Nasty Brutish And Short Novels & Stories

“Fuck me as you hate me...make it hurt...” He gave it to her. Brutal, deep thrusts that forced the air out of her lungs. Her tits bounced wildly. Her pussy made wet, filthy sounds every time he buried himself to the hilt. “Cream on it...” Marcus ordered, voice rough. “Soak my cock...show me how much of a slut you are for your best friend’s dad...” “I’m close...fuck...I’m so close...” Nina whimpered, eyes rolling back. “Don’t stop...please don’t stop...ruin me...”

Still, lifting her chin proudly, the brunette stepped right up to the guard, studying him from close range. “You know, it’s better to be an old virgin than a cheap slut who fucks anything that’s warm,” the brunette stared straight into the man’s eyes, unblinking, as if looking into his very soul. “You don’t even have standards. You don’t care what’s riding your dick. You’re pathetic. Because you simply can’t handle having standards. What’s it like being someone who takes whatever’s handed to him? Like a dog at a garbage dump. No taste… no principles… whatever’s easy… something you don’t have to fight for… just so it’s there, not because it’s what you actually want…”

We struggle for control of the weapon, both of our hands locked around his wrist as the knife trembles between us like a compass needle seeking magnetic north. Viktor's face contorts with effort and desperation, sweat beading on his forehead as he tries to drive the blade home. His muscles strain against mine, tendons standing out like steel cables under his skin. "Going to gut you like a fish," he grunts through gritted teeth. "Then I'm going to finish what I started with your little whore." The words hit me harder than any fist could. The casual way he refers to Tamara, the promise of violence against her— it unlocks something savage that I've kept chained in the darkest corners of my soul

Heavy slaps rained across my ass and tits, and face, making the clamps bite harder. “Look at your husband,” one commanded, grabbing my hair and forcing my blindfolded face toward Brutus. “Look what you’ve done to him. His wife is a disgusting cumrag for strangers.” I cried and moaned at the same time, shame burning through every part of me even as my body betrayed me with another violent orgasm. I squirted hard around the cocks destroying me, juices splashing onto the floor near Brutus’s feet. They rotated.

(NFTMB) Chapter 91 Alessandro (Green Eyed Monster) Horror. Absolute shock. What is happening to me? Why does everyone get away with deceiving me? I feel useless and as dumb as a bitch. Can I ever get anything right? Why do I always get used by people? I'm a dumb mafia boss. A very dumb mafia boss. Possibly the worst mafia boss in history. With each wave of hatred and self torture, I downed yet another glass of whisky down with great force.

Too soft. She crossed it out with furious lines, grabbed another page, and started again. “Dear Cade, You are the worst kind of neighbor. Lazy, rude, and completely oblivious to other people. If you want to live like a slob, fine. But keep it inside your pigsty of an apartment. Stop stinking up the building for the rest of us.” Better. She tapped her pen against the table, reading the words again. Her anger bubbled hotter. She wasn’t done yet.

“Don’t worry! If anything is broken, we will pay you double. We will not let you suffer any losses.” “Sir, compensation is nothing. I’m just worried about your safety. As the saying goes, no matter how powerful you are, you will never be more powerful than a local tyrant. Brutus and his friends are used to being arrogant and stuck up. They have suffered such a huge loss here and surely won’t give up. You’re going to stay here for one night only anyway so it’s the same if you leave now, don’t you think?”

Huge men, the kind of huge that immediately activates female survival instincts. One has dark hair shaved close on the sides, heavy scars cutting across his mouth and brow. The other is broader, older maybe, thick neck covered in tattoos disappearing beneath a black thermal shirt stretched tight over muscle. Both stare at me openly and neither looks friendly. My pulse kicks hard, adrenaline waiting to see if I choose fight or flight. Fuck them. Frankie Bell did not survive retail customers and shitty landlords by cowering. I lift an eyebrow. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer, pervs.”

"Clumsy me. My feet seem to have a will of their own where strays are concerned." That’s it. Something snaps inside me, a wire strung too tight, and I am there, the chair squeaking on the stone like a wounded animal, ale spilling from my hair and face, my entire body convulsing with an anger so absolute that it is all I am. “Touch me again,” I hiss, the utterance tearing from the depth of my stomach, “and the other hand will be your eating hand for a good whole month.” Mara, a woman with a thin face, leans over another table, her eyes sparkling with unpleasant satisfaction. “Oh, she’s got claws,” she says. “What are you going to do, pet? Crawl to the high table and cry to the Alpha?”

Lucian If the devil was incarnated, it would be me. There was no one more deadlier than me... Well, my father was deadlier than me before he died. I'm way different from my father now that I've grew in so many ways. My name is Lucian Van Othello, the ruthless and cruel Alpha of the Black Blood Pack. I'm hot, handsome, sexy and has what all girls love the most, a huge dick for them to ride.