Mean!Southern!Wanda x Reader
TW: Slapping, kicking, abusive language
For @my-myserenity based on this anon suggestion. Also thank you to this diagram for helping me figure out words to use rather than saying “her boots” in every single sentence.
"I don't remember sayin' you could touch yourself," Wanda snapped, pulling you away from her cunt by the hair. She'd hardly been paying a lick of attention to you, watching tv and sipping on a glass of bourbon while you knelt between her legs. Still you were a fool for thinking you could get away with it. And of course, the moment you finally worked yourself to the brink was the exact moment she'd chosen to look down.
She put down her glass and yanked on your arm, pulling your hand from your underwear and inspecting your fingers.
"You little slut," she spat. "Thought you could get away with rubbin' yourself off without my permission. I oughta tan your hide."
She pulled your hair until your neck was strained, leaving you no choice but to meet her furious eyes.
"I'm sorry, mama!" You whined. "I just… your taste and… and you look so pretty with your dress hiked up like that. I-"
You were cut off by a hard slap across your cheek. "You got some nerve," she said. "Trying to make up excuses like you're anything but a desperate little whore too high on your mama's cunt to know any better."
Another slap. This time she grabbed your face, letting her nails bite into your jaw. "Say it. Tell me your my little whore."
"I-I'm your little whore," you cried. "Please, mama. I'll do anything. I-I'll ride your boot. I'll…"
You trailed off as she stood up, standing over you menacingly. You were sure you were done for. You were sure she was headed for the fireplace, where a rattan cane sat above the mantle, and you spend the rest of the evening wailing over her knee.
Instead, she put her boot to your sternum, pushing you backwards until you tumbled over. She kept her foot on your chest and bent down, resting her elbow on her knee. "Is this what you want?" Her tone sent a shiver down your spine.
When you didn't answer her, she pressed down harder until you instinctively grabbed her ankle to try and push her off.
"Yes! Yes!" You gasped breathlessly, feeling her weight crushing your lungs.
She stood back up, lifting her foot off your chest and kicking you in the side. "Is this what you want!?" She shouted, kicking you again in the stomach when you tried to turn away. Before you could answer, she pressed the outsole against your shoulder, shoving you down until you were flat on your back again.
She kicked your legs apart, leaving you helplessly exposed as she pressed the pointy toe of her boot against your clit. She pressed harder, grinding down until your back arched up off the hardwood. "Please mama! Oh god. Please…" you whined, writhing around on the ground. You were already so close after getting yourself worked up earlier. "Please mama. I… I'm so close. Please let me cum. Please let me- ah!"
She cut you off with another kick, this time right between your legs. Stars danced behind your eyes and you lunged forward, instinctively curling up on the ground and covering your swollen cunt with your hands.
"Stupid slut," Wanda scoffed, sitting back down on the couch and taking a sip of her previously forgotten bourbon.
It was nearly 5 minutes before you crawled back to her feet, sniffling back tears. "Mama," you cried pathetically, "pleaseeeee."
"What do you want?" She hissed.
"Please. I just wanna cum. Please mama. It hurts. Please let me cum," you begged through tears.
She didn't say anything, just slid her boot forward in a silent command.
You wasted no time, straddling the vamp and wrapping your arms around her calf. You rested your head on her knee, sobbing "thank you"s as you humped the pointy leather toe.
She rolled her eyes dismissively, but her hands threaded back into your hair, gently scratching your scalp.
When you finally came, you collapsed forward, slumping against her leg. You were still mumbling your gratitude as she grabbed you under the arms and pulled you up onto the couch. Your head lulled forward and your body went limp. Your brain was clearly fucked too stupid to think, so she decided she'd have to do it for you.
You whined as reached out for her and she stood up, leaving you alone on the couch. You grabbed the skirt of her dress, silently begging her not to go.
"Oh quit your gripin'" she said. "I'm just gonna get a washrag. I'll be back in two seconds."
Still, you didn't let go, looking up at her with with big, stupid, pleading eyes.
She rolled her eyes and groaned. "Fine," she conceded, reaching down and picking you up off the couch. "Come on. Up you go. Let's get you to bed."
You wrapped your legs around her waist and you're arms around her neck. "I love you, mama," you slurred, resting your head on her shoulder.
"Yeah yeah," she said, carefully supporting your weight. "I'm sure you do."
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