Henry Stick Man Novels & Stories

He was looking forward to seeing both of them in the most exquisite of detail. Henry carefully lowered his shirt over his cum-splattered stomach then fastened up his trousers and belt, trapping the cooling semen against his skin. Carefully he stood up and walked to the exit, feeling it oozing down his stomach. He smiled, loving the feeling, the scent of his own cum, especially if he bumped into anyone outside. He'd deliberately hold them in conversation, just to see if they'd notice the smell. Few did, none of them figured it out though. He left the 'Bunker' and entered the kitchen, taking the sandwich that the Chef always left out for him, munching on it as he walked back to his apartment a

He gets on top of her, pins her down and holds the stick to her neck. “Understand what I mean now? When you get me down, you need to move back enough so I can’t grab you; then pin me with your stick/future sword.” “Yes, I see now. Will you get off?” “Nope, since we are down and you could face this problem in the future. Most won’t care that you're a woman. Get free of me. I want you to use anything and everything you've got,” orders Henry. “Umm, are you sure? Most guys, I wouldn’t hesitate to hurt, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

The door at the back of the room slid open with a pneumatic hiss. The man who entered brought a different kind of darkness into the room. While the professors were cold and intellectual, Henry was a physical threat. He was a towering figure, standing six-foot-four, built like a heavy-weight boxer. A jagged white scar ran through his left eyebrow, interrupting an otherwise handsome face. He wore a tactical black jacket over a fitted t-shirt, and he moved with the silent, predatory grace of a leopard. "Professor," Henry said. His voice was a deep rumble that vibrated in the chest.

Leon’s POV I stared at the large, outstretched hand in front of me with hesitation. The hand was encased in a black leather glove, exactly like the ones my father owned. Slowly, I accepted it. The mysterious man's grip felt so solid, effortlessly pulling my small body up to my feet with just one light tug. "Thank you, Sir," I mumbled, patting the dust off my pants. The man didn't answer. He bent down with an elegant motion and picked up my favorite hockey stick lying on the floor. His dark, sharp eyes examined the stick for a moment before he looked at me.

A man rushed to him, trying to hit the rod at full speed toward his head, his target dodged it, distracting him from not seeing an incoming hand snatching the rod from his arm. Henry smirks, he hits the rod of the man's head and he collapsed at once. He used the rod to beat up every man that comes his way till they starts bleeding. Celine also managed to forcefully steal a rod and she continued fighting back even if she has no strength, she has skills. She waves the rod around her making any man that comes close to her fall.

When he yelled out the subsequent word, the section man immediately embedded a couple of disgusting cloth into his mouth. The smelling smell gave Henry dry hurls. His eyes goggled and body shuddered as he was dragged out of the car. The man was with a solid smell of blood, and the hand holding Henry was likewise stained with blood. Such a solid effect made Henry faint. Seeing this, the person who snatched Henry tapped his face, and jeered at him obviousness. He stepped away close behind with Henry conveyed. Before long, they took Henry to an abandoned house. The men immediately removed Henry's jacket, limited his sight and feet with tape, and his mouth something similar.

into my hands — a smooth stone, a shell, even a bit of driftwood shaped like a crooked wand. “You keep that one,” he told me, placing the stick in my hand. “For luck.” I turned it over, feeling the roughness against my palm. “Thanks, bud.” Ashley started snapping pictures — Henry mid-run, Henry crouching in the sand, Henry pretending to swordfight with his own shadow. I even caught her pointing the camera at me a few times, but I didn’t say anything. Truth was, my smile in those shots probably looked real enough. But Inside was different.

I found a big and sturdy stick in the bushes and grabbed it, better this than nothing. One of them came towards me at full speed, I couldn’t even see him so I blindly swung the stick and luckily it hit him in the head, hard and he fell on the ground but he was still conscious and will recover soon so I started hitting him repeatedly until he fell unconscious, I don’t know how fast they can heal but still faster than a human so I have to leave the scene.

Hilton uttered and headed to his room. After hearing him say enemy with a cold tone, Wendy kept muttering to herself. “How did he become Hilton's enemy? Who is that man? I have to find a way to see the strange man again!”

Still not satisfied, Henry grabbed anything he could find; another stick, a piece of broken wood, and kept hitting Adams until he lay there, unconscious and helpless. Henry finally dropped the stick and stood over Adams, panting. He crouched down, brushing dirt off his bloody hands as he stared at the unconscious man. "Now," he said quietly, a cold smile spreading across his face, "Let's see what you've been planning" Henry reached into Adam's jacket, pulling out a small hidden recorder he had discreetly planted on Adams during their last encounter. Henry looked down at him one last time, his smile gone now, replaced by a dangerous calmness.