Curvy Quinn Facial Abuse Novels & Stories

I was no saint. Queenie had already choked on so much water that she'd lost consciousness, and no one dared perform CPR on her. Several bodyguards took turns slapping her across the face until she was forcibly awakened. The moment she came to, her swollen, pig-like face twisted with fury as she rushed straight toward me. "Sabrina! You dare hit me!" I calmly picked up the electric drill lying nearby and looked at her. Something about my expression made her pause. She stopped abruptly and clutched her hand protectively.

“Fine. Let’s just ignore everything I’ve shown you. “Are you saying your footage should be considered evidence, then? “Or are you saying that you’re different, and that you can just accuse me of doing anything you say? “Who do you think you are? “Now, it’s time for me to get an explanation. “You disrespect me and Quill on the day of his funeral… “Kneel and break your arms. Kneel here for an entire day. I’ll spare you if you do. “If not, I’ll let you people know what being civilized means.”

nodding towards the microphone on the floor. "Cool. I like it," Quinn nodded. She always had balls. After Raze cut her face she had a knock to her confidence, but it was always there ready to be summoned. Even as I stitched her up she shimmered with pure rage. I already know my angels challenge will be to stop Quinn unleashing all her pain into unwarranted bloodshed. "So, you're happy to follow the three of us then?" She folds her arms, cooking a hip as she stares up at me with her dove-grey eyes. Her scar-rippled cheeks only added to the sternness of her face.

“Aye, Burn her to hell!” “Kill! Kill Kill!” Quinlynn saw a girl tied on a stake. She could not see her face as her long unkempt bangs hid all of her facial features. Her fragile wrist was buried with the rope. The girl was like a broken doll. She finally saw the girl’s face. Quinlynn’s eyes trembled as she saw the girl’s creepy smile. The girl was smiling at her- “You-“ ----------------------------------------------- “Argh…ugh…what the hell?”

Harder as I stagger backwards, a gasp slipping through my parted lips. The crowd that's formed around us seem to be enjoying the little show we've got going on because none of them makes a move to stop Quinn as she grabs hold of my hair, and crane my neck backwards. "I'm going to teach you a fucking lesson, and you'll learn to never lay your filthy hands on me ever again. " She spats, her grip getting tighter, and burning my scalp. I let out a wince as I spread my hand forward, and grab hold of her hair with both my hands, pulling her head to the back.

I grabbed her arm suddenly, staring deeply into her eyes. “Tell me this child is mine!” Her lips parted instantly, but no words came out. My grip loosened slowly. I stepped back gently as if I had just touched fire. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then suddenly, Seraphina snapped too. “You want the truth?” she shouted through tears. “Fine!” Her chest rose unevenly. “You think Quinn was some innocent victim?” No. I couldn’t bear standing her try to pull down Quinn again with her evil words. Rage exploded before I could stop it. My hand struck her face hard.

they both reply. Alex leans forward, eyes narrowing like he’s about to spell doom. “Celine Quinn enjoys tormenting people for a living. One time, she tossed an assistant into a pool because she drew her brow a shade darker than she wanted.” He leans closer, voice dropping. “You think the devil works hard at tormenting people? Wait till you meet Celine Quinn.” A lump rises in my throat. Oh boy.

Very scary, like a goose that will peck if approached. I stretched out my arm as I helped Dylan back into his wheelchair. Only then did I take him to his room and close the door. And now I was facing Quinn again. Quinn, she was still in the same place, with her hands clenched into fists and her eyes reddened. Even I'm sure that if I uttered offensive words about Dylan, her tears would slide freely. "You...," she said in a hoarse voice. She didn't continue her words but covered her face with both hands.

When her powers manifested, would she go feral? Quinn didn’t register my presence or even my words. She stood motionless, staring off into the distance at something none of us could see. I flashed to the next morning. Quinn sat on the bed crying, her head cradled in her hands, tiny shoulders shaking, overcome by sheer grief at the terrible thing she had done. And I did not make it any easier on her. I did not attempt to console or understand her. I was still angry. Raging at her until she curled up into a little ball and threw her arms over her head in an attempt to protect herself against my relentless, verbal assault.

That shit stung worse than any knife wound. And it wasn’t just about her. It was about him, choosing that moment to prove how straight he was. Like we weren’t… whatever the fuck we were. Like he needed to remind himself—and me—that his mouth had other places to go. Plus, he's been without his wheelchair for the past twenty-four hours. Giving me reasons to want to believe that Anaba's cunt did a lot more healing inside-out. So yeah. Cunt face fit. Quincy, though, didn’t let it land. He just grinned, eyes glinting with amusement. “Are you jealous?”