P
Powerless_
Guest
Dr. Oliver Thredson looked up at her, gently pressing his index finger against Feferi's lips, "Shhhh, it's okay mommy. You ARE what I'm looking for." You felt him lead you into a rocking chair. An old-fashioned, 1950s looking wooden piece of furniture... and you sat on it, "Hush little baby don't say a word..." Uhhhh. You felt his entire weight press against your lap, his fully grown ass holding you and tussling your hair.
"Mommy has soft hair..."
"I like it."
Uh oh. He isn't gunna take no for an answer.
Okay so this guy was not going to let her leave. Shoulders slumping in defeat, she scowled at him. He began to play with her hair, causing goosebumps to rise on her arms. "Now..uh..son?" What the fuck was this dude's name again? It would only make things worse if she went along with his game. "Why don't you let me get up, so I can put you down for a nap? You have had a tough day at work..right?" She was going to get out of here one way or another, but she was questioning things that mothers said. All she had ever known was throwing some dead lusus into the gaping maw of her 'mother' clicks of approval and the idea that if she didn't take care of her properly the whole world would explode. Which certainty didn't seem like something a normal human went through.