I Am A Stick Novels & Stories

Beneath the carved warning, four crude tally marks stood out. After a moment's thought, I took the utility knife and carved another stroke into my skin. Searching my pockets, I found a folded scrap of paper… and a few more hidden in the corners of my room. [The monster is tampering with my memory. Trust no one. Not even myself.] [The monster's cycle isn't endless. If you can't escape within a set number of loops, you will die. Permanently.]

I couldn’t look at him the same. I quickly jolted away from his grasp, grabbing a stray piece of stick and pointed it at him, “Get away from me!! You’re a monster!!”

The stick fell to the ground with a thud. “Okay, try now” I said keeping my eyes on the stick. Smith stepped around me and bent over to pick up the stick but nearly fell over as he failed. He looked at me wide-eyed and grabbed the stick with both hands, grunting as he pulled at it hard. It lifted slightly off the ground before he let it go in a huff.

I still had a use for it. I held up the bag and waved it in front of the camera. The viewers thought I was putting on an act. The chat was filled with nothing but strings of censored curse words. You could tell how nasty the comments were. However, I did not care one bit. I displayed my medical records directly. "I know you won't believe anything I say, but don't let someone with ulterior motives manipulate you into becoming their weapon. "I'm not the first person she's slandered. If you keep enabling her to do evil, then what's happening to me now will happen to you too.”

The footsteps grew heavier. Each step made the tiny stick in my hand feel useless, but I held it with both hands anyway and raised it above my head. I wasn’t about to take any chances. The moment the footsteps reached me, I closed my eyes tight and swung the stick down with everything in me. But it never landed. It stopped in midair. I struggled, pushing down with all my strength, but something held it firmly. My left eye opened first, just enough to peek.

"Hey! Take back what you say." "Never!" I exclaimed, getting up and running away from him without looking back. Soon, the next thing I know, I am lost and I left my IPad on the rooftop. "Shoot. I'm gonna be stuck here for millions of years." I whispered. I punched myself mentally. I continued to walk. "Hello? Anybody?" I asked. "I'm lost. I don't want to be stuck here for the rest of my life. You know I have a life out there." I said out loud. "Hello? Anyone?" I asked. "Oh great, I'm stuck here - Ahhhh - "

“Walk.” I looked at it. Barely six inches wide, elevated slightly off the ground. It felt like a trap. I climbed up, heels clicking nervously. “Chin up. Spine straight. Shoulders relaxed. Hips fluid. Walk like the world owes you something.” I took a step. Thwack. The stick landed across the top of my thigh, not hard, but enough to sting. I gasped. “Too stiff,” she snapped. “Again.” I tried again. This time with more sway.

I didn’t flinch. “I don’t like it when you come that close to me,” I said quietly. “And let me tell you a secret.” I turned my head so my mouth was right at his ear. “There’s a blade at the tip of this stick. Sharp. Poisoned. One quick press here,” I tapped the end lightly against his thigh, “and you’ll be a cripple for the rest of your life. Maybe worse. Or dead. Depends how fast the toxin works.” He stepped back fast.

Not this time. When she opened her eyes, she exhaled, calming herself down. She resisted the instinct to push him away, to do anything that meant she would rather kill herself than have him near her. Looking for a plausible reason that suited well for her predicament she stuttered like a frightened rabbit, "I...I.. fe..felt lonely...a..and scared"

The next morning. I woke up early, the sun was coming in through the window. It was soft and warm on my face, I blinked a few times. then sat up slowly. I could still feel the wetness of my cum around my thigh, a quiet reminder of last night. Even though I had cleaned it, it still lingered there. I stretched my arms and took a deep breath. My name is Amara, I’m twenty years old. This is my first real job, working as a maid in Mr. Grey’s house.