Mom Is A Slut Novels & Stories

I furrowed my brows again. "She was?" She nodded. I looked away as I thought of what to say. "It is a bad word, right?" I looked at her. "Um, forget about it, Vicky. It is just a dream, okay?" "But.....mom usually says that about you back at home." My heart tightened. "She said you are slut. That's why you are not living with us." I let out a breathless scoff as tears approached. I lowered my gaze as I recalled mom calling me a slut to my face countless times.

During a holiday, when I told my mother that my boyfriend would be coming to my house, her expression darkened. Tears welled up in her eyes as she touched my face and said in a hoarse voice, “Oh my God... Thank God you’re still alive. “Do you remember what day this is? This time, I’m not letting you die.” She acted as if she were possessed and screamed at me hysterically, “He’s a serial killer! We’ll all die if he comes today. Last time around, I was the only one left!” I believed her. I broke up with him and called the police to have him arrested. I let out a sigh of relief as I watched him get taken away, and my mother revealed a triumphant smile. She then said calmly, “That’s that.

Tall, muscular, confident guys in their thirties and forties who clearly knew exactly what my mother was: their personal neighborhood cumslut. The second the front door closed, Mom dropped to her knees in the middle of the living room like the eager whore she was. She was wearing nothing but a tiny black thong that was already soaked through. “God, I’ve been craving all of you,” she moaned, voice dripping with lust. “Six big cocks for your slutty mommy. Use every hole I have. Don’t be gentle.”

If you make her happy, I'll buy you some. A wave of anger washed over me, and I bit his hand hard. He let go instantly, and I crashed straight onto the floor. Mom rushed to pull me up immediately. He savagely stomped on the chocolate, crushing it into pieces. "Ungrateful little brat, exactly like your mother! Watch it, or I'll dump you both!" "Chris Nelson!" Mom finally snapped. She rushed forward and slapped him right across the face. "Why on earth should my daughter have to please a mistress?!"

I couldn't afford to go. I switched off the screen and pulled myself back into the dark. Whatever happiness belonged to normal college students, it wasn't mine to have. I had a dream that night. Dad, a man I'd only ever seen in financial magazines, stood over Mom after knocking her to the ground. "Diane Sutherland, you and that hick son of yours are nothing but a couple of freeloaders, always crawling back with your hands out."

Under the photo was a voice message. "Kyla, look at this!" Mom's voice exploded through the quiet room. "Is Bruce cheating on you? Don't be stupid!" Then she forwarded an article. [Don't Forgive a Cheater During Postpartum Recovery: Once a Cheater, Always a Cheater.] Every word screamed divorce. I tightened my grip on my phone as cold spread through my body. *** Ever since I was a kid, Mom kept saying we were broke. As the older sister, I had to sacrifice more.

Irritated, Barbara slapped him and said, "Why are you crying? No one died in this house." The five or six-year-old Jerry Miller cried and said sadly, "Mom is mean, Mom is a witch. I don't like Mom anymore!" Barbara, already in a bad mood, was even more angered by her son's public mockery, making her want to slap him again. The mother and son created a chaotic scene in the living room. Madam Martínez had a displeased expression and said calmly, "Haley, after signing the contract, come to my study with me."

"You're lying! I didn't steal any presents!" The words had just left my lips when Mom roared, "Claire Peterson!" She stormed toward me until she was standing in front of me. She grabbed my bloody arm and hissed, "How dare you talk back to Amanda and lie in front of everyone? You have utterly humiliated me, allowing everyone to ridicule me! I have no choice but to teach you a lesson you'll never forget." The pain should have been excruciating as Mom dug her fingers into my wounds. But I couldn't feel anything.

Rebecca’s voice dropped low, . “Are you ashamed people will know that your mother is a slut, a mistress who stole someone else’s husband?” Jessica’s face hardened. “My mom did not steal your father. They fell in love.” “Of course they fell in love,” Rebecca cut her off. “That’s what you’re going to say.” The air in the room was sharp enough to cut. Jessica stood her ground, arms still crossed, but her jaw was tight now. “My mom is not a slut .”

“How dare she? After everything you did for her? You brought her into our home. You trusted her. And she repays you by spreading her legs for your father?” I nodded, tears slipping down my cheeks again. “I can’t even look at her anymore, Mom. Every time I see her face, I imagine her with him. Moaning for him. Letting him touch her. It makes me sick.” Mom’s eyes flashed with pure rage. “How can someone that young be so slutty? So shameless? She’s nothing but a cheap little whore who saw an opportunity and took it. Your father should be ashamed of himself too. Replacing me with a girl half his age? Pathetic.”