Milk Princesses Novels & Stories

I've been drinking milk since young, so my body is far more mature compared to my peers. When I'm 18 years old, my protective older sister, Yvonne Gibson, is worried that I might get my cherry stolen by others via trickery, so she specifically asks her best friend, Jasmine Joyner, to take care of me. But during our first meeting, Jasmine's gaze never leaves my crotch. After my graduation, I lead a double life. During daytime, Jasmine is my boss. At night, I'm her bed partner. Throughout our four-year secret relationship, I'm slowly molded into the lover Jasmine likes the most. Four years later, Jasmine's ex-fiance, Ethan Sawyer, has returned to the country. She quickly jumps out of bed and hurries to the airport in order to pick him up. I endure my physical discomfort the best I can as I follow her to the airport. An hour ago, Jasmine's soft body is entangled with mine. But now, she allows another man to embrace her right in front of my eyes. "Marcel Gibson, you climbed into my bed and took advantage of my intoxication four years ago. You're being unreasonable right now, and it's really getting old." The way Jasmine gazes at Ethan is very tender. The way she looks at me while mocking me is also awfully serious. I also think that things between us are getting old as well, so I text Yvonne and tell her to accept the Roberts family's marriage proposal on my behalf. Then, I look up at Jasmine with a smile. "Okay. Goodbye, then."

In the suffocating shadows of forbidden lust, Twisted Obsession unfolds a relentless, soul-corrupting saga of total surrender. This is not romance. This is raw, merciless depravity — where innocence is shattered and remade into a willing vessel of endless pleasure. Follow Lila Voss, a young woman who returns home only to be claimed by her possessive stepfather, Marcus. What begins as a single night of brutal passion spirals into decades of complete sexual enslavement. Marcus and his stepson Damien systematically break her — stretching every hole, pushing her body and mind past every limit, and turning her into their perfect, cum-drenched fucktoy. From the family manor to secret clubs, private islands, and massive gatherings, Lila is used by hundreds upon hundreds of men. She is fucked in every position, every hole, often pregnant and leaking, her body worshipped and ruined in increasingly extreme rituals. Expect visceral sensory overload: the wet, obscene squelch of massive cocks stretching her tight cunt and ass, the burning sting of rough hands and slaps on flushed skin, the salty-bitter taste of endless loads coating her tongue, the sharp scent of sweat, cum, and warm milk, and the helpless screams that dissolve into guttural, shameless moans of ecstasy. This 347-chapter collection is soaked in taboo filth — incest, breeding, gang use, public humiliation, rough anal, squirting, degradation, and relentless double penetration. No gentle moments. No escape. Only savage, addictive fucking that leaves Lila — and the reader — panting, dripping, and craving more. Extreme 18+ Warning: Non-con/dub-con, heavy degradation, breeding, blasphemy, pain play, gangbangs, and orgasms so intense they may ruin you for anything milder. It will stain your soul and makes your body throb with shameful need… Once in, there is no escaping your own cravings…

On the eve of my wedding, the drug effects of the sleeping pills have faded away. That's how I find myself waking up amid the rambunctious laughter in the master suite of the estate. As soon as I open my eyes, I see my luxurious custom-fitted wedding gown being shredded into pieces by Trevor Gibson's female best friend, Sophia Lynch. She toys with the scissors as she jokes around in front of her phone, where a livestream is ongoing. "Helena is no lady of the house! At the end of the day, I can still manipulate her as though she were a maggot!" Trevor's friends agree with her loudly. "Trevor was the one who laced her milk with sleeping pills, to begin with. Anyone else would've slept like a log!" The comment section is filled with mocking comments directed at me. Meanwhile, Trevor just pats Sophia on the head dotingly. "You must be done venting your anger by now, right? Be a good girl and turn off the livestream. If Helena wakes up and kicks up a fuss, it'll be difficult for tomorrow's wedding to proceed." Once everyone leaves the master suite, Trevor sits by the bed and tucks me in. "Sophia mustn't get triggered at all due to her depression. I'll only deal with you later. Anyway, I've already arranged for a plane to fly in a new wedding gown for you as we speak. Honestly speaking, that gown fits you even more." I can only grip the covers quietly. Then, I fire a text at Jordan Scott. "I'm not going to get married now. Are you still sticking to that promise you gave me back then?"

18+[Mature content] “Listen to you,” he murmurs against my ear, two fingers slipping through my folds without entering, just spreading the wetness up to my clit and circling slow. “Soaked for me. You’ve been like this all day, haven’t you? I whimper, pushing back against him, feeling the thick, length of him hot against my ass. He chuckles, dark and wicked. “Greedy girl you want your step-uncle’s cock again?” “Yes,” I gasp. “Please—” He pulls his fingers away and I cry out at the loss, but then he’s gripping my hips, tilting me just right, and sliding into me in one slow, relentless push. “Fuck, Mabel,” he groans. “This pussy was made for me.”Then he starts moving hard, filthy strokes that shove me up the mattress, the tie around my wrists pulling tight. “Come on my cock,” he growls. “Show me how much you love being fucked by the one man you’re never supposed to want.” I screamed whiles he keeps pounding through it, snarling filthy praise in my ear. “That’s it milk me, baby… gonna fill you up again so you feel me every time you sit down tomorrow…” He slams deep one last time and comes with my name on his tongue, pulsing hot inside me until it’s dripping down my thighs. He unties me slowly, pulls off the blindfold and kisses me soft and deep while I’m still shaking around him. ** After her boyfriend dumped her, calling her a “buzzkill” in bed, her best friend swore by a new doctor in town (turns out he’s the step-uncle she barely remembers, and everything changes).

Who would expect a story titled ANTIMAGIC to be about wizards, mystical creatures and fantastic, unusual adventures? Yet, it really is ... It's even more than that. You'll see if you read the story, that there is, beside all this, a spell, mightier than the strongest spells ever, even than Abracadabra. Yes, Antimagic is the most powerful magic of all known and unknown in the wizards' world, because it's a spell that can stop any magic, no matter how powerful it is. The narrative in Antimagic story will succeed not only in helping the children's minds to imagine fantasy worlds or to create their own stories with fairies, princesses, famous wizards or knights, because they already know how to do it, but it will develop even more their thinking and desire to KNOW. Reading this book they'll see and understand what all wizard students got after their decision to study magic at the famous and old Elmbridge School of Magic. What they all got is that they'll become skilled and wise wizards and magicians only through study and long and painstaking search for knowledge. And even more than that, this book will help grown-ups too to remember to dream again, because we, grown-ups, kind of forgot to do that. Therefore, dear readers, young or grown-ups, enjoy the lines of this book and discover with Elizabeth Catherine Edwards and her friends the mysteries of magic. Go through wonderful events with the heroes of this book, more or less unusual, strange. Swim with her friends in the mysterious waters of the Purple Oasis. Run with them from the dangers that are all over the Ancient Forest and into the maze beneath Elmbridge School of Magic. Admire together imposing creatures such as ogres, carticors, fantastic hybrid mole-elephant-badgers, lycanthropes and many others interesting as well.

Merida was a certified black sheep of the family. She loves to hear her grandmother's story about fairies, dragons, pirates and princesses and her favorite was the tale about the legendary pirate named Escarial, and a Princess called Athalia. Listening to her grandma’s folktales was her routine all throughout her eighteen years of existence. That’s why when her grandmother died without having at least a last talk with her, she turned badly depressed. She didn’t go to school at all, and just stayed in her grandmother’s room to lock herself away from the rest of the world. Three days after her grandmother’s funeral, strange things happened in her room. The painting her old woman often gazed on suddenly moved and glowed. She succumbed to it, helpless, and had nothing to do to save herself because of the force that was beyond overwhelming. The next thing she knew, she was in North Sonnenfield. What’s more shocking to her was the name she’s called as by her servants; Princess Athalia—the heir of the throne, and the only daughter of King Eldar of North Sonnenfield. She was in awe, because she remembered that King Eldar was the character in the story. The palace where she found herself lost was the same place where the brave princess who ventured the dangerous sea had lived. She loves being in a Sonnenfield. However, she knew to herself that the day will come when she would wake up from a dream. But life always has a twist because Captain Escarial came to the scene. She expects that he will be gentleman just like pirate captain in the book. But to her horror, this Captain Escarial is snobbish, rude and proud. Oh, how she hates him!

The Milford Vineyards of west Kentucky are beautiful and lined with row after row of lush grape vines. As Willa drove past them she thought back to her childhood days spent with her best friend Kaysea Milford running down the grape laden rows. Today Kaysea's family was throwing a wine tasting party to celebrate the launch of their newest red wine. It was sure to make a grand mark amongst the nation's red wines. After college Willa and Kaysea both went back home to join their family's prospective businesses. Neither of them were lacking for anything as both family's were very well off. Willa's family owned a large dairy farm just to the east of where the Milford's land was situated. The Stockholm Farm spanned thousands of acres and many grocery stores in the state as well as others in the country were being supplied with filtered milk from their dairy. Two generations of the Stockholm family had been working the dairy farm and making the business a billion dollar entity. The day Willa went to the Milford's wine tasting party she encountered Grey Langly. The real-estate tycoon from Frankfort who was an architect by trade. She accidentally bumped into him while carrying a glass of red wine in her hand and spilled the contents down the front of her dress. "Oh my!" "Pardon me miss" exclaimed Grey! "Let me get you something to wipe up that mess." When Willa locked eyes with Grey she instantly fell silent and couldn't speak. His dark eyes and handsome face rendered her speechless. She couldn't move and her heart raced. "Are you ok?" Grey asked. Kaysea immediately walked over to rescue Willa from the embarrassing situation. Grey, let me introduce you to my best friend Willa Stockholm.

My husband, the Don, never acknowledged me as anything more than his political bride. From the day we married, I knew there was someone else in his heart, a woman from the slums named Elena. But for the sake of my family's honor, and for that small, pathetic scrap of love I still held onto, I endured everything in silence. Until two months ago. He came home drunk and reckless and lost all control. He kicked open my bedroom door and took me like a man possessed, and the whole time, the name he breathed into my ear wasn't mine. It was hers. But that night left something behind. I was pregnant. I thought maybe this child could be the thing that finally turned us around. So I walked to his study door, pregnancy report in hand, heart full of something dangerously close to hope. That's when I heard his voice through the door, soft and tender, speaking in a tone I had never once heard him use with me. "Don't worry, Elena. Once you have the baby, I'll bring him into the family personally. He'll be the only heir I recognize. As for Jessica..." His voice turned cold and contemptuous. "She'll never have children. For the past seven years, I've had someone slip the highest dose of birth control into the warm milk she drinks every night before bed. She's nothing but a political arrangement. Why would I let her carry my bloodline?" The door opened. He stepped out and saw me standing there, frozen. He assumed I'd do what I always did, scream and cry and demand answers. He had no idea this time was different. This time, I was really leaving.

I paid Curtis Robinett 200 thousand dollars a month to be a standby blood donor. My fiancée, Eden May, thought it was a waste of money. So she reassigned him to work part-time as her personal assistant instead. When Curtis accidentally submitted my marriage license appointment as a divorce filing for the 99th time, I kicked open Eden's office door. She didn't even look up. "We're in no rush to get married anyway," she said calmly. "Curtis is just careless. That's how he's always been." Later, in the emergency room, I called Eden while doctors rushed around me, my throat shredded from yelling. "Where's my emergency medical kit?" I rasped. "What did you do with it?" Curtis answered instead, his voice warm and smug. "You mean the expensive leather bag you kept in the cabinet? I swapped it out for a large party snack box. It holds everything just fine, and honestly, it looks a lot more cheerful. "Ms. May's brother and sister-in-law are both career soldiers. Your bag didn't really match that image, so I thought this would be more appropriate." My vision dimmed. My hands shook as I told Curtis to come donate blood. Eden laughed softly and cut in, "Stop pretending you're anemic just to get attention. If you're actually sick, deal with it. You're at the hospital; I think the doctors are fully capable of keeping you alive. Curtis is afraid of needles. He's not coming." Then, she hung up. She didn't appear until the surgical lights finally went dark. "Curtis had me bring you chocolate milk," she said. "It's good for recovery. It's not that he didn't want to help. He just faints at the sight of blood." She placed a settlement waiver on my bed. "I was the one who told him not to come. That 200-thousand-dollar monthly salary is his pay as my assistant. It has nothing to do with you. You didn't have to call the police for that. Sign this, and I'll go get the marriage license with you." I thought of what I had just seen in the operating room. Eden's brother, Harvey May, was bleeding out on the operating table, waiting for a lifesaving drug that never came. In the final moments of surgery, he could do nothing but lie there and die. I looked at her and said evenly, "You're the immediate family. It's not my place to sign that."

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”