Metal Sonic Sketch Novels & Stories

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

I received an order to feed someone's dogs at home. But when I opened the door, what greeted me wasn't a hungry pet—it was the campus belle herself. She stuck out her tongue, a glint of metal from her tongue piercing catching the light, and said, "I'm starving…"

“No,” she breathed, true panic seizing her. “Mark, don’t —” “This is for the mess,” he said, his voice devoid of all mercy. The cold, rounded end of the handle nudged against her soaked flesh. It was so much broader than a finger, impossibly foreign. “And for the defiance," he completed before he pushed the handle of the knife inside her pussy. The stretch was immediate and shocking. It wasn’t pain. It was a profound, overwhelming fullness. The metal was cool against her burning, clenching heat. A broken scream tore from her throat as he worked it deeper, inch by relentless inch, filling her in a way that was utterly degrading. It was violation given shape and weight. He seated it fully, the cool silver pressing against her deepest parts. He held it there, letting her feel the full, impossible intrusion. Her body fought it, spasming around the unyielding object, which only made the sensation more brutal, more specific. She was panting, her tears soaking the linen, her entire universe reduced to the cold metal splitting her open. “Now,” Mark said, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned over her. His hand remained on the handle, not moving it yet. “You will stay just like this. And you will finish your dinner.” ..... Enter a world of passion, pleasure, and desire with “Steamy Encounters."

Suddenly Zeva Adelia, a freelance photographer, got a client who expressed his interest in her after spending a day together on the first day they met. However, without clarifying what their relationship was and only introducing his name as Zero, the next day Zero immediately returned to his country. He left only a trail of his handmade sketch of Zeva's face and a tiny letter asking Zeva to keep her heart's loyalty to him only. Strangely enough, by only communicating via chat, even without video or phone calls, Zeva feels that Zero has succeeded in conquering her heart. Then, can Zeva undergo a status-less relationship and a long-distance relationship with Zero? How long can Zeva endure waiting for Zero to come back for her? Also, how much does Zeva trust Zero's loyalty to her, when there's another girl like 24/7 beside Zero?

Liora Rhodes has nothing - a crumbling apartment, an empty bank account, and a metal box her mother left behind with one brutal instruction: find the truth. What she finds instead is Damian Hawthorne. A Billonaire. Ruthless. The man who built his empire on the grave of her brother Elias. Liora has to choose: finish what she came to do, or trust and love the man she was never supposed to want. Some Truth don’t set you free. They just change who’s holding the gun.

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.

"Wider, Millie. Yes, that's it." I lay weakly on the examination table, my hands unconsciously gripping the sheets. The voice behind me was low and restrained, but it made my ears burn. This examination position was too embarrassing. My buttocks were forced to arch high like some kind of submissive gesture. "Doctor, I can't open any wider..." I bit my lower lip, my voice trembling deliberately. I could see my reflection in the metal bars of the examination table. My messy hair stuck to my flushed cheeks as my eyes shone with a watery, dreamy glow.

Calen was a benchwarmer on the university swim team, someone who never actually competed. The captain, Karl, was everything he wasn’t, a campus golden boy. Three records broken. A new girlfriend every other week. One night, Calen realized he’d left something behind and went back to the locker room. That was when he heard it. Ragged breathing. Strained, barely held back. And beneath it… the slow, awful sound of metal bending under pressure. He pushed the door open. Karl stood with his back to him. His bare muscles writhed beneath his skin, moving wrong, his spine standing out in sharp ridges. His fingers were dug deep into the steel locker, nails tearing through metal, leaving long, brutal gouges. The air was thick with the smell of blood… and something wild. Predatory. Karl snapped around. His eyes burned gold in the dark. Blood stained the corner of his mouth, and when he bared his teeth, the canines were far too long. Far too sharp. He ran. He barely took two steps before something crashed into him from behind, slamming him to the floor. Karl’s weight pinned him down, his body radiating heat… too hot, almost painful. A low voice brushed his ear. “You saw something you weren’t meant to see.” “I won’t say anything….” Karl lowered his head, his nose grazing his neck as he inhaled slowly, deeply. “…You smell fucking irresistible.”

On the day before the marking ceremony, my Alpha mate, Zev Briarwood, is wounded in a battle and loses his memory. He forgets everything… including me. To help him restore his memories and Alpha pride, I go all out. I seek out an evil witch to trade my precious heartblood and fangs for her magic, nearly dying in the process. I sketch jewelry designs day and night, selling them just to earn money and to find every possible memory cure. When I drag my battered body to visit Zev at the clinic, I overhear him laughing with his buddies. "Your acting's next level, Zev! Kira still hasn't figured out you're faking it, and you've delayed the marking ceremony!" A buddy snickers. Zev gulps his wine and grins. "I'm definitely winning the bet that I'd sleep with 100 women at parties. Once I've had my fun, I'll go back to her for my mate duties and complete that marking ceremony."

This is wrong,” he stated the obvious. Eyes locked with mine like a metal to a piece of magnet. “Yet feels so right,” my response came out curt and sharp. That’s how much the tension has me caged. He came in contact with me, his breaths erratic and mine weren’t any different at the feel of his touch. Something has shifted and he it was no longer what it used to be between us. No psychic is needed to spell that out. But how? He’s Noel, the guy I’ve sworn to spend the rest of my life tormenting. And I’m Cheryl, the girl he’s promised to never let know peace.