White Sanatorium (1-4) Author: At This Moment, Chaotic

Author: At This Moment, Messy
Word Count: 10502

Chapter 1

A white sanatorium, located 10 kilometers east of C County, is surrounded by mountains and sparsely populated.
Enclosed by a tall white wall, with mountain springs flowing through it and wide iron gates blocking the way, the sanatorium
is a beautiful and tranquil paradise.

Apart from the staff, almost no outsiders come here. This is because it shelters only the poor,
homeless, and destitute without family to care for them. Strangely, all the residents are women. Even the staff are female.

The only man, of course, is me, the director, Qin Shou, Director Qin. Now 32 years old
, I started working hard 10 years ago, catching the golden age of real estate, and by 30 I was living
the life of a tycoon. I funded the construction of this sanatorium. It

specifically shelters lonely, homeless women. Publicly, it's claimed to be a way of giving back to society, and I've received praise and awards from the media and leaders at all levels
. The government also allocates funds to the sanatorium every year, and many enthusiastic people donate money. It's a
win-win situation, both in terms of fame .

However, what was the real purpose of opening this sanatorium? Hehe, only I know.

At this moment, I am sitting in the director's office on the 9th floor of the office building. No one is
allowed to . Sitting at my desk, I comfortably smoked a cigarette, listening to the work report from the deputy director in front of me.

Wang Hui, that's her name. A smart and capable woman, in her forties. She personally manages the daily work of
the sanatorium . And I just sit back and enjoy the fruits of her labor. I listened absentmindedly, and
the pleasure from my penis made me impatiently interrupt her report. Ignoring her resentful look
, I said, "Okay, that's enough for now, you can go back to work." Hearing that I had dismissed her, Wang Rong reluctantly
got up, put on her clothes to cover her large breasts, then turned her back to me, pulled down her pants, then her underwear, and
spread her legs, sticking her buttocks up, trying her best to expose her genitals. I admired her
for a few minutes and said, "That's enough." She had just finished dressing and left the office. These were the rules, the rules set for the women who
worked . That is, when they came to my office to report or anything, they had to
expose their breasts first, and when they left, they had to expose their private parts for my viewing pleasure. The women here were
my playthings; I was their master. They had to obey the rules I set, and willingly
carry them out . Why? Because it was one of my secrets, or perhaps a mysterious ability. I had
many secrets; sometimes I even felt that I was the most mysterious person in the world. No one could see through me,
and no one could control me. Just like now, the woman hiding under the table, diligently giving me oral sex, was also my
secret. Touching her face, looking at that familiar face and lips swallowing my penis,
the unique pleasure I felt was the same as it had been more than ten years ago, never waning. My hands slid down, caressing her now-
sagging, large breasts, still as excited as they had been back then. Enjoying the pleasure in my lower body, looking at
the breasts I had kneaded until they were deformed, I wondered if my choice back then was right.

I held that familiar body in my arms, habitually stroking those breasts, fiddling with the dark clitoris.

I listened to the cicadas chirping outside, so familiar, just like I heard them as a child. That year, I was in the fourth
grade of elementary school, the same summer, the same cicada chirping. And my life changed that summer.

I had a happy family, my parents were very good to me, they both worked in state-owned enterprises. My mother was
a very beautiful and sexy woman, and my father always felt that marrying her was his lifelong pride. Life had always
been peaceful and warm. But that year, my mother fell ill. A perfectly healthy person suddenly collapsed.

After being taken to the hospital and undergoing surgery, she remained unconscious. My father's face grew paler day by day, and
I was terrified. I cried and called my mother's name by her bedside, but there was no response. One day, the doctor told my father that
my mother was in a vegetative state due to a congenital cerebral vascular malformation hemorrhage. They said she was lucky to survive;
the chances were very low. My father carried my mother home and spent his days caring for me and my mother, who was in a coma.
Time can erase everything, but it can also change everything. At that time, I didn't understand. As the years went by,
my father stopped caring for my mother as before. He rarely came home, and apart from giving me a small allowance for food each month, he was often
nowhere to be seen during the day. I was left to care for my mother alone. I was terrified. Often, my father would
come home late, reeking of alcohol, ignoring me, and go straight to my mother's room, closing the door. Soon after, I would hear his heavy
breathing and his final snores. I was very curious, wondering what my father was doing. So, after several times, I
finally found an opportunity. That time, my father was very drunk, staggering home and going straight to my mother's room.
I followed him. He was so drunk he hadn't even closed the door. I stood at the door, seemingly unable to see me. Next, I
watched as my father stood by the bed, pulling back the covers from my mother's body and repeatedly rubbing her chest. Then, he roughly
tore off her clothes and pants, his hands roaming over her body, rubbing and kneading. I was terrified; I thought
he was going to hit my mother. I didn't know what was happening. I stood frozen in the doorway, too afraid to move. I watched as my father
kissed my mother's chest, then sucked hard on her nipple, while one hand moved back and forth over her genitals
.

I saw thick, dark hair growing on my mother's genitals, but nothing else. Was my father touching
that tuft of hair? Then I watched as my father buried his head between my mother's legs. I saw
his . I felt like he was licking something—was it the thick hair, or
something inside it? I didn't know. This made me very curious. After a while, my father stood up unsteadily
, took off his clothes, and I saw that his genitals were erect, with a thick, long penis. I watched as that
penis plunged directly into my mother's thick pubic hair, and he thrust repeatedly
between her legs, holding her spread thighs. With each vigorous movement, my father's voice grew more rapid. After a while, I saw
him stop moving, his body tremble a few times, and then he collapsed onto my mother and began to snore. I didn't know
what they were doing, but I realized this was something I shouldn't have seen. If my father found out, I'd get
a severe beating.

I carefully closed their door and went back to my room to sleep.

这种事一直持续着，只要听见父亲的喘息声，我就知道父亲又在做我看到的
运动了。虽然我几次去偷看，都没发现，到底母亲那茂盛的黑毛里面到底有什么，
值得父亲又是摸又是舔又是撞的。但是我知道，父亲很喜欢母亲那里。时间一长，
我的好奇心越来越重，也给了我胆量。趁中午，父亲不在家的时候，我给母亲喂
下流质的食物。然后像做贼一样，腿下母亲的裤子。一撮茂盛的黑毛就映入了我
的眼前。我小心翼翼分开母亲的大腿，像看看那里究竟有什么。但是接下来让我
很失望，在那中间长着像竖立的嘴一样的东西，怪怪的，和我的下面不一样，就
没有其它东西了。满足了我的好奇，也让我失望，那时的我不懂，所以之后也再
也没在意过了。父亲也越来越颓废，经常喝的大醉伶仃，脾气也越来越暴躁，经
常发酒疯揍我。我也越来越怕他。 I often heard the neighbors gossiping about him, saying he was an alcoholic, a gambler,
and always borrowed money to gamble, never paying it back. The neighbors avoided him, afraid to ask for money. Unfortunately, tragedy
struck soon after. One night, shortly after my father returned home, our door was kicked open. I was terrified and hid
under the bed, too scared to come out. A moment later, I heard my father scream, "Even if you beat me to death, you won't have the money to pay me back. Give me
some time, I promise I'll pay you back. I have a patient who needs treatment, and I really have no money right now!" "You're kidding me! You think you
can get away with this? My brothers and I will cripple you right now, believe it or not!" a strange, sinister voice said. I was so scared
I wanted to cry. "If you don't believe me, look! I really do have a patient who needs money. You're driving me to my death!"
There were footsteps and the sound of a door opening. Then I heard my father say, "Look, this is my wife. She's in
a vegetative state and needs money for treatment. I'm not lying to you. Please have pity on me and give me a little more time. I promise I'll pay you back."

Silence. A long, silent silence followed. After a long while, the unfamiliar voice finally spoke,
"You really have no money?" "Really? If I had money, would I not pay it back? I'm being harassed and beaten by you every day, do you think I want that
?"

the father pleaded helplessly. Another silence. "Actually, you don't have to pay it back. There's a
way you can still earn money, it just depends on whether you're willing." "Really? What way?" The father's voice gained
a little vitality. "It's simple, it's your wife. She's in a vegetative state, I know. Aside from not being able to move
or speak, she's no different from a normal person, she can still prostitute herself. How about it? If you agree,
you come and watch your wife every day, we'll bring in customers for you, and we'll split the profits. In two years at most,
you'll pay off the debt. You'll even earn a considerable amount. I'm telling you, this is your only chance. Think it over carefully.
If you don't agree, we'll take one of your hands today. Think about it, my patience is limited." Silence
. Not a sound. "Do you mean what you say?" the father asked, trembling. "Haha, so you
agree ?

That's good, don't worry. We people in this business have our own rules. You see, I'm just finding you a way out,
I don't mean to force you. It'll be better for everyone from now on, right?" "Okay, I agree," my father's
tone became much more resolute. "Well, that's good. Here's what you do, you and a few of my brothers go outside and keep watch.

" "What are you going to do?" my father asked anxiously. "What are you going to do? Oh, I forgot to mention, this is also our
rule. Anyone who comes out to sell has to be 'opened' by us first.

This way you can get used to it first. Red Hair, you take him and the brothers out first, and teach him
the procedures of this business. After I'm done, you can come one by one." "Okay, big brother, get out
of here!" a sleazy voice said excitedly.

I hid under my bed in my room, too afraid to come out. There was no more talking outside. I could only hear
the man's panting and the sounds of slapping against his body coming from my mother's room. The sounds were the same as when my father entered the room before,
but even more intense. I could imagine, just like my father, He was relentlessly thrusting into my mother's
thick tuft of black hair. The sound continued, and I don't know when I fell asleep under the bed.
A series of footsteps and laughter woke me up, and I quickly ran to the door to listen outside. "I can't believe it, this woman's
body is so damn voluptuous, her breasts are so big, her ass is so round, her pussy feels so good, and she's even reacting,
we made her so wet. It's a pity she can't move, otherwise it would be even better." "Yeah, yeah, I could
lick her pussy until it's wet, so delicious!" "Brother, can we come again another day?" "If we don't come, who
will go to him for money? Don't worry, as long as it doesn't interfere with business, you can do whatever you want." Hahaha, listening to those people's
lewd laughter and conversation, I was filled with anger. But I didn't know what to do. After they left, I
came out and saw my father squatting at my mother's door, head down, smoking incessantly, a pile of cigarette butts on the ground. He raised his head
and looked at me quietly, his eyes so unfamiliar, so indifferent. After a long while, he stared at me and said, "You're not allowed to tell anyone about
last night , or I'll break your legs. Just focus on your studies,
don't worry about anything else. Go, go to school." I nodded and left.

Chapter Two

From that day on, strangers frequently came to our house, taking turns paying my father, then entering my mother's
room , leaving after a few breaths and some slapping sounds. At first, my father watched them go in with a sullen face, but as
the money in his pocket increased, the cigarettes I bought became more and more expensive. He started to smile, and he treated me
better, no longer beating me as often. Every few days, someone would come to collect money from my father, and my father would call them brother
and escort them into my mother's room, leaving after a few breaths. I was still completely oblivious to all of this.

That year, I started junior high school. I began to hear my classmates talking about me behind my back, saying that my mother
was a prostitute. From that year on, those who were pressuring my father to pay back the money never came again. And so I began to understand
matters between men and women. Since my father was still at home collecting money, no one cared about me. I started
hanging out smoking, drinking, playing cards, and fighting. One of the local thugs became our sworn brother, often leading us
in fights. That's when I understood why my classmates said my mother was a prostitute. I began to hate my father,
hating him for not stopping. He had beaten me several times, making me forever live a lowly, humiliating life, despised and shamed by others. In my second year
of junior high , my older brother invited a few of us brothers out drinking. When he drank too much, he loved to show off in front of us.

That day, he told us he'd slept with another woman, a woman in her thirties, who was in
a vegetative state.

He got more and more excited as he talked, describing how he stimulated her vagina, sucked her breasts,
kissed her anus, and after penetrating her vagina, he'd thrust his penis into her anus, like a date rape, and how incredibly pleasurable it felt.
The thugs around listened excitedly, asking where it was. They all wanted to see the enormous breasts
and wet vagina their boss had described. Only I felt a volcanic eruption within me. My gaze at him was terrifyingly cold, yet he
ignorantly continued to boast about his exploits.

For over a month, I followed him. During that time, he even had sex with my
vegetative mother several times. My heart grew colder and colder. Tonight, I finally got my chance. It was 3 a.m.
, and I watched him leave the bar alone. The streets were deserted. He drunkenly walked into a side alley
to urinate . Just as he pulled out his penis, I rushed behind him, a stolen fruit knife in my hand,
and stabbed him repeatedly in the back. Watching him fall, I ran away, throwing the knife into the river. Back home,
I lived in fear for days. The police didn't catch him, and time passed, and I heard that
my older brother had almost died from blood loss and was now in a vegetative state. Haha, I felt much better;
I thought it was karma. Life went on as usual. I went to school as usual,
and remained at home, working as a pimp. I hated him, but I was also afraid of him. I
was helpless about my mother's situation. One night, it was raining heavily, with thunder and lightning. It was past 2 a.m., and one last customer
was still in my mother's room. Along with the violent thuds, I vaguely heard a woman's moans. I ran out of the room and
saw my father stand up, his expression agitated, staring intently at the door. He listened intently, his fists clenched. Ah!

...The sound was faint, but it was definitely there. Oh.

...Ah...still faint. Suddenly, a loud scream rang out, and a naked person ran out of
the room. They kept shouting, "They're alive! They're alive!" and then grabbed their clothes and ran out. I
was about to go in to check on my mother when my father blocked my way and yelled at me, "Go back to your room,
now !" Then he went inside and slammed the door shut. What had happened inside? Had my mother woken up?
I listened outside for a long time, unwilling to give up, but there was no sound. I angrily went back to my room. The next day,
my father woke me up early, and together we took my mother to the hospital. The doctor told us it was a
miracle; she must have been awakened by some powerful stimulus. However, due to
the shock and the damage from the surgery, the patient's brain would suffer irreversible damage. This damage could manifest as amnesia,
paralysis of the limbs, etc., varying from person to person. My mother's diagnosis was
irreversible . My mother had the mental capacity of a child only a few years old—that was the definitive conclusion. The doctor comforted us, saying that
the "great fortune" amidst the misfortune was that she could at least take care of herself and learn simple daily activities. And so, my mother was brought home
again . My father resumed his pimping. The only change was that
when my mother wasn't seeing clients, she would sit on the sofa in the living room. I could see her more often now. Looking at her bald head, I felt a pang of sorrow.

The doctor had said it was a sequela of her serious illness, and she might never grow hair again. Every time
a client came, my father would call me back to my room, and then I would gradually hear my mother's moans and
the sounds of violent thrusting.

When I started junior high, my penis had grown a lot of hair, and I had matured
considerably. I knew that the hair that looked like my mother's genitals was pubic hair. What I had seen of my mother's genitals were female
reproductive organs—the kind of place men were willing to pay to play with. As I entered puberty, I began to have a
strong . The body I had seen of my mother before was now only a vague memory, which only fueled my longing.

Through my efforts, I drilled a hole in the wall of my room with a knife, so I could see my
mother being raped next door. My father, preoccupied with collecting money, wouldn't
notice the inconspicuous little hole. The clients' attention was entirely focused on my mother's naked body, so they wouldn't
notice anyone peeping. This method always worked for me. Every night, I would peek into my mother's room through the hole.
I watched her still-large breasts being played with and sucked by different men. I watched her
kneeling on the bed at someone's command, letting men rub her bald head with penises, sucking different penises. She squeezed her
breasts, different penises rubbing back and forth between her chest. Standing on the bed or leaning against the wall with her back to me, she spread her legs,
letting others play with and lick her genitals. Countless nights, I saw countless penises
thrusting in and out of my mother's genitals. I also heard her constant moans and heard her breasts swaying up and down as she was being fucked, each time
making my penis as hard as steel. I started masturbating while watching these lewd scenes. This became
one of my few hobbies. As time went on, I could no longer satisfy my daily voyeurism. Every
time I saw my mother being trained like a sex slave, skillfully having sex with customers, a surge of lust would rise within me
, wanting to rush up and take the man's place. But I knew I could only think about it, not act on it.

Life went on like this. One night, I was in evening self-study at school. My father came and called me out
to tell me that my mother had gone out and gotten lost while he was out buying cigarettes and alcohol, and they still hadn't found her. He told me to go
and find my mother, while he went home to drink.

I was given a death order: I wasn't allowed to go home until I found my mother. So at 3 a.m., I was still
searching . I had searched the whole city, so I had to come to the suburbs. And this was the only place I hadn't searched before
, just a small hill in the suburbs. There was a small grove of trees in the hill.

I followed the mountain path up the hill. I heard voices at the edge of the woods. I went in and what I saw made
my eyes bloodshot. Although I'd looked through the wall many times before, this time the view was much wider . Before me stood a man, his body
contorted in a grotesque manner. His thick, fleshy penis was relentlessly thrusting into my mother's genitals. Her breasts were being forcefully kneaded by another man standing in front of her. A grotesque penis was deeply inserted into my mother's mouth. Watching my mother cry in fear, being penetrated from both ends, my mind went blank. My body instinctively surged forward, and I threw a punch…

They started hitting me. The result was predictable: I was brutally beaten, collapsing to the ground covered in blood,
barely breathing. I just watched as they continued to rape my mother.

I don't know how much time passed. When I woke up, I found myself in a cave, my mother sitting naked
beside me. My mind was flooded with memories, chaotic and blurry. Through careful sorting, these
memories were completely integrated. This filled me with astonishment; if I hadn't experienced it firsthand, I simply wouldn't have believed this
was still my original world. It turned out that while I was unconscious, my mother was also being gang-raped by those two men. When they finished,
they found I was dead. They were ruthless; they found a secluded spot nearby and started digging a hole
to bury my mother and me. However, after digging for a short time, the ground collapsed, revealing
a bottomless pit. Without thinking, they threw me in, then, with a reluctant
pinch, squeezed my mother's breasts a few times before throwing her in as well.

Then I ran away. What happened next surprised me. Below me lay a shattered fossil of a giant snake,
which, according to my memory, was a creature from ancient times. Much older than
the perhaps even the time when the Earth was first formed. My memories of it are few and
vague. I only know that when I fell, I landed squarely on this giant snake fossil. Due to its age,
the fossil was fragile and shattered at the slightest touch. From the broken fossil rolled a fist-sized purple bead, which rolled
to my side. My blood flowed over the bead, and it slowly dissolved, turning into
a purple liquid that flowed back into my body with my blood. With the help of this purple liquid, my body
began , and my heart and breathing started functioning again. That's how I miraculously revived. Now I feel my body
has been terrifyingly strengthened; my functions are at least a hundred times stronger than before—I can't even fully grasp it. I experimented
inside the cave for a while, and felt that aside from not being able to fly and not wearing red underwear on the outside, I was practically a superhuman. Because I had only a small portion of the giant snake's memories, I knew I also possessed an ability: bewitching. Through my terrifyingly enhanced mental strength, I could control a creature for a short time to do anything I wanted it to do. Furthermore, through the bead's enhancement and mutation of my bloodline, I had acquired a special bloodline talent. This filled me with both sorrow and excitement. This talent made me ashamed , yet incredibly powerful. It allowed me to enslave others through mating with the opposite sex, ensuring they would never betray me, and it also allowed me to enhance my various abilities by mating with different members of the opposite sex. I felt this talent was nothing short of the legendary beastly art, or, to put it more poetically, the Yin-Yang dual cultivation technique. 　　My resurrection drastically changed my personality. I was no longer the weak and incompetent person I once was; my intelligence had also been greatly developed. Looking at my naked mother beside me, a smile curved my lips, and an idea surfaced. I led my mother out of the cave, found her clothes, and dressed her. 　　Then we went home. As soon as I got home, my father gave me a severe beating. I pretended to be scared and let him beat and scold me. Afterwards , he pulled my mother into the room to continue his prostitution business. When night fell, I secretly ran away from home and went to the police station. What happened next was predictable. I led the police back home and caught a customer harassing my mother. My father was caught red-handed and taken to the police station. Within a few days, he was convicted of forcing women into prostitution and sentenced to 15 years in prison. 　　　　　　　　　　　　Chapter 3 　　I naively thought that my father's departure ended my mother's tragedy and also ended my dark childhood. 　　My mother and I would live happily ever after. 　　Haha, how ignorant I was back then. 　　The dark house seemed to reject us even from the sunlight. 　　On the damp sofa, my mother played with my hair like a child. 　　Perhaps it was innate, the black hair that made her feel close to me. 　　I sat next to my mother, enduring waves of hunger. 　　Tears welled up in my eyes. 　　It was then that I realized how heavy life was for a 15-year-old boy. 　　My father has been gone for three days. We don't have a single penny left; all the money my mother earned through her physical labor was confiscated as a fine . 　　Relatives and neighbors turn their backs on me with disgust, 　　refusing to let me in. 　　For three days, the only food we had was given to me by an old man who collected garbage, who gave it to me when he saw me staring blankly at the half-eaten steamed bun in his hand. 　　I couldn't bear to eat it. My mother never said she was hungry; she just smiled foolishly at home. 　　　　　　　　　　When I watched her wolf down the bun 　　, I couldn't hold back my tears any longer, and they streamed down my face. 　　My mother frantically wiped away my tears . 　　Is this just my mother's instinctive nature?! When I was little, when I fell and cried, my mother would always have a warm smile, wiping away my tears 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　and 　　snot while comforting me with heartache, encouraging me to be a man and not be afraid. 　　Now, my mother has lost her memory, her wisdom, almost everything, and she's still instinctively comforting me … Mother, how can I take care of you? Protect you? 　　Night gradually fell, and I fell asleep beside my mother. 　　Aside from hunger, the night could be so peaceful. 　　I had dropped out of school and received no pity. 　　I began to live aimlessly, going to the garbage dump in the western suburbs every night to scavenge for trash, carrying it home to sell at dawn. 　　I dared not go during the day, even though I could find more valuable trash then, but I couldn't afford it. 　　I overestimated my abilities, thinking that after that extraordinary encounter, I would be powerful. 　　When I fought those people for trash during the day, I took down two adults, but was then beaten like a dog by more than ten adults . 　　Dragging my blood-soaked body home, I realized that I 　　was not Superman; my physical strength was at most the combined strength of three adults. 　　And I was still a child, my mind not mature enough, I didn't understand cruelty. 　The kind of cruelty that those garbage gang members used—steel bars, iron rods, discarded knives—to smash down on me.

The only saving grace was that my recovery was decent; within three days, all the cracks and blisters on my body gradually healed.

Our meals were terrible; we could only drink porridge and eat scraps of vegetables picked up from the market.

Perhaps it was the benefit of the purple bead, but although I was always hungry and

noticeably thin

, I was energetic and my physical condition was slowly improving.

However, my mother gradually lost weight, her skin turning pale and yellowish. Most of the food went to her
, yet her condition continued to deteriorate, which troubled me greatly.

Looking at my mother's thin body, and her

breasts peeking out from her faded, tattered clothes,

her nipples and areolas, blackened from being played with, swaying so pitifully in the dark room,

I deeply hated myself for not taking good care of her.

It was another desolate night, dry and silent, the chirping of insects irritating me.

Carrying a woven bag and smoking a half-pack of cheap cigarettes someone had left behind,
I

I stopped in front of a three-story detached house.

Two men were staring at me nervously.

One of them, probably in his twenties, glared at me fiercely and threatened in a low voice, "Kid,
what at? Get lost, or I'll beat you to death."

He then raised an iron rod, ready to strike me.

"No, Third Brother, no, this is my friend, someone I know," the other

man, about my age, quickly stepped in front of me.

"Ah Shou, it's me.

Don't you recognize me? I'm Crazy," I finally recognized him. He was a
young thug with blond hair, a bright red and green shirt, and jeans with ripped knees.

He was the guy I used to fight and brag with, but he

'd been expelled from school long ago.

His parents were divorced, and like me, he had no one to care for him, so we got along quite well. I

hadn't seen him in a long time, so I greeted him happily.

"Hey, Crazy, I didn't recognize you earlier."

Crazy was also happy and was about to say something more when two more men, about my age, came down

from upstairs

. They were dressed similarly to Crazy and looked like hooligans.

The man in his twenties asked the two men, "Did you get it?" One of them waved a bag in his hand.

"Let's go," the man said, grabbing the bag and walking away.

The madman leaned closer to me and whispered something

, then followed him away.

I squatted down, smoking.

Since I wasn't in a hurry to go home, I did as the madman had suggested and waited for him under the South Bridge, at the place where we used to smoke together.

After a while, I saw a furtive figure approaching.

"Damn, it's not easy to see you," the madman said, punching me

and laughing

.

I smiled at him, silently smoking, without getting up.

Although I was happy to see him again, the pressures of life made me unsure what to say to him.

He was silent for a moment, then lit a cigarette and offered me one. "I went to
your school,

they

said you dropped out." I looked up at him, lit my cigarette with the light he offered, and continued smoking.

No one spoke; the atmosphere was oppressive.

"Hey, I've heard about your situation.

I've asked so many people, but no one knows where you live.

What are you doing now?"

"Collecting and selling garbage," I sighed

.

"Are you short of money?"

"Yeah, I have no food."

"Damn, it can't be that bad! Don't your relatives care? Isn't there welfare?" Crazy
asked in surprise.

"Nobody cares. They don't even look at me when they come to visit.

Welfare?! Humph! I've been there so many times, and they always

make excuses. In the end, they only give me 60 yuan a month! What am I supposed to eat?!" I said bitterly.

Crazy stared at me in surprise, speechless.

"Ah Shou, come work with me. You'll get paid, and you won't have to worry about food. As long as you're smart, you 'll be fine," Crazy
said seriously.

I stood up and stared at

him. "Like what you just did, stealing?"

"Yes, we don't know how to do anything else. This is quick money. My older brother is very experienced in this. We've
never been caught.

Come on, I'll take you to my older brother. He's very loyal."

Seeing my hesitation , the madman quickly added, "How much

money can you make picking up trash? Even if you don't care about yourself, you should think about your crazy... um, your mother, don't you think?" 　　I shuddered. Yes, my mother. 　　"Take this money first, it's what I got tonight, don't be shy. 　　I'll go back and talk to my older brother. Come find me at Tianyi Billiards Hall tomorrow afternoon 　　, remember to come early." After saying that, the madman forced 200 yuan into my hand and punched me again as he left. 　Watching his departing figure, I whispered, "Thank you." 　　With the money, I didn't go home, but went to the entrance of the vegetable market. The 　　stalls start setting up here at 4 o'clock, and I usually come to pick up vegetables around this time. 　　Today I came late, and it took me a long time to pick up some that people had thrown away. 　　When I got to the meat stall, I stopped. 　　　　　　　　　　　　Looking at the hanging pork 　　belly, I swallowed hard, clutching the 200 yuan in my pocket and hesitating for a long time. 　　Finally, after hesitantly asking the price, I bought one pound of pork belly. 　　I excitedly returned home. 　　At noon, watching my mother happily eat the boiled pork, mumbling "delicious, so fragrant," 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　a 　　pang of pain shot through me. 　　I clenched my fists, watching my mother eat, and silently made a decision.

After cleaning up the dishes, I went out.

Tianyi Billiards Room was a place my buddies and I used to hang out.

Almost everyone there was a hoodlum.

I heard a commotion as soon as I got downstairs.

Going up, I saw Crazy being brutally beaten to the ground by a slightly older thug. Two groups of people were standing
by including the boss Crazy had recognized that night.

He looked terrible and didn't help.

There were several other guys on the other side, all around 17 or 18 years old.

I didn't care about

anything else; I rushed over and kicked the thug on top of Crazy, sending him flying to the ground,
seemingly knocked unconscious.

I pulled Crazy aside to protect him, which also intimidated everyone.

My strength had increased considerably, and no one dared to approach.

Those thugs, realizing they couldn't beat

me, glared at Crazy's boss, said "Go ahead and try," and left.

The madman's boss, Third Brother, warmly pulled me and the madman to sit around a table. He generously told
me to call him Third Brother and follow him like the madman.

I had already made up my mind that for

money and for my mother, I would do anything.

I accepted him as my boss and started calling him Third Brother.

That's how I started following him.

I was smart and quick; I learned the thieving techniques Third Brother taught me very quickly, and I was even more skilled than him.

This made him proud and valued me highly. I did all

the hard work of

breaking into houses and stealing money; the others were only responsible for scouting and keeping watch.

I also got the most money.

I could easily get over 2000 yuan a month.

The family's meals improved significantly, and my mother became fuller every day.

This made me very happy

and motivated me to steal even more.

Third Brother was also a very shrewd man. When I was 18, Third Brother got
close .

He helped him guard construction sites, and gradually, he started to contract construction sites himself through connections.

Third Brother's gang grew larger and larger. With money, he started running underground casinos and KTVs. We, his

underlings, began working for him, running the establishments, selling ecstasy, and beating and threatening migrant workers.

I became the top enforcer in City C.

His two brothers managed his business and finances.

We, his old subordinates, remained small-time thugs.

But no one dared to be dissatisfied.

That was Third Brother's method.

When a person has money, they become restless and their true nature is revealed.

Third Brother began indulging in debauchery, constantly changing women.

He had slept with every KTV hostess.

He used threats and bribes to seduce countless respectable women, which made us realize that Third Brother was a very lecherous
boss .

This was

none of my business.

Every day, besides taking care of my mother, fighting, running the establishments, and drinking and fooling around with a few underlings, that was my
life.

I never had any grand ambitions and was quite satisfied with my current life.

But he shouldn't have, he shouldn't have set his sights on my mother.

Author: At This Moment, Messy
Word Count: 3600
Previous Chapter: thread-9087736-1-1.html

Chapter 4

This year, I was 22 years old. My third brother entrusted me with managing a KTV. The requirement was that I
had to be there every night at 10 PM and 2 AM, the closing time, and finish sorting out the accounts before I could go home. I
usually didn't get home until 3 AM, by which time my mother was already asleep. Crazy was still

my good brother, and I was grateful to him and to my third brother for taking me in. Crazy was assigned to be a small foreman at a
construction site , so he had more free time. He would often come to the place I managed to drink and chat with me. But
he hadn't come for a while. Every time I called him, he would stammer

and make excuses. He only came to see me once in a long while, and his eyes were always darting around
. Even when we drank, he didn't seem to enjoy it and seemed distracted. Today was the off-season, so I specifically invited him over for drinks, wanting to ask him if he
needed any help from me. The madman shook his head, seemingly wanting to

say something but remaining silent no matter how I tried to persuade him. I got angry too, ignored him, and prepared to close the door and go home early. Outside the KV
, the madman suddenly ran over and dragged me to the riverbank, preventing me from going home. Finally, at the riverbank, where no one was around , he
knelt before me, burying his face in his hands and weeping bitterly, repeatedly apologizing.

I listened quietly to his story, the stones beneath my feet cracking under my weight. My heart had never felt so
cold, and my murderous intent had never been so strong. Still clinging to a sliver of hope, I asked him questions, and the madman, his eyes bloodshot,
led me to his house. I sat quietly on the sofa,

holding a memory card in my hand—a camera card I recognized. The madman said it was
a gift from his former underlings, meant for his enjoyment. Inserting it into the computer, I saw everything. My mother, completely naked, squatted
on the ground, diligently sucking the eldest brother's penis. Her full breasts

were being kneaded and deformed. On the sofa, watching my mother's spread legs, the boss's hand relentlessly probed
her vulva. Her thick pubic hair was disheveled and covered in saliva. The violent sounds of the thrusting
and my mother's moans were so jarring. A

close-up of the penis thrusting in and out of my mother's vagina, her dark labia swallowing and spitting out the grotesque shaft. The semen-covered head of my mother's bald head
and her beast-like roars of orgasm made me want to kill him immediately. The madman, seeing me finish watching,
remained eerily calm. He said, "This is just a recording. The boss

has a hobby of recording sex." Seeing I didn't speak, he continued, "My underling said it's happened
many times. The boss manages the place for you, restricts your home hours, just so he can... uh... that's
it. He's in charge of filming, and afterwards, several

underlings take turns playing with her, then he cleans up the scene. You won't find out when you get home." Looking at the madman's hesitant expression...
I stared at him coldly and said, "Speak!!!" The madman swallowed hard, composed himself, and said, "My little brother said that
ever since the boss met your mother, he's been unusually interested. He

said he's never been with anyone like her before. My brother's mother is mentally challenged and used to be a prostitute. Just thinking about it
is exciting!" *Bang!* I smashed the table with my fist. I stood up, panting, wanting to kill that bastard.
The madman held me tightly, shouting, "Ah Shou, you have to calm down!

You can't kill the boss. He always has several professional bodyguards with guns. Even if you kill
someone, you won't escape. His two brothers won't let you go, and neither will the police.
Who will take care of your mother then? You have to calm down!" My

mind was a complete blank; I just stood there, motionless. My fists clenched and unclenched, then clenched again.
I wanted him dead, without a doubt. But what could I do to clear my name? I racked my brains, but
to no avail . I drank heavily at the madman's house, and finally, at his urging

and instructions, I staggered home. The madman had told me that the eldest brother had come to my house again that night. Kneeling
beside my mother's bed, holding her sleeping hand, I wept softly, filled with deep guilt. I still hadn't protected my
mother! Still clinging to a sliver of hope, I pulled back my mother's

blanket, removed her clothes, and in the dim light of the lamp, I saw the lingering
red finger marks on her breasts. I gently separated my mother's breasts... Her legs, the semen and vaginal fluid should have been washed away, but
the lingering red marks on her inner thighs proved that my mother

had been violated again.

I tenderly stroked her body, inadvertently waking her. Even when she was still a prostitute,
the clients had used her limited intelligence to "train" her. So when I stroked her body and woke her
, she instinctively turned

to face me, willingly spreading her legs, revealing her thick pubic hair and dark labia, awaiting my
entry. I stood there, stunned. My untouched penis instinctively sprang to attention, looking at the uninserted
shaft, I couldn't remember when my mother had pulled it from my

pants... I pulled it out. She lay face down on the bed, her face against my penis, her hands guiding it into her
mouth . A buzzing sound filled my mind. All I could see was my mother's white, full buttocks swaying on the bed. My hands,
without my noticing, began to knead her dangling breasts.

So soft, so big, so full.

All other thoughts vanished; I only wanted to savor that childhood longing. I turned my mother over, making her lie on her back on the bed, her
head against the edge, continuing to suckle my penis. I leaned down, placing my head
between , looking at that

black vulva that had once stirred my desire and made me drool for so long. Suddenly, my dormant animalistic nature was awakened. I took
my mother's vulva into my mouth, growing increasingly thirsty… Kissing, licking, sucking—that
blackened clitoris, once played with and tasted by countless men. A slightly sour, slightly pungent

taste—is this what a woman's private parts are like? Since living with my mother, my libido has been frozen
. Struggling to make a living, matters of the heart have only existed in my youthful voyeurism and hearsay. Like a wild beast, I
fiercely devoured my mother's clitoris, my tongue instinctively plunging into

her vagina, swirling inside.

My mother's salty vaginal fluid flowed into my mouth along with my tongue, and also down her slightly dark, constantly
contracting anus. My penis, hard as iron from my mother's sucking, thick and menacing. Like those men who had slept with her, I
once again turned her over

. I pulled my mother to the bedside, lifted her spread thighs, and positioned her thick pubic hair and dark,
open vulva directly in front of my penis. My engorged glans pressed against that watery opening, slowly
sliding into my mother's rectum along with the overflowing vaginal fluid. My younger brothers had told me that men experience pain the first time

, feeling the woman's vagina tighten. I felt none of that. My mother's vagina felt
loose, not tight at all; only the warm, smooth sensation continuously transmitted to my penis. This still
excited me, a virgin, and I thrust even more vigorously beneath her thick

, dark pubic hair. Her two full, moist, dark labia clung to my penis,
rubbing together with my mother's vagina, sharing in the pleasure. The pungent smell of vaginal fluid quickly filled the room. The overlapping, trembling
figures on the wall, accompanied by the undulating moans and heavy breathing, seemed to float

away, a swirling, illusory, intoxicating scene. Finally, the peach blossoms fell silently, only the thick white fluid flowing from her black
lips testifying to my whereabouts.

Mother and son slept naked, embracing each other. In the morning, the tingling sensation of my penis awakened me. Seeing my mother straddling my genitals,
greedily accepting my erect penis, I was speechless, then filled with endless regret. I tried to stop my mother, but she became even
more proactive, kneeling on top of me, guiding my penis into her vagina. Her large breasts jiggled with her hips. For 　　me,
experiencing this for the first time…

Once again, my morality crumbled. I sucked deeply on
my mother her full buttocks, my penis still being swallowed and released by her genitals. The sensitive glans rhythmically
struck her cervix. Exhilarating pleasure made me ejaculate

inside her again. After the pleasure subsided, I was surprised to find myself recalling that strange encounter. I
quickly noticed the unusual sensation in my body. Hahaha, the surprise made me laugh wildly. I embraced my mother's body
and gave her a long, passionate French kiss, celebrating my

long-forgotten, awakened ability after intercourse—seduction! At that moment, the powerful ability quickly overcame the guilt of my immoral
act . I pressed my mother down once more... Beneath me, I parted my mother's labia and thrust my penis in relentlessly,
keeping her moans and groans flowing all day long. This is

my ability to make love; it not only enhances a woman's physical attributes and sexual stamina, but it
also strengthens all my own abilities, and my special skills are constantly improving. I can seduce my mother into doing any
lewd action I desire. With a thought, she will spread

her legs, masturbate herself, and insert her fingers into her anus—things she never did before
, but now she can do with ease under my control. This ability is incredible.

After tidying up and having dinner, I left with a cruel smile. Tonight, the boss will be back to clean up my place.
His two brothers were also coming to inspect the accounts. I called my underlings and set up the venue early, waiting for them. In a
private room, I drank with the boss and his group, then saw them off.

Little did they know, I had already planted my mark on each of them. Three days later,
to the astonishment of my underlings, the boss handed over all assets and affairs to me, appointing me as
the new boss. The next day, the boss took his cronies on

a trip, but unfortunately, the car and everyone rolled off a cliff.

I, along with my underlings, swiftly purged any dissenting voices within the gang. Madman became my
second-in-command, managing everything for me. Madman was clever; he didn't ask questions he shouldn't, and he didn't think about them. I smoothly took over
everything . From then on, I was in charge. I began to adapt

to cruelty and learned the methods. I was smarter and more domineering than Third Brother. He could
rest in peace seeing such a good disciple in the afterlife, learning everything from him and surpassing him, hahaha.

Riding the wave of the real estate boom, I began to use manipulation, bribery, and intimidation. My business grew larger and larger. My holdings of
assets . Money became just a number to me; I had lost my desire for it. The madman and
several of my confidants had become bosses, each

managing one of my vast empires.

I began to enjoy life, living like Brother Three. Women, of course, were indispensable;
the women I had slept with could never escape my control. They bore my mark deep within their souls, becoming my
free- yet loyal slaves. Perhaps it was the shadow of my youth,

or perhaps it was because my first woman was my mother. My psyche was already twisted, with
a particular fondness . Coupled with my unique abilities, I began to relentlessly ravage the mature, respectable women around me to
satisfy my perverse pleasure, turning them into my loyal

slaves. This also made my manipulative abilities increasingly powerful.

Ending my youthful memories, embracing the body before me, I laughed gleefully. This sanatorium was
the beginning of my new game. On the large desk, I laid down that familiar body. He spread her thighs and kissed the familiar
black clitoris; it tasted the same as always, the taste of his mother.

His thick, hard penis still lingered inside her vagina.

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