Dj Screw Skull Novels & Stories

Wives are to be claimed, whores are for fucking. But me? I’m to be PLEASURED. ~~~ Chelsea Stone signed the contract expecting a cold and dead marriage. Instead she found herself collared by Dominic Hartwell – a man whose rules were written in silk restraints, leather belts, and the low growl of full command. He bound her wrists above her head and taught her that silence was no longer armor; it was foreplay. He spread her wide open on silk sheets and edged her for hours with fingers, tongue, and the thick head of his veiny cock until she was dripping, shaking, and sobbing “Please, big daddy… I’ll be good.” Only then did he drive into her deep and relentless, one hand tight around her throat, the other spanking her ass while he fucked her into shattering, screaming release. Chelsea was never meant to stay broken though, because in the darkness between punishments and praise, she began to crave more than surrender. She wanted to test him, to push and whisper filthy things against his ear while she rode his thigh, soaked and trembling: “I want to be your little cunt who shows big daddy who’s really boss.” Dominic’s eyes darkened with dangerous promise every time she dared. The more he punished her with a be*t across her, cock down her throat until tears ran down her cheeks, hands pinning her down while he claimed every inch of her. The more she burned to flip their power while he owned her body. Yet as old enemies sharpened their knives and forbidden pasts, pain and pleasure blurred until Chelsea no longer knew where submission ended and rebellion began. Would she kneel forever… OR would the quiet wife finally make her ruthless husband beg?

At midnight, the ER receives a pregnant patient with an extremely pale face, and she's convulsing violently at the same time. I lift her shirt on the spot so that I can diagnose her symptoms better. But my wife, Selena Carson, who also works as the head nurse, suddenly berates me angrily. "Do you have any idea that what you're doing is sexual harassment? Can't you spare the patient her pride? "Don't use your treatment as an excuse! I refuse to believe that there aren't any female doctors in the ER at all!" The patient's family members streamed the whole thing live. Soon, everyone was blasting me on the Internet. The hospital forces me to apologize to the pregnant patient. But I decide to tender my resignation the very next day. After all, the patient's disease has a frighteningly high chance of getting misdiagnosed, not to mention it's incredibly difficult to cure. In fact, no one but I can cure her once and for all.

I was unable to perceive the man before me. He was greater than expected, overshadowing me, every one of his muscles flexed and his jaws gripped, disdain and outrage all around his face. He resembled an incensed monster, his noses erupting and his eyes red. I was feeling pulled towards him, unknowingly my hands came to him and laid on his chest I could feel his body loosen up quickly under my touch, his breathing dialed back and his face mellowed. He resembled the sweet Karish I knew. "If it's not too much trouble, quiet down, "I said in a delicate voice. His eyes shot back to me and he folded his arms over my abdomen pulling me to him. I could feel him sniffing my hair then he established his head on the hoodlum of my neck. I lifted my arms and put them around his neck. We remained here briefly, embracing one another. It felt close, warm, safe, and agreeable like I was home like I was the place where I should be

Growing up, you may have heard stories about magical creatures and other unknown beings that the grownups would tell kids to make them behave and listen better. These stories didn't start out as 'Once Upon a Time' instead would be told as a warning to not go to a place or be out past a certain time or else something would come and take them away. Most of the stories were passed on by the elders over the many generations. There is this one specific story you are about to hear, or I should say read is about a young woman by the name of Ashley who grew up hearing all kinds of these stories. She would come to find out that a certain story that she has heard many times wasn't just some made up fairy tale. Once she turns18, her will change forever.

I'm reading a book about a boy who bullies a girl, but they end up in love? Screw that; if it were me, I'd ruin the plot.

I was a writer. I rented a place in the countryside to seek inspiration. The villagers said it was a haunted house. Twenty years ago, a mad woman murdered her daughter by piercing a needle into her skull! I did not believe it, but I got a call from a little girl that night. She said it was 2002, and her mother was trying to kill her!

MollyJay Bijou is a woman of almost 30 who works 3 jobs and has fewer friends, and as an orphan she has no family. Her life had been a perfect series of screw ups and disappointments, until an obnoxious stranger and his rowdy friends change all that. Werewolves from the moon? You have got to be joking...right? ***BOOK 1 COMPLETE**** Book 2: War of the Wolves will continue the story

The biggest mistake you can ever make is letting a woman take over your heart. Women are instrument of evil, they love to be loved by the kindest hearts but they love to live with the guy that has the biggest bag because apparently, their hearts beat for two things: money and solely peace. But in all cases, money always comes out on top, that's why I now preach, "screw love, chase money." Otherwise, you'll be standing alone at the damn altar, waiting for the bride who ditched you for a wealthier man.

I make my final phone call to my boyfriend when a murderer is hunting me down. He thinks I'm messing with him and hangs up on me. That destroys the final sliver of hope I have for survival. He's celebrating his childhood friend's birthday when I'm being murdered. Later, as a restorative embalmer, he receives a body to restore. He loses his mind when he restores my shattered skull and realizes the body is mine.

When I first started at Serenity Hills, the head nurse told me coma patients paid well—but the job was messy and brutal. They could only get IV nutrition. Screw that up, and you're basically killing them. Today was day thirty of looking after the girl. Young. Gorgeous. Like always, I hit the nurse's station to grab her IV bags— But then I saw it. Thirty glucose bottles gone. IV nutrition? Still sealed. Chills shot down my spine.