Black Barty Novels & Stories

**Trigger Warning - This book contains theme's some people find disturbing. It is a dark story - it contains mention of rape and dub-con. If you don't like stories with dubious consent do not read - (It is called BLACKMAILED by the BULLY people... this is the title and THEME of the book) Much love and thanks for reading x** Alice stood on the corner on Monroe Avenue, staring at the house four doors down. Outwardly, there was nothing terrifying about the property—a three-bed red brick terrace similar to others in the row, and not dissimilar to her own.

Barrett’s first birthday! “Barrett?” Scanning a few more on the diary, “Barrett is now ten years old and very bright. I told her the blessing of the fairy goddess however she cried. My beautiful daughter with black hair and eyes, she is the one to carry the name Barrett. I don’t hate her; I am a proud mother that gave birth to the child who affirmed the blessing to our ancestors.”

She looked around and activated the mic, “All clear.” “Two agents are on their way,” she heard the boss say. Vicky cleared her throat and opened the door to be welcomed by the sound of the medical devices connected to the patient’s body. She pressed her lips when she saw Black Tiger lying on the bed. His naked torso was covered with scars and bruises. Bandages were around his chest, where he was shot. Vicky felt sad even though she and the mysterious agent have never shared a conversation. Black Tiger is someone calm, almost invisible, but his presence is very strong among them. He doesn’t need words to prove to the agents that he’s the best of all of them.

I level a cool gaze at the black haired Barbie. “Did you see the lady who purchased this?” I ask in my most patronising tone but there’s really no need for that because Barbie looks ready to do whatever I tell her. Good for both of us. I push the paper bag forward. She spares a look at her manicured nails and frowns at the pink colour. “The blackie?” My fingers stop moving, my head snaps to her head. “Excuse me?” “The woman, yeah? The black one,” she says. “She’s so black she could be related to darkness.”

Blacky's call reminded Nathaniel of the other's predicament, and though he would've enjoyed seeing it last, they were still trapped in walls of this dark power. "Tell me first what happened." "I'm being swallowed!" Nathaniel almost choked on his own salvia. Coughing, he tried to regain his composure. "Who'd be suicidal enough to swallow a thing like you?!" "Rude! Do you think I'd struggle if it was someone weak like you flesh people?" Blacky rebuked instantly, anger mixing with its fear. "I'd tear it apart, gobble it down instantly if it was so easy!"

“Brooks Designs is no stranger to underpaid labor. This is a capitalist society, after all. We have to do whatever we can to get ahead.” Black’s smile widened as he nodded to someone behind us, and the sound of footsteps filled the room. I turned, my stomach tightening. Six guards, all of them armed with those batons. Batons which were now crackling with electricity. Cattle prods. “Take them,” Black ordered calmly, stepping back from his desk. His attention turned to Betty, his eyes gleaming. “This one, though… I think I’ll keep her. A little insurance policy.” The guard holding Betty’s throat pressed the knife just a little closer, and I could see the faintest trickle of blood begin to bead

The high-pitched sound instantly drew everyone’s attention, turning their heads to look behind them. It was the sound of the elevator moving, making them curious about the impending arrival. Approximately twenty minutes later, Stanley Batton appeared in front of everyone with three bodyguards dressed in black. He wore a long black wool coat, a black belt, a white shirt, black pants, and a pair of black leather shoes. His skin appeared unusually fair in the stark contrast between black and white, creating a strong visual effect.

She shook her head again and ran out of the bathroom. *************** Her Becardi Rum. A muscular handsome guy snapped at the Bartender. Here it is bro. The bartender gave it to him and smiled. You new here? Haven't seen your face before. The bartender smiled again. No, I've been here before. Remember the grey hair guy who drunk danced, at the stage. The guy asked and the bartender laughed. Ohh.. so, you dyed your hair black. Sorry bro,I couldn't recognize you. You okay? The bartender grinned.

Dominique managed to question him despite the searing pain oozing from every pore of his skin. Dylan tsked, “So many questions. All right this time I wouldn’t disappoint you. But we will go with the second part first, hmm. Now tell me have you heard about ‘The Black’?” Dominique quirked a brow at his absurd question. Nevertheless answered. “Of course, I know. He is the psychopathic Mafia Lord of America, Leader of the Night Stalkers.” He grated out. “Ouch,” Dylan feigned a hurt expression and placed his palm over his heart.