Littles Stories Novels & Stories

I ask her. "And then you can discuss punishment and special rules," she explains to us. "Do you want to read it? Or should I read it?" Nickolai offers me, but I pay better attention while I'm reading. "I'll read it, thank you," I say wanting to see the papers for myself, I started reading right away. Dom and Littles contract. Definition: A little is someone who regresses to a younger headspace, the expected headspace is between three and four.

Her questioning eyes widened. "Do I look like I'm joking?" I asked her back. "You two, stop gossiping." Jeremy scolded us. I just kept quiet. While Ana continued the storytelling. "Do you know that he had a lot of admirers here?" Ana added. "No." I answered her directly.

Time went by and one day when Miriam was waiting for Lu, she was absorbed in her studies when she felt that someone came and saw her: -What's up Lu, we are leaving. With astonishment she heard a manly voice that said: "No, I am not Lu, I am Lu: -No, I am not Lu, I am Gabriel. She looked up and it was a good looking young man, she stood up, shook off her clothes and said to him: -Sorry Who did you say you were? -Gabriel. -I'm sorry, but I don't know you. -No, but you will soon.

Lily scoots closer and leans against my arm. “Tell me a story.” “What kind of story?” “Prince and Princess.” I pause for a moment to think. “Once upon a time, there was a prince who lived in the huge castle. He was strong and brave, but he was lonely.” Lily listens, her eyes wide and attentive. “One day, he found a Princes in the rain. She was lost and scared, and he brought her home. They fell in love and then—” Lily interrupt “That’s like you and that Scary Eyebrow Man?”

She kisses me back with shy eagerness. The End (or is it only the beginning?) That is it for my short story about Lilly and Mr. Storm. I hope that you liked to read it as much as I liked to write it.

Author's Note This book is a short compilation of erotic stories. Please note that not all entries are heavily erotic—some lean more toward emotional moments, dramatic tension, or character interaction. Also, 99% of these stories don’t follow a traditional plot, so don’t be confused if there's no clear beginning, middle, or end. They’re written more for mood, moments, and expression than full narratives. Enjoy the ride,no overthinking needed. 😉 ********************************************* Kael didn’t wait.

"Once upon a time, there was a little bunny who absolutely loved carrots." I pointed at the illustrations, adding lively gestures to match the story. The kids were hooked instantly. Their eyes brightened, no longer heavy with yawns or drifting toward everything else in the room. Slowly but surely, they shuffled closer, forming a cozy little circle around me—completely absorbed in the tale.

he continued, laughing darkly, “moaning around your uncle’s cock like a little banshee. What would your mother and my brother say if they found out their precious Katie loves being fucked by her uncle?” I tightened around him at his filthy words, making him groan louder. “That’s it… my dirty little girl loves being fucked on her uncle’s dick, doesn’t she?”

I have tried to seduce Lena countless times, but she always shyly pulled away like she was scared of getting tainted by me. I wanted to break that innocence. I wanted to hear her scream out my name in pleasure while I pounded her from behind as her huge tits bounced from the impact. I have envisioned this fantasy so hard that thinking about it made my dick twitch in my pants painfully. I fantasized about how warm her tight cunt would feel when I was balls deep inside her. How it would feel like when I fucked her mouth while those innocent brown orbs looked up to me like I was her salvation. And I would worship her like the goddess she was, if only she would give me a chance.

"That's just what a gentleman does." I curled into the far corner of the backseat, small and out of place. I kept still, listening as they traded stories that belonged only to them—from a snowy night in Sirelia to the sunrise over Mount Astrelle. I wasn't part of any of it. Streetlights streamed past the window, one after another, like splashes of whiskey. My eyes drifted to the two bottles Tristan had set on the seat. Our first date had been in a whiskey bar. I remembered him ordering the fiercest malt they had, sliding the glass toward me with a single push, his gaze shadowed and intense.