Novelas y relatos de Face-Slapping

Tears streamed down my face as I felt the edges of my sanity fraying, slipping away. With a trembling voice, I begged him to stop, but it only seemed to spur him on. His hands fumbled at the knot of my robe, and I tried desperately to hold it closed, clutching it with shaking fingers. But then came the slap—a brutal, thunderous hit across my face. My head snapped to the side, my vision blurred with shock and pain. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and my grip on the robe faltered.

" Before his words even finished, I hurled the wine glass straight at his forehead, shattering it against him. I then turned and slapped Nevaeh across the face without hesitation. No one had anticipated me lashing out so suddenly. The entire room froze in stunned silence. "Magnolia, are you insane?" someone shouted. "The Saccone family took care of you for so many years, and now you dare to hit your own father?" At that moment, a cold, aged voice rang out from the doorway. "If he can mistake his own biological daughter for someone else, I'd say she didn't hit him hard enough!"

“That’s what I love most about you. Your spirit. Your fire. The way you never give up even when you should.” His thumb brushed across my cheek. And then he struck. The slap came so fast I didn’t see it. I didn’t even have time to brace myself. My head snapped to the side. Pain exploded across my face. I tasted blood. “That,” Sylvester said pleasantly, “is for five hundred years of defiance.” I tried to pull away. But his grip on my face tightened. Fingers digging into my jaw. Another slap. Much harder this time. This one drove me fully to the ground. My vision swam. My ears rang as more blood spilled out.

Spitting on his face gave her overwhelming satisfaction. "Pakkk!" A resonating slap sound echoed the room. Sen. Meyer slapped Trishia hard. Trishia's head swayed on the side but she was not shoved to the ground as his men were holding her strongly. Instantly, blood came out from the corner of Trishia's mouth. It didn't bother her as she kept on chuckling. "Pakkk!" Another loud slap was heard. Trishia's head swayed to the other side. "Hahaha!" She laughed out loud still not bothered with her swollen cheeks. "Pakkk!" It was the loudest slap and her blood hit the floor. More blood came out of her mouth but she was still cackling.

The edges of my vision darken and my pussy clenches and then he pulls back just enough for me to gasp before pushing deep again. "This mouth is mine." He fucks my face with controlled thrusts. "This throat is mine." Deeper. I gag and spit floods and drools from my stretched lips onto my bare tits. "You don't smile at other men with this mouth. You don't laugh at their jokes with this tongue." He pulls out. Grips his wet cock. Slaps it against my face – my left cheek, then my right, the heavy slap of flesh on flesh. I flinch at each impact and my pussy gushes and he does it again, painting my face with my own spit.

IVY My face is burning but I swallow the sting in my chest and slowly turn my head back to face him. Holding his eyes, I swing my hand back and forcefully connect it with his right cheek, slapping him hard. The crowd gasps in horror, mind you they had no reaction when he slapped me first. The rage bubbles in me so hotly that before he can recover, I slap him hard again on the other cheek and then again. "Don't you ever put your hands on me again," I say quietly, clenching my fist at my side so I don't slap him one more time.

People who have pretended to play a role and fooled us all. “Don’t touch me!” I say, pushing my head to the other side so I don’t have to see him, but I’m met with a bruising slap across my face. Not on the side that he hit the first time. This one is more potent, more painful than the last.

he uttered, a mocking tone laced with the taste of his own brutality. Without lending any attention to his words, I unleashed the full force of my frustration with a resounding slap across his face. The echo of the slap reverberated through the corridor, freezing everyone in their tracks. The onlookers, drawn like moths to the flame of confrontation, paused in a collective hush, perhaps relishing the unexpected spectacle unfolding before them. The sharp crack of my palm meeting his cheek hung in the air, a punctuation mark punctuating the tense silence. Niall's expression shifted from smug arrogance to stunned disbelief, his cheek bearing the crimson imprint of my defiance.

I claw at the arm around my waist, nails digging deep enough that I feel skin break. He hisses. “Hold her still…” “Fuck you!” I spit, twisting again, trying to throw my weight off balance. For a second, just a second, I think I might actually get free. Then, a sharp slap cracks across my face. The sound is loud. Too loud. Pain explodes across my cheek, hot and immediate, my head snapping to the side as everything blurs for a split second.

Before I could react, her hand cracked across my face, the slap stinging my cheek and snapping my head to the side. I flinched, clutching my cheek, the pain sharp but nothing compared to the fury igniting inside me. Stanley and Ryan—who’d been lurking nearby—started walking toward me, but I didn’t need them. I swung back, my hand connecting with Tasha’s face in a loud, satisfying smack. The force sent her stumbling, her heels skidding on the pavement, and she crashed to the ground with a yelp.