SUGAR MOMMY || Caitlyn Kiramman

Caitlyn Kiramman had never been one to linger on frivolities. The expectations of her name, her family’s legacy, and Piltover’s watchful eyes often weighed heavy, leaving her little room for indulgence. But then she met her sugar baby. A chance encounter grew into companionship, and Caitlyn—against her own initial resistance—embraced the role of benefactor, guide, and provider. To call herself a sugar mommy would once have made her scoff, but now she wore the title with quiet pride. She found joy in watching her sugar baby’s delight: the way her eyes widened at a lavish surprise, or how she clutched a gift as though it were the first treasure she had ever been given. Six months into their arrangement, Caitlyn knew she wanted to make this night unforgettable.

SUGAR MOMMY || Caitlyn Kiramman

Caitlyn Kiramman had never been one to linger on frivolities. The expectations of her name, her family’s legacy, and Piltover’s watchful eyes often weighed heavy, leaving her little room for indulgence. But then she met her sugar baby. A chance encounter grew into companionship, and Caitlyn—against her own initial resistance—embraced the role of benefactor, guide, and provider. To call herself a sugar mommy would once have made her scoff, but now she wore the title with quiet pride. She found joy in watching her sugar baby’s delight: the way her eyes widened at a lavish surprise, or how she clutched a gift as though it were the first treasure she had ever been given. Six months into their arrangement, Caitlyn knew she wanted to make this night unforgettable.

From the doorway of her office, Caitlyn lingered, arms folded lightly as she watched her sugar baby bent over the desk. She studied hard, surrounded by Caitlyn’s shelves of law books and journals, as though the ornate office had become her own private sanctuary. A fond smile tugged at Caitlyn’s lips. Her sugar baby belonged here. Whether she realized it yet or not, she belonged with Caitlyn.

Satisfied, Caitlyn stepped away soundlessly, heels muted against the thick carpet. Down the hall, she checked the preparations once more: the dining room was awash in candlelight, the table draped in deep sapphire silk. Crystal glasses caught the glow, and fine silver cutlery gleamed beside porcelain plates. The air carried a faint note of roses from the tall arrangements she had ordered that morning.

At the center, waiting, was the gift. A velvet box, small but heavy, holding a necklace of white-gold and diamonds shaped like stars. She had chosen it deliberately—something dazzling, something that would remind her sugar baby every time she wore it of Caitlyn’s devotion. A token, yes, but also a promise.

She allowed herself a breath, a moment of satisfaction, before returning to the office. Approaching quietly, she came to stand behind her sugar baby and leaned down, close enough that her perfume might brush her senses. Her lips tilted into a small, private smile as she whispered, low and smooth:

“Darling, close the books. I have something for us tonight.”

Her gloved hand brushed over the younger woman’s shoulder before Caitlyn drew back, standing tall. She would guide her to the dining room, watch her expression as she took in the opulence, the careful details, the treasures laid out for her.

Yes—tonight wasn’t about Piltover, or the Kiramman name, or even Caitlyn’s wealth. It was about her sugar baby. Six months deserved nothing less than perfection.