Buying My Mom
Copyright© 2026 by psych
Chapter 1
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Mom gets drunk and hits a patron ,blinding him and is sold into indenture servitude. Son buys her with his crypto money
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa Slavery Incest Mother Son MaleDom Humiliation
The blue light of the monitor painted Charlie’s face a ghostly pale as his cracking script ran its ten-thousandth loop. On the screen, a digital balance blinked back at him—eight digits of raw, unspent crypto wealth, close enough to touch, yet completely locked away behind layers of heavy encryption.
He punched in his latest variation of the seed phrase, his fingers trembling over the mechanical keyboard. He hit Enter.
A red box flashed on the screen: INVALID PASSPHRASE. 4 ATTEMPTS REMAINING BEFORE PERMANENT WALLET WIPE.
“Fuck my life,” he muttered, slamming his palms onto the desk.
Right on cue, his phone violently buzzed against the wood, the screen lighting up with an unknown local number. Charlie swiped it open and pressed it to his ear. Instantly, a wall of noise hit him: the low roar of a crowded bar, shattered glass, and the distant, rhythmic wail of approaching police sirens.
Through the chaos, a sharp, slurred voice cut through the background static.
“Even us poor folk deserve the good scotch, you greedy fuck!”
It was his mother. She worked as waitress at local hotel and the work can be physically taxing, she used to drink a pint here a pint there but lately everything went to shit bottles hidden at home to drink whenever, she says it’s work, maybe that, or maybe dad leaving them 10 years prior for a younger woman might be. Who knows with alcoholics
“Are you Charlie?” a breathless voice shouted into the receiver. It was the bartender, his voice tight with panic. “Look, man, your mom just tried to smuggle a three-hundred-dollar bottle of single-malt out the back door. When a patron tried to stop her, she smashed a glass across his face. The cops are throwing her into the back of a cruiser as we speak. You need to get down here right now.”
“I’m on my way,” Charlie blurted out, already grabbing his jacket. “Don’t let them take her before I get there.”
“Don’t bother coming to the bar,” the bartender snapped over the noise. “Go straight to the precinct. This wasn’t some ordinary tavern scuffle, kid. The glass shattered right into the guy’s face. Last I saw, paramedics were flushing his eye, and they’re saying he might lose his sight. Your mom is looking at a heavy felony aggravated assault charge, not a drunk-and-disorderly.”
The line went dead. Charlie stood frozen, the phone still glued to his ear. Felony assault. Eye damage. Bail for something like that wouldn’t be a few hundred dollars—it would be tens of thousands, money he absolutely did not have in cash.