Mother I Crave Violence Gif Novels & Stories

The turmoil and chaos that had plagued my life would no longer sway over me. With cautious anticipation, I opened my eyes, the room still shrouded in a haze. Shapes began to emerge, slowly forming into recognizable objects and faces. And there, standing before me, was my mother. But she was different. Her face adorned with bruises and cuts, a physical testament to the violence that had consumed my father. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, mingling with her strained smile. She reached out, her hand trembling, and tenderly caressed my face. The touch was warm, comforting, but laced with a profound sorrow that transcended words.

’ [My Mother knew] She spoke without thinking and Mario chuckled darkly, ‘Oh sì, tua madre, era una graziosa cosina, non come te ma poi sei eccezionale’ [Oh yes, your Mother, she was a pretty little thing, not like you but then you are exceptional] She felt his hand run up her arm caressing her and she shuddered repulsed, ‘Anche lei era una combattente come te’ [She was a fighter like you too] He whispered against her hair and she startled when his arm shot out and he grabbed her pulling her close to him, ‘Mi chiedo, urlerai come lei, morderai come lei, era una piccola tigre ma non faceva differenza. Ero più forte, l'ho ancora bloccata sotto di me e l'ho guardata negli occhi mentre la violen

I tell her, watching as her breath hitches in her chest, her mind already figuring out exactly who it is that has captured the interest of my beast. Lifting my right hand from her throat, I drag my fingers along her cheek until I reach her chin, pulling on it roughly until she is facing me once again. “And you just ordered your little pet to kill that creature.” The growl in my voice startles my mother, causing her to jump in my arms, exciting my beast as he licks his lips in the dark recesses of my mind.

I'll be the cooperative kitten until I have the perfect opportunity to scratch his fucking eyes out. With a sweet smile for him, I enjoy imagining how it would feel to wrap the chain around his throat and pull tight. I'm a bloodthirsty bitch but hey, my fucked-up life necessitates the fact. I swore for years I would never be involved in the violence my brother breeds, but it's all I know and for once it could come in handy.

“Gimme your tit. I want to know how sweet is my daughter.” Marika leaned over and fed her mother one of her ripe plump tits. “Chew it, Mumma Grace,” she gasped. “Oooo, chew it!” Marika fingered ravenously on her mother’s hot bubbling pussy while her tits get sucked. She came back down again. She can't get enough of it. The taste was exquisite, the scent of cunt heavenly.

It cracked against the floor. “You stupid girl,” he snapped, his voice violent and low. He grabbed both my arms and pushed me against the wall. His face was inches from mine, eyes wild with anger. “Recording my mother? After everything I warned you about? I own you. Those videos can destroy everything you care about.”

" I drained my coffee cup, wiped the crumbs from my mouth, and pushed my chair back. Mom took her cup in shaking hands, staring at my cock. "Kyle, do you know what I love to do?" I held my cock and slowly stroked it, "No, Mom, I don't. What do you love to do?" Mom licked the butter off her last tiny piece of coffee cake and slipped it into her mouth. "I love to suck cock. I love sliding my mouth over a hard cock and loving it until it swells and shoots hot cum all over my tongue." "You are the meanest Mother I ever had." "I'm the only Mother you ever had and you're gonna have me all day."

It angered me that she was cut short, she wanted to say something, but someone made her keep quiet. The motherfuckers that dared hold my mate, that dared touch her, that dared even look at her were gonna die a tragically painful death in my hands. I was going to carve their heart out and stab needles into their heads till they fucking beg for death. Then I’ll cut their tongue out and make them choke on it. The rings of their screams would sound so delightful. And if they touched her where they weren’t meant to… may the goddess help them all.

Damien 115. Mother had been livid when I showed her the graffiti on my wall. A black skull with a black crow perched on it. She had grabbed the phone off my hand and glared at the image displayed on it. "Vito sicced those bastards on you?" Mother asked in disbelief and pure rage. "It would have been different if I was at home but I had just been returning from work," I had told her. "He is going to pay," Mom said with a dead serious tone.

My eyes darkened inexplicably, and I saw her cower as she met my gaze. I could tolerate every insult, but to actually insult my late mother in front of so many people? That was my bottom line. “I can identify as a vixen as you say, but do not let that filthy mouth of yours mention my mother again. She was a thousand times better than you'll ever be! And who was it who climbed into the bed of someone's husband? Might I remind you?”