Manga Scripts Novels & Stories

“Hold the fucking counter,” he growls. I grip the edge. He slams into me raw (one brutal thrust that punches the air from my lungs). “Fuck—Jake—” I choke. He sets a punishing rhythm, hips snapping so hard the cabinets rattle, cock splitting me open. “Quiet,” he snarls, spanking my ass hard enough to echo. “Your brother’s ten feet away.” Another vicious spank. Then another. My skin burns red. “Yes—Daddy—harder—” I sob, biting my lip bloody. He spanks me again and again, handprints blooming, fucking me so deep my toes curl. “You love this, don’t you?” he rasps. “Love getting wrecked while Tyler sleeps.” “Yes—fuck yes—don’t stop—” ** Naked Scripts is a compilation of thrilling, heart throbbing erotica short stories that would keep you at the edge in anticipation for more. It's loaded with forbidden romance, domineering men, naughty and sex female leads that leaves you aching for release. From forbidden trysts to irresistible strangers. Every one holds desires, buried deep in the hearts to be treated like a slave or be called daddy! And in this collection, all your nasty fantasies would be unraveled. It would be an escape to the 9th heavens while you beg and plead for more like a good girl.

I never thought one broken promise could shatter my world twice. His name was Marcus. He swore he’d stay in touch when he left for that “year-long business trip.” Three months later, silence. No calls, no texts, nothing. On my birthday, drunk and done with heartbreak, I went home with a stranger. One reckless night. I slipped out before dawn, leaving a fake name. No more men. No more drama. Then the perfect job fell into my lap: personal assistant to Victoria Langford, a young, filthy-rich heiress. Live-in position, great pay, exactly what my sick little sister and I needed. I moved in, ready for a fresh start. Until I walked into her mansion and saw him. Marcus. In her arms. My fiancé was her boyfriend. Rage burned through me, but I swallowed it. I needed this job. He begged forgiveness, fed me lies about a big contract, how he never stopped loving me. Weak, stupid, lonely. I fell back into him. Secret touches, stolen nights, right under her nose. Then everything exploded. I came home to blood and sirens. Marcus swore he didn’t know what happened. But when the police started digging, he pointed the finger at me. How do I escape this? Who's the father of the child growing inside of me?

My breath caught in my throat as Roman’s finger grazed my chin, “I want you,” he whispers, “All of you,” I watched as his eyes flickered to my lips and back up to meet my gaze, “You are my brother Ronan,” I swallowed. “Stepbrother,” he drew closer, this time his breath was hot on my face. “This is wrong,” I managed to say, struggling to hide how obsessed I had become with his touch. His lips drew to mine, “Stop me if you don't want this, and I'll leave you alone,” he said and his lips pinned mine between his, sucking aggressively like he had been hungry for this. I didn't pull away, I didn't care, “Oh…,” I mumbled against his lips as I wrapped my arms around my stepbrother's neck. ~~~~~~ June Rourke’s life changes overnight when her mother marries powerful billionaire Victor Grayson. Forced to leave her old life behind, June transfers to an elite college she never wanted. On her first day, she clashes with a rude, arrogant boy, Ronan Grayson, only to discover hours later that he is her new stepbrother. Living under the same roof, tension builds quickly between them, turning every encounter into a battle. When a school project takes June and Ronan on a three-day trip, their hatred shifts into something neither of them expects. A single kiss changes everything, pulling them into a secret, forbidden relationship filled with tension and desire.

I used to believe silence meant peace. That if I endured long enough, stayed patient long enough, things would eventually fall into place. But the morning everything changed, I realized how wrong I had been. A room I had once asked for was suddenly cleared. Not for me. For someone else. For her. My husband didn’t hesitate when he said it. No explanation. No consideration. Just a decision that reminded me exactly where I stood in his life. I tried to ignore it. Told myself it wasn’t worth questioning. Until my birthday came. And went. No acknowledgment. No effort. Nothing. Just the quiet understanding that I no longer mattered. Then the truth found me. One moment was all it took to see everything clearly—the lies, the betrayal, the role I had been playing in a life that was never truly mine. So I signed the papers. I walked away from the marriage, from the name, from everything I had spent years holding together. I thought leaving would be the hardest part. I was wrong. Because walking away was only the beginning. And some endings don’t set you free— they pull you into something far more complicated.

After my death, I found myself inside a romance strategy game, where the system assigned me three male leads. If I followed its instructions and successfully captured the heart of any one of them, I would return alive and well in the real world. Drawing on my experience, I crafted careful scripts to win their affection. Yet, every attempt ended in failure. The reason was simple: each of them had already fallen for the dazzling heroine of their world. They hurled cruel words at me, as if wishing I would just drop dead. In the end, I fulfilled their desire—when my strategies failed, the system erased me. But the moment I died, they all regretted it. One by one, they begged the heavens to return me to them.

My wife, Maeve Sinclair, has a weird fetish. She loves roleplaying as other characters. In her scripts, I'm always the OG husband who gets abandoned by the heartless wife. Today, Maeve will be the domineering CEO who's fallen in love with her assistant. Tomorrow, she will be the professor who has the hots for her student. Every time, she will make me sign a divorce agreement. The next day, she will laugh while ripping it apart. "Darling, this is just a game." But when my dad gets into a car accident and requires 200 thousand dollars just to undergo a life-saving surgery, Maeve is playing the role of a broke woman. "I'm a penniless woman who's gone broke, Neal. I don't have any money for your dad's surgery at all." I can only watch as my dad breathes his last on the sickbed. On the day of his funeral, Maeve approaches me with a young and handsome university student clinging to her side. "Darling, I've fallen in love with my student. Let's get a divorce." Then, she pulls out a document from her briefcase and passes it to me. This time, I refuse to wait for her to rip it apart.

Elizabeth struggled to find her place in the world. After her father and mother’s separation, she found it hard to let anyone into her life and it got worse when her mother suddenly fixed her marriage 2 Years after her divorce. Uncomfortable with the decision, Elizabeth is forced to move with her mother to New Jersey to start a new life with her newly found family that she was totally unaware of. Moving in, Elizabeth is met with Shakar. The egocentric and manners less heir of the Manga(Her stepfather) who already harbored so much hate in him for Elizabeth before he even met her. In a whole new world, Elizabeth Is faced with challenges with a wounded heart of pain that was constantly being tortured by her new brother Shakar. What happens when hatred slowly turns to a beautiful dawn of hope? Will Elizabeth be able to turn hell into her beautiful habitat? Or will she lose herself trying to fix what isn’t broken?

"Maybe you should spank me. I've been very, very, very naughty, sir." He chuckled, watching me go on all fours, in the middle of his office as he sat at his desk, typing away on an electronic keyboard. "You have, Miss Lenora," he smirked. "And I'm beginning to think my punishment has been too light Biting my lips like a puppy begging for a treat, I loved the sound of his voice dripping like honey. He leaned back into his chair and returned to his work, "Now get out. I've got test scripts to mark." Lenora's world crumbles when the man she has a sizzling passion for rejects her for her sister. Heartbroken, she escapes the painful situation by enrolling at Eldridge College, a distant university where she wouldn't have to face her backstabbing sister and the sexy-as-hell Professor CJ who tore her heart into shreds. What will happen when she's in her lecture hall and sees the new professor walk in, the same man who shattered her heart? Ignore her uncontrollable lust for him by pretending that he doesn't exist, or risk everything, defying the grave consequences and surrendering to the irresistible charm that CJ possesses.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.