Post Orgasm Torture Stories

My secretary replaced me on my wedding day, walking down the aisle in a white wedding gown. The man I had loved for ten years threw the bridesmaid dress in my face and ordered me to wear it instead. "She is the bride now. You'll be next," he said coldly. My grandmother was so furious that she fell ill on the spot. Meanwhile, he and the secretary smiled brightly as they completed the wedding ceremony. After the grand wedding, the secretary posted photos of herself in her wedding gown on social media. The comments were overwhelmingly congratulatory. [Today is such a beautiful day, I finally got what I wanted. I hope those who try to ruin someone else's relationship will wake up soon.] She wrote. Chester Morrison replied to her post: [It is a great day. Don't ruin your good mood by some trash.] When I returned home, holding my grandmother's photo, who had passed away, I found them tangled together on the bedspread my grandmother had lovingly sewn for me, the one with a pair of Swan that symbolizes eternal love.

“Ah!” I moan, tilting my head to the side as his lips find the sweet spot on my neck. My hands move to his chest, and I undo his buttons with haste while his lips devour mine like it’s their favorite meal, our tongues wrestling for control. I chuck the shirt aside but gasp in surprise when he suddenly pushes me against the wall before resuming his sweet torture on my neck. “You smell so good,” he growls against my ear, his voice sounding inhumane and I don’t know how he did that, but it covers my body in goosebumps. I shiver, moaning loudly while tilting my head to the side to grant him more access and when I look into his eyes, I can almost swear I saw the white disappear, causing me to blink rapidly, my brain turning to mush. "Mm!" I grip his pants, my breathing uneven as his left hand slowly travels past my stomach and slips between my thighs before rubbing circles on top of my last piece of clothing. I become a moaning, trembling, horny mess, desperate for a release, as I sink my nails into his thighs, poking holes in his pants before my body convulses and I come undone. ..... Evaki becomes the first human to be mated to a royal and a Lycan. Despite her newfound status, she faces persistent discrimination and prejudice from those who see her as weak and a disgrace to the royal family. The newly crowned queen is determined to prove herself and win their approval. But what happens when she's dealt yet another blow and her mate is forced to take another, adding to Evaki's struggles as she fights to gain acceptance and prove her worth in a society that sees her as inferior?

The novel is mainly about the forgotten British poet/writer named C. J Richards who lived in Burma/Myanmar in colonial times and he believed himself as a Burmophile. He served as I.C.S (Indian Civil Servant) and when he retired from I.C.S service, he was a D.C (District Commissioner) and he left for England a year before Burma gained its independence in 1948. He came to Burma in 1920 to work in civil service after passing the hardest I.C.S examination. He wrote several books on Burma and contributed many monthly articles to Guardian Magazine published in Burma from 1953 to 1974 or 1975. Though he wrote several books which had much literary merit to both communities, Britain and Burma (Myanmar), people failed to recognize him. The story has two parts: one part is set in the contemporary Yangon (then called Rangoon) in 2016 context and a young literary enthusiast named “Lin” found out unexpectedly the forgotten writer’s poetry book and there is surely a good deal of time gap that led him into a quest to know more about the author’s life. The setting is quite different comparing to colonial Burma and independence Myanmar (Burma), early twentieth century and 2016 which is a transitional period in Myanmar. The writer’s life is fictionalized in the novel and most of the facts are taken from his personal stories and other reference books. It is a kind of historical novel with a twist and it has comparatively constructed the two different periods in Myanmar history to convince readers, locally and abroad more about history, authorship, humanity, colonialism, and transitional development in Myanmar today.

I was six months pregnant when my husband, Michael Greene, shoved me off the edge of a yacht during a birthday party. Why? Because Lily Clement, his childhood sweetheart, had fallen into the water, and apparently, the yacht was too small for all three of us. After being pulled from the ocean, suffering from hypothermia and shock, I was taken to the hospital. Doctors determined that emergency surgery was necessary and required a family member's consent. However, no matter how many times they called, Michael never picked up. At the same time, lying in a hospital bed, I scrolled through Lily’s Instagram and saw the post she shared just hours earlier. It was a photo of the two of them, soaked but clinging to each other like lovers out of a movie. "Sometimes love comes from the most unexpected places. Thank you for always being there for me—quietly, selflessly, unshakably." That was all I needed. The day I was discharged, I left Michael a signed divorce agreement. If he wanted to be her knight in shining armor, I’d let him.

I'm diagnosed with late-stage cancer after undergoing a pre-employment medical checkup. My husband says the medication for my condition is expensive. He also says it can only relieve my pain, not treat the cause. I only have a year to live. Upon my husband's pleading, I agree to do an IVF. I endure the pain and put myself through torture to leave him with a child. However, I overhear him saying the child growing inside me isn't mine—it's his and his lover's. He's the one who wants me dead!

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?"

Her name was Vitatrix, the first empress of Rome. You won't see her in any of the history books, or hear her name in any ballad or song. She isn't even mentioned in myth or legend. Her mark on mankind was erased, because she was a woman. Long ago Rome's emperor died with out a son. His cousin, a roman senator ascended to the throne with out a legitimate heir, or so everyone thought. Fear started to grip the citizens of Rome as new threats rose from every corner of the empire. In the city of Clusium, a daughter that was born to the new roman emperor, hidden by his wife. All of this to protect her from the possible rage and discrimination from her own family. All because she was born a girl. In a world where men rule, can this sole female heir secure her rightful place? Or will her gender pull her down? Raised by the midwife that helped bring her into the world, a young Trix finds out who she truly is. She must return to a family she has never known and save the Roman Empire from anarchy. She must fight a corrupt senator, a secret society, and her own fears of the future. Together with her best friend, Hector, she will learn that not everyone can be trusted. Not all stories have a happy ever after. Will this one?

“Do you intend to replace her?” I shook my head frantically. I didn’t care how much he loved her. I wasn’t her, and I didn’t want to be involved with a vampire… “P-Please, h-have mercy, I—” “You’re being so sweet tonight,” he said, his voice husky. “Usually, you would have swatted my hands away… Have you missed me so much?” He was insane. He had to be. I had never met him before in my life, yet he was gliding his hands all over me, taking a firm hold of my breast like some horny teenager and licking my neck as if I would get in the mood. ******* Trinity is a 21 -year -old human, and a psychologist. She had a whole life, a boyfriend, parents, and an enviable job. Until she was kidnapped from the human world by a vampire... In her past life, she has never seen a vampire, she fears and begs him to let her go home. Lucianus, a ruthless, arrogant vampire nobleman. Even as a vampire king, centuries ago his wife was killed by humans. He hates humans, but when he met Trinity, he took her back to the castle and regards Trinity as his own blood slave due to the same appearance as his wife. But what would happen if Trinity was not the vampire's wife? Will Lucianus let Trinity leave or torture her?

ღ꧁ღ╭⊱ꕥ Maria Isabel Monedero fantasized about being like Shakespeare. She devoted her all life to writing romance tragedy stories. She joined many writing competitions but never won. She almost gives up her spirit, but her bubbly personality doesn’t. Until the day she graduated college. Then, Maria Isabel Monedero, known as Mimo as her pseudo name, joined Story & Life publishing incorporation to work as a creative novelist. She got admitted, and many editors demanded that she be in their lineup. Unfortunately, before she gets to designate a team, she must undergo provision training within six months. Then, finally, the publisher assigns her a personal editor named Jaime Tejedor, who claims to be a hopeless romantic. He dislikes tragedy romance stories, which is Mimo’s best field in writing. He rejected Mimo’s works twice, and she only has the last chance to stick around. If she ever gets rejected again, it’s the edge of her career. For her to evade that… She plots to seduce her editor to approve her work. Will she succeed? Or fall entirely to his charm? ꕥ⊱╮ღ꧂ღ

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."