Giantess Jolene Novels & Stories

He glanced around, awaiting a response. Gamma Jannel is a captivating figure, a black she-wolf with a long, lean build that carries just the right amount of muscle. Her short Afro hair accentuates her strong, chiseled facial features that convey both authority and elegance. She bears a striking resemblance to the iconic Grace Jones, rarely smiles, and is continually absorbed in her work. Her presence commands respect and often gives chills to those who encounter her.

Dante only smiled wider. "I would prefer to be served exclusively by Jolene during my stay," Dante announced loudly, his voice brooking no argument. Jo burned with rage inside. Nearby, Gina — dressed in a low-cut top and a too-tight skirt — giggled stupidly. She tugged her shirt even lower, showing off as much cleavage as possible. Typical. Gina could turn heads with her pretty face and perfectly straight blonde hair, but anyone who knew her temper and cruelty quickly turned away in disgust.

Slowly, I turned, my tear-streaked face lifting to meet Jolene’s cold, triumphant gaze. She stood with her arms crossed, her white silk dress untouched by the dirt and chaos of the night. Even in the moonlight, her beauty was undeniable—golden curls, bright green eyes, a smile so sweet it could rot souls. I was jealous. No, the better words were, bitter and envious. The smile widened. “Finally,” she sighed. “I thought you’d never stop crying.” I stared at her, chest rising and falling in small breaths. She took a step forward. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.”

At precisely two o'clock, somebody sat opposite her. No introduction. No hesitation. No dramatic reveal. Just a woman taking a seat. Quietly. Naturally. As though they'd known each other for years. Jessica stared. Unable to speak. Unable to process what she was seeing. Because Isabelle wasn't a stranger. Not entirely. The woman appeared to be in her late fifties. Perhaps early sixties. Grey beginning to appear in her dark hair. Sharp intelligent eyes. A face marked by experience. By survival. By life.

The next day I was awoken by two unfamiliar faces who introduced themselves as Jolene and Andrés. Jolene was Caius’s personal assistant who would be escorting me to a handful of boutiques in Seattle for my new wardrobe. She was young and pretty with her onyx locks twisted into a neat updo on the top of her head. The pencil skirt she wore hugged her slender frame, while her top was cut low, revealing her cleavage. Andrés was Caius’s publicist, which also meant he was now my publicist too. The male was obscenely attractive with his tanned skin and curly hair, leading me to believe all the males in Caius’s pack had their own personal allure. Of course, none of them were able to outshine the ang

~Jasper’s POV~ Jolene looked like a fish out of a pond, and her hands started trembling at her own admission but she couldn't possibly mean what I think she meant. So, to give her the benefit of doubt I asked, “What do you mean subscribers? Like, on Youtube or something?” “No,” she said quietly, her face going red. Her petite yet curvy body trembling under my heated gaze as I expected her to answer. Her voice, goddamn, her voice. I could have sat there for days just listening to her.

Cheryl sang, shrugging at them as if she were only stating the truth. “You…” Jolene hissed, her face growing uglier. “How dare you? Did you forget who I am? If I want, I can crush your silly little business right now. Consider it my generosity that I haven’t done anything like that yet. If I had, you would be forced to beg on the fucking streets.” Juliette’s jaw tightened, but she kept her cool, staring at Jolene with that same calm indifference she had mastered over time. “Generosity? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

She asked. "Yes… .and.. " she started crying, "I need your help." "Oh,… what can a goddess like I, do for you?" She asked. Jolene was under house arrest because of what happened in the boutique. Her family managed to remove her from her cell and placed her under house arrest. "That slut named Gem, she bewitched him, now I'm back he’s pushing me away. I heard Gem sold her body to him. She’s having sex with him and this is making him not want to see me…..he even said he’ll break our engagement."

Batt I sit at the bar in The Gentlemen’s Club, glass of Jameson Whiskey in my hand as I watch her dance. Amora, she’s beyond beautiful, but in an old Hollywood glamour kind of way, not this baby doll, little girl looks from today. She has strong features, beautiful almond shaped green eyes, high pronounced cheek bones. Her skin was the most beautiful caramel color I had ever seen. I have imagined many times how soft she must feel. She must taste like vanilla, or strawberries. I close my eyes as my mouth waters at the thought. I open my eyes as I hear the music change, and she starts to sway a bit more as her hands roam her body like a lovers would. She was slowly making her way to her breast