Claw Pinky Toe Novels & Stories

Claire obeyed, feet planting wider, fabric bunched at her waist. Her smooth, pink pussy was on full display—swollen lips glistening, clit peeking out, a thin string of arousal already dripping toward her thigh. Marcus’s cock strained visibly against the orange fabric. “So fucking perfect. Pink and untouched. I bet it’s never even had a real man’s tongue on it.” His voice dropped to a growl. “Touch it. Spread those lips for me. Show me how wet you are inside.”

Afraid to move and speak, I took more steps backwards cowardly, but my leg hit the foot of a table, hurting my pinky toe, and unconsciously, I let out loud yelps. To the Moon goddess, it hurt a lot. It was like my pinky toe was disconnected from my feet for a second and painful screams tore from my throat. Immediately, I squatted to examine my pinky toe which was now red, numb and swollen, giving it soft robs. Rising to my feet and trying to wear my sandals, another scream left my throat as I tried to fit my foot into it, but my toe kept hitting the edge of the sandals, filling me with sharp pain.

And their hands were also not intact. They painfully dropped a few pieces of broken flesh, sometimes revealing a white bone. They had very long fingernails, or should she call them claws, were very long, somewhat curved. The claws gleamed with a slimy, pale green layer, like the liquid beneath the black swamp, constantly giving off a fishy smell.

Klara smiled sinisterly, running her long beige manicured nails on the golden rails. "Almost done. Almost."

Her scapulas contracted sharply beneath her silk blouse, producing a faint sound of bones rubbing against each other. His fingertips paused on the clitoral hood for a second. He could feel the clitoris pulsing beneath the hood, each pulsation hitting his fingertips. The frequency was faster now than before. Gently pushing the hood aside with his fingertips, the clitoris became visible—that tiny, raised nub was a deep pink in the warm light. Its surface was smooth and moist. The moment his fingertips touched it, it stiffened slightly.

"I'm giving you a chance, don't be ungrateful!" Claire's eyes turn cold. "Let go," she says. "No, you listen to me—" Tim yanks her arm. Claire doesn't hesitate. She lifts her stiletto heel and stomps down with all her weight on his leather shoe. "ARGH!" Tim howls, his grip loosening as he bends forward in pain. Claire pushes him away, disgusted. "Security!" Claire shouts. Tim falls back, clutching his foot, face red with pain and humiliation.

I could use them. I closed my eyes again and focused. The shift came slowly—only one finger. I extended my claw on my right index finger. It grew long, sharp, and black. I pressed it against the soft spot. I started scratching. It hurt. The claw bent slightly against the stone, sending sharp pain up my finger. But the cement gave way—slowly, bit by bit. I kept going. Scratching. Piercing. Digging. Twenty minutes passed. My finger bled. My hand shook. Sweat ran down my face. But I did not stop. I could not stop.

His knife gleamed as he drove it toward her chest. Raven’s wolf exploded. Her claws ripped free, her eyes burning gold. She caught his wrist mid-swing, bones cracking under her grip, and with a snarl that shook the trees, she threw him back into the dirt. Gasps ripped through the Fangs, terror now plain in their faces. Cole screamed, clutching his broken wrist. “See?!” he howled. “She’s one of them!” But Raven wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was staring at Reed, who had seen her claws before, but never like this. Never unleashed.

“Back to you, my friend.” I could feel the tremors from his body as I took a shoe off his foot. The sound of him swallowing his saliva could not go unnoticed as I drew circles around his big toe. “What is your name?” I asked as I stabbed my claw into his big toe. “It’s Nix... Nixon,” he said after a high-pitched scream that filled the room. “Wasn’t that hard to say your name now, was it? Lucky you said as my next action was to cut it off,” I said as I dragged out my claw, wiping it across his trousers.

I was almost arriving at the podium when I felt someone grab my wrist, stopping me from moving any further. “What are you doing?” Linda asked in a hushed tone, looking down at my claws. I jerked my hands away from her slightly strong grip, shaking them to make the claws go away.