Curvy Quinn Facial Abuse Novels & Stories

Sean’s face twisted with rage, and he broke into a violent coughing fit. “Good! Go ahead and choke!” Quinn crossed her arms, grinning smugly. “Every time I see you, I’m going to curse you out. I’ll keep doing it until you’re six feet under!”

She had to take a detour before reaching the hospital. Catelyn peeled away Quinn's hand coldly. Her gaze was cold too. "What did you do to my mom?" Quinn was silent, then she cried innocently, "What would I have done to my aunt? How is she now?" "Our home was in clutter. If it was not because of a robbery, it was because of you! Now my mom has to go through surgery because she had a concussion. Quinn Weir, I warn you, no matter what my mom owes you and your father, if something happens to her, I will not let you get away with it!"

“We’re family, Quill! Why would you do this to your own sister?” “You’ve gone too far,” another said. “Too far.” Quill had no reply. He slumped to the ground, completely paralyzed, as if suffocating under the weight of their condemnation. Cynthia, overcome with pain and rage, suddenly launched herself at Quill. She grabbed his head—and bit his ear. “Ahhh—!” Quill screamed. It was a raw, animalistic howl of pain. “Help! Somebody help me!” Blood gushed down the side of his face. Cynthia bit down harder, eyes wild.

He rebuked with a malicious look on his face, “You bitch, this is what you get after crossing me for that Collins kid. “Don’t worry, you'll be my woman after Grandpa’s party. I'll enjoy you slowly. I’d like to see if you can remain so cold and arrogant then! Right, I'll also kill that Collins kid before you.” “You’re insane!” Quinn turned pale with fright. “Yes, I am insane. I’ve become insane ever since that kid crippled all four of my limbs!” Ferb laughed maniacally, his face filled with resentment. Suddenly, a suited young man walked over and whispered in his ear. When Ferb heard that, he glanced at the unconscious madwoman and asked the man to push him away. “Watch this woman. All of you

Quinlan watched her as she chewed, threw her head backward, and moaned as she savored the taste. Jesus. Why did she have to do that? She was moaning like someone was licking her honeypot clean. Quinlan found it absolutely disturbing because it was making him think about sex. He could feel his member threatening to harden and so he tried to focus his mind elsewhere. Dead bodies. Mutilated bodies. A curse from the moon goddess that made cruel men stay in their wolf's form, with their fur withering away until they died. The embarrassment he faced at age twelve when he pooped in his pants on his way home.

The panic was evident on her face as she trembled and kneeled before me. "Miss Quinn, what happened?"I slapped her across the face. "How dare you ask me what happened? You bitch! When did you learn to be all sweet in front of me and stab me in the back?" Coco's face flushed, and her body began to tremble.I kept poking her forehead hard with my sharp fingernail as I talked, leaving marks on her skin. But it was not enough.I twisted her ear and said, "Don't you want to live anymore?"

"No. You're the best, Ava. They're the evil ones, and I'm going to make them pay." Turning around, I fixed my sharp, menacing gaze on Georgina. "What right did you have to cut Ava's skirt and strip off her leggings? "This is abuse and a crime!" Georgina smoothed her hair and shot me a look of disdain. "I was correcting her bad behavior. School rules forbid inappropriate clothing, and since she wouldn't listen, I helped her trim it. "As for the leggings, they were so tight, so what if they hurt her? I was just doing her a favor.

"Tell him what? You have no proof, wannabe. Go ahead and try to tell Stanley. Do you think he will believe a charity case over his future wife?" "I don't care if he believes me and I certainly don't need his permission to expose a crime, Quinn," I fired back, stepping up close to her. "I will take this to the authorities myself." Before I could even finish my sentence, Quinn's eyes turned completely evil. She didn't scream at me. Instead, she reached out and snatched a sharp, silver letter opener from the marble side table next to her. Before my brain could even process her movement, Quinn violently slashed the sharp blade right across her own left forearm.

The faint, metallic scent of copper that begins to bloom in the enclosed space confirms what Marcus already suspects. She has broken skin. She is absolutely doing this on purpose, a quiet, bloody retribution against the man who had orchestrated her forced exile four years ago. "Luna Quinn," Marcus says, his voice vibrating with a very specific, dark quality of restrained fury. "Let go." She stirs. Tipping her face up toward his, she executes the slow, glassy surfacing of someone emerging from very deep water—her cheeks attractively flushed, her hair half-fallen across her face, and her eyes thoroughly, convincingly unfocused.