Lullaby Of Obedience Novels & Stories

her voice shivered as that night ran in her mind. "What he did to you?" "He-he-he. All I know is that he is crazy. Wild. Violent. An obsessive enthusiast. He can kill with a flick of his finger, with a flutter of his lash," she kept on saying as if in a trance, "if you g-go against him, he won't kill you but extract your soul. When you are u-under him, around him, you have got no other option but to obey because at the end only that would happen what he had mentioned in the very start. I'm scared of challenging him,"

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I nodded in fear, his grip on me still tight. As he moved closer, his fingers brushed the cheek he had just struck. His demeanor shifted, a sickening blend of sweetness and menace. "Oh, baby, does it hurt? You see, I don't want to hurt you, but you leave me with no choice. If you start obeying me, it will do you good. Right?" His tone was almost tender, a stark contrast to his actions.

"He threatened me. If I'm not obedient, he'll punish the people around me." Ashton was stunned. Then she stood up and began to curse loudly. "What a pile of garbage he is!"

His clearly defined hand gently fell on her forehead, stroking her hair with incredible gentleness. “Am I obedient?” “What… What what do you mean?” Harmonia didn't understand. “You asked me to come back to bed, and I did.” Harmonia stared at the handsome man in front of her. She felt like his gaze was thick and unyielding, like that of a predatory beast, waiting for the right moment to strike. “I meant… for you to lie down, not for us to lie down together!” But before she could finish her sentence, his deep voice rang out again, “I'm being so obedient, so don't I deserve a reward?”

Her pleasure was raw, primal, but her control never slipped. And when she came — sharp and sudden, shuddering around him — she allowed him to follow. Barely. Just a whisper of permission. “Now,” she breathed. “You may come.” And when he did — moaning into the hollow of her throat, shaking beneath her — she leaned close and whispered the final verdict: “Now you understand what obedience costs. Next time… you’ll pay in pain.” When it was over, he collapsed beneath her. Silently. Chest rising. Hands trembling. Sweat glistening like surrender.

Because even as she tried to say them out loud, she realized how crazy they sounded. You want hell? I will give it to you. Starting now. Isabelle's words echoed in her head. Over and over and over. Starting now. Starting now. Starting now. Elena's vision blurred. The room tilted sideways. "Elena?" Adrian's voice sounded far away. "Elena, stay with me. Elena!" But the darkness was pulling her down. Down into a place where Isabelle's whispered words followed her. You want hell? I will give it to you. Starting now.

“I want obedience. Silence when I demand it. Screams when I earn it. Your body, mine. For a month.” She should have walked away. But the shadows under her mother’s eyes… So she whispered, “Deal.” . . . The penthouse was ice and obsidian, all clean lines and brutal taste. He didn’t even show her around. Just handed her a black card and nodded to the east wing. “Start tomorrow. Six a.m. sharp.” “For what?” “Obedience training.” She scoffed. “You’re not serious.” Tobias stepped close. His cologne, something rich, bitter, and decadent sank into her bloodstream.

ALANA I wasn’t born to obey. But I learned how to fake it. The smile. The tilt of my head. The softness behind every “yes, sir.” Roman taught me that. How to fold myself small enough to keep breathing in a room full of men who only value sharpness when it’s in their own hands. But lately… I’ve remembered something. I wasn’t made to follow orders. I was made to give them. The estate’s war room smells like leather and ego.

My heels clicked softly on the hardwood as I crossed the space between us, like a girl being summoned in a dream. “Kneel.” The word landed like a slap and a caress all at once. I dropped without thought, the cool tile biting into my knees while fire coiled low in my belly. He stared down at me, calm, composed, while I knelt trembling, wrecked by nothing more than his voice. “I expect obedience,” he said, measured and firm. “Not hesitation. Not defiance. You said ‘yes’ and that means you trust me. Completely.” I nodded, eyes wide when breath caught in my throat.

"Show me what your body already knows… that you belong to me." I understand. Every fiber of my being compels me to obey him. My hands tremble as they reach out to him. First, a barely perceptible touch of the fabric. My fingers glide over the texture of his pants as if I were caressing something sacred. I look up at him, seeking his approval. A simple nod, almost imperceptible, and I feel my last resistances crumble. I continue, slowly, with that strange fervor, a mixture of fear and adoration. The further my gestures advance, the more my mind empties, replaced by a total intoxication: that of obeying him, of melting into him, of existing only for the pleasure of his eyes.