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The Rise of Poor Alice

My mother was a hotel room manager in her youth. One day, she found a used condom in the trash can of a hotel room. She had an outrageous idea and used the seminal fluid inside the condom to conceive a child. Later, she became pregnant, and that’s how I was born. And my biological father was a super wealthy man!

Potatoloveschips · สมัยใหม่
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
13 Chs

1

My mother, who had dropped out of elementary school, started this private plastic surgery clinic. Despite being semi-illiterate, she became a surgeon, specializing in intimate plastic surgeries for men.

Each surgery would earn her $100,000, and she performed exactly ten surgeries every month. Today was the last surgery of the month.

Beth, who was in her forties, was one of my mother's regular customers had the surgery appointment today. When Beth arrived with her special friend, my mother had just woken up from her nap.

She rubbed her eyes and yawned, "Why are you here so early? It's not even time for the surgery appointment yet." Beth blushed and replied with expectation, "Your surgery skills are so good, I can't wait any longer." Beth's special friend, David also flirted, "Yes, I also want to get it done early so that you can get more pleasure."

David was Beth's new favorite at the present. He was handsome and knew how to please Beth, but he didn't satisfy her in certain sexual love, so she needed my mother's help. She made the surgery appointment for him.

My mother's skills were renowned among wealthy women. Everyone who underwent her surgery was satisfied, but even if wealthy women offered her more money, my mother only performed ten surgeries a month and never added more.

People thought she had a strong personality, but I knew it wasn't that she didn't want to earn more; she simply couldn't. That was because she only had ten of the mysterious meaty eggs each month.

The surgery was about to begin, so Beth left for the VIP room to wait, and my mother asked me to take her close friend for pre-operative preparations.

He was a bit nervous about the surgery, so he asked my mother tentatively, "Mrs Moore, may I ask what material is that?"

Every man who came for surgery knew what it entailed, so it was normal to feel tense.

My mother reassured him, "Don't be nervous, cutie. We use cutting-edge German materials." She winked and added, "No sense of foreign body after the surgery, very comfortable and safe, almost like your own."

I remained silent, uncomfortable, and rubbed my nose.

My mother was lying. Those eggs weren't German materials at all. Instead, she got from a dark and bizarre room. The room was on the sixth floor, the top of our villa.

There was a room locked with multiple door locks. My parents had always warned us three siblings never to go near that room.

When we were little, we were curious and snucked up to the sixth floor when my parents weren't home. Peering through the crack in the door, we wanted to see what was inside.

As soon as we went near, a strong, fishy smell choked us, and we started feeling sick. Later, my parents caught us and punished us harshly. That was the worst they'd ever beaten us, especially my brother.

My parents had always been the most spoiled towards their son, our brother Charles, even to the point of overindulgence.

But that time, he was just standing behind my sister, Jenny, and saw nothing.

Yet, our parents brutally broke one of his legs.

My brother lay in bed for a half year before he could stand up.

Ever since then, we three siblings never dared to go near that room again. But I, with my curious nature, often secretly observed my mother. I found that every morning, she would carry a small box and enter that closed-off black room with furrowed brows.

She would come out minutes later, her brows relaxed, looking as if a great burden had been lifted.

When she came out, her box usually contained a large, flesh-colored egg. It had a murky glow, was wet to the touch, and had a pungent, fishy odor.

My sense of smell was keener than most. With just a few sniffs, I could tell it was the meaty egg. That was the egg my mother used for men's plastic surgery.

Because every man who came down from the operating table would emit that familiar fishy odor.

David listened to my mother and no longer felt nervous. His amorous eyes narrowed flirtatiously, hooking my mother's hand as he said, "Mrs. Moore, be gentle, I'm really afraid of pain." From the moment David entered, I noticed something was off about the way he looked at my mother.

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Hi dear readers, how are you?

This is a new story. hope you like it.

It's not horror, it's a little like fatasy

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