Human Skin Wallpaper Story Novels & Stories

He never really cares about her origin until the day his ex-wife dies. Ava studies the man features. He is quite a charming man and she can't deny it...the black shiny hair that slicked to the back uncovers the matched eyebrows. His irises bloom in the colours of the oceans generating a tremendous wave that can drown a person. His lips are chapped with a small tint of dark red which gives a glow to the light green skin. He is complete! Nonetheless, his skin is attached to the flesh completely while the girl sure reveals some bones... The world is an unfair place for the weak...

"I should have known it was you. You love us so much, don't you?" I did not say anything. "What is it you want again? Skin? Oh yes. You want skin." He laughed. "Here. I'll give it to you." And without warning, he tore his skin off with the ease of clothes being torn off, and he stood before me, bleeding, skinless, and holding out his skin to me. His blood stained the ice on the insides of the pit, so that it was stained with the red. "Yes. We'll give our skins to our ancestor. He wants to be handsome." Another voice laughed. "He must remember though, that beautiful skin can never cover a rotten soul. He has no soul to show for himself."

I muttered a quick prayer in my mind and stepped into the most hottest bachelor's hood. You know, I thought drums were the only instruments that had the ability to be beaten so hard and loud. Who knew the semi-nude sight of my boss who was busy doing a press up, could make my heart pound furiously and leave my brain totally messed up. There is only one way to describe the sun-kissed specie of Homo Sapien. His skin is smooth and flawless which is like a sheet of well-done cloth, light brown skin that glistened with sweat and soft moisture each time he went lower and upper, flexing his muscles.

On a mysterious island. Keiko seemed to be thrown to the floor. "BRAKK" The sound of Keiko's body crashing onto the floor. Then came the sound of footsteps which turned out to be Gin and Gun walking inside the shrine-like place. "Plak Plaque Plaque" The sound of Gin and Gun's footsteps. Seen a creature that looks like a human but has a body that is quite large than other humans with reddish skin that is bound by chains around its body that seems to start lifting its head slowly and laughing and then starting to speak by saying ;

My dick was getting a charge out of this conversation and now it’s wilting faster than picked daisies. She innocently blinks her long eyelashes. “No. You may not have noticed but my skin is a nice brown tone. That keeps me from fucking sheep.” Her smile breaks through and I want nothing more than to kiss her. No… devour her. “It rather sucks that there aren’t more derogatory descriptive white slams,” she continues. “Your people have no problem finding terms for anyone without pasty skin.” Her kind, my kind. “Why does there need to be a kind?” I ask because I’m truly interested in her answer.

“I know what’s best for you.” I let out a bitter laugh that held no humor. “Do you really? Then look at me, Mom. Look at me.” With shaking hands, I tugged at the collar of my shirt, pulling it down and baring my chest. The fabric gave way, revealing the truth I’d hidden for weeks. My skin, once whole, was rotting in patches. A sickly gray and black spread like a disease across my flesh, reeking faintly of decay. I’d covered it with makeup, with creams, lying to myself that it wasn’t real. But now there was no hiding it.

He growled lowly and smacked his head into the side of my leg. “No!” I growled back and kicked him away. Gunner’s wolf snorted and huffed. He snapped his head back and slowly the silver fur receded into his human skin. Gunner stood back upright on two human legs, naked and in full view. I tried to avert my eyes, but it was like I lost any and all function over my body. My hungry gaze traced over every bump and every dip that his muscles created. His smooth creamy skin was basically hairless, with broad shoulders and thick defined biceps. The soft pink battle scars that marred his chest and arm only added to his painstaking beauty. My eyes followed the natural path that his muscles created, p

Lyra Ashfang POV I rushed out of the steaming bathroom and slammed a thick wad of linen against my nose, leaning my skinny, four-foot-five frame heavily against the dark stone wall while my chest heaved. My inner wolf vibrated with absolute, mortified heat, her claws scratching at my consciousness because the sheer, raw sight of his massive, scarred torso had completely short-circuited my brain. The crimson fluid soaked through the fabric rapidly, refusing to stem no matter how hard I pressed, my pitch-black skin flushing a deep, burning violet under the heavy pressure of my rising arousal.

Purple and black, layered on top of layers. Skin that pale was almost translucent. The cracks in my fingernails were still there. Where some had been ripped off, the new skin underneath was no longer pink. The blood had drained from it. It had turned wax-pale. Almost see-through. He reached out and touched my face. I could feel him shaking. His whole body was shaking. Cold. The cold of a body that's finally stopped trying to hold its own warmth. My skin didn't give under his fingers. The curve of my mouth was set hard.

My body aches from the long journey and the hardships I have endured, every muscle crying out for rest, but my mind refuses to settle, replaying every moment since my escape in vivid, painful detail. There's a small fireplace in the corner with only a music player placed carefully on top of it. The wallpaper is designed with a beautiful black and white painting, a kind of black history artwork that tells stories of struggle and resilience through its intricate lines. I look at it for a long time, tracing the details with my eyes and feeling a strange connection to the pain captured there, before I notice it is directly drawn onto the wall and not a pasted wallpaper at all. It must have cost