I Am A Stick の小説・ストーリー

However, it doesn’t take long for all eyes to come to rest on me as I stare down at the tiny twig in my palm. "It’s me." I murmur. "I’m the hider."

he snapped. "I... I... Am sorry sir, Kim is my friend, they were all ganging up against her, I couldn't stand and watch, please forgive me sir," Claire stuttered shivering uncontrollably. "Your friend threw a first punch at the circle she couldn't fight off all by herself, foolishness at it's peak," he stated. "Now, get out before I change my mind." "Thank you sir," Claire squealed and quickly took to her heels. "And you, miss trouble."

He said. My mate is such a softie. I smiled at him gently. “Isaiah, we are not gentle women. We are both in the hospital because we aren’t gentle. Sinclair, myself, hell…even Thalia, we have shit backgrounds. We have dealt with worse. You brought her to the hospital. She’s alive. You did good. Stop worrying, okay?” He sighed, “Fine.” Then he smirked, “So you nicknamed me Stickler?” I smiled, “Yes. You follow the rules too much. I bet you feel out of your comfort zone right now even being here and not being the beta at Blackstone.”

She was soft and felt right for his arms. His cheeks started to flare up and he felt uncomfortable down there. It’s been a while since the breakup and he felt it would be too impure to jerk off in Fin’s apartment. In fact, he shouldn’t be hard for Fin’s body at all! The best way is to start imagining the weirdest things he could come up with. Stone Cold Steve Austin in a tutu dress, he chanted, mentally. Stone Cold Steve Austin in a tutu dress. It took a while till he sighed. Finally, his member softened.

We were both on our backs. I scrambled to get up, but he shoved the stick to my throat. "Stay down, or I'll have your throat ripped out." Easy enough. I froze. Vivid still stood there. Shaking. At least she was safe from the stick. Mr. Big Stick turned his attention to her, leaning in, sniffing her hair. I felt rage boiling in my veins, shifting to get in again. Mr. Big Stick growled and swung the stick to hit me in the leg. "I said stay down."

"Your liver is the size of a chicken's! You wouldn't even know the difference between milk and vinegar, you dumb butternut squash!" After repeatedly beating the pile of leaves, the stick finally breaks and I throw it away, jumping onto the pile, as I pound both my feet down onto it. When I've nearly worn myself out, I stomp on it one foot at a time while I let one last big holler. It's been so long since Ive had a good tantrum! Releasing my pent up rage, not only for this situation, but for all the things that I've endured is all coming out at once. I trip on the broken off half of the stick and go tumbling to the ground with a big thump.

I was looking at them like a fish with opened mouth. Mango came forward to me and sang the lyrics, 'Got the magic stick, I'm the love doctor Have your friends teasing you about how sprung I got you When you show me what you working, baby, no problem Get on top, get your bounce around like a low rider I'm a seasoned vet when it come to this shit After you work up a sweat, you could play with the stick I'm trying to explain, baby, the best way I can I melt in your mouth, girl, not in your hand (uh-huh)'

I was tired of being the damsel in distress, tired of feeling helpless. Tired of being a pawn. Today felt different though. Heavier. Like something was about to crack open. Nico tossed a wooden stick toward me, which I caught clumsily. "We'll start with the basics," he said, circling me like a predator. I tightened my grip. "I am not made of glass," I muttered under my breath. He chuckled lowly. "Good. Then stop acting like you are." I lunged forward, clumsy and angry, swinging the stick at him. Nico dodged easily, grabbing my wrist and twisting it until the stick clattered to the ground.

My grip on the stick shifted, turning it from equipment into a weapon. “Jace…We’re not alone.”

We all go silent and look at the stairwell, praying the man didn’t hear. After a minute I rush over and grab the stick before crawling back and attempting to move the rock closer with the stick. The stick is just long enough to nudge it towards me a tiny bit. I reach out my arm again trying to grab it. My face squished against the cold metal bars. “Just a little further,” I tell myself out loud. I feel the rock below my fingertips and I manage to flick it closer towards me. I sigh as I hear it clink against the cage.