Drop The Soap Novels & Stories

I caught it with my hands, shaking. “Thank you, your highness.” I said, the words like acid to my mouth yet I had to be the better person, I had to show respect and just keep being nice, maybe she would grow warmer and the ice would melt away. I walked back to the river, the soap in hand and my eyes took it in. It looked like a normal soap yet it literally had no colour. The scent it had was one I had never smelt ever and it was heaven. Holding it felt like I was holding something great with its weight light. The cloth on the other hand seemed to be made from the finest cotton, so soft and smooth it had my hand tingle. I submerged in the water, the soap going to my wet hair. I soaped it then

Her mother moans softly, eyes fluttering now with slight awareness. “It’s okay… I’ve got it.” She begins removing the soiled blanket, hands shaking. Her manicured nails dig into the soiled cloth, and her breath turns shallow. As she unfastens the underpad— A horrible squelch. Then a stench. Rebecca has soiled herself again. Sophia freezes. Her eyes squeeze shut. Her entire body stiffens. For one horrifying second— She wants to scream. To run. To throw something. To cry.

I want to scrub this wine from my skin and crawl out of it entirely. Inside my room , I peel off the dress and dump it in the bathroom sink. The wine swirls down the drain like blood in a cheap horror film. I sit on the edge of the tub in my slip, phone pressed to my ear. Sophia doesn’t pick up — of course she doesn’t, it’s too late, too early, too everything.

Many things could cause dish soap and cornstarch slimes to fall apart. “Sorry,” Zen apologised to Liu Feng, who had only taken a few bites from his breakfast. “I have to return to the dungeon!” Without looking back, Zen threw his apron onto the kitchen counter and ran back to the room. He knew what he had to do to kill that pink slime now.

James’ POV I leaned back in my chair, tapping my pen against the desk. Everything was falling into place perfectly. Sophia was as resilient as she was intelligent, but that didn’t mean she was untouchable. I knew exactly how to dismantle her reputation piece by piece, all while keeping my hands clean. I smirked, pulling out the report I had swiped from Sophia’s desk earlier in the day. It was an important document she’d worked on for weeks, a detailed market analysis that would be presented to Mr Mahone and a group of stakeholders tomorrow.

She gasped, her body trembling, and I chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through the bathroom. I reached for her long, dark hair, gathering it into a low bun, the elastic band catching the strands and holding them in place. Then, with a sigh, I continued sponging her body, cleaning her so gently, so carefully. There wasn’t even soap in the water, I realized. I didn’t think there was soap in any of the stuff they had prepared. The water was supposed to be relaxing, cleansing, not a harsh scrubbing.

I said, “I’m actually his boss.” “Nathan, can you pass me some more shingles?” Sophia asked one of the guys before she told me, “Well, I don’t know what the problem is. I’ve already received the money I inherited, I’m shutting down the opioid pharmaceutical company before I sell off the building, and I’m still waiting to hear from my grandfather’s assistant about switching to residential buildings, ma’am.” I felt nauseous after hearing her words and asked, “Why are you shutting down the pharmaceutical company, Miss O’Shea?”

I scented the lake and followed my nose to the large body of water. Grinning, I began taking the soiled clothes from my frame, being sure to take out the small piece of lye soap I dove into the cool water and basked in the refreshing feel against my skin. I began lathering my soap and scrubbing my skin. I scrubbed away the scabs on my number and saw that the brand is healed and permanent on my flesh. I run my fingers over it and frown. I then climbed out of the water to get the shampoo. I grabbed the bottle and scrubbed my hair. I washed it three times. I looked up at the bright moon and tears started to fall as I thought about my dead mother and my horrible life now. I clasped my hands, my

--- *11:48am | Blackwood Group, 40th Floor* Sophia sat across from her father. Marcus Lane. Real estate. Blackwood’s silent partner. “She fired Vance,” Sophia said. “Without a vote.” Marcus didn’t look up from his tablet. “Then we fire her back.” “How?” “Bean & Brew,” Marcus said. “She worked there. We own the debt. Call it in. Bankrupt them by noon. She’ll look like a joke CEO who can’t even save the place she washed dishes at.” Sophia smiled. “Let's do it then.”

He stood at the gap, his wide shoulders blocking the view of the pedestrians. I sighed and stripped. I pulled the white shirt off, then the trousers. I stood naked in the biting air. I grabbed the cloth and dunked it into the barrel. The water was freezing. It felt like a thousand needles piercing my skin the second the cloth touched my chest. I scrubbed hard. My skin turned a raw, angry red. I knew no amount of scrubbing would easily take the fragrance off. It was oil-based. It was designed to last. Only real soap would do it, and I didn't have any.