Chloroform Spray Novels & Stories

At a concert, I went wild, shouting at the top idol on stage, “Tony Townsend, spray on my face!” That night, my brother had me pinned against the ancestral altar, a ruler pressing down on the back of my neck. “Lift your head. Tell me, what did you want that idol to do to you?” Later, he shoved me down onto the mattress, his fingertips grinding against my swollen lips. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Alexa. Queen bee. Popular. And above all, secretly mischievous. Devon. Silent rebel. Bike guy. Bad boy When these two cross paths, will sparks ignite, or will thunders roar? When Alexa pranks her boyfriend as revenge for forgetting their date night, everything seems to be fun, except that she pink spray painted the wrong bike. Turns out, it's the school's new student. A handsome devil too, that's seriously pissed with her. When their game of who intimidates who turns into more, Alexa isn't sure if she can trust him with her heart.

"Camille had only been heading to her grandma’s house because Gran couldn’t figure out her cable again, but she stumbles across the city’s notorious graffiti artist along the way. And now that she knows who the face behind the spray paint can is, she can’t seem to listen to her friends’ sage advice and follow the safe path, leaving well enough alone. She’s determined to coax Black Crimson into agreeing to an exclusive interview so she can become the famous newspaper journalist she’s always wanted to be. But in this contemporary twist to the Little Red Riding Hood fable, our red-headed heroine learns just how dangerous talking to strangers can be...to her heart. "

On the first day of work, the company president said that I looked like his long-lost daughter and gave me a salary of 100 thousand dollars, on the condition that I ate together with his wife every weekend. Once my boyfriend heard this, he yelled at me in front of my colleagues, “How could you believe such a cheap lie?! It’s just an excuse for him to pay you for dirty favors! If your mother learned that you got yourself a sugar daddy after graduation, she’d jump off a building!” So, I rejected the president’s offer. Someone told the department manager that my boyfriend and I insulted the president, and he fired us. My boyfriend was really shocked by this. He stayed at my place and loafed around instead of working. When he no longer had any money left, he asked my mother for money. After that, he asked me to sell my organs. After I said no, he knocked me out with chloroform and sent me to an unlicensed clinic. The doctor there did not use the standard procedures, so I died from the pain. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day I met the president. This time, I shouted, “Sir, you look just like my father, even though we are not related at all!”

The whole wolf pack knew I was Alpha Nick’s fated mate—chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. But the second I stepped into Brown Pack territory with my suitcase in hand— His mother, Mrs. Johnson, ordered the maids to spray me with wolfsbane. His cousin, Enna, "accidentally" put me in *his* bedroom. And his childhood sweetheart, Rina, slapped a ten-million-dollar check in my face, demanding I publicly renounce this "joke of a mating bond." Even Alpha Nick himself—the ruthless legend of the pack—spent the first night wrapped around me like a damn octopus, only to kick me out coldly the next morning: *"Get out. Don’t come back to my room again."* When I was framed for theft, forced to work overtime till midnight, or locked inside a pitch-black office mid-panic attack… My *"fiancé"* was too busy grinding on Rina at some high-society ball. Then the truth about me dropped— Brown Pack’s elders dropped to their knees, trembling. Rina ripped her knockoff Luara gown in rage. And Alpha Nick, eyes bloodshot, pinned me against the wall: *"Wendy… you played me."* I smirked, peeling his fingers off me. *"Sorry, Alpha. The three-month contract’s up."* *"Now… call me by my real title—heir of White Moon Pack."*

Because my father's childhood sweetheart's daughter was accidentally burned, my father was angry and locked me in the fire house where werewolf criminals were punished. The Beta of the pack, my father, looked at me with disgust written all over his face: "I don't have such a cruel daughter. You'll stay here and reflect on what you've done." I begged loudly for mercy, admitted my mistake, pleading for him to let me out. All I got in return was his merciless command. "Unless she's dead, no one is to release her." The fire house stood isolated at the edge of the territory. No matter how much I screamed for help, no one could hear me. He assigned the housekeeper to set the room to spray fire every 2 hours. The burns were excruciating, my werewolf healing barely keeping me alive between sessions. Ten days later, he finally remembered he had a daughter and decided to let me out. But what he didn't know was that I had already died in that fire house, never to wake again.

Si Adelaine Funtales, kilala sa screen name bilang Lalaine ay nagtungo sa Berlin kasama ang buong production team. Sa bansang iyon nakilala niya si Mr. Schmidt. Ang direktor ng Germany show business at entertainment. Wala itong ibang pagnanais kundi ay ang makilala si Lalaine nang lubos. Lingid sa kanyang kaalaman ang masamang binabalak nito. Nilagyan ni Schmidt ang puting tela ng chloroform dahilan kung bakit nakatulog si Lalaine sa loob ng sasakyan nito. Nang siya'y magising, nasa ibabaw na siya ng kama. Tanging kumot ang nakatakip sa katawan, naghihingalo sa takot, nanginginig sa lamig. Akala ni Lalaine ay doon nagtatapos ang kasamaan ni Schmidt. Dinala siya nito sa auction hall. Ang lugar kung saan ay mga babaeng katulad niya ang ibinibenta para sa mga banyaga ng legal. Walang papeles, madaliang proseso. Walang nakakaalam sa lugar na iyon kundi ay ang mga taong hayok sa laman. Binili siya ni Massimo Valerio sa napakalaking halaga. Akala niya'y tutulungan siya nitong makalaya ngunit dinaig pa nito si Mr. Schmidt sa kasamaang binabalak laban sa kanya. Lalo at nalaman ni Lalaine ay ito pala ang Chief Executive Officer, Chairman, or Founder ng buong major media conglomerates, studios, o talent agencies. Ano ang laban niya sa isang mayaman, at makapangyarihang lalaki? Paano siya makakalaya?

Six years ago, a corporate acquisition deal I handled went up in flames, and 50 billion dollars vanished into thin air. Bankrupt investors spray red paint all over my front door for a year straight. Dad died from a stroke, and Mom lost her mind and disappeared. I ended up doing six years in prison for embezzlement. After I got out, I changed my name and started delivering food in downtown, running myself ragged for a few bucks per delivery. But then my ex-wife, Shirley Pearce, showed up, and the entire delivery station ground to a halt. She had become a financial powerhouse, a regular on the covers of business magazines. Reporters blocked my delivery scooter, shoving microphones in my face. "Mr. Marcus Quinn, Ms. Pearce has been single for six years, paid off all your debts, and she's been waiting for you to come home!" I stared at that perfectly made-up woman with her adoring eyes and felt nothing but disgust. That so-called "devoted" ex-wife of mine? Six years ago, she had forged company seals to help her boy toy short the stock market. Then, when everything fell apart, she threw me under the bus to save herself.

I'm a nationally certified animal trainer running the Lion King, Caesar's final assessment. I've barely stepped into the enclosure corridor when the steel guillotine door slams down behind me. My wife's laughter crackles over the loudspeaker. "Everyone, we're doing the ultimate challenge today! We're locking the so-called number-one animal trainer in the Lion King's enclosure and taking bets on whether he wets himself in ten minutes!" Caesar crouches low and rumbles a warning. I reach for my tranquilizer gun but stop cold. The liquid isn't the right color. In a phony sing-song voice, the veterinarian, Hugh Archer, says, "Lucian, I forgot to mention, I swapped your tranquilizer darts for pepper spray so you won't hurt Caesar by mistake. "You two are so close. Just win him over with love!" I look at Caesar, his eyes bloodshot from the stimulant, and it clicks. Hugh still resents that I stopped him from touching a tiger with his bare hands a few days ago. I tune out the trash blaring over the loudspeaker, pull a remote from my pocket, and hit the button. It's the master switch for the electric fence gates around every predator enclosure in the zoo. If I don't make it out, no one does.

“Stay low, Omega. Unless you want to be flattened.” On the ice, I am not a girl. I am a liability. At least, that’s what Jaxon Thorne tells me every time his skates spray ice over my gear. As the only female on the university’s elite hockey team, I expected the chirping. I didn’t expect the suffocating, predatory shadow of our coach. Jaxon is a True Alpha in every sense—brutal, commanding, and obsessed with purity on his team. He hates that I’m here. He hates that my scent messes with his focus. And he spends every practice making my life a living hell. But his hatred feels… heavy. It’s in the way he traps me against the boards during drills, his massive frame pinning me until I can feel the thrum of his heart through our pads. He says he’s "fixing my stance," but his hands linger too long on my hips, and his growl sounds less like a coach and more like a beast claiming its prey. Then comes the ultimate penalty: a housing error makes us roommates. Now, there’s no rink to separate us. Just thin walls and the agonizing pull of our biology. He glares at me across the kitchen table with eyes that want to ruin me, yet he’s the one sliding the bolt shut on the front door. He says Omegas don’t belong in his sport. But the way he looks at me when I’m cornered says he thinks I belong exactly where he can keep me: on my knees, under his command, and utterly his. ************************** Trigger Warnings: 18+ Content/Hardcore: Graphic sexual content, CNC (Consensual Non-Consent) elements, dub-con (due to biological "Heat/Scent" influences), aggressive Alpha behavior, and language.