Madam Bones Novels & Stories

Mom stood tall, beaming, going around the table clinking glasses with every relative in sight. The moment the money hit the account, Uncle Keith couldn't help himself. Within three days, he'd bought himself the latest Porsche and paid cash for a house in the suburbs for Brandon. His Instagram was a daily parade of excess, luxury dinners and designer shopping sprees, burning through cash as if it would never run out. Mom didn't say a single word against any of it. She even seemed proud, like they'd earned every cent. Using the new company as a front, I approached Uncle Keith's business under the guise of exploring a potential partnership.

“Just go.” She fixed her dress, legs still trembling, cum from the condom slick on her inner thigh. The sting in her chest felt too real now—hurt mixed with the afterglow. “You know what? Fuck you, Blake. Next time you want me, you can beg.” She walked up the stairs alone, chin high even though her knees felt weak. Back in the party noise, Madison spotted her immediately, eyes narrowing at the fresh bite mark on her shoulder. “Slumming it in the basement, whale?” Madison sneered loud enough for half the room to hear.

Lipstick long gone. She didn’t fix any of it. She just smiled at her own reflection. A slow, terrifying smile. Because she was coming back. Not because a man summoned her. Not because a room expected her. But because her grandmother had whispered to her bones: “A throne can’t be stolen. It must be claimed.” She went to her closet and pulled out a different pair of heels. Not her usual Domica boots. These were Madam’s. Red suede, six inches, worn only once.

"There is nothing wrong with what I am wearing." "That's an opinion," Madison hums. "And you are entitled to have your opinion, of course, it just happens to be wrong." Madison, of course, is flawless with her straight strawberry blonde hair slicked back behind her ears and her long knit black dress encasing her from the base of her chin to her ankles and wrists. Like always. she looks as if she just came from the set of a New York fashion shoot. And for all I know she did. It's not like she doesn't have enough money to do so.

“You know the answer’s hell no. Don’t act like my two holes don’t scream it loud and clear. Right now, I want ’em both stuffed to the brim.” Fernand chuckled, nodding approvingly. “Out of every whore who crawls in here, you’re the one we all line up for. What the hell don’t you have? Especially those heavenly tits I could suck on for hours. Strip off so we can bury our cocks in you and get this orgy rolling.” Maddie quickly pulled down her skirt, and took off her bra, so her big tits bounced free, barely contained by the thin leather harness that framed them. She left on only the harness and her thigh-high fishnet stockings, then kicked off her boots, practically naked and excited to get her

For the next few minutes, I keep trying to rouse my mate out of his state of unconsciousness by calling his name and reaching out for him through our mating bond. Eventually, the door opens, and the tell-tale clacking of heels against the concrete floor fills my ears. Madam Noir steps into my line of vision. She has a nasty black eye, and her right shoulder looks stiff. She's wearing red heels, and her nails are painted red. There's a blank look on her face, but I can feel the hostility oozing from her. Her gaze darkens when it falls on my mate. Her uninjured eye twitches and she heads towards the table, staring at the weapons with a sudden sparkle in her eyes.

She’d put on her best smile and offered to get him another one on the house, but the hulking brutelike motherfucker had gotten it into his drug-addled head to teach her a lesson about “disrespecting her betters.” That was the same oily feeling Madison got from this lot. They weren’t even Wolves – at least she thought so. She’d never seen a potbellied Werewolf before. They were pigs, through and through. “I’m a waitress, so unless your little game involves seeing how many bottles of Patrón I can convince the house to comp you, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

"What if I don't give it to you?" "Lady Bodhisattva, please give me a bowl of meat." "Lady Bodhisattva? Isn't she a pink skeleton?" "You are a pink skeleton, but the others are really skeletons." Madam Blossom was speechless. However, this scene made Jason laugh heartily, since he had seen how thick the monk's face was.

"Who are you anyway?" She looked at me as if I had offended her, a freshly manicured hand positioned over her heart. "Yurissa Woods." A snort escaped my lips before I could stop it. "And I'm Madonna." Yurissa was a big time model and actress. Sure this lady may have a lot of features that look similar to Yurissa Woods, but this woman was bigger than Yurissa, weight-wise. And besides Yurissa quit acting and modeling all together. Had to do with something about not liking the business.

Bonnie said as laid on a blue Bed mattress while wearing an ankle brace. “Hello, Ms. Chan.” Said Nurse Barbara Lou; a Filipino woman in her late thirties. “Please take a seat. You too, Ms. Violet. Your clothes should be ready soon.” “Yes, maam” the girls agreed as the cash sat on a blue mattress with Bonnie in the middle. “So, it’s April, Right?” Madison said. “Bonnie.” she corrected her. “What’s the G for?” June – asked. After hearing that question, Bonnie reached for her neck.