Master Of Mystery Review Novels & Stories

Her smile returned as quickly as it had faded. The Master. She meant Luka. "Who is this… Master? Like who is he to me?" I asked carefully. She chuckled, a light, tinkling sound. "Don't worry about it dear," she said as she waved a dismissive hand. "The master will tell you everything himself when he comes. It is not in my place to disclose the master's business." The answer, or rather, the lack of it, only served to deepen the growing unease within me. Something was amiss, definitely wrong. I felt a gaping hole in my memory, a missing piece of a puzzle that I couldn't seem to put together.

“In my case, I feel like I’m the one being mastered.” “Then…” Joghsec drawls the ‘n’ sound, prompting me to look at him again. He has a sparkle in his eyes as he says, “…put a leash on the master?” I smile. Somehow, his words axed down the rock that rose in my head, a serenity I hadn’t felt in a long while claiming me. I can even visualize the clear line between now and the previous livid state I found myself in. “I’ve never felt this good in a long time,” I whisper. Cold air brushes my face, and I blink as stray strands rest on my lashes.

Her juices glistened on his fingers and palm, the smell tantalizing him. As he removed his fingers away from her, Anita heard sucking sounds; in curiosity, she raised her head from the pillow, shocked to see her master for the night sucking at his finger like he just finished a delicious meal. All the while, he looked into her eyes with no shame, and being the shameless master he was, he dipped his finger into her again, causing her to toss her head back with a shudder. Finally, he couldn't help himself and decided to slurp the honey directly from her blooming flower. He lapped at her folds and pressed on her clitoris vibrator before finally plunging his tongue directly into her womanly fold

I hope you felt the emotions, the pain, and the happiness that came with their love story. Meaning of the Story: The Mistress is more than just a tale of betrayal and love — it is a story of forgiveness, redemption, and second chances. It shows that even when love is tested by lies, pride, and mistakes, true love will always find its way back. Lorain’s strength reminds us that pain can turn into power, and that forgiveness is not a sign of weakness but of courage. In the end, the story teaches that real happiness comes when we choose to let go of the past, forgive, and love again — not because everything is perfect, but because love deserves another chance. ❤️

“Ohh, Do you know by who?” “Unfortunately, The Master does not indulge my curiosity and I do not pry in his affairs.” She gave an almost automated response. He nodded, not wanting to make her uncomfortable but still, something seemed off, The first day he had seen her, she seemed genuinely shaken by the thought of him being close to Damian, there was a fear in her eyes one could not just fake but now, the way she spoke, the way she referred to him, ‘The Master', there was no sign of that horror, that fear that seemed so potent was gone with no trace, all that remained was what resembled reverence but he threw it to the back of his mind, Nothing was ever as black and white as it seemed, Her w

Two nights earlier, I had stood alone inside his private study praying for the walls to swallow me whole, the memory still clung to me like ice beneath my skin, I remembered standing outside his office doors while armed guards watched silently from either side. “Knock,” one ordered. My shaking knuckles barely touched the wood when he answered. “Come in, Leah.” Even his voice frightened me, I stepped inside carefully, lowering my gaze immediately the way the Mothers had trained us since childhood. The Master sat near a glowing television screen, one arm resting comfortably against a dark leather chair. Candlelight flickered across polished shelves lined with forbidden books ordinary members w

A housekeeper lets me in and tells me Damien’s expecting me in his study, and I walk there with the canvas under my arm like a shield. He’s at his desk when I come in, jacket off, sleeves rolled, and he looks up in a way that makes my chest go tight and stupid. “I wanted this man” I want him to fill me up with his cock…shut up Lucas! I snapped back. “Anastasia said you’d be reviewing on her behalf,” I say, too fast, setting the canvas against the wall. “So I hear.” He comes around the desk, studies the painting for a long moment really studies it, not the polite glance-and-nod I expected. “It’s good. Better than good.”

Master was now standing before me, separating me from Drake who was still on the floor. "What did you do to me you backstabbing bastard?" I hissed through my teeth. Master made no move and just crossed his arms, watching me. I couldn't read him, he was stoic and expressionless. If he wasn't going to answer me, then I would leave. I let my eyes wander around the room, looking for an opening. It was small, smaller than the rooms I was use to sleeping in. More importantly, it was a small stone room with no windows. I peeked around Master's shoulders and noticed a gate. Was I in a prison cell? Since when did the Manor have a dungeon? So I glared at Drake who had pieced himself together and stood

I double my efforts on Mistress' pussy, knowing it would not be long before I climaxed, and from the groans that Master was letting out, I knew it wouldn't be long before he joined me. I did not know why I worried though, because in seconds, Mistress' grip became unbreakable, and she ground her sweet pussy against my face as I sucked hard on her clit. A new taste filled my mouth, a deeper, richer flavor that was just as intriguing and addictive. She stiffened and screamed loudly before melting away back onto the bed. Her body slacked minus a few little twitches as the spasms continued to rock her. I bent forward, lapping at her gently, loving the sound of her helpless little moans whenever I

I gasp and snap them open, staring at him. "Repeat it. I want the details. How do you want to be fucked?” He tells me as he gestures for Robert to penetrate me. I am tied up against the column as one of the holy martyrs in the representations. I feel crucified and yet I feel so desirable that I bathe Robert's cock extensively and feel like I'm about to spit out all my liquid. The Master smiles, does not stop staring at me, brings his lips to my ear, and licks it. "Come on, tell me. I know you like it.” he teases