Lesbian Horror Novels & Stories

“Your report about Helena’s divorce with Zayden was wrong, Shadow. I have given you a simple task and see, that’s how you completed it? By lying?” Sylvia grabbed a bucket of concentrated wolfs-bane liquid and poured it over the cloaked man, his blood-curdling screams resonating in the room. “I have seen her going on a date with a lycan. They are in love, master.” Presumptuous! Sylvia brought out her cell phone and played a video on it. “Meet the Luna of the Moon Howlers Pack, Alpha Xavier.” Helena and Zayden’s couple ran a chill down Shadow’s spine, his defense was weak like his trembling voice.

Tiana Greene arrives on Lycan Isle with nothing but a suitcase, a scarred past, and a desperate need for work. When she is hired as a maid in the sprawling cliff-side mansion of Ross Lycan – the island’s reclusive billionaire – she expects long hours, strict rules, and silence. What she does not expect is the man himself: cold as the steel in his voice, brutally private, and carrying a shadow in his gaze that keeps everyone at arm’s length. Rumours whisper through the island of former staff fleeing in fear, of Ross’s cruelty, and of the mysteriously vanished brother whose memory haunts the mansion halls. Tiana tries to keep her distance, but every forbidden glance and accidental touch tight

"How did you—" "Because you've been acting differently since yesterday. Pulling away from me, flinching like , I would hurt you. I assumed it was temporary. And Lucas came to me last night asking if Mama was mad at him for keeping their secret." I watched her face carefully. "What did you do after he healed you, Isabella? What research did you do that made you so terrified?" She looked away, shame and fear warring in her expression. "I looked up werewolf mythology. Found stories about human sacrifices and Luna ceremonies and mates being claimed against their will. I thought—I was so sure you were planning to—"

So, I killed him, stashed his phone, and used it to send that murder threat, giving Jacob his opening. Under my conditioning, Jacob was no longer satisfied with torturing animals. He craved human blood, so I gave him the chance, and sure enough, he didn't disappoint me. Jacob's face twisted with mounting terror, and he gasped for air. "Oh, sorry. I almost forgot you are allergic to pollen." I looked at the fresh flowers in the room, stood, and picked up the trash bag. "I guess you rushed out without your meds, right? I'm heading out."

he replied with a low grunt. Light’s dilated eyes unfurled to see Lexi, and her distorted facial features made his heart skip a beat. Her horns were terrifying to look at. But he came all the way from the southern side of Hamlet to know what it would feel like to fuck a sex demon. Having said that, he would be damned if he missed the opportunity. She looked more grotesque as he fucked her, but her pussy was so warm and wet that he filled her womb with his cum.

Love, Teagan The Closeted Lesbian

June leaned closer to confirm her suspicions of the creature that Madison found to make sure that it was what Veronica had morphed into. “A Lamia? “June said. She read the description of the folklore. “Seriously, where did you find this book? “ “Like I told you before, I found it on the bookshelf down there,” Madison said as she continued to scroll through the pages. “Trying to find out what coach Lockwood turn into? “April G asked. “Yeah, I think I just found it,” “Well, do not keep us in suspense,” June said. “He was an aqrabuamelu. Apparently, it is a scorpion human hybrid that feeds on virgins and young women, “

“I think so too. Do you guys think he’s being possessed by Asmodeus?” Sebastion gave a solemn nod. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” Looking at them both, Gary pinched the bridge of his nose helplessly. “Are you two writing a horror story?” “This is too terrifying for a horror story, okay?” said Henry. “Don’t ask. We don’t know,” said Sebastian.

The only light now came from the thin gap under the door—faint hallway glow that slowly dimmed as Lily turned off the lights upstairs. Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time dissolved in the black. I sat on the cold floor, back against the unyielding door, whispering her name like a prayer. My mind raced through every horror movie I’d ever seen, but none prepared me for this: the monster didn’t look like a beast. It looked like me. It sounded like me. And my daughter had believed it. I thought about the “C9” boxes—Christmas decorations, year 2009 or something trivial. Now the label felt like a mocking code. C9. The Monster In The Basement.