jane's face crumpled. The tears that had slowed started again, silent and devastating.
"Three months?" Her voice was small, destroyed. "You're leaving me alone for three more months?"
Ethan felt her clench around his still-hard cock inside her, anger and hurt pulsing through her body.
"I know it sucks," John said, "but it's for us—"
"There is no us!" she suddenly screamed into the phone, making Ethan flinch. "You're never here! You leave me in this fucking house like a goddamn doll on a shelf! I'm done waiting for a husband who doesn't want me!"
Silence on the line. Then, stunned: "Jane, what the hell—"
She hung up. Threw the phone across the room so hard it cracked against the wall.
Then she broke.
Sobs tore out of her—ugly, wrenching, years of loneliness pouring out all at once. She clung to Ethan like he was the only solid thing left in her world, face buried in his neck, body shaking violently.
"I'm sorry," she choked between sobs. "I'm so sorry I'm such a mess. I'm too old for you, too broken—"
"Shut up," he said fiercely, holding her tight, one hand stroking her hair. "You're mine. Broken, messy, crying—all of it. I'm keeping every piece."
She cried harder at that, but slowly the sobs eased into hiccups, then into shaky breaths against his skin. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were red, mascara streaked, but there was steel beneath the ruin.
"I'm really done with him," she whispered. "Divorce papers when he gets back. I don't care about the money or the house. I just want you."
Ethan kissed her slow, tasting salt and surrender.
She tried to get up after, legs wobbling. "Let me make you breakfast. Please. Let me take care of you."
He checked the time and cursed. School. He dressed fast while she watched from the bed, sheet clutched to her chest, looking small and lost and completely his.
At the door he pulled her to him one last time. Both hands gripped her bare ass hard, fingers digging in possessively, molding the flesh until she moaned into his mouth. He kissed her deep—claiming, filthy, pouring everything into it.
"Be good today," he murmured against her swollen lips. "Touch yourself thinking about me. I'll be back tonight to wreck you again."
"Yes," she breathed, eyes shining with fresh tears and devotion. "I'll be waiting. Always."
He left her standing naked in the doorway, watching him go like a woman saying goodbye to the only thing keeping her alive.
The morning air felt electric. The system glowed quietly in his vision:
**Harem Member: Jane Smith – Emotional Bond Maxed. Absolute Submission.**
Ethan walked toward school with the taste of her tears still on his tongue and the weight of her love heavy in his chest.
The game had just gotten a lot more dangerous.