#gojo's mommy kink is once again front and center

[elsecrytt]

so things have been better at work lately.

after satoru gojo spends several hours on his knees, tears in his eyes, begging you to slap him in the face a second time, you're feeling confident that you're not going to lose your job.

you're also feeling better after your rent situation. satoru had finally convinced you to slap him again with a big, fat, thousand dollar bonus added on for each instance of physical contact.

you're kind of proud of how you pulled that one off.

"a hundred dollars? am i a joke to you?"

"what do you mean, five hundred per slap? i told you, my rent went up!"

"i still have other bills, satoru. what do you think groceries cost these days? how much is a banana, satoru? how much?"

considering all he ate was takeout and he never kept receipts or even listened to totals, it wasn't that difficult.

on the other hand, it was kind of messed up how drastically your life has changed now that you slapped your boss.

right now, you're cooking another lovingly homemade breakfast meal. french toast, glazed bacon, some picture-perfect omurice (it was pretty fun, trying to get it perfect)!

you enjoy cooking again. it looks so much more tasty knowing you're going to get a bite of it for yourself.

satoru sits, bright and eager, at the beautiful marble table you've laid so many (untouched) meals down on.

you relish how the excitement melts off his face when you set a bowl of cereal in front of him. sitting across to help yourself to your own meal which you cooked.

"hey!" he's quick to protest, of course, but shrivels under the weight of your glare.

"oh, don't be shy, satoru," you say evenly, "i know you don't like my cooking."

there's an awkward silence that follows. oh, sweet vindication.

almost as sweet as finally getting to eat your own cooking. god. you're mad at him all over again. this was awesome.

all those meals you worked so hard on... all that perfectly good food that went straight into the trash out of pure spite... oh, the joy that floods your chest as he looks at you like a kicked puppy.

"please?" he whines, "c'mon, i know i was a jerk! i promise i'll eat it this time!"

"will you?" your eyes narrow as you stand up, watching him tense as his eyes lock onto you.

good.

"on the floor," you say, pointing down. "lay down."

it's telling how quickly he moves to obey. god, you spent so much time catering to this little shit when you should have been telling him what to do.

you kick him in the side, and satoru yelps as your foot lifts up his side. still, he rolls over obediently, grumbling.

"you're so mean," he whines as you press down on his back.

that sends a little trickle of delight through you.

you're mean now, are you?

with him laying on his belly, you grab your half-finished omurice from the table, sitting yourself down on his ass.

and his ass looks a lot better in the jeans than it feels - satoru's a lean guy. but you make it work, straddling him, just enough that you could grind your crotch down against him... if you wanted to.

he groans at it, too, confirming just how hard he is.

you set the plate in front of his face.

"okay, satoru. you want some?" you grab him by the hair, pulling his head up, just on top of the plate, "eat."

another little bitch-moan comes out of his mouth, no doubt a complaint.

you shove his face forward, "i don't want to hear it. eat what's in front of you and be grateful for it."

his hips shift underneath you - the whore is grinding against the floor!

but you see his mouth moving, eating like you told him to.

after a few bites you pull him up, giving him time to swallow before you ask.

"well? how is it?" you can't keep the bitterness out of your voice, "does it belong in the trash?"

there's a warning tone, a frustration that sounds almost like motherly scolding.

it makes satoru about ten times harder.

"no," he simpers, leaning back forwards to take another bite.

like a dog on the leash, you stop him, hand in his hair.

"what do we say?"

satoru bites his lip. his cheeks are hot, flushed. "thank you for the meal~"

you let him back with a huff.

and try as you might to suppress it, there's something that heats your blood, too. something burning inside you at the sight of him eating like a dog, licking the plate clean.

devouring the meal you made for him like he can't get enough.

you tell yourself it's just satisfaction. seeing food not go to waste.

you distinctly ignore the pulse between your legs -

but it gets harder to, when satoru finally finishes his meal, spinning around underneath you.

he makes no attempt to push you off - instead, he pulls you against him closer, so you're straddling his hips.

grinding against his crotch. friction hot and delicious and pulling at something deep inside you.

crystal blue eyes looking up at you, all pretty and pleading.

pawing hands clasping over your thighs.

"please, madam housekeeper," he licks his lips, "may i have some more?"

...

...you're not about to fuck your boss... are you?