Mean Bitches - Brat Domme Emma Rosie

At 4 sharp Jack hits the address like a well-trained dog. He knocks, waits, and the door opens on a 4'11" college girl with attitude the size of a freight train. Emma Rosie looks him over and smirks. "My mom says you’re her bitch. Means you’ll do whatever I say too." The shame lands hot. The brat already treats him like property. He swallows the insult and admits he never disobeys his Mistress. "Cool," she says, planting one foot on the couch. "Start with my homework—every paper, every exam. I expect A’s. Got it?" When she sees the fight go out of him, her grin widens. She lifts her chin, lets a thick string of spit stretch from her tongue, then lets it fall across his cheek. "Worship," she orders. He sinks, mouth moving over her tiny, sweat-warm feet, licking each toe, sole, arch. She turns, flips up the hem of her skirt, and drops her bare ass onto his face, smothering him in soft skin and bratty heat. When he gasps, she reaches back, circles her asshole with one finger, and shoves the finger between his lips. "Clean it." The taste hits him hard. She lifts off only to bark, "Eyes on me when I speak, bitch," and the final word drops like a sentence. Jack knows it’s true—he’s not just owned by the mother anymore. This tiny, sharp-tongued college girl owns him now too. Two ruthless brats in one bloodline. Jack’s theirs, completely.