Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Hockey’s Plaything(Erotic Short Stories): Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

I never thought I would walk into a place like that again. Not at my age. Not with my body worn down, my hair gone gray, and the ghosts of all the nights I’d wasted whispering behind me. But something about the quiet of my apartment that evening, the ticking clock, the stale smell of reheated soup, the way the television droned without meaning made me realize I was already dying while still breathing. So I put on my best suit, the one that still fit if I held my breath, polished my shoes until they almost shone, and walked into The Velvet Room like a man walking into confession. The air hit me first, warm, thick, perfumed with smoke and sweat. Music throbbed low, a heartbeat in the dark. Men and women moved like shadows, their laughter sharp, their whispers thick with promise. Mirrors caught flickers of skin and silk, candlelight bending around curves, catching on lips, eyes, hair. I was no fool. I knew I looked out of place. Old men don’t belong in temples of youth and lust. Som

Moana’s POV The drums had barely faded from our wedding when life shattered. I had gone to sleep with flowers still in my hair, my hand resting in Tomas’s, the sound of the sea rocking me toward dreams. But dreams turned to screams. It began with smoke, thick and acrid, choking my throat. Then shouts, harsh, guttural voices I didn’t know, cutting through the night like knives. I sat up, heart racing. “Tomas, what’s happening?” Before he could answer, the door of our hut burst open. Firelight spilled inside, and behind it men with painted faces, blades glinting. One lunged. Tomas shoved me back, grabbing the wooden stool as a weapon. “Run!” he shouted. But my legs froze. My eyes burned with the sight of our small hut engulfed in firelight, my people’s voices turning from song to agony. The man struck. Tomas blocked with the stool, the crack of wood against metal ringing out. For one moment I believed he could hold them off. He was strong. He was kind. He was mine. And

Moana’s POVThe rough hands gripping my arms were unrelenting, forcing me forward no matter how my legs stumbled beneath me. My feet scraped over the cold stone floor, every step jarring my knees, but the men didn’t slow. I barely had time to breathe, let alone to ask where they were taking me or why.The corridor seemed endless, lit only by a few flickering torches that threw long, twisted shadows on the walls. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out almost everything, the clinking of the guards’ armor, the hiss of the torches, even my own ragged breaths. Fear sat sharp and heavy in my chest, though I couldn’t name exactly what I was afraid of.“Please,” I tried to say, but the word came out broken, my throat raw from earlier cries.Neither man responded. Their silence was worse than anger. It told me nothing, left me in a spiral of not knowing, and the not knowing was terrifying.The hallway ended at a heavy wooden door bound with black iron. It was different from the others we’

The morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, painting the marble counter in streaks of gold. I wrapped my hands around my coffee cup, holding it like an anchor, and stared at the empty chair across from me. Daniel should have been here by now. Normally, he’d shuffle in, hair rumpled, still half-asleep, muttering about deadlines while I half-listened and poured him a second cup. But today, the house was silent. I tried to shake it off, but the unease lingered. Daniel had been strange ever since the accident a month ago. The crash hadn’t been serious just a mild concussion, some bruises but something about him had shifted. Sometimes he was forgetful, fumbling through conversations like a man lost in his own house. Other times, he was sharper than I’d ever seen him, his gaze cutting through me in a way that left my stomach tight and my heart pounding for reasons I didn’t want to name. It scared me, how unpredictable he’d become. I sipped my coffee and reminded mys

Lila hadn’t been home in three years. The town looked the same as she drove through it, though the streets felt smaller somehow, like they had shrunk in her absence. The same diner sat on the corner with its flickering neon sign, the same church bells rang in the distance. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her pulse quickening the closer she got to Claire’s house.She wasn’t sure what she expected, but when she pulled into the driveway and saw her sister waving from the porch, it hit her all at once, how much she’d missed her. Claire looked radiant, glowing with the kind of settled happiness Lila had never been able to hold on to. Beside her stood Ethan, tall and broad-shouldered, with a confidence that seemed almost magnetic.Lila’s breath caught.Ethan had always been handsome in a clean-cut, reliable sort of way. Back then, she’d barely noticed he was Claire’s, and Claire had been so clearly in love with him that Lila never let her mind wander in that direction. But n