Post Orgasm Torture Gif

In the third year of my marriage, I endure a full day of painful labor to give birth to my first child. However, my husband steals the baby to give to his true love. I try my damnedest to stop him, but all I get is a barrage of insults. "It's just a baby! I'm the one who planted the seed, so I get to decide who gets the fruit!" I'm overwhelmed by grief as I watch my husband leave. However, he shares a happy post on his social media. "Mother and daughter are safe." His true love comments, "Thank you for giving me a child, Jaspie. I'll be the happiest woman in the world with you two by my side." Clueless friends bless them and wish them well. I silently comment, "Give me back my child." All I get is another round of insults. Then, I'm blocked. I don't want to endure this anymore. I hire a lawyer to draft divorce papers before making a police report. "Officer, I want to report my husband for child trafficking."

I double over in pain after assisting Adrian Randall with a late-night operation. He immediately carries me to a ward to check on me. However, before he can do that, he receives a call from a patient and hurries off. That night, I miscarry. When I come out of the operating theater, I see his childhood friend's social media update. She's shared a photo of her baby bump. "He hurried to come to my side just because I was lost. You have to treat Adrian well in the future, my darling!" I rub my belly, which throbs with a dull ache. I don't cry and demand an explanation from Adrian as I would have in the past. Instead, I like the post and apply for a position on the Borderless Medical Assistance Program. The day I leave, the high and mighty Dr. Randall looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. He asks, "How can you bear to leave me behind?"

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]

After the kidnapping incident, seventeen (17) year old “STILES,” lost his memories. The memory loss He had wasn't a sweet romantic dream, but an horrible nightmare. The torture he received from his kidnappers warped his brain and made him a psycho, a freak; a “MANIAC”. He was agitated by almost everyone and everything. He could hardly control his emotions. Stiles was like a volcano, ready to erupt at anytime. Just a little trigger, boom! he'll explode. Releasing tons of cusswords, striking out at anyone who loved him. He couldn't help it. His fleeting thoughts were tormentors, a torture He could hardly escape. He lived in hate and anger. He never wanted to be that way. Deep down his guts He simply wanted to be kind to everyone. He had a loving heart. He could still take the right choice, but his brain, was a tormentor. When ever it is triggered He loses self control. He is doing the actions, but deep his guts, He wanted it all to stop. but He just couldn't. As time went on. Poor old Stiles discovered he had telepathic and telekinetic abilities. Gradually he also regained his lost memories. He fully regained his “MEMORIES” the day he came face to face with the leader of his Kidnappers, the heartless punk who transformed poor old stiles into a “MANIAC.” Stiles wanted to take revenge on the Devil incarnate. But frustration hits Stiles when he discovers that the man who made his life a living hell was no other person but the father of his Girlfriend. “LOVER” So what is Stiles gonna do? Go ahead and his take revenge on his kidnapper, or just let the old dog lie.

It was my 30th birthday, and my husband said he had a surprise for me. However, on the day of my birthday, he was nowhere to be found. I called him countless times, but no one answered. Just as I was about to panic and consider calling the police, I happened to see a post on the social media feed of his female secretary. “A typhoon hit, and my boss was worried about my safety, so he personally took me home. How wonderful! I’ve got a guardian angel for myself!” My anxiety turned to cold calm in an instant. I commented on her post: “Traveling during a typhoon is dangerous. Tell him he doesn’t need to come back.” Not long after I posted the comment, my husband called. “Kelly, I was only concerned about the safety of my subordinate, and yet you’re thinking such vile thoughts. “Birthdays come every year. Missing one won’t kill you!” You were right. Birthdays came every year. But there was no way I would celebrate them with you.

Alpha Draven is known as the Alpha of war. When he is called away, his guards beat, rape, and torture a scared she-wolf. When he returns and finds his guards have whipped her almost to death, he realizes she is his mate. After learning she had been beaten and tortured in his prison, he knows he will give up anything to protect her. Aura is a broken wolf. Her life hasn't been the same since her mother passed away. She stopped speaking when her father began drinking. She has been abandoned by those she trusted. After being beaten, raped, and tortured, can she find herself and be the Luna he needs? What are the strange lights coming from her hands? Why are her eyes different colors? When things start going wrong, will she be the Luna the pack needs? Or will fear destroy her once again?

The day of the verdict, Simon—my fiancé—begged me to take the deal. "I know you're innocent, but Nancy's pregnant. I can't let her go to jail." Tears. Fake concern. "This is for your own good," he said, holding my hand. I signed it. In my last life, I refused—and paid for it with prison, torture, and infertility. This time? I played along. By morning, headlines screamed I'd stolen trade secrets. Nancy? Front and center. "Yeah, it was her. I saw her sneak into Johnston Group with my own eyes!" But when court opened that afternoon, Clark—yes, the plaintiff—stepped up and dropped the case. Then, in front of everyone, he pulled out a ring, dropped to one knee, and said, "Heidi Wynn, this time... will you marry me?"

Imagine being kidnapped; being held hostage; being threatened with hunger and violence; surviving with unknown people. Imagine finding a connection, finding love in that oh so terrible prison. Imagine being loved by that love. Imagine being lost, torn away from that love; slapped back to the reality of your fate. Imagine being tortured; the pain not mostly from your own torture, but from the knowledge that the love was somewhere else, somewhere close but far; also being tortured. Imagine your whole life being questioned, threatened to be a lie. Imagine that love being questioned. Imagine being alone. Imagine Love In Bondage.

On New Year's Eve, Facebook blew up. The reason was that Bennett Miles, the golden boy of Crestmoor’s elite, posted an update. In the photo, a shy young woman hid her face as she leaned against his shoulder while he grinned. His eyes were full of affection and mischief. His caption read, "What do I do? Looks like I'm officially taken." Friends in his circle flooded the comment section with congratulations. The real frenzy began when Bennett announced that the first 10,000 followers to like, share, and comment on the post would each receive a gold bar. The internet went wild with envy and curiosity. Everyone scrambled to find out more about the woman in the picture. Then, someone claiming to have inside information started a livestream. "Stop guessing. Her name is Kara Sierra. You know Sierra Hall at Crestmoor College? That building was named after her! "Two years ago, she had kidney failure. Bennett personally donated one of his own kidneys to save her!"

When my boyfriend invited me to the school rooftop to watch the fireworks, I went with excitement and anticipation. But what awaited me was a nightmare—a group of thugs ready to destroy me. They tore my clothes off, burned me with cigarettes, and used various objects to torture me. My boyfriend stood there, casually recording everything with his phone. He sneered, "Melanie, this is what you owe Sofia. You'll spend your entire life paying for what happened to her." It turned out he never truly loved me. The time we spent together was all part of his twisted plan for revenge, a plan crafted for his sister. Later, standing by the ocean, I called him. Through tears, I asked, "Will giving my life atone for what happened to your sister?"