2p Canada X 2p America Novels & Stories

“I’ll send you 200k for that. I don’t want to see those your Barbie pants.” Bella burst into laughter. “Ahan, Ahan, Chief!” she teased. “Which one is Barbie pants? You this old man—you won’t kill me at all!” Mr. Onijikan chuckled. “I’ve heard you,” he said. “I’ll be expecting you. Goodbye.” The line went dead. For a moment, Bella stared at her phone, then slowly lowered it, her eyes lighting up. “This man has money,” she whispered to herself, a grin spreading across her face. “Sending me 200k just to buy sexy pants… this is serious.”

Henry said with a darker tone. "She's just getting back on her feet, cut her some slack. People change, you know." Cindy pouts. "Do they?"

I will go right for his throat. “Great. Canada vs Belgium!”

"No surprise, you were cultivated by Canada. Otherwise, you couldn't possibly have so many firearms and ammunition. Canada is responsible for providing you with weapons and equipment, and you follow their orders." As soon as Amelia finished speaking, Gamal visibly became more uneasy. "Even if what you say is true, would America dare to go head-to-head with Canada? Obviously not. Just look at the number of missiles—you're not even on the same level. Canada has over 9,000, while America has only a little more than 300!" "A little more than 300?" Amelia smiled slowly. "But do you know exactly how many more?" "Well... I don't know the exact number, but it's definitely not as many as Canada." Gam

Everyone in the Blood Moon pack is whispering that Alpha Cassian Ward only allows his pack to spend ten dollars a day. Yes, ten dollars. It's not a pack tradition, nor a decree from the elders. The rule comes from his new financial planner, Mira Langford. Even as Luna, the moment they discover I've spent a single dollar more—on medicine, no less—they drag me out and whip me 20 times in public. By the second lash, my back splits open, blood soaking through my skirt.

Another day of the same routine since I'm 12 years old. But wait, I didn't even introduce myself, I'm sorry. Well, my name is Pandora Vaughn, I'm 17 years old, I'm 5 feet 3 inches tall, and I'm in my senior year of high school. My parents are Charlie Vaughn and Melissa Vaughn, my younger sisters are called Shopie Vaughn and Charlotte Vaughn. Now that I've introduced myself, I need to run and take these groceries to my mom. - At Vaughn’s house -

They say it reads your arousal metrics down to the millisecond, syncs haptic feedback straight to your nervous system. My fingers tremble a little as I lift it out. I've been jerking off to p**n for months with the same tired scenes, same fake moans, and it's not enough anymore. I want to feel owned. I want something that knows exactly how wet I get when a voice calls me a desperate little slut. So I subscribed to the premium tier, the one they don't advertise on the main site. Full customization. No filters. No safe words unless I set them. And tonight I'm testing the default dominant profile they call "Apex."

I wink. Inhaling a breath, I shut the door and head inside Quinn's house. Ice cream first. Pity party second. Anti-male chick-flicks third. ***