Braces Fiction Stories Novels & Stories

THE UNDERGROUND The warehouse in Brooklyn's industrial district looked abandoned from the outside....broken windows, graffitied walls, chain-link fence surrounding the property. But on Friday nights, it became something else entirely. The Underground. New York's most exclusive illegal fight club. Cash bets only. No rules except: fight ends when someone taps out, passes out, or doesn't get up. Medical staff on site. Fighters sign waivers. What happens in The Underground stays in The Underground. And tonight, Cassandra "Cass" Reeves was fighting for the first time in the main event.

I told her. "Then what is it? You can tell me anything. I know we have just recently met but you can confide in me. We can talk outside if you don't feel comfortable here." "Let's go to the library," I said. "Start spilling," Amarachi said immediately we got to the library. "Before I start, please promise that you wouldn't judge me." "I promise that I would not judge you. You don't have to be scared about shit. I promise. Amarachi said while holding my hands.

he murmured. I looked down at my chest and saw the way my nipples were poking through the lace bra. His hand found my back, and he unhooked the bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. He wasted no time latching onto one, taking the full weight of it into his mouth while fondling the other with his free hand. I arched my back, grabbing his head as his tongue skillfully sucked my breast. He moaned between the sucking. He pulled away slightly and whispered in a hoarse voice, "I could go all day sucking those round breasts. They're fucking soft."

There was one solitary, big book on a low table between them. "The title of the tale is The Binding of Autumn," he began, his voice an entrancing whisper just in harmony with the shriek of the fire. “It's the tale of a harvest god who offers a mortal woman a choice: one night of absolute freedom for one year of unimaginable riches for her people." He didn't move as his eyes met hers. "The consent is the matter at hand. It must be freely bestowed, not coerced, and whispered three times into the skin of his throat." “Do you have any idea what sort of story you're going to be reading me tonight?”

"Back story" Isla Vance had always been the stronger sister. Her younger sister, Elara, was a beautiful, bright, but delicate soul, struggling since childhood with a rare, degenerative blood disease. Isla, working three jobs and putting her own future on hold, poured every cent and ounce of energy into Elara's care, fighting against hospital bills and worsening diagnoses.

Let him see. Marcus’s jaw tightened. His hands gripped the arms of his chair like he was fighting gravity. They kept talking. About her copywriting years — writing other people’s words until she forgot her own. About how he’d drifted into papers and lectures instead of stories. The words got heavier. More honest. Every truth pulled something tighter in her chest. Her calf was still pressed against his leg. Neither of them had moved it. The heat from his body seeped through his pants and made her ache.

The next day at work felt like absolute torture. I was the manager of Velvet Desires, an upscale adult store located in a quiet corner of the city. We sold high-end toys, luxurious lingerie, premium lubes, and everything a woman could possibly want to explore her deepest fantasies. Normally I loved my job. I helped shy customers find their first vibrator, recommended the perfect bullet for discreet public play, and smiled through awkward conversations with complete confidence. Today, however, I could barely concentrate on anything.

My prize. I approached, heart pounding. I had a silk scarf in my purse. A planned tool. “You’re mine tonight,” I whispered, tying his wrists loosely to the bedposts. A symbolic binding. He could break it with a twitch, but the game was the point. He watched, eyes gleaming.

He felt fast action was vital,so he tried to twist the cyclist's head back to it's proper position,BREAKING THE BIKER'S NECK! I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!