Madam Giselle Novels & Stories

GRACE "Have you heard the latest gist, four eyes? I'm sure you haven't. After all, you're the least important person around here," Giselle, an executive secretary mocked in her usual overly high pitched voice. Giselle as usual was dressed in a smart business suit which clung to her abundant curves. She was just the perfect example of a blonde bombshell. Unfortunately, Giselle's intellect as compared to her huge breasts was as little as a mustard seed.

“Five…” Isabelle was the only person in the room who seemed to see Gary. She smiled sweetly at him and blew him a kiss. “Six…” “I’ll see you in hell, lover.” “Seven…” Suddenly Isabelle turned and, faster than should ever have been humanly possible, hurtled towards the back exit. The door flew open and she was gone, the remains of the exit in a not much better state of repair than the now destroyed entrance. Gary ran over to the others but concentrated more on David. “What the fuck is going on?”

- Xavier - "Is there anything else you would like me to do for you, my queen?" A maid asked Giselle and she shook her head. "I will let you know when I need anything, thank you," she said and the maid walked away. She rested her hand on the stairs and looked down at the pack. Her face fell into a frown when she turned to look at me. "Do you like what you see?" I asked her casually. "I do," she did not deny. "It's beautiful."

Wearing a red petite gown and a black hat, Mrs. Ellen looked perfect. Giselle simply wore a blue gown and slippers holding her mother by her hand and they chatted on their way out of the compound. "Hello, Mr. Mi. How do you do?" She greeted her neighbour, hugging him shortly. "I am doing well, thank you. How are you Mrs. Jones?" He asked her. "I am doing well, thank you." *I see you are on your way out," he said and patted Giselle.

All I was supposed to do was to lecture the girls' information once they got inside. The first girl made her way inside of the vast room. As she was coming our way, I started reading her information. " Victoria Marcos, a twenty-two-year-old Italian girl. Biggest achievement: she made it to Vogue Italie's cover. Her dream is to be one of Victoria's secret models." Well, I can't deny how gorgeous she looks. I wasn't able to take my eyes away from her. Long black hair, tan skin, brown eyes, curvy body, and a small waste. All I've dreamed about.

A few women in their early 40's were at the far right corner of the store malapit sa may counter as the cashier busy punching with the items at the computer. And when my cautious gaze moved to the entrance of the place, I spotted Mason instead who was shamefully flirting with the two blondes in bikinis na parang di alintana ang lumalamig na panahon. Smirking, I continued checking the place. A woman with his man just choosing some bikinis at the undergarments section like what the other people around doing. No one seems suspicious. Everyone seems so indulged with their own world. Napailing-iling na lamang ako as I let out a frustrated sigh.

"By the way, I can totally feel our master's pain. The poor guy has a wife like hers, such a headache she is. I want to see what his new girlfriend looks like. She must be really beautiful and a lot nicer than the witch that our madam is." She waited no more and abruptly came outside of the closet, giving a deadly blow to the poor helper's hearts. Seeing her, their jaws hung in the air and hands trembled in fright. They immediately dropped to their knees and begged for her forgiveness. "Madam... we, we didn't know that you were inside, please forgive our foolish mouths." "Yes, madam... we will never open these devilish mouths again, not even to eat." Ursula didn't respond, neither with words

She had her reasons for keeping Carlos close, but she didn’t know it would be a snare to her in the nearest future. It suddenly started pouring rain. Xavi took Isabel by the hand, and they ran towards the nearest place they could take shelter from the rain. Luckily, they were close to the Red moon cocktail bar where they usually met for a drink, so they entered inside. Isabel quickly gave the bar attendant a signal not to announce her presence because she wanted everyone in the bar to feel at ease. Although her scent would betray her, she doubted these drunk werewolves would notice. Just as she was about taking her seat, her attention was grabbed by a very familiar voice spouting insults on

Standing by the window of my bedroom. The woman behind me isn't my mother. She is the young, vicious mistress of my father, wearing a sickly sweet, cheap floral perfume. “Look at her, Thomas,” she whispers, grabbing my member with her sharp nails. “The lady of the house. Your mother. So weak. So pathetic. Just like you. A prey. About to be devoured.” My eyes snap open in the present. My chest heaves, and I look down. The actress beneath me thrashes, gasping for air.

Their fate might be worse than that of the Parisis. ****************************************************************************