Psycho Novels & Stories

War is the hardest hours to fall in love in any humans life. Sora is a Japanese immigrant who falls in love with a foreigner, Jon. He leaves his country home but his love life is cut short when Jon dies serving his country and worst, Sora is pregnant.Sora has given up all hope to find love so he focuses on his family which includes his mother-in-law and his son.He has yet another package coming when a man of the hour, pops into his life and changes his way of living.Will Sora get the happiness he deserves or will fate keep playing games with him?

I imagined doing this in front of my three bosses. I pictured their eyes on me while I touched myself, whispering filthy things I’d never dared say out loud. “Watch me… please… I’m so wet for you… my pussy throbs for your cocks.” The fantasy made the vibrations feel even stronger. The pleasure built fast, and sweetly. It was overwhelming, until it crested and crashed over me. My body shook with the force of it, a broken moan tearing from my throat as wave after wave rolled through me. It was one of the sweetest, most intense feelings I had ever experienced.

I wasn’t leaving exactly, but I just wanted him to feel the hotness and give me what I wanted. “Wait!” It worked. I turned back to him slowly putting him a feigned expression. “Have your seat.” He said and I did so, waiting for him to proceed. He pulled out some files from his drawer and dropped it in my front. “The prince was diagnosed with Post-traumatic stress disorder years ago, and he had been under treatment since then, but not full treatment because he can’t be admitted to the hospital.” He continued. “So what has been done about it?” I asked, “also, what are the symptoms of this condition?”

I wrote one entirely unnecessary word on the file in front of me so that I had somewhere to look. “Voices,” he said. “Not words. Somebody shouting about pressure. Somebody telling me not to move — that one I’ve got, because I remember being furious about it.” “Furious?” “Whoever it was kept saying don’t move and I remember thinking I’m not moving, you idiot, I can’t.*” He opened his eyes. “That’s the only complete thought I have from the whole night.” Jax wrote that down. “Male or female?” “No idea.”

He looked too calm, like the chaos he’d caused didn’t matter. He was tall. Clean-shaven. Cold. Older, but in that maddening, dangerous way. The kind that made your heart skip, both in fear and in admiration. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. Then came the words, low and smug. "Pretty doll, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead." That voice was deep and threatening. Oh my God. This man was a psycho. How could he talk about killing someone like it was entertainment, something he did when he was bored?

she said firmly, trying not to stare at his naked chest—look lower, as his smirk always deepened every time her eyes accidentally flickered down. “Sure you don’t,” he murmured, his voice dripping with teasing satisfaction. “That’s why you’re still sitting on the bed and staring at my cock.” She blinked, realizing she hadn’t moved. “Oh, shut up.” He laughed again, deep and low. Mirabella jumped up from the bed, snatching her pillow and throwing it at him. He caught it easily and grinned. “Physcho,” she muttered as she made her way to the door. He propped himself up on one elbow, watching her go. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry, baby.”

That clench in my thighs, the rush in the deepest parts of my belly, was stronger than ever as I stared back, drenched in fear and… something else, something deeper, sinful, that I just couldn’t pick my finger on. My head dropped and I made the sign of the cross. This was sin. I would have to go back soon and do penance. The Lord gave us the spirit of discernment. I knew this was bad and the fact that I felt–Well, I don’t know what I felt–made it all the more vile. The room was silent and I heard the faint sound of pins clattering lazily. “Mrs. West?” The poor lady had dropped the pins and was snoring loudly. Did she just sleep off? Was she alright?

He is my master, I am his slave, his son my lover. Set in a fictional historical world, Grand Duke of Wynthorpe, Lucian Blackwell unexpectedly purchases Sarang, a lunari slave, to serve as a companion for his son, Nathaniel. Overtime, Lucian and Nathaniel develop deep, conflicting emotions for him. While Nathaniel desires to free him, Lucian's secret attachment complicates the relationships between the three. Caught in an intense emotional triangle, Sarang is torn between his loyalty to Lucian and his romance with Nathaniel. As boundaries between servitude and freedom blur, Sarang must navigate a society where love, power, and desire clash.

The calm guy said. I was still in my previous position. Didn’t move a muscle. I wonder what they are going to do next. The bars open, I could tell from the sound. My eyes were closed but I could still sense two shadows standing in front of me. “I can’t believe we caught him alive. I heard a lot about this guy before and he is a fucking psycho.” The calm guy said and the other one sounded even panic. “Hurry! I don’t want to end up like Eric! It could be that he was awake by now.”

Cass emphasized on each word as she burned the cigar all over her face. Katherine was screaming, whimpering and a mess but they kept going. “I really like the sound of her screams, you know.” Gina smiled wickedly. “I know you psycho.” El smirked. “Does this make me an actual psycho?” Gina asked, her eyes wide as saucers. “Well, it depends on how you see it.” Cass shrugged. “I think being a psycho is cute, if this makes me a psycho then I want to be one.” She opened her teeth in a creepy way.