Hung Shemales

Natalie Underwood and Damian Abbott were high school sweethearts. Both of them were the most good-looking students back in high school, and when they began dating, they were the most well-known golden couple on campus. There was once when they had made a vow to get married once they reached the legal age to do so. But just when their love for each other reached its peak, Natalie suddenly broke up with Damian before leaving the country with a rich scion. On the day of their break-up, Damian chased after Natalie for a very long time with red-rimmed eyes. To think that a young man as prideful as him kept begging her not to break up with him. He kept promising her that he would be successful one day. Damian begged Natalie not to act so rashly. He pleaded with her to wait for him and not to fall in love with someone else. But Natalie remained cold and aloof to him. She didn't even want to waste her breath on him. Heck, when she witnessed him getting into a car accident during his pursuit, she didn't bother returning to him. It was an extremely serious car crash. Damian's kidney was completely ruptured. He needed a kidney transplant in order to survive. Although he was lying on the surgical table while drenched in his own blood, he insisted on getting up so that he could call Natalie on the phone. But the calls that he had mustered all of his strength to place ended up getting hung up by Natalie repeatedly. For as deep as Damian's love for Natalie ran, hatred could run just as deep. From that day onward, Damien had nothing but burning hatred for Natalie.

My crippled sister, Monica Porter, jumped from the roof of the classroom building. The day before she died, she had just been fitted with the custom prosthetic legs I had paid for with ten years of savings. She was glowing, excited to finally stand up on her own. But my wife's best friend, a guy she said was just like a brother to her, locked Monica inside an empty art room. He smashed her new legs, forced her to crawl on the floor and lick paint clean to retrieve the broken parts, and recorded everything on video. And my wife, a judge, ultimately ruled that the case could not stand. "The video cannot confirm the time it was recorded and may represent consensual performance art between both parties," she said. Sandra Pauley's final judgment was simple. "The deceased had a history of depression. The school and the defendant bear no responsibility." I smiled and cooked her a full table of food. The next day, I hung the bully, Eric Hoyles, from the school's flagpole and livestreamed it to the entire internet. "Honey, remember how you said Monica had such pretty legs?" I raised a claw hammer and brought it down on his ankle. "If you don't hand over the video evidence right now, I'll hook out his Achilles tendon one strand at a time and let him learn what it feels like to crawl!" The wind passed through. His screaming broke apart in the air, mixing with the strained creaking of the flagpole until it sounded almost like music. The live chat went insane. Meanwhile, I laughed until my eyes filled with tears.

On the eve of my engagement banquet, news broke that my fiancé had fathered a child with his mistress, and it spread like wildfire. Before I could confront him, Jayden Ford brushed it off casually. "It was just an accident. Focus on organizing the engagement banquet first. Besides, your dad’s in the late stages of stomach cancer. Calling off the engagement now won’t do either family any good." That night, he skipped the banquet but posted a photo of a swaddled newborn on social media. When I video-called him, he was bottle-feeding the baby. "I’ve been busy taking care of the kid. You know how it is. Our family lineage has always been sparse and dwindling, and the child takes priority." He wiped milk from the baby’s mouth. "But don’t worry. Once he’s a month old, I’ll send him to the overseas. Just show up on holidays and pretend to be his mom. The title of Mrs. Ford will always be yours." I stared at the matching diamond ring on his finger and couldn’t help but laugh. "Jayden, this engagement is off." He scoffed, "You're really throwing a tantrum over something like this? Don’t be so childish." I hung up on him and called his father—Charles Ford—directly. "I heard you’re looking for a new wife? Why not consider me?" I ran a hand over my belly and smiled. "After all, I’ve got a naturally fertile body. I can give you as many sons as you want." So much for being the sole heir. I’ll make sure he has plenty of brothers to keep him company.

After eight years of love, Liz Smith went from being the woman Zac Lincoln once saw as the love he could never forget, to someone he couldn’t wait to get rid of. She had spent three years trying to hold on, giving everything she had. But once her last bit of affection ran dry, she finally gave up and walked away. On the day they broke up, Zac sneered coldly and said, “Liz, I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back, begging me to take you back.” But what came instead wasn’t a plea—it was news that she was getting married. Furious, he called her. “Are you done with your little game?” A deep male voice answered from the other end. “Mr. Lincoln, my fiancée is in the shower. She can’t come to the phone right now.” Zac let out a bitter laugh and hung up. He convinced himself it was just another one of Liz’s tricks—playing hard to get. It wasn’t until her wedding day, when he saw her in a white gown, holding a bouquet, walking down the aisle toward another man, that reality finally hit him. Liz had truly let him go. Like a madman, he pushed through the crowd and rushed to her. “Liz, I know I was wrong. Please don’t marry someone else. Please.” Liz lifted her dress and walked right past him. “Didn’t you say you and Xena were perfect for each other? Why are you kneeling at my wedding now, Mr. Lincoln?”

Jaroch, my mate, had a twin brother, Torma, who was the Gamma of the Shadow Grove Pack. Torma was born with exceptional combat abilities. After Torma died, my mother-in-law, Neradia, feared losing influence in the pack. She forced Jaroch to assume Torma's identity and take over as Gamma. To keep the lie from unraveling, she ordered Jaroch to sleep nightly with his widowed sister-in-law, Lezah, hoping they'd produce a pup. I was furious and protested against it. Neradia slapped me hard across the face. "As long as Lezah doesn't remarry, your husband will continue to be the Gamma. You'll enjoy endless wealth and glory too," she said. I thought Jaroch would refuse, but he had no problem tossing morality aside and getting into bed with Lezah. The worst part was that they flaunted their love right in front of me. When Lezah got pregnant, I decided I'd had enough. I wanted to leave with my daughter, Sylvia Cardin. Instead, Jaroch locked me in a room and went on a family vacation with everyone else but me. That was when a pack of rogues broke into our home. They robbed us, set fire to the house, and were about to kill everyone. I called Jaroch in a panic and begged for help, but he replied in an irritated voice, "Bityah, stop making a scene. Just behave! "Lezah agreed to get along with you. You should learn from her and be more considerate. "From now on, I'll spend Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays with you. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays are hers." He then hung up. The house burned to the ground, and I died in the fire. He had already severed our mate bond. He didn't even sense that I was gone. Only Sylvia cried out in the flames. "Mommy! Mommy, please don't leave me!"

"Ella! You belong to me. Your body, your soul, all of you is mine, Alpha Marcus says. You're destined for me! You can run anywhere, but in the end, I will find you, you are meant for me." Ella struggled to catch her breath as she sobbed. She felt the pain that Marcus was with someone else, he was her mate, but he refused to get close to her, even though everyone feared him. She hated him, yet she had seen the good in him. She drank until she was drunk and then made her way to Marcus's room. She entered the room but didn't find him, so she headed to the bathroom where she found him in the jacuzzi, his massive muscles dripping with water. Marcus took the towel that hung nearby and asked coldly, "Ella, what are you doing here?" She was swaying, nearly falling, and said, "Why do you punish me like this? I'm hot and tempting. How can you not be affected by my presence?" Marcus realized she was drunk, picked her up, and asked in concern, "Are you okay?" He stood close to her, making it hard for her to breathe. It was as if she was about to have a breakdown. She was about to leave, tears streaming, but before she could make any more moves, Marcus immediately trapped her, placing his arms on either side of her. Both of them swallowed hard when their eyes met. A strange, powerful, but addictive feeling surged between them. "You have to stay here, Ella," he said. She looked at his half-opened lips. Intense and unwanted thoughts filled her mind as her breaths escaped her. Ella stated painfully, "I'm sure you feel it too, Marcus... You're my mate."

“You will move to the Emerson’s family,” the judge announced, his voice echoing through the cold courtroom. His final words hung in the air, making me jump as he used his gavel to close my argument to move to yet another foster home. My name is Emily. For the past three years, I have been caught in a perpetual cycle of living in between foster homes, on the unforgiving streets The tragic loss of my parents when I was only fourteen left me with no choice but to rely on the mercy of the foster system. Unfortunately, my only living relative, deemed me too much of a burden due to my unpredictable moods. Consequently, I have been tossed from one foster family to another like a forgotten toy. With only four months left until my eighteenth birthday, I find myself being sent to live with the Emerson family. From what I've heard, they have two daughters and a son named Aiden, whose ego supposedly matches his oversized shoes. Aiden Emerson, a name that resonates throughout the Ford Anglia School. He holds the distinction of being the youngest student to become a billionaire at the tender age of twenty-four he had become the proud owner of eight thriving establishments. Will they be able to cope with me, considering my troubled past? Or will I end up running away again, seeking solace on the unforgiving streets where I learned to numb my pain with drugs and temporary escapes? Now, here I am, on my way to the Emerson family, my last stop before I turn eighteen and gain the freedom to decide my own fate. I can't help but wonder what lies ahead. Will my past mistakes and inner demons continue to haunt me, pushing me towards the edge of oblivion?

I lost my dear son, Henry, to a traffic accident. He had been on his way to one of his part-time jobs. Despite working a lot, my son was still a top scorer on the SATs. “Mom, I don’t want treatment,” he begged with his last breath. “I just want Dad.” In my despair, I called Matthew Foster, my husband, more than one hundred times, but he never answered. We had been married for eighteen years, but one day, he spent all of our savings in order to pay for the treatment of his deceased comrade’s son. That got us into a debt worth one million dollars. To help him pay for it, both Henry I and worked hard to earn money. My son went as far as working five part-time jobs a day! That accident cracked his head open and tore his stomach. He was in urgent need of money for treatment. Since Matthew was not responding, I had to leave Henry’s side to rush to his workplace, where I ended up hearing that he was throwing a party for someone else’s son because he had gotten into a prestigious school. “Mr. Foster gave Zack a seaside mansion, a luxury car, and a limitless black card in hopes that he will succeed in his future studies and have a smooth and healthy life.” As I watched my “poor” husband hug his comrade’s widow and son, I called him for the 101st time. “Henry wants to see you one last time.” “I’m busy right now, Wendy. Be good with Henry and wait a little while longer.” When Matthew hung up impatiently, I put down my phone in silence. I whispered, “Matthew, Henry can no longer wait for you.” At that moment, I decided that I was not going to wait for him anymore either.

Two powerful Alpha struggling against fate in a world full of chaos and unknown threats. One Alpha in complete denial, trying to protect his pack. The other willing to do anything to save his pack. Will they give into a each other? “If you want my help you will need to renounce your title as Alpha and swear your loyalty to me and my pack.” Alpha Rhett said his stare was cold and icy as he looked at Alpha Aldric. Alpha Aldric gritted his teeth. He wouldn't let his pack suffer anymore, he couldn't keep them safe. Their numbers had shrunk to almost nothing. “It's the only way I can help protect your pack moving forward. It is too complicated with two alphas running around here. Take the offer or leave it.” Rhett said through gritted teeth. Aldric took a deep breath, part of him hated himself, hated himself for letting it come to this. Hated that he felt like he wasn't strong enough to keep going. He hung his head and dropped to his knees. He heard his pack members gasp behind him. “I, Alpha Aldric of the Cold River pack, renounce my title of Alpha and swear my Loyalty to Alpha Rhett of the Dark Moon pack.” Aldric said as pain ripped through him causing him to fall forward onto his forearm. He felt his bond from his pack rip away and felt like pieces of him were being ripped apart from him one by one. His pack behind him fell to their knees in pain as well as the bond break, sadness shaking the room. “Now submit.” Alpha Rhett said a smirk across his lips as he sent out his Alpha aura onto Aldric.

"I need you. Make love to me, please," her breathy whisper hung in the night air. His tender arms drew her closer, and his lips gently met hers. "Before this night is over, there wouldn't be part of your body that wouldn't know my touch." . . Cherry Silverbella Moores: She's the twin who doesn't give a damn. A fighter, troublemaker, and a chaotic soul. She strikes fear into the hearts of the poor people of Castle Lore. Cherry indulges in casual relationships but avoids meaningful connections like a plague. She likes to fuck but despises physical contact. She has locked away her emotions for over a decade, feeling nothing except anger and cold indifference. Ixora Crystabella Moores: She's the twin everyone adores, the nurturing mother hen. Always eager to lend a helping hand, she cleans up after her chaotic twin, managing her messes. According to the people of Castle Lore, Cherry is the 'whore,' while Ixora is the 'nun.' She is soft-spoken and shy, but when angered, she can be as volatile as her twin sister. Jake Brown: A former special agent turned medical doctor, mourning the loss of his beloved brother who died six months ago in a bomb explosion. A vital part of him has been torn away by his brother's death, and he struggles to keep himself from crumbling. Kind and gentle, he is loved by everyone due to his patience and compassion. However, he becomes a storm when provoked. Then, there's Jerald Brown: The brother everyone believed was dead but has been alive and in captivity, planning his escape for six months. He's grumpy, hates people, and prefers to keep to himself. Their lives are intertwined; two brothers who thought they had lost each other forever, and identical twins who are as different as day and night.