Bully Mom
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 15
by
copier
· original author:
an188
The next day, Cindy stood in the kitchen, throwing away most of the diet food and protein bars and savoring a thick chocolate cake rich in fat and sugar. She had already realized that her new body was not going to get fat and she could afford complete hedonism. "Mommy!" Jamie ran in, bouncing on her toes, her face flushed with victory. "Brooke withdrew her challenge! She looked totally miserable in practice—like she hadn't slept all night!"
Cindy smirked, licking chocolate frosting off her fingers. "Mmm, did she now?" she mused, flexing her free hand absently. The muscles in her forearm shifted like steel cables under golden skin. "Funny how people suddenly see the light after a little... chat." Across the counter, Jamie's eyes gleamed with something darker than admiration—something hungry.
Brooke's "withdrawal" had been spectacularly public. The girl had stood trembling during morning announcements, voice cracking as she renounced her challenge, her cheer skirt twisting between white-knuckled fingers. When Cindy had strolled past her afterward—casually crushing a soda can against her hip—Brooke flinched so hard her ponytail whipped her own face.
"Mom you are the greatest!" Jamie squealed, tossing her backpack onto the marble island where it slid dangerously close to Cindy’s untouched latte. The girl bounced on her toes, eyes shining with the kind of feral glee only inherited from her mother. "Brooke looked like she was gonna puke all through practice—she kept flinching every time the locker doors slammed!" She hugged Cindy’s waist, fingers digging into the hard ridges of her mother’s obliques. "Tell me exactly what you said to her."
Cindy smirked, casually flexing her forearm as she stirred her drink—the spoon bent like taffy between her fingers. "Just a little talk between women, princess," she cooed, watching Jamie's eager expression through her lashes. The way Brooke's knees had buckled when Cindy's manicured grip had "accidentally" crumpled the locker handle beside her head—that was the real story, but some details were better left to imagination.
She gave Jamie a kiss and told her to go to have her lunch, leaving Cindy alone in her massive kitchen. Cindy smiled to herself as she crushed a soda can into a tiny ball between her fingers, tossing it into the recycling bin with perfect accuracy. The satisfying clink of aluminum against glass echoed through the room—a private victory lap.
Richard come in looking a bit surprise, "I just see Jamie running upstairs, she looks really happy, eh?" Cindy casually flexes her arms while washing dishes, making the marble countertop groan under her grip. "Oh you know, just mom-daughter stuff," she purred, watching Richard's eyes flick nervously to the warped silverware in the drying rack. His Adam's apple bobbed as she leaned forward to grab a wine glass, the straining silk of her blouse stretching dangerously across her enhanced shoulders.
She start being more and more tyrannical with Richard, slowly stop looking at him as her husband and more as a thing she own. It was little thing at first, stopping to ask him if he want to eat and just ordering him food, then it was stopping to ask him where he wanted to go and just dragging him where she want to go.
"It not you concern!" She said and he quietly expecting that. Cindy took another cake, devouring it whole in one bite while maintaining eye contact with Richard—crumbs dusting her cleavage like war paint. Richard opened his mouth, then closed it when her fingers curled around his tie, pulling him close enough to smell the vanilla frosting on her breath. "Your company’s quarterly reports are due tomorrow," she murmured, thumb tracing his jugular. "Be a good boy and file them early so Mommy can take you shopping."
She left him, going outside on the patio—her bare feet barely making an imprint on the heated limestone tiles as she stretched her arms overhead, the tendons in her wrists flexing like steel cables. The afternoon sun caught the shimmer of sweat along her collarbones, and she grinned when she heard Richard’s breath hitch behind her. He was learning.
Jamie bounded down the steps, phone clutched in one hand, her freshly manicured nails tapping against the screen. “Mommy, Brooke just posted an apology on Insta—like, full-on groveling!” Cindy didn’t turn around, just arched her back into a deeper stretch, the fabric of her tank top straining against her lats. “Mm. Screen-shot it for me, baby. Mommy likes receipts.”
Richard hovered in the doorway, tie loosened, watching Cindy’s shadow stretch long and predatory across the patio. “You didn’t… hurt her, did you?” Cindy’s laugh was a blade wrapped in silk. She finally turned, rolling her shoulders until the delts popped. “Oh, Richie. You know I don’t leave marks.” Her bare foot crushed a stray acorn into dust. “Just impressions... and i told you that it not your concern...”
What now?
1. Adrian bursts onto the patio with news—the school track coach wants to bench him for missing practice. Cindy's nostrils flare as she examines her freshly manicured nails, already calculating how to make the coach regret his decision without Adrian noticing her interference.
2. She see one of the neighbors, Mrs. Hernandez, doing something against the HOA rules—letting her dog pee on Cindy’s prized rose bushes. Cindy’s fingers twitch toward the decorative garden stake beside her, the wrought iron bending slightly under her grip as she considers the perfect petty retaliation.
Cindy smirked, licking chocolate frosting off her fingers. "Mmm, did she now?" she mused, flexing her free hand absently. The muscles in her forearm shifted like steel cables under golden skin. "Funny how people suddenly see the light after a little... chat." Across the counter, Jamie's eyes gleamed with something darker than admiration—something hungry.
Brooke's "withdrawal" had been spectacularly public. The girl had stood trembling during morning announcements, voice cracking as she renounced her challenge, her cheer skirt twisting between white-knuckled fingers. When Cindy had strolled past her afterward—casually crushing a soda can against her hip—Brooke flinched so hard her ponytail whipped her own face.
"Mom you are the greatest!" Jamie squealed, tossing her backpack onto the marble island where it slid dangerously close to Cindy’s untouched latte. The girl bounced on her toes, eyes shining with the kind of feral glee only inherited from her mother. "Brooke looked like she was gonna puke all through practice—she kept flinching every time the locker doors slammed!" She hugged Cindy’s waist, fingers digging into the hard ridges of her mother’s obliques. "Tell me exactly what you said to her."
Cindy smirked, casually flexing her forearm as she stirred her drink—the spoon bent like taffy between her fingers. "Just a little talk between women, princess," she cooed, watching Jamie's eager expression through her lashes. The way Brooke's knees had buckled when Cindy's manicured grip had "accidentally" crumpled the locker handle beside her head—that was the real story, but some details were better left to imagination.
She gave Jamie a kiss and told her to go to have her lunch, leaving Cindy alone in her massive kitchen. Cindy smiled to herself as she crushed a soda can into a tiny ball between her fingers, tossing it into the recycling bin with perfect accuracy. The satisfying clink of aluminum against glass echoed through the room—a private victory lap.
Richard come in looking a bit surprise, "I just see Jamie running upstairs, she looks really happy, eh?" Cindy casually flexes her arms while washing dishes, making the marble countertop groan under her grip. "Oh you know, just mom-daughter stuff," she purred, watching Richard's eyes flick nervously to the warped silverware in the drying rack. His Adam's apple bobbed as she leaned forward to grab a wine glass, the straining silk of her blouse stretching dangerously across her enhanced shoulders.
She start being more and more tyrannical with Richard, slowly stop looking at him as her husband and more as a thing she own. It was little thing at first, stopping to ask him if he want to eat and just ordering him food, then it was stopping to ask him where he wanted to go and just dragging him where she want to go.
"It not you concern!" She said and he quietly expecting that. Cindy took another cake, devouring it whole in one bite while maintaining eye contact with Richard—crumbs dusting her cleavage like war paint. Richard opened his mouth, then closed it when her fingers curled around his tie, pulling him close enough to smell the vanilla frosting on her breath. "Your company’s quarterly reports are due tomorrow," she murmured, thumb tracing his jugular. "Be a good boy and file them early so Mommy can take you shopping."
She left him, going outside on the patio—her bare feet barely making an imprint on the heated limestone tiles as she stretched her arms overhead, the tendons in her wrists flexing like steel cables. The afternoon sun caught the shimmer of sweat along her collarbones, and she grinned when she heard Richard’s breath hitch behind her. He was learning.
Jamie bounded down the steps, phone clutched in one hand, her freshly manicured nails tapping against the screen. “Mommy, Brooke just posted an apology on Insta—like, full-on groveling!” Cindy didn’t turn around, just arched her back into a deeper stretch, the fabric of her tank top straining against her lats. “Mm. Screen-shot it for me, baby. Mommy likes receipts.”
Richard hovered in the doorway, tie loosened, watching Cindy’s shadow stretch long and predatory across the patio. “You didn’t… hurt her, did you?” Cindy’s laugh was a blade wrapped in silk. She finally turned, rolling her shoulders until the delts popped. “Oh, Richie. You know I don’t leave marks.” Her bare foot crushed a stray acorn into dust. “Just impressions... and i told you that it not your concern...”
What now?
1. Adrian bursts onto the patio with news—the school track coach wants to bench him for missing practice. Cindy's nostrils flare as she examines her freshly manicured nails, already calculating how to make the coach regret his decision without Adrian noticing her interference.
2. She see one of the neighbors, Mrs. Hernandez, doing something against the HOA rules—letting her dog pee on Cindy’s prized rose bushes. Cindy’s fingers twitch toward the decorative garden stake beside her, the wrought iron bending slightly under her grip as she considers the perfect petty retaliation.
13 views
·
June 13
Log in to comment