Naked Mothers Novels & Stories

Instead, she stood up, lifted her shirt, and showed her belly. The skin, which should've been pale and smooth, was covered in bruises and cigarette burns. And, even worse, I could see faint knife scars. I stared in shock. "My mom was abused?" "Yeah, she was abused the whole time. Didn't you know she'd been stuck in an abusive relationship for years?" Abusive relationship? I'd read countless stories online about abusive relationships, and they were all heartbreaking. But I always thought that was something that happened to other people, not my family.

"Why'd you wait until I die before showing me even a bit of love?" The torture I suffered in Yvonne's hands wasn't my source of pain, but even a bit of my mother's distaste for me was enough to put me in hell. My mother meant the whole world to me. She carried me in her body for ten months. I was connected to her for ten months.

I ask defiantly, and by my uncle's expression, I know he's dying to give me a good smack for being so stubborn. "At this very moment, you move your butt and go apologize to your mother. I'm about to tell him that this woman is not my mother when he raises his hand, making a gesture for me to be quiet. "Of course, she is your mother. Even though she didn't give you life, she is your mother. Tell me, who has been taking care of you every time you get sick? Who attends all your school events? Who stands up for you when you make a mistake? Who has given you all her love without making any difference between you and your sisters?"

The vibrations alone told me enough. More had arrived. Three enormous figures emerged from different corners of the battlefield, each leaving behind whatever warrior had occupied them only moments before. They were unmistakably Blood Mothers, yet no two looked exactly alike. One wore long strips of dark animal hide layered across her shoulders, another carried necklaces fashioned from carved bone that clicked softly as she walked, while the third had wrapped faded crimson cloth around one powerful arm beneath the familiar network of scars and markings they all seemed to share. Different appearances. The same impossible presence.

"You didn't care that Julia was suffering from severe heatstroke. You didn't believe it when a student reported her condition to you. You even stopped Mr. Hodge when he was trying to save her! So you're afraid that people might accuse you of playing favorites, huh?" Dad slowly stepped closer to Mom. "Congratulations. You made it. No one will dare accuse you of playing favorites now. "Everyone in this world now knows that you, Monica Campbell, are the strictest and most impartial woman alive—and you achieved that by sacrificing your daughter's life. How the hell are you even fit to be called a mother?" He practically shouted at the last few words. Mom's knees buckled, and her body slid right

She even took a knife and slashed at my skin, leaving trails of blood. That bloody scene shocked my dad. The man who had always been absent suddenly exploded. He raised his hand and slapped my mom hard across the face. "You crazy woman! How could you treat my child like this? Do you have any humanity left? That's our son... Your own flesh and blood!" My mom's head snapped to the side from the blow. However, this time, she did not fight back. She did not argue. She just stared blankly ahead. "This…isn't my fault…"

Then Serena leaned toward her broadcast crib and let one tear slide down her cheek. "Do you hear him suffering?" she whispered to the city. "She is hurting him to win." The number climbed again. AUTHORIZED MOTHER: 64%. On one screen, a woman pressed both hands over her mouth and whispered, "Maybe she should let them help." I heard it because the nursery wanted me to hear it. My fingers twitched toward the monitor band. For one weak second, shame moved where pain had been. Maybe I did look like the danger. Maybe mothers who bled on machines and argued with every hand that reached for them looked like storms from the outside.

Sarah had fallen in and out of depression because of her barrenness. The guilt of her abortion ate her up daily especially when Kunle defended her against his mother. Mama had lamented and caused her when she discovered that Mary was already pregnant with Jude's child even though they just got married. Mama vowed to kill herself if Sarah did not leave the house. "Mama, I made a vow for better or worse and I'm going to stick by it, I will stand by my wife. She is not the cause of our not having children." Kunle bent over his mother as she wailed. "Where is your faith mama, remember it is God who gives children." He said, trying to calm his mother down.

The view through the bushes was partly obscured by leaves and branches, but the outside lights were on at a dim setting, and the couple were both sitting totally naked and soaking wet up on the bench that went around the upper edge of the tub. Brook couldn't help feeling proud of how good her mother looked naked. No wonder Tom was crazy to fuck her night after night. She looked like a slightly taller, curvier version of her teenaged daughter. The girl found herself wishing her tits were as big as her mother's, even though they were pretty close. But Brook was actually proud of her tits and often wore low cut tops that her friends' mothers would probably complain about. Yet Janice was the sam

Mom inquired. Everyone kept on looking. Although the naked people's private parts were obscured by censorship, they were nonetheless obviously bare. They appeared to be setting up some sort of camp in the middle of a forest and were filthy as if they were abandoned, castaways. Greg said, "Yeah. "It's one of those survival programs, but there's a significant twist: at least when they first arrive, the contestants, who are always a guy and a woman, must be entirely naked. They occasionally create improvised loincloth-style garments."