Cornrows Women Novels & Stories

Braided hair in every color, platinum, crimson, jet black, some shaved on one side, some with intricate patterns shaved into the scalp. Tattoos snaked across collarbones, down spines, wrapped around thighs. A few had scars that looked like they had been earned in fights, not accidents. Some wore leather skirts or corsets, others barely anything at all, tops cropped high enough to show under-boob, skirts slit to the hip, fishnets torn at the knees. And then the open filth. A woman knelt between a man’s legs at a low table, head bobbing steadily while he smoked and talked business.

“Do not test me in my own hall.” Elowen smiled. “Where else would I test you?” A soft rustle from the left cut through their exchange. “Corvin.” The voice slid across the stone like the edge of a thin blade. Elowen turned his head. The woman who approached wore grief like jewelry. The crown of the former queen glinted faintly atop hair silvered not by age but by choice, a Valdran tradition. Her gown was ash-grey, embroidered with ravens so black they seemed to swallow light.

There were about nine women, everyone sitting in a circular formation around the sheet they were sewing, and they seemed to be having a pleasant time doing their job. They sat with their back to a small one storied house, all wearing colorful ghagra-choli’s along with red coral bangles to signify their marital status. All of them had their dupatta’s covering their head and half of their face so you couldn’t tell if they wore vermillion on their forehead or not, which in India was a sure shot way of telling if a woman was married. Gingerly, I asked them if it was alright for me to take their pictures or not, because most women in this part of the country were conservative as Hell and it would

Unfortunately, for Corinne, looking at that woman was still like looking in a mirror and seeing herself so perfectly that was like a nightmare. One of the few differences between the two was Seraphina's curly hair, which was now cut to her waist, still shining like gold, without even a single strand of white hair to betray the passing of the years.

I knew where I was going and didnt have to think about it. A new couple was there today. A woman, on her knees, her arms chained up over her head. She wore a mask, and it kept her long red hair from falling into her face. She wore a black PVC top that appeared to have been poured onto her torso and arms, and a pair of bright yellow panties. Something about those garish panties told me that her dome had put those panties on her.

She immediately saw the woman sitting under the roof at the entrance. She was so eye-catching that her red dress and black overcoat completely showed her temperament, which was enthusiastic and cold. Yu Cangcang stood up. The two women were only a few steps away from each other. Lady Cecilia Longhorn looked at the woman with a slight smile. Her almond-shaped eyes were slightly raised, her face was white, her lips were dark red, and her hair was scattered all over her shoulders. Lady Cecilia Longhorn's gaze fell from her face to her wrist, where she was wearing a green bracelet.

I can't help but imagine her delighted reaction. I treat myself to some captivating lingerie, a little surprise for Sebastian tonight. The day's collection of treasures in hand, we wander to the last store on the beach and there’s a few women doing people’s hair. “Hello there gorgeous! How stunning you'd look with some bohemian vibes in your hair. How about we weave in some bohemian cornrows, maybe toss in a few colorful beads and threads, to capture that wild, free spirit of yours? What do you say to adding a touch of boho magic to your look?" A sweet woman from the shop asks me. How could I possibly tell her no I’ve never had cornrows before.

Every single person was wearing one of these. I saw a group of women nearby with red ribbons tied around their wrists or woven into their hair. I looked at the men and every one of them had a black band. Some wore them around their necks like ties, and others had them wrapped around their waists. Red for the women. Black for the men. And I was the only one in the entire room wearing pink.

Mason Today was supposed to be a celebration of victory and new life. The main square of Brown Stone had never looked so radiant. White silk ribbons hung from the branches of the trees, the ceremonial bonfires were built from fragrant pine wood, and every member of the pack had gathered in their finest clothes. Corin stood beside me on the platform. She was beautiful. She wore a deep red gown embroidered with gold, gently outlining the curve of her growing belly. Her skin was no longer pale, and in her eyes burned that pure, noble fire that belonged only to a true Luna.