Mother I Crave Violence Gif นิยาย & เรื่องราว

People were already moving on the streets…heading to brunch, to the park, to wherever normal people with normal lives went on Sunday mornings. I pressed my palm against the cool glass. I don’t want to hurt you, Aria.But he would. Eventually. Maybe not with his fists. But there were so many other ways to hurt someone. To slowly chip away at them until there was nothing left but the shape they wanted you to be. I watched it happen to my mother. I watched her shrink and fade until she was just a beautiful accessory on my father’s arm. And in eight months, it would be my turn.

I saw the pity and guilt reflecting in her eyes. "What are you talking about? What kind of mother are you to say something like that about your own child?" Mrs. Davis used her frail body to shield me as she tried to reason with Mom to make her back down. But Mom was never one to be reasoned with. Sneering, she gave me a cold glance that sent chills down my spine. As she raised her hand, Mrs. Davis still stood in front of me, perhaps unable to believe that Mom would resort to violence against her. But I knew better. Over the years, Mom had hit more women than I could count.

Mom has a lot of food stock for the week, and it's just that I'm not good at processing it. My mother and I were in the living room watching TV, but I was not interested in watching television. The programs were of no quality, in my opinion. I left the sofa, the serious mother watching the wives' hearts' confession on television. I am sorry to see that the wife is constantly abused, and unfortunately, she does not dare to rebel. If only my fate were like that, I would not hesitate to kill the damn actor, come to his house, bring a knife, or shake his shirt, naked. Who is watching who, who is looking for it?

Caleb looks like he is ready to shift and tear this place apart. “Your mate, is this a freaking joke?” My mother’s words are scathing. “Who would want her as a mate? Do you realize she is nothing but a murderous tramp?” My face is flaming bright with embarrassment as my mother continues. Eighteen years of hate and anger are pouring out of her like a waterfall.

Mom said, raising her hand to slap me but stopped at the sound of my voice. ‎“No, how dare you mother?” I yelled, rising to my feet. My chest heavy with rage, “I have done everything you wanted. I agreed to this marriage agreement despite hating my supposed husband. You demanded I take part in this stupid mating ritual, and that's what I did. Mother if your eyes are functioning properly you would see his bite is still fresh on my neck. I do everything for you ask but you're never satisfied. So what more do you want mother? should I kill myself for you? Do I not even have the right to express myself mom?"

I'll make him wish he was dead! Mom broke into a hysterical, devastated wail, utterly powerless and filled with despair. I heard the chilling sound of my teeth grinding against each other, my throat dry as sandpaper. If that woman were to appear before me, I wouldn't hesitate for even a second. I'd leap at her, tear out her throat, and devour her flesh and blood! The voice in the video erupted into a malicious, bone-chilling laugh. "At least I gave you a chance to see your son one last time. It's your fault for not making the most of it. Instead, your precious son kicked you like you're a crazy woman. Hahaha!"

"A pufferfish’s kiss. Quite poetic, really. Vincent always had a flair for the dramatic." whatever. I thought silently to myself. Rage, white-hot and blinding, erupted through the drug haze. My mother.Murdered. By whom?. Confirmed by the viper leaning over me. The compact’s edge bit deeper into my palm, the pain a welcome focus. She reached for the pen in her pocket. Distracted. Exposed. Now.

How dare him," I growled, watching him beat up the woman I loved without remorse. Without care. Without an ounce of empathy. How could he treat her like that? How could he hurt her? How dare he?! I watched, helpless like a damned fool as he pummeled her to bits. “How's that trafficking coming up? How many more kids do you have left to sell?!” I froze at her words. What did she mean by trafficking? And why the hell was she baiting him?! He would kill her! The thought startled me and I looked up to see my mother's solemn face. "How... How did this... Tell me he didn't kill her. Please tell me she's not dead!" Mother wrapped me in her arms, murmuring. "Calm down. She's not dead. She's fine. She

The head is slick, shining with precome, veins standing out thick and angry along the shaft. I wrap my fist around it—still wet from his cum—and give one long, slow stroke from base to tip. “Ughhh… shit,” I groan deep in my chest, the sound tearing out raw and unfiltered. My head tips back for half a second before I force my gaze back to his. “Look at what you fucking do to me, Vale.” Another stroke. My hips jerk forward into my own grip. “Fuuuck… yeah,” I moan.

But I do think that there was a man she was having an affair with and I wanted to find out who and why. Because as fucking crazy as my mother could be, she won’t put her life in danger by cheating on dear old father. If my father found out, he will kill her in front of the whole world just to make an example out of her and won’t even shed a tear. Maybe that’s where I get this hunger for blood and violence, and apathy that always dogged me around, courtesy of parents who were as cold as the endless frost of Siberia. But unlike them who couldn’t care less about even their own children, I made an exception for the few people that I cared about. I could count them on my fingers and still have