Title: Moma

Author: Mai Lynn

Started: November 11 2004

Finished: July 12 2005

Whoot! A story of Thomas Eric Rivers, my cute whittle character of whom I luffs to torture (Heh, the third of my Trio of Torture). Anyway, his life. This'll be a chapter story gasp an' I hope yins'll enjoy!

Thomas was a beautiful baby. With gorgeous grey eyes that would stare about himself curiously. A little fluff of reddish brown hair upon that darling head of his. His little chubby arms would sometimes flail about as he went to grab a small toy. His little cheeks light up in a toothless smile, a small gurgle of happiness. His red blood running down that cute little button nose as his mother bashed him into the wall. Yes, Thomas was a beautiful baby.....

---Chapter One: An Unfortunate Blessing---

Colleen Anne Rivers. The mere mention of her name did not send shivers of fear.... Rather, it would send shivers of excitement. Colleen, although married to her doormat of a husband, was rather available to anyone who would be willing to pay. But when she became pregnant one day after one of her usual encounters, the rage that this sadistic woman felt could not be matched with money. After so many trials of rape and assault, women groups attacking him, and his family disowning him, the slut of a man fell into ruin while Colleen was the victor with much consolation and a secure seat within the female dominant town. Perhaps this was the beginning of her household's fall. After her complete victory, men were even more anxious to get with her. Unfortunately for her, the impending doom of a child loomed ahead. Unable to get an abortion (as the females of the town would isolate her from power if she would even consider it), Colleen was forced to give birth to a repulsive boy. She allowed her so-called husband to name it, as the second she saw it, she wished to destroy it's life just as it destroyed hers.

Richard Sawyer Rivers. His name didn't even stir any interest. He was nothing in this town, not even his old friends bothered to acknowledge him. Such a turn from what he used to be though. Once a well respected man whose knowledge had helped to rebuild the town library after a horrid fire, he was naught but a cowering husband now. After marrying his high school love, he was forced to remain in his house and not talk to anyone. He did not even attend work, as Colleen was the one in charge and thus brought in their money. He had only two functions in Colleen's steeled blue eyes; Cleaning and sex. Perhaps this was why he had killed himself, hanging limply from the rope in their cold basement. Of course, if he knew that his death would cause his son's life even more pain, he would have never left....

With a gasp, Thomas' innocent eyes opened to stare at his plain white ceiling. Yawning, he sat up and winced, rubbing the large bruise upon his back tenderly. Moma had gotten mad at him again, but he knew she had good reason too so it did not bother him much.

The five-year-old climbed out of bed to start his day. He made his bed exactly as his Daddy had shown him before padding to the bathroom. He had stopped using his baby pants quite a while ago, but he still felt proud as he used the big person thing. He also made sure to brush his teeth and comb his hair before returning to his room.

Passing his bed with the white sheets, he walked over the cold hardwood floor to the only other furniture in the room, a small dresser with only four drawers. Thomas loved his dresser. In the top one was his special big boy underwear. And then in the other drawer his pajamas (both pairs!). The two bottom drawers held all three of his shirts and his single pair of pants with two socks. He smiled as he got dressed, he was wearing his red shirt today!

Exiting his room, he was careful to close the door behind himself. Wadding into the kitchen, he passed his Moma's and Daddy's room where noises came out of it.

'They are playing.' He thought as another scream came from within the oak door. He smiled and continued to the kitchen, getting a chair and pulling it to a cabnet. He wanted his favorite cereal and was determined to get it himself. How proud Moma and Daddy would be, to see him sitting at the table with his own breakfast! Standing upon the counter, he reached upwards for the bright red box. Almost there, his fingertips barely touched it. His tongue slid out of his mouth as he stretched further.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He heard his Moma's voice. About to turn around to greet her, he felt a yank at his shirt and fell to the floor. Crying out as his bruise and head hit the hard wood, he felt tears come to his eyes.

"Moma!!" He wailed, clutching his head. He could hear her say something, but what it was he did not understand. He understood the pain though as the chair came crashing down on his body. It hit him again and again, each time he cried out for his Moma. Why wasn't she stopping the chair? It was hurting him, why is it hurting me Moma? Another sharp pain struck him and his vision blurred before seeing nothing. He went back to sleep.

Nyar, first chapter, short and simple. Whoot! V