Hard liquor, sex, cigarettes, success, and dread were what defined Roseline Calyson's life after she'd broken from her old life of no love and neglect at only the age of six. To put it simply, Rose's entire life had been one without guidance or love, and as soon as she was a teenager, she'd become the person she'd be for the rest of her existence before and beyond death.
She was born as a child that was never meant to be created, but due to her mother, Martha Calyson's, sexual appetite for anything but protected sex, she had been birthed in the summer of 1985. Martha had been a party animal that lived for sex, drugs, alcohol, and rock and roll, so Rose's father could've very well been some random rock star that had fucked her backstage or in an orgy at some point.
However, by the time it had been clear that she was pregnant, said supposed mystery rock star had already been long gone and sticking his rod in elsewhere. Martha had never wanted a child, but to avoid losing her version of "fun," she decided against abortion.
Rose had been born a healthy baby, which had been shocking due to the carelessness of her mother during the pregnancy. She had drank, smoked, and snorted hundreds of lines in the months of carrying her unborn daughter, even persistently having engaged in rough sex with any man she had managed to woo as a clear statement that she had no care for the being she was carrying.
It had been an absolute miracle that Rose came out unscathed, but in the years that followed it became very clear that Rose wasn't completely healthy in the head. She had never been given a name by her mother, and had ended up naming herself after a random model she had found in one of her mom's many magazines; Roseline Pierra.
By age three, Rose had already seen things that no kid should and had engaged in things kids shouldn't. She'd walked in on her mother engaging with a stranger over twenty times, and after the second time, having no guidance and a mom that wanted nothing to do with her, had watched with curiosity.
It had been remarkable that Rose had even survived her first years of life, having only been fed and cared for by Martha to shut her up after countless times of yelling at her daughter to shut up. Martha had very well thought about doing the unthinkable to her daughter on many occasions, but had never had the guts to actually do it.
Not only that, but the sheer idea of her even losing her freedom to a "bratty child" hadn't even an option, so she had just sparingly cared for her child while continuing to live her version of a carefree life.
Rose had learned how to talk through television and her mother's vulgar vocabulary, swearing and talking as if she were a rebel by age five, and at the age of six, had to learn how to care for herself.
In the winter of 1991, tragedy had struck and Martha's health started to plummet. Rose hadn't known, but her mother had been forsaken by her own addiction, catching AIDS from a random stranger she had slept with over the years.
Despite her mother never showing her any care or love, Rose had still comforted and attempted to love her mother in her final days, only to have been met with nothing but cold and careless comments in return. Being a child and so young, Rose had just seeked her mother's love and acceptance, but it still had never been earned up to Martha's passing two weeks later on Christmas eve.
Upon the discovery of her deceased mother, Rose had still wept, and with no one to call or anywhere to go, she had just stayed by her mother's side, up until she had had no choice but to seek something to satisfy her empty grumbling belly. Despite her only mother having never taught her anything about the world, Rose had found her way to help rather easily.
Not far from her home had there been a homeless shelter, so she had walked there in only her rags for clothes and feet bare in the ice cold snow. Upon arrival, the mere sight of a six year old in tattered clothing and no shoes had caught the attention of the staff, and upon telling them of her mother's passing, she had been taken in.
She had been given a coat and socks to warm up while the shelter had alerted police of the corpse residing in Rose's old home, wanting to be sure she hadn't been lying for free food and shelter. Once it had been proven that Rose hadn't lied, she had been relieved of any suspicion and taken in.
Rose had been given care by the shelter up until she had been transferred to a local orphanage, where she was raised and cared for until she had either been adopted or of proper age to leave. Life in the orphanage had proved as a new start for Rose, but it had been far from simple.
Her first challenge had been adapting to her new home and becoming social with the others her age, the clarity of her mother's lack of parenting and guidance having shown through her behavior and unnatural vocabulary of vulgarity. To combat this, Rose had been put through a program within the orphanage that helped to teach her proper vocabulary and manners.
This had taken a few months, and, in that time, Rose had finally begun life as a child her age, making friends and enrolling in school rather quickly. School had been the turning point for the better in Rose's short life, being a natural social butterfly and loving the thought of learning new things.
She had excelled in everything she learned and had flown through her school years with bright grades, and a mind as bright as the spectra of the many colors of a rainbow. Every one of her teachers loved her dearly, but the same couldn't have been said for the many couples who had had interest in adopting her, immediately turning her away after reading of her mother.
They all had seen her as a child of a slut, and because of her mother, had been labeled one as well. Rose had been hurt by it at first, but eventually grew numb to it, continuing her life and excelling everything handed to her in life.
Then came the day when she had officially become a woman, the sight of a barrage of blood at her feet catching her off guard during an evening shower. A deathly scream had alerted the staff to the bathroom, finding Rose under the stream of hot water as pale as a ghost and looking as if she'd just experienced the death of a loved one.
The staff had been confused until they had seen the crimson stream at her feet, swirling down the drain. The main issue had been that Rose had been an early bloomer and had never been taught anything about puberty up to that point. The normal age when most of the orphans had learned anything in relation to puberty had been around the age of 11 or 12; Rose had been ten at the time.
She had been quickly informed that she hadn't injured herself, nor had there been anything wrong with her at all by one of the female staff she had been very close to; a late-twenties brunette named Rebecca Brown.
Rebecca had been there for Rose since the start and had been the person Rose could say had felt like a true mother to her. She had been the one who had taught her how to be a child and talk like a child, as much as had made Rose into the aspiring scholar she had become over the years. The two had been inseparable and acted like a mother and daughter to the point of adoption not even being needed anymore to be happy.
However, what Rose had told Rebecca had been nothing short of sad, haunting, and nothing she could've ever been prepared to hear; Rose hadn't been alerted by the blood, but the truth that came with the fact that she was now growing into a woman.
Puberty meant that she had now entered the stages of growing into an adult, and that meant that she'd become on the verge of becoming sexually active and attracted to the opposite sex in those coming years.
Her mother had lived for sex and only that, and she had never wanted to become what her mother had been. It had not only killed her mother, but had also made her ability to have a life with an adoptive family impossible.
She had been afraid of becoming her mother.
That statement had made Rebecca lose her emotions and have a true mother/daughter style conversation in private, having taught Rose what puberty really meant and assuring her that she would never become the negligent and selfish person Martha had been.
While Rose had still been scared, she trusted Rebecca and accepted that she couldn't stop what had now begun. She had carried that conversation with her, but once she had turned sixteen, the true damage that Martha had done became all too evident. The sweet girl that had been a natural at anything she'd ever faced had begun to fade away, and Rose had become a whole new person.
It all had begun when she had entered high school and her hormones had begun to rush at the sight of any cute boy her eyes had met with. Rose had become a natural beauty that had attracted any guy who eyed her, having a body that outclassed any of the other "pretty girls" easily. This had caused a turf war that Rose had clear dominance over, as much as the boys that those other girls had wanted.
While Rose dominated the competition and had the desire for sexual activity, a small shred of her old self had kept her from losing her virginity, but that had only lasted so long up to the night of her first prom. She had the school quarterback, Sean McCoughlin all to herself for the night, and while she had hesitated at first, with a condom on, Rose's flower had been purged of its purity under the rafters of the football field.
That very act had ignited the one shred of Martha that existed within Rose's entire being, and, while the insertion into her had hurt a little, after a few thrusts, Rose's inner-Martha manifested, wanting nothing but more.
However, vaginal hadn't been enough for her, and after her first cherry had been popped, her second had been not long after. She'd requested Sean to do her orally and not to pull out upon orgasm, and, while he had hesitated at first, Sean eventually allowed Rose to blow his dick, up until he took over, thrusting her oral cavity and bursting his load in her mouth.
The sensation had overwhelmed Rose at first, but, to Sean's surprise, she had swallowed his load like it had been one of her favorite foods or beverages. Then, to his surprise again, Rose had started a second round of thrusting his rod in and out of her mouth.
Rose's wild desires had not been anything of what Sean had expected, but this had been the child of Martha Calyson, a sex crazed maniac, of whom he had decided to tempt into intercourse, and he had been paying the price. He had thought that after the third time, Rose would have surely been satisfied.
He had been mistaken.
After the third intake of his cum, Rose had moved to the cowgirl position with his dick not dressed with a condom. By the time he objected, she already had him submitted to her insides and was riding him like a wild beast. With his energy having been spent, he had not attempted to stop the sex-hungry beast atop him, and had become drunk to the natural sensation of sex.