Sister Na (One, Two, Three, Four, Five)

I.
My name is Xiaoyun. When this story begins, I was a girl under fourteen, in the second year of junior high school.
One afternoon in March of that year, I walked out of the school gate and saw my mother standing by her car, smoking while waiting for me.
My mother was thirty-four years old that year, with a beautiful face and a hot figure. That day, she was wearing a low-cut, bodycon mini dress, revealing quite a bit of her breasts, so much so that many men around were peeking at her.
I felt quite embarrassed for her, and without even greeting her, I quickly got into the car with my head down.
"You brat, you didn't even say hello to your mother?" my mother complained, throwing away her cigarette and getting into the car as well.
On the way, she told me to change into the clothes she had left on the back seat while driving. I did as she said, "Mom, please don't dress like this to school next time, okay?"
My mom chuckled as she looked at me changing in the rearview mirror, "What's wrong? You think your mom is embarrassing you?"
"That's true! You didn't even see the looks those men were giving me. Luckily, no teachers or classmates saw me..." I muttered, continuing to change.
"I know! I'll be more careful next time..." my mom laughed, but didn't forget to scold me, "At such a young age, you already know how to complain about your mother? You heartless bastard."
I added, "Also, don't keep calling me out when I'm at school. I don't know how to explain it to my teachers later."
That afternoon, I lied to my homeroom teacher, saying I had severe menstrual cramps, so she had to call my mom to come pick me up from school.
My mom pursed her lips and said, "That's not up to me, and it's not up to you either. When you're busy, who cares if you're at school or not?"
I changed into the spaghetti strap mini-dress my mom had prepared for me and then opened her makeup bag to do my makeup. My mother told me not to wear too much makeup.
I quickly finished my light makeup, smacked my lips a couple of times in front of the small mirror, brushed my bangs, and then changed into the high heels my mother had prepared.
Arriving at the underground parking garage of a five-star hotel, my mother and I got out of the car. I was less than 1.6 meters tall at the time, considerably shorter than my mother who was 1.65 meters.
The mother and daughter, one a charming and alluring young woman, the other a pretty and delicate young girl, walked hand in hand gracefully towards the elevator.
A short while later, they arrived at a guest room and rang the doorbell. The door opened quickly, revealing a middle-aged man in a bathrobe.
He looked to be in his late thirties, quite handsome, with a light mustache on his upper lip and chin adding to his stylish and sexy appeal.
"You're here!" the middle-aged man smiled faintly, ushering us into the room.
It was a suite, large and luxurious. The fact that this man booked such a nice room in such a high-class hotel showed he was quite wealthy.
On the way here, my mom told me that this customer had just returned from abroad and was looking for a mother and daughter to work with. He was very rich, and she told me to work hard and serve him well with her, otherwise we wouldn't be shortchanged.
You read that right, my mom is a prostitute, and after I turned thirteen, she often brought me along to work with her, to satisfy some clients' fetish for mother-daughter threesomes, thus earning more money.
The middle-aged man sat down on the sofa, picked up his coffee cup, took a sip, and the diamond ring on his ring finger sparkled dazzlingly. He smiled and said, "Would you like some coffee? I made you a cup too."
It was clear that he was quite satisfied with our appearance. There was another coffee cup on the coffee table, still steaming. My mom smiled and said, "Thank you, boss, we'll have some later."
She was an old hand; she usually wouldn't easily accept food or drinks from customers, lest something unexpected happen.
The middle-aged man put down his cup and looked at the mother and daughter standing in front of him, asking, "By the way, are you two really mother and daughter?"
He looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my beautiful legs exposed outside my miniskirt.
"Of course! Genuine mother and daughter," my mother laughed.
The middle-aged man nodded and said, "Then go take a shower!"
"Boss, won't you shower with us?" my mother asked again with a smile.
He smiled, "I already showered while waiting for you."
"Okay, just a moment," my mother said, starting to undress.
I started undressing too, the mother and daughter showing no shyness, gracefully stripping naked in front of the middle-aged man. He watched us the whole time, smiling.
My mother's figure was indeed hot, with large breasts and a curvy bottom, slender yet maturely full, her breasts at least a 36D, though I knew she had augmented them.
I was still developing at the time, and standing next to my mother, I looked quite petite, with small breasts and a small bottom, and sparse pubic hair.
"Boss, wait a minute, okay?" My mom smiled, took my hand, and led me into the bathroom.
The two of us stood under the showerhead. My mom squeezed some shower gel into her hand and applied it to my genitals. I said, "I know how to wash myself, you wash yours."
My mom applied the shower gel to her thick pubic hair and genitals, washing carefully, then reached behind her to wash her anus. I also washed my genitals and anus with shower gel.
After showering, my mom and I started having sex with the middle-aged man. He had a great physique, with firm, well-proportioned muscles, and even a few abs—clearly the result of regular exercise.
And his penis was huge, thick, long, and erect. I had never encountered anything so big before; it was comparable to the enormous penises of those foreigners in porn movies. I was a little worried—could my tender little garden withstand such a large plow?
I gave him oral sex first. He hugged and kissed my mother, caressing her, and said to her, "Your daughter's oral skills are pretty good! Did you teach her?"
My mother laughed, "Yes! Yes! Are you satisfied, boss?"
"Hmm, very good, I'm very satisfied," the middle-aged man praised.
I swallowed and sucked even more diligently. Although this big thing was far too large for my small mouth, I still spared no effort in serving it.
My mother handed me a condom, which I put on the middle-aged man, and then she straddled him and started having sex with him.
During this process, to please the middle-aged man, my mother and I kissed and kissed each other's breasts. The men who had threesomes with us usually liked to see us engage in homosexual behavior, and we thought, perhaps this man was no exception?
While he was having sex with me, my mother said from the side, "Boss, she's still young, be gentle!"
The middle-aged man, while thrusting in and out of me, laughed and said, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle with you."
He took turns with my mother and me, using all sorts of positions, making our moans echo throughout the room.
This man was well-endowed, skilled, and long-lasting, lasting a good forty or fifty minutes, and my mother and I each had several orgasms. This was rare in our prostitution career; most of the time we were faking orgasms.
After we finished, my mother and I went into the bathroom to shower and then got dressed.
The middle-aged man was on his cell phone, speaking fluent English. When he saw us, he picked up a stack of banknotes from the coffee table, handed it to my mother, and smiled, "You two are very good. I'll patronize your business again if I have the chance."
My mom took the money, counted it, and said with a beaming smile, "Thank you, boss! Call me whenever you want to play."
"OK, I'll contact you next time I'm back in China," the middle-aged man smiled.
We arrived at the underground parking garage and got into the car. My mom patted my head in the passenger seat and laughed, "Xiaoyun, you did a great job today!"
I smiled at her, "Mom, those sneakers I wanted..."
"Okay, Mom will buy them for you," my mom laughed.
She was clearly in a good mood. She started the car, drove out of the parking space, and headed towards the garage exit.
While driving, my mom said, "This man is really great, handsome, stylish, and rich. He's also excellent in bed; he made me feel so good."
She then asked me, "Xiaoyun, did you enjoy it just now?"
I ignored her. My mom continued, seemingly talking to herself, "He's quite generous, but I wonder if I'll ever meet him again? Sigh! If every customer were like him, that would be so great!"
I was annoyed by her infatuated look, rolled my eyes at her, and looked out the car window.

II.
Back home, I did my homework, and my mom made dinner. While doing my homework, my thoughts drifted back to the past.
My hometown is a remote town in Jiangxi. My parents were working in this southern city when I was born, and soon after, they brought me back to their hometown.
When I was three, my father had a motorcycle accident, which broke his back, rendering him unable to do heavy work. To support our impoverished family, my mother had no choice but to return to prostitution.
She first worked as a hostess in a nightclub, and after accumulating a clientele, she became a prostitute. Over the years, she earned a considerable income, sending money home frequently. She even bought a second-hand house on a mortgage (which has now been fully paid off), and opened a small shop for my father in our hometown. Whether it made money or not was secondary; the main thing was to give him something to do.
Although my mother never told the family, my father knew perfectly well that his wife was working as a prostitute. He felt resentful, but there was nothing he could do; after all, he was a useless man. So, my mother and I kept it a secret.
As soon as I graduated from elementary school, my mother brought me to this city to attend junior high school. The school I attended was notoriously difficult for an outsider like me to get into. Later, I learned that my mother had slept with the principal for free several times to secure my admission.
In the early days in this city, my mother didn't hide it from me; she entertained clients at home. Many times, while I was doing my homework, I heard my mother moaning and the sounds of sex coming from our bedroom.
At first, I felt uncomfortable and ashamed, and I even disliked my mother. But over time, I became numb to it.
I even began to understand my mother; after all, it wasn't easy for her, a woman, to support such a poor family. Our living expenses, my tuition, my father's medical bills, the money for repairing the house—everything depended on her.
Gradually, I noticed my mother starting to do strange things to me. She often talked to me about sex and frequently showed me porn, explaining things to me as she watched. Once
, when my mother was entertaining clients, she even forced me to sleep next to her and her client to watch them have sex. I was so ashamed that my face turned bright red, my heart pounded, and I closed my eyes
, too embarrassed to look at them. The client was having sex with my mother while simultaneously reaching out to touch me. I was terrified and repeatedly pushed his hands away. Perhaps seeing my disgust and determination, he stopped touching me.
I wanted to resist what my mother was doing to me, but she threatened to send me back to my hometown if I didn't comply. Having already been there for a while, how could I want to go back to that poor place? So I stopped resisting.
Although I was quite ashamed and scared, as time went by, I, at such a young age, began to yearn for those things.
Around the time I turned thirteen, one night I suddenly woke up to find an old man in his fifties on top of me, and my mother lying naked beside me.
I struggled desperately, but the old man held me down tightly, and I couldn't move. My mother was beside me, urging me to obey. Just like that, the old man took my virginity, which I had only kept for thirteen years, and my mother received a large sum of money for deflowering me.
After that, under my mother's coercion and enticement, I started working as a prostitute, becoming a child prostitute.
In the past six months, I've been with many men alongside my mother. She was very satisfied with my performance; in her words, we were the best mother-daughter duo. She also quite liked her profession, often telling me that this line of work was quick money, effortless, and you could just stretch your legs and get paid. She said it was a win-win situation – money made, comforting, and why not?
Once, we served three clients at the same time, and the two of us were repeatedly penetrated by the three men, even getting ejaculated on our faces and chests.
Another time, a man in his sixties couldn't get an erection, so he asked my mother and me to perform homosexual acts for him. We didn't hold back, playing games like 69 and "grinding tofu." The old man watched while masturbating, eventually ejaculating.
After experiencing so much, I've come to terms with it. I think maybe my mother is right; for women like us from impoverished backgrounds, coming from small towns to big cities, this is the most suitable, and almost the only, way to survive.
With this thought in mind, I no longer felt any shame about being naked in front of men with my mother, or even having sex with them, just like this afternoon.
The only thing that worried me was that my mother's nipples, areolas, and genitals were very dark, likely due to having sex with too many men. I feared that one day I would become like her.
To make it easier to solicit clients, my mother specifically bought a small apartment in a commercial-residential building not far from here on a mortgage. She partitioned off an inner room and furnished it with some basic furniture, using it as our "sex room," which she called her "studio."
Some wealthy clients wouldn't come to the studio; we usually went to their hotels.
Of course, my mother and I didn't solicit clients together very often. Most of the time, she went out alone, and when I solicited clients alone, she would stay in the hotel lobby listening in via WeChat, or stay in the outer room of the studio. She didn't feel comfortable leaving me alone with clients, lest something dangerous happen.
During dinner, my mother poured herself a glass of wine and watched a rerun of "If You Are the One" on TV while eating and drinking. It's her favorite show; she chuckles at the funny parts and sheds tears at the touching ones.
I guess she likes watching "If You Are the One" because she feels a sense of identification with the characters—imagining herself as one of the female guests, led away by a prince charming. In real life, this is a dream she can hardly afford, a mere fantasy for comfort.
Even the lowest, most humble person has dreams, even if those dreams will forever remain just dreams. Isn't that right?
My mother took a sip of her wine, picked up a piece of food for me, and said with affection, "Xiaoyun, eat more; you're growing."
"Thank you, Mom!" I said softly.
My mother patted my head and smiled, "You're quite well-behaved when you're being good, but sometimes your temper can be really infuriating."
I smiled at her and buried my head in my food. The mother and daughter ate together harmoniously and warmly, appearing like any other ordinary family. But who would have thought that this same mother and daughter had engaged in sexual intercourse with a man that afternoon, behaving in an extremely wanton manner?
It's less about being polite to my mother and more about being emotionally distant from her. She left me in our hometown when I was little, and we rarely saw each other until I was twelve, when she brought me to live with her. Naturally, I couldn't feel close to her.
Sometimes I wonder, does my mother really love me? If she doesn't, she's always been good to me, trying her best to meet my material needs, and even sleeping with the principal to get me into a good middle school.
If she does love me, why would she let her daughter sell herself, and even sell herself alongside her?
But regardless, I think she loves me, and I love her too, even though I often feel distant from her.
After dinner, I continued doing my homework, while my mother continued watching TV. After a while, she said to me, who was frowning and pondering a math problem, "What's wrong? Honey, can't you do it?"
I ignored her and continued thinking. She said again, "Why don't you let Mom take a look? Maybe Mom can help you."
I rolled my eyes at her and said, "Can you even do it?"
She laughed, "Why wouldn't I? Your mom graduated from high school, after all. This eighth-grade homework of yours, you think it can stump your mom?"
I pushed the workbook in front of her, "You try!"
My mom looked at it, then smiled sheepishly, "I really can't."
I rolled my eyes at her again and took the workbook back.
Around 10 p.m., my mom and I finished washing up and went to bed. We always sleep in the same bed.
After saying goodnight to each other, my mom said to me, "Honey, Mom loves you."
There was a hint of apology in her eyes, because she had led me down this path at such a young age.
"I love you too, Mom," I smiled.
Mother and daughter smiled at each other, and my mom kissed me on the lips. When she tried to kiss me a second time, I dodged away. I lay down with my back to her and said, "Turn off the light and go to sleep!"
She turned off the light, lay down beside me, hugged me from behind, and reached under my nightgown to grab my small breast.
"Hey! What are you doing?" I said impatiently, pulling her hand away.
My mother patted my back and laughed, "You brat, when we were working, we kissed, touched breasts, even kissed each other's private parts, let alone kissed. Now you're shy?"
"That was work. Now it's just the two of us," I said irritably.
My mother sighed behind me and asked, "Xiaoyun, have you ever hated me?"
I didn't answer, and she didn't say anything more. In the darkness, I asked myself, how long am I going to continue like this? Am I going to be like my mother, doing this job forever? What will I do in the future?
At that time, I was just beginning to experience love and had already fallen in love with someone. I didn't know if I still had the right to pursue love, or the right to love and be loved.
Thinking like this, I couldn't help but shed tears.

III.
Over the years, I have had almost no friends. Because of my low self-esteem, I found it difficult to open up to my peers.
I often envied my classmates; one's father was a university professor, another's mother a civil servant, or at least a state-owned enterprise employee or company employee. Only I had a father who was partially disabled, running a small shop in a poor rural area, and a mother who was a prostitute.
Other girls were treated like precious gems by their parents, who feared they might suffer even the slightest harm, while I, at a young age, forced myself to smile in the arms and legs of men alongside my mother.
I felt my life was shrouded in darkness, and I could only comfort myself with Gu Cheng's poem—"The night gave me black eyes, and I use them to seek the light." So I always studied twice as hard, more diligently than others, to gain those black eyes to find the light.
Fortunately, fate shone a ray of light into my dark life.
That June, at fourteen, I secretly began dating my history teacher.
His surname was Zhao, he was in his thirties, married with children. Teacher Zhao was tall, not particularly handsome, wore glasses, and had a very refined and clean appearance.
His classes were excellent, engaging and entertaining, and he was always very kind to me, the history class representative. I've always admired him, liked him, and even fallen in love with him. Yes, looking back now, he was indeed the first person I ever loved.
Falling in love with your teacher is a painful thing. First, because he had his own family, a wife and children. Second, because I felt so unworthy of him.
So, since falling in love with Mr. Zhao, I've kept my feelings buried deep in my heart. But the deeper I buried them, the more painful it became. Finally, I couldn't bear it anymore and began to take action to win Mr. Zhao's heart.
That day, near the end of school, I found Mr. Zhao and asked him to tutor me in his spare time, saying I would pay him.
Mr. Zhao seemed puzzled and asked with a smile, "People usually get tutoring in math, physics, chemistry, or English, maybe a little Chinese, but who tutors history?"
I said, "Mr. Zhao, I'm not asking you to tutor me in history, I'd like to ask you to tutor me in Chinese."
"Tutor in Chinese?" He was even more confused, adjusting his glasses and saying, "I'm a history teacher."
I smiled and said, "Yes! You are a history teacher, but with your excellent literary skills, you can definitely help me."
I wasn't lying; Mr. Zhao's literary skills were indeed excellent. He was an amateur writer, having published many short stories and novellas in magazines and serialized novels online.
"But..." Mr. Zhao looked at me and smiled, "Why don't you go to your Chinese teacher? Why come to me, a history teacher, to tutor you in Chinese?"
I lowered my head and remained silent for a while, then looked up at him again, "I don't want a teacher I don't like to tutor me. Mr. Zhao, you are my favorite teacher."
A certain light appeared in his eyes. I pressed my advantage, staring at him with pitiful, endearing eyes. "Teacher Zhao, can you promise me?"
I figured, what grown man wouldn't feel a pang of sympathy for a beautiful young woman like me?
Sure enough, Teacher Zhao agreed. "Alright! But..."
he adjusted his glasses, adding, "I won't charge you."
I was secretly pleased, saying, "How can that be? Teacher Zhao, I can't let you work for nothing!"
He smiled, "You're one of my favorite students. I'm willing to help you; how can I charge you?"
I saw his sweet smile, but also sensed his distraction. I secretly congratulated myself on easily achieving the first step of my plan.
A few days later, one afternoon, I brought Teacher Zhao to my house. My mother wasn't home yet; I guessed she was either entertaining clients, playing cards with her friends who worked as prostitutes, or shopping and getting beauty treatments.
At first, Teacher Zhao could sit down and give me serious advice, guiding me through my Chinese lessons. Then, naturally, we embraced, kissed, and caressed each other.
Having slept with so many men, seducing a high school teacher was a piece of cake, wasn't it?
He sucked on my soft lips and tongue, touched my breasts, and I was lost in his embrace and caresses. Although I'd been with many men, being with the one I loved felt so different.
Lost in his arms, I whispered, "Teacher Zhao, I love you. Do you love me?"
"Yes, I love you too..." he said, kissing my luscious lips again.
We kissed passionately, pouring out our hearts to each other. I told him I'd fallen in love with him long ago, wondering if he'd noticed. He said he'd felt it too, and liked me very much, but their teacher-student relationship prevented him from crossing any lines.
We talked for a while, kissed for a while longer, and then I asked him to carry me to the bed. He picked me up and carried me into the bedroom, placing me on the bed. He began undressing me, piece by piece, until he removed my bra and panties.
Then he undressed himself, embracing me, kissing and caressing me. By the time he touched me there, I was already very wet. He knelt down, parted my legs, and buried his face in my genitals, kissing for a while before penetrating me.
Perhaps he was too excited; when I guided him inside, he ejaculated. I hadn't expected him to be so indecent, but I didn't resent him at all, nor did I look down on him, because I loved him so much.
He apologized sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I...I..."
I smiled and said, "It's okay, let's do it again."
I bent down and sucked on his penis. He was engrossed in my oral sex and quickly became hard again. This time he lasted a normal amount of time and ejaculated deep inside me.
Although his skills in bed weren't any better than the clients I'd encountered, I still reached orgasm quickly.
I thought, maybe it's because I love him that I reached orgasm faster than before?
Teacher Zhao asked me how I knew how to do this. He meant I was giving him oral sex. I said I learned it from porn. He laughed and asked, "Do girls watch porn too?" I said, "Yes! Why don't you watch it? It's just that I don't like watching it as much as boys do."
He then asked me why I wasn't a virgin anymore. I lied and said that when I was in sixth grade in my hometown, I was raped by an old man I knew. He asked what happened next. I said that my family was afraid that if word got out, it would have a bad impact on my future, so they didn't report it to the authorities and just paid the old man some money to settle the matter.
"Teacher Zhao, will you look down on me because I'm not a virgin anymore?" I asked, pouting.
“Of course not!” he laughed, pinching my cheek.
I breathed a sigh of relief; this was the only thing I had worried about since I started planning to seduce him. He then told me that I absolutely couldn't let anyone know about this, not a single person. I laughed and said, “Okay! I won't tell anyone.
” He suddenly seemed to remember something and asked, “Are you fourteen yet?”
I nodded and said, “Yes, I am! I turned fourteen last month.”
He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, murmuring, “That’s good, that’s good…”
I was a little confused and asked him what was wrong. He smiled and said nothing.
Later I learned that if I hadn't turned fourteen, what he did to me would have constituted rape, even though I had consented.
That day, I saw Teacher Zhao off, and he told me to wait for him. He went into a pharmacy and bought some morning-after pills and a bottle of mineral water, then took me to a secluded spot and told me to take the pills.
I laughed and said, “These are my safe period, it’s fine!”
He said seriously, “No, you can still get pregnant even during your safe period.”
So, under his gaze, I took the pills.
From that day on, Mr. Zhao and I frequently went on dates, sometimes at my house (when my mother wasn't home, of course), but more often in hotels.
He was very careful, always booking different hotels, and he would always go into the hotel first to wait for me, and then I would enter the hotel a little while later.
When we were together, he told me many times that he loved me more than he loved his wife. At that time, I really loved him so much that I was blinded by love, and I believed everything he said, completely immersed in love.
I told him that I was content as long as we could be together like this, and I didn't want to break up his family. My main concern was that I felt my body was dirty and unworthy of him.
Since I got together with Mr. Zhao, I haven't taken a single client, determined to sever all ties with my past as a child prostitute. My mother couldn't do anything about it and asked me what was wrong. I didn't tell her the real reason, only that I didn't want to do this anymore.
My mother said, "Xiaoyun, we're both born for this kind of work, don't have any other illusions." I firmly said, "I just don't want to do it anymore, and you can't force me." My mother could only sigh helplessly.
And so, Mr. Zhao and I continued our affair until summer vacation. At that time, I thought we could be together forever; I was willing to be his lover secretly for the rest of my life.
Young and naive, I thought the world and human nature were too simple and too beautiful.

One
day in late July, while my mother was away again, I invited Mr. Zhao over to our house, only to be caught by her. Luckily, Mr. Zhao was genuinely tutoring me, since we had already had sex.
After Mr. Zhao left, my mother said to me with a half-smile, "Girl, tell me honestly, was he really tutoring you?"
I feigned composure and said, "Yes! What else?"
"He's a history teacher, tutoring you in Chinese?"
"Is that not allowed?"
"It's not that it's not allowed..." My mother said, raising a used condom between her fingers, dangling it back and forth; it still contained Mr. Zhao's semen.
"I just found it in the trash can, how do you explain that?" My mother stared at me and said.
I was startled, but quickly calmed down and said indifferently, "Since you've found out, I have nothing to be ashamed of admitting it. But so what?"
It wasn't that I was afraid of my mother finding out; we'd slept with so many men, this was nothing. It was just that I didn't want my mother to know I was in love with my teacher, lest she blurt it out.
"I'm going to your principal tomorrow! What kind of teacher is he? Sleeping with his own student, a minor girl at that? Is this how a teacher should behave?" my mother shouted.
I stared coldly at her and said, "If you're not afraid of your daughter losing face, go ahead and report me. But remember, if you do that..."
I glared fiercely at my mother, making her shudder, and continued, "I'll die right now, I mean it. You try me."
That's truly what I thought at the time. For the man I deeply loved, I was willing to do anything, even die for him. Because he was the first person I ever loved, and he loved me too. From childhood until I was with him, I finally experienced the beauty of life.
My mother was stunned by my outburst. Under my intense gaze, she chuckled awkwardly after a long pause, "Oh dear! Xiaoyun! Girl! I was just joking with you, why are you so agitated?"
I said coldly, "You'd better be joking, or I'll make sure you never have a moment's peace again."
And that was the end of it. After that, my mother asked me to invite Teacher Zhao over for dinner to thank him for his help. I didn't think it was a big deal, so I did.
At first, Teacher Zhao was a little shy, but he came after my insistence. Of course, he didn't know that my mother already knew about us.
Once there was a first time, there was a second, and a third. As Teacher Zhao came to my house more often, I noticed that my mother had developed feelings for him. Every time she saw Teacher Zhao, she looked like she was in heat, as if she wanted to take him to bed.
At the time, I didn't think much of it. I thought, "Teacher Zhao is two or three years younger than you, how could he possibly be interested in an old woman like you? Besides, he only loves me, so why would he do anything to you? Keep dreaming!"
One evening, I was watching TV when my mother came over and sat down next to me, putting her arm around me and saying, "Honey, can I talk to you about something?" "
What is it? Tell me quickly," I said, engrossed in the TV screen.
"It's about your Teacher Zhao. I think he's a nice guy, can I borrow him for a bit?" my mother said with a flirtatious smile.
I knew she was being horny again and sneered, "Don't even think about it."
My mother continued, "I recently bought a curved vibrator, it's quite useful."
"What's a curved vibrator?"
"It's a kind of electric vibrator! It's curved, and when you insert it into your vagina, it hits your G-spot..."
I thought my mother's sex drive was really strong. So many clients couldn't satisfy her, so she bought a vibrator to masturbate? It seems that, as she said, she was born for this line of work.
She continued, "It's really useful. Just a little while and you'll be squirting. You can't imagine how great that will feel!"
"I'm not interested," I said coldly.
"Oh! Try it!" She still hugged me, laughing, "If you lend me Teacher Zhao, I'll lend you my dildo, how about that?"
"I said I'm not interested. You keep it for yourself."
"Oh! I'll return it after I'm done. Don't be so stingy."
I snapped, pulling away from my mother's embrace and glaring at her, saying, "I'm warning you, he's my man. If you dare touch him, I'll never forgive you."
"Tch! How dare you talk to your mother like that?" My mother was furious. "Fine, don't lend it to me then. Why are you being so fierce?"
She stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.
I thought that after my warning, my mother wouldn't dare have any improper thoughts about Teacher Zhao, but I didn't expect her to be so shameless.
A month passed quickly. That afternoon, after watching a movie with two classmates, I returned home and opened the door to find Teacher Zhao's shoes by the door. I was pleasantly surprised, wondering why he had suddenly come.
Immediately afterward, I heard my mother's moans, mixed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.
My heart clenched. I tiptoed to the bedroom door and listened intently. I heard my mother moan as she said, "Baby, is it more fun with me or with Xiaoyun?"
Then I heard Teacher Zhao say, "Of course it's more fun with you! Xiaoyun may be young and fresh, but after a few times, it's all the same. How can she compare to you? Mature women are better; they're more enjoyable to fuck."
My mind went blank. I was trembling with anger, wanting to burst through the door, but I held back, wanting to hear what they would say next.
My mother said, "Do you love her?"
Teacher Zhao sighed and said, "She clings to me so tightly, always saying she loves me. To avoid hurting her, I only say comforting things. Actually, I truly love you."
"Nonsense!" my mother laughed.
“Really, baby, after spending these days together, I’ve realized I’ve truly fallen in love with you, and I love you more and more.”
“You’re so annoying!” my mom giggled, then cried out, “Ah! It’s coming again, faster, harder…”
Hearing the shameless words and lewd sounds from inside, I couldn’t hold back any longer and pushed open the door.
The two pale, fleshy bodies on the bed immediately separated. Teacher Zhao looked at me in utter surprise, stammering, “Xiao…Xiao Yun, you…how…you’re back?”
My mom, however, wasn’t afraid at all, smiling at me. That day I was furious. I cried and pounced on Teacher Zhao, hitting and scratching him, cursing him and my mom as a pair of adulterers.
Teacher Zhao was speechless and could only quickly put on his clothes and flee. After he left, I was filled with grief and anger, and I cried out to my mother, "You knew he was the man I loved, so why did you do this? Why did you have to steal my man? If you're so itchy, go find someone else to fuck! Why do you have to fuck my man?"
In my anger, I slapped my mother. She didn't fight back, but sneered, "You think I care about your worthless man? What kind of men haven't I seen? Do you think I care about a lousy high school teacher? He's not handsome, and his performance is mediocre. Only you would treat someone like a treasure."
"Then why did you do this?" I stared at my mother with teary eyes.
“I did this for your own good, to let you see this scumbag’s true colors. Otherwise, why would I let him sleep with me so many times for free?”
My mother continued, her voice trembling in my stunned silence. “To tell you the truth, I started sleeping with that guy surnamed Zhao about two weeks ago. This scumbag, he’s so easily seduced, he just slept with me…”
Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head repeatedly. “No, no, I don’t believe it, you’re lying to me…”
My mother sneered. “Lying to you? You heard what he said just now, didn’t you? To tell you the truth, I deliberately told him you were coming home late today to lure him over for sex, just waiting for you to catch him.”
I still shook my head, unable to believe it was all true. My mother continued, “Xiaoyun, wake up! He’s a complete scumbag…”
“Enough!” I suddenly shouted. “Even so, I won’t let you touch him. This is my business, don’t interfere!”
I said, then stormed out of the house. That night, I didn’t return home, wandering around all night, crying almost all night as well.
I thought Teacher Zhao was a ray of light in my life, a sign of divine pity. But in the end, I saw only an illusion. My life has never had any light, and it will continue to be dark.
A few days later, I spoke with Teacher Zhao, demanding 150,000 yuan in compensation. Otherwise, I threatened to report him for sexually assaulting a minor, ruining his reputation. My evidence was my unwashed underwear stained with his semen (of course, I lied to him).
Teacher Zhao panicked, begging me not to do this, almost kneeling before me. Looking at this selfish, cowardly, and heartless man, I truly hated myself for being blind to have fallen for such a person.
I wiped away my tears and said, "I can't just let you sleep with me for nothing, can I? How much can you come up with?"
He thought for a moment, then held up five fingers with a bitter face. "At most fifty thousand, and even that I'll have to scrape together behind my wife's back!"
I said coldly, "Fine, then it's eighty thousand, not a penny less, or you know the consequences."
Seeing my firm attitude, he had no choice but to agree and asked me to give him some time. I said I'd give him two weeks, and if I didn't see the money by then, I'd immediately take that pair of underwear to the principal.
Hearing my words, Teacher Zhao looked like a wilted eggplant, his head drooping. Seeing him like this, I felt truly sorry for him and for myself.

Five.
Two weeks later, I received the eighty thousand yuan and immediately rented a small apartment I had previously chosen. Back home, I told my mother that I had broken up with Teacher Zhao.
Upon hearing this, my mother hugged me and laughed, "That's right, Xiaoyun, you should have listened to your mother a long time ago. Look at you, these days you've been so busy flirting with that Zhao guy, neglecting so much work and losing so much money..."
She didn't notice my cold expression for the moment and continued, "Here's what we'll do, starting tomorrow, you'll be back in the game with your mother..."
I stared at my mother coldly and said, "Zhuang Xiaomei, from now on, don't even think about making me go to prostitution with you again. Also, I'm moving out today, and I won't see you again unless it's absolutely necessary."
Under her bewildered gaze, I continued coldly, "But that doesn't mean you have no responsibility or obligation towards me. I'm still a minor, and you still have to transfer my living expenses and tuition fees to my card on time until I turn eighteen. Otherwise, I'll sue you in court, understand?"
"Xiao...Xiaoyun..." my mother hesitated, tears welling in her eyes.
Although I didn't want to cry in front of her, I couldn't help but shed tears. I wiped them away and said, "For so many years, I've often wondered, am I really your biological daughter?"
My mother looked at me pitifully and murmured, "Xiaoyun, how could you think such a thing?"
I sneered, "Back then, I was only three years old when you abandoned me in our hometown. It wasn't until I graduated from elementary school that you thought of bringing me back to your side. At that time, I thought you still loved me and were willing to take care of me yourself..."
At this point, I couldn't help but choke up, "But I never expected that when I was just thirteen, you would let an old man defile me for a fee, taking my virginity, and then take me with you for four years..." "Prostitutes, sleeping with men..."
I stared at my mother through tears. "How can you treat your own daughter like this? I'm afraid anyone in your shoes would think the same thing, right?"
She burst into tears, lowering her head and sobbing, "Xiaoyun, Mom is so sorry, but..."
She looked up at me, "You really are Mom's biological daughter! Back then, your father had an accident and became a cripple, making our already poor family even worse off. Mom had no other choice but to come here and take this path. Of course, I'm not saying all this to gain your forgiveness. It's understandable that you hate me and don't forgive me, but you shouldn't doubt that I'm your biological mother."
“Okay…” I sobbed, staring at her as I said, “Then why did you bring me out to sell myself? Is this something a mother should do to her daughter?”
My mother cried and said, “I’m sorry, I was blinded by greed. But I was just trying to earn more money so you could have a comfortable life in the future!”
I stopped crying, nodded, and said, “From today onwards, we only have a child support relationship, nothing more.”
After saying that, I picked up my packed luggage and walked out of the house. My mother called out “Xiaoyun” behind me, but the words she wanted to say were replaced by sobs.
Stepping out of the home I had lived in for two years, tears streamed down my face, and I felt a sense of relief, a relief that came from saying goodbye to the past. But this relief was also filled with endless helplessness and sadness.
At the same time, I made up my mind to study hard from now on, to get into a good university in a few years, and to change my destiny with knowledge.
For someone like me, the only way out God gave me was to study.
Time flies. Four years passed, and at eighteen, I was admitted to the law school of a university in the city, becoming a college student.
To save money, I gave up my previous rented apartment after the semester started, making my dormitory my only place to live.
I chose to study law because I felt that legal knowledge could not only help others but also be the best weapon to protect myself. I aspired to become an outstanding lawyer and achieve success.
By then, I had grown into a beautiful young woman, reaching a height of 1.62 meters. I knew that at this age, I couldn't grow any taller.
Due to frequent sexual activity when I was thirteen or fourteen, my normal development was affected, and I didn't reach the height I should have reached; otherwise, I would at least be as tall as my mother, who is 1.65 meters. Fortunately, my height is not considered short for a woman.
During these four years, I rarely saw my mother. Every semester and every month, she would transfer my tuition and living expenses to my account on time until I graduated from high school. Only after my insistence did she stop sending me money.
Although I had asked her to do this, I still felt a little sad when she stopped sending me money. I feel like the last vestige of connection between my mother and me is gone. Perhaps from now on, I'll no longer have her as my mother, and she'll no longer have me as her daughter.
My parents divorced. Due to years of living apart, my father started an affair with a woman in town. After my mother found out, she went through with the divorce proceedings. There was no love left between them.
My mother is still working as a prostitute, even though she's thirty-eight years old; it's her only way to survive.
Not long after finishing my college entrance exams, I worked part-time as a waiter at a bar every night. During the summer vacation, I also took on two other jobs to earn my tuition and living expenses.
During this time, I met a woman named Sister Na. She was a regular at the bar where I worked part-time.
To be precise, I can't really say I knew her, because I've never spoken a word to her. I only know that the bar manager and other waiters respected her greatly. They, along with everyone who drank with Sister Na, regardless of gender or age, all respectfully called her "Sister Na."
Sister Na was around thirty years old, with long, wavy chestnut-brown hair. She was very beautiful, tall, and voluptuous, quite stunning. She also possessed a powerful aura unlike any other woman, a truly commanding presence.
I didn't know what she did for a living, but judging from her attire, demeanor, and the respect others showed her, she seemed wealthy and capable—one of those who were very successful in society.
Although I hadn't spoken to Sister Na yet, we had exchanged glances several times. I don't know why, but from the first moment I saw her, I was irresistibly drawn to her charm.
Every time she came to the bar, whenever I had a spare moment, my eyes would secretly follow her. Every smile, every gesture, was captivating and alluring. I even felt that although I was a pretty girl, compared to her, I was just an ugly duckling.
A few times, when I was stealing glances at her, I couldn't look away in time, and she caught me in the act. Caught off guard, I felt both embarrassed and my heart racing.
Several times, after serving Na-jie's table, I could feel her gaze following me as I left, making my heart flutter.
I didn't know what was wrong with me. Why did I have these strange feelings?
I thought that aside from serving Na-jie, I would never have the chance to speak to her, but unexpectedly, we had our first interaction so soon.
One day in late September, I had a fierce conflict with my three roommates.
Speaking of my three roommates, each one was an oddball. One was an arrogant and domineering rich girl, another had a severe case of princess syndrome, and the third, although from a poor family, was snobbish and opportunistic, becoming the rich girl's follower as soon as she entered school.
Soon, the rich girl also bribed the princess with small favors, and the three of them formed a small clique.
From the first day of school, the rich girl disliked me, teaming up with the other two to target and even bully me. I think it might be because I look poorer than her, but I'm prettier?
Considering I'll be sharing a room with them for four years, and wanting to avoid trouble, I repeatedly tolerated it and even sincerely talked to the rich girl, but she remained unchanged. Having no other choice, I went to my counselor for help. The counselor promised to talk to the rich girl when she had time.
Whether she was just brushing me off and didn't care at all, or whether talking to the rich girl had no effect, my situation of being isolated and targeted by the three of them didn't improve at all.
That afternoon, when I returned to my dorm after class, I found that the clothes I had washed and hung out to dry on the balcony at noon were now soaking wet and lying on my bed, while the balcony was covered with the clothes of the three girls.
I was furious and questioned them about why they had done this. The rich girl, however, said that I had been occupying the common area for too long. I felt she was really going too far and we had a huge argument. If the people from the next dorm hadn't intervened, we would have gotten into a fight.
I went to the counselor and insisted on changing dorm rooms. Unexpectedly, the counselor turned around and lectured me, saying that it takes two to tango, and I shouldn't always think it's everyone else's fault. The three girls got along well, and only I couldn't. Shouldn't I reflect on what I had done wrong? She also said that the school's dorm rooms were all full, and there was no way to change rooms for me. She suggested that I just become a
day student! Leaving the counselor's office, I felt completely helpless. I thought that getting into university would change everything, but I was still being bullied and powerless to fight back.
Furthermore, other children who suffer injustices outside can go home and seek comfort and support from their parents, even having their parents stand up for them. But who can I talk to? Even if I can't afford to offend anyone and choose to commute like the counselor suggested, where would I find a place to stay? Unless I go back to my mother's, but I don't want to.
That night, while working at the bar, I kept worrying about this, becoming more and more upset and aggrieved. During a lull in the work, I ran to a toilet stall and secretly cried, feeling deeply saddened by the immense injustice I had suffered and by my long and miserable life.
Just then, I heard a woman's voice from the next stall, "Hey beautiful lady next door, do you have any toilet paper? I'm out, could you pass me some? Thank you."
I stopped crying, tore off a roll of toilet paper, and passed it over. The woman took it and said "thank you" again.
A little while later, I heard the sound of flushing water from next door, as well as the sound of a door opening and high heels clicking on the floor.
I wiped away my tears, calmed myself down, and got up to leave the stall.
When I reached the sink, I saw Sister Na applying lipstick in front of the mirror. I was slightly startled, wondering if it was the woman who had asked to borrow toilet paper and heard me crying earlier.

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