Short Story For Mother Novels & Stories

At my wedding with my childhood sweetheart, Zoe Sutherland, I see live comments in front of my eyes all of a sudden. "This is so funny! The male supporting lead doesn't even know that the bride is a fake one! The actual female lead, Zoe, is actually keeping the male lead company in the hospital!" "It doesn't matter who the bride is! The female lead just wants to get married for the sake of her company's funds! After all, this story is about childhood sweetheart losing to the true love who's come out of nowhere!" "The female lead will end up screwing the male supporting lead's life over. Jeez, now I feel a little bad for him." Concealing the shock in my eyes, I go through the rest of the wedding while pretending to be kept in the dark about the truth. I don't want to become the stepping stone that will tie the two main leads together as the cannon fodder who dies a horrible death. Since Zoe doesn't want to marry me at all, I might as well marry the fake bride for real.

I ran into my boss when I was complaining to my best friend about how he actively made the workplace hostile for me. He fired off a barrage of questions, "Where's the annual report? Where's the script for the speech? I can't believe you have the gall to enjoy a meal when you have a mountain of work to do!" That was it. I slammed the table. "It's due tomorrow! What's the rush? Are you going to hold a funeral for yourself tomorrow?" My boss stormed off in a huff. I asked for the bill, but the waiter came with two. My table came up to 60 dollars, but the other ran up to 3,750. "Your boyfriend said you're paying for both. Cash or credit, miss?" Shawn Goodall put that impossible bill on my tab and called himself my boyfriend? Unbelievable! I called him, utterly incensed. Yet, he had the gall to say, "Get the receipt and claim it from finance." Then, he hung up. The waiter was going to call the cops if I didn't pay up, so I had no choice but to accept this bitter defeat. I was trying to claim the money the next day, but the cops arrested me instead. "Shawn Goodall died at midnight and was found in his house. You're his girlfriend and the last person he met. You're coming with us."

“You let him touch you huh?” He asked as he pulled out a whip. “No I didn’t let him, I swear” I countered his accusation. He pushed me on the bed and started pulling off my clothes. “Alex” I whispered. “Shhhhh” he starts by whipping my ass, every single lash on me made me pussy watered. “Alex…” I moaned in desperation. “Why did you let that bastard touch what belongs to me” he asked, but I couldn’t respond. “Look at you….already wet and soaked, what a naughty little slut you are” on normal days from another person I should have offended by those words but coming from him only made my pussy clenched. He slipped one finger inside, carefully and gently. “You’re a bad girl and bad girls deserve punishment right?” I asked casually like he was asking about documents in the office. “Yes” I shivered. “Yes what?” I asked putting one of my nipple in his mouth. “Yes, yes, yes daddy yes daddy” I said screaming. “Good girl” he said “ now if you make another sound, I’ll make sure your mouth is shut till I’m done” after all I’ve experienced so far, I knew he wasn’t bluffing. “I like it when you call me daddy” he continued moving his fingers in and out slowing “say it again” “Daddy” I whispered but got whipped instead. “Say it louder” he commanded. “Daddy” I said sobbing. I shifted restlessly against the sheets. “Daddy…” The word slipped out again but this time it felt distant. I moved again and realized my hands were moving but it was actually moving between my legs. I looked between my legs and realized it was all a dream.

Maddy thought marrying her fated mate and flying to Greece to start a new life would fix everything. All she wanted was a perfect life with De-Shawn—far away from Alpha Rowan J. Grey, the man she discovered was also her mate. That was impossible. A werewolf could only have one fated mate—unless one died. Second-chance mates don't happen while both are still alive. Yet here she was. Both of her mates are alive. “Let’s go to Greece,” De-Shawn said the night he slid the ring onto her finger. Maddy wasn’t sure, but running felt safer than staying. Because Rowan couldn’t be her mate. He was married. He had children. Worse—he was her godmother’s husband. She escaped to Greece, hoping distance would weaken the bond forming between her and Rowan. Hoping marriage would save her. But It didn’t. Her fated mate destroyed her life; he killed their unborn pup, stripping her of everything she owned, and forcing her into a conservatorship. Left with nothing and on the verge of spending six years in rehab as a mentally ill patient, she turns to one person. One person she shouldn’t turn to, one person from whom she should stay far away.

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.

Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots. Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents. Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all. Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly. "I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you. "If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck." Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love. But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once. On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again. I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me. Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle. When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

CAUTION: This is an R18 EROTIC DARK ROMANCE COLLECTION containing multiple RAW LGBTQIA+ STEAMY STORIES. Built For Sin will meet you dry and hand you imagination to leave you soaking wet, hard as diamond and rutting like an Alpha. Clicking on read will take you on a journey to either press your thighs together or use a vibrator; suffer in hard silence or stroke your hard dick faster with lubricant. Since you read everything above and are still reading, I guess you want to volunteer as tribute to this world of perversion. Welcome, sinner.

The top-tier charity auction in Manhattan is about to begin when my boyfriend’s stepsister spots a pearl necklace she likes. Wanting to buy it as her birthday gift, my boyfriend reserves a bidding seat. But due to a mistake by the organizers, the seat had actually been reserved by someone else before he booked it. An elderly lady dressed plainly says the seat is hers, yet they show no intention of yielding. I force my boyfriend to give the seat back to the woman. But Amy storms out in a fit of anger. That night, gunshots echo through the neighborhood. A stray bullet hits her, and she bleeds out on the spot. He calmly arranges her funeral, yet still keeps his promise and marries me. Soon after, my father dies in what is ruled an accident. On the day of my father’s funeral, he storms into the church with his men. Looking at me kneeling before the coffin, he smiles arrogantly. “Olivia, this is what you owe Amy! If you hadn’t stopped me that day, the seat would’ve been hers! She wouldn’t have run out in anger, and she wouldn’t have been shot! Let me tell you something—your father was killed by me. And now it’s your turn!” Right in front of everyone, he shoots my younger brother—who had been kneeling beside me, begging for mercy—dead with a single bullet. His bodyguards pin me down and drag me out of the church as I watch helplessly, his blood pooling before my father’s coffin. When I open my eyes again, my boyfriend is glaring angrily at the waiter, about to explode. What he doesn’t know is that the plainly dressed old woman in sunglasses is the mother of the current Don of the most powerful Mafia family in New York—the Morretti family. And that Don is famously devoted to his mother.

During the holidays, I specifically go home to spend quality time with my family. Mom brings out a bowl of persimmons and says in a half-teasing manner, "This is for the Sherman family. Once you eat a persimmon, you'll be blessed with good luck. Outsiders aren't allowed to take from this bowl." Everyone begins fighting for the persimmons. I decide to grab one for myself as well. The next thing I know, the living room goes eerily silent. Dad drags me to the corner before he starts berating me. "You didn't get to eat any fruits when you were living with your in-laws, huh? Must you steal from our family? "Didn't you hear your mother saying that outsiders aren't allowed to take from the bowl? So why did you still take one? "Because of you, Vivian doesn't get anything at all!" I look around my surroundings. It turns out there are only eight persimmons when in reality, there are nine of us in the living room. Mom has been hinting at me the whole time that I'm the actual outsider here. So, I pass the persimmon to Vivian Andrews, my parents' goddaughter. Then, I dial my husband's phone number. "Kevin, there's no need to bring the holiday gifts over."

At twenty, she was taken to a night club for the first time. Now, at twenty six, she meets with the one man she has ever slept with. Christopher Allen. She had taken his money and ran. She always hoped to never come across him again. Now, he appears and wants to take his daughter or they get married. Yes, she had a child after just one night. One night of reckless abandon. Her first time. {"You make me laugh, I am here for what belongs to me and I think you know what that is," he said. My heart dropped to my feet immediately after he said that. I know he would want his money and I hope that is what he is talking about. "What do you want, your money?" I asked hoping he will say yes. "You are very funny... I want what belongs to me and you know very well what that is, yes, you took my money but, that's not what I am talking about... I WANT MY DAUGHTER!" } He had come demanding and she had no choice. She either agrees to be his wife or never sees her beloved daughter again. That was what bound her to him for life. A night had led to being his forever.