Scary Stuffed Animals Novels & Stories

Esther Joan is a promising ballet dancer, she is also a lady of a noble family. However, her life was unhappy when her family members hated and rejected her. When Esther got drunk, she had a one-night stand with the most powerful and scary man - Dominic Arnold. Esther doesn't know that she is Dominic's fiancée and they have been engaged since childhood. Esther's troubles at Malibu Academic grow worse, and even Esther's ex-boyfriend cheats on her. The whole Joan family is targeting Esther and wants to usurp the inheritance that Joan's great-grandfather left to Esther. Suddenly, Dominic Arnold made another proposal to Esther: By day, you will be my fiancée, and by night you will be my slutty mistress. What does Esther have to do to get rid of these dilemmas? The mysterious identity of Dominic Arnold and the secret death of Joan's great-grandfather are related? How will the love story between Dominic and Esther continue?

WARNINGS; This book is a collection of deep erotic scenes, slavery, crimes, abuse, brutality and so on. Read at your own risk.(18+) She was saved by him but she knew another hell in his hands for some reasons unknown to her...Well not until she gave birth to two cuties likewise he fell in love with them. Prologue Enzo Emilio is a scary mafia lord who is bent on destroying the man who killed his elder brother. He is ruthless but became more heart hardened when his brother died in his arms. In rage, he attacked the rival group and destroyed his ranch, he took his slaves and all that belonged to him for himself and that was when he met her, Madison, the girl who he saved but enslaved. He made her past through hell since she was the person who shot his brother to death at her former master's command.

"Manager, it's her! I saw it with my own eyes! She stuffed that limited-edition necklace from the display case right into her clothes!” The weekend mall was packed. Out of nowhere, a woman with that perfectly curated influencer look blocked my path and started yelling at the top of her lungs. The crowd waiting in line for coffee instantly froze and turned to stare. I blinked, caught off guard, and was just about to say something. But she didn't give me a chance. She lunged forward and yanked hard at my work jacket. A few brand-new gold necklaces, still with their tags on, hit the marble floor. "Oh my God, you guys! The evidence is right there! Someone call the cops and get this woman arrested—ruin her life, send her straight to prison!” People whipped out their phones to record. A couple of young guys even rolled up their sleeves, ready to play hero. I looked down at the gold chains on the floor, then patted my pocket—where my plainclothes loss-prevention officer badge was sitting—and let out a dry, incredulous laugh. This was the exact stash of stolen goods I'd confiscated just five minutes ago from a trash can in the women's restroom during an ongoing theft bust. So how did she—a random shopper—know exactly where the evidence was on me? And more than that, how did she manage to track me down and block my route to the security office with mall management in tow, all within a single minute?

If there’s one thing I know to be certain in life, it’s to expect the unexpected. I never expected to become a teen mom or have to flee a toxic relationship years later. And I certainly never expected to go head-to-head with Jacob Harris, doctor of veterinary medicine, to prove I’m worthy of running the struggling rescue full of misfit animals I suddenly inherited. Jacob is as smug as he is good looking, and I refuse to let that cocky grin or sharp jawline distract me. I won’t go down without a fight, and this time, it’ll be easy to stand my ground when my opponent is someone I can’t stand—even though my body reacts whenever he’s around. This time I’m not backing down no matter how much he gets under my skin. But the more I push, the more he pulls..until I don’t know what I’m more at a risk of losing: the rescue or my heart.

“Fuuuck—ahh!” I gasped, my voice cracking. “That’s it,” he groaned, one hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. “Tight little pussy taking my cock so greedily. You were made for this, weren’t you?” *** On campus, she is that timid nerd nobody notices, Oversized hoodies, black-rimmed glasses, quiet enough to fade into the background. Even when facing the notoriously strict Professor Elliott, she would only lower her head, and mutter incorrect phrases. But at night, she became the most intoxicating dancer in the club. She wrapped herself around the pole, bent low, whining her hips, each movement drove men below into a frenzy. Bills were stuffed into the strap around her thigh, eyes couldn’t help but notice her. To cover her mother’s medical bills and to escape poverty, she takes a private party offering an equally obscene payout. The light swept across his face— *** “Don't fight it. I am going to pay you ten times what they pay you here for the rest of the night,” he said with a low voice “If you let me fuck you.” Ten times. *** She knew it was wrong. This was her professor. Her best friend's uncle. The man whose house she’d visited years ago when they were trying to get into UAC. She wasn’t going to do this, never, besides, money couldn't buy her dignity, or could it?

The boy, George Larson, whom I once saved as a child, when he was struggling with asthma, repaid my kindness by imprisoning me for seven long years. "Luna, you're my everything. I won’t let you out of my sight," he said, his voice filled with obsession. He tied my hands and feet, keeping me bound to the bed like a helpless doll, but I did not love him; I wanted to escape. In his madness, he set fire to my family’s ancestral home. The last traces of the Sachs burned to ashes, disappearing into the wind. He said that since my home was gone, I could just live with him and that it would be my new home. However, because I refused to let him touch me, he found someone else—a girl with a beauty mark under her eye, just like mine. The girl, drunk on his affection, thought I was trying to imitate her by faking the same tear-shaped mark. In a fit of jealousy, she gouged out my eyes. My face was covered with tiny, bleeding holes, blood streaming down my body. When George came home, the girl gleefully stuffed me into a trash bag, proud of her handiwork. “George, look! I caught some trash that broke into the house!” George did not even glance at me. He just loosened his tie, his voice calm and detached. “Just toss it where trash belongs.”

On the first day of summer break, my husband, Alfred Manning, cancels the family trip I have booked again. He reasons that his childhood sweetheart, Edna Moore, has just gotten divorced. She needs a trip to Flordale with her son to clear their heads. Alfred finds her pitiful, so that is how the trip my daughter, Bella Manning, has spent two semesters earning with her gold stars turns into another child's vacation. Hugging her stuffed animal, Bella looks up at me with tear-filled eyes and asks, "Is Daddy not coming again?" The word "again" makes my heart throb in pain. Alfred wires some money into my account and sends a soothing voice note. "Just take Bella to a local park or something. She's just a kid, so it's the same to her no matter where she goes." Meanwhile, Edna posts a photo on X, showing Alfred cradling her son in his arms. "You don't need a biological bond to be the best dad in the world." It hits me then that Bella and I are the only ones working hard to protect this family. That night, I change our family passes into two one-way tickets that are bound for the new city where I'm relocated for work. "What about Daddy's pass?" I tear the canceled boarding pass into shreds. "He has already made his choice."

After getting drugged by her best friend at a party, Amelia ends up having a one night stand with a stranger. That stranger turned out to be Liam Grayson the ruthless, arrogant and most successful CEO in their country. "it was just a stand think of it as a gift from me to you" Liam pointed out and in the next second Amelia grabbed his index finger that was pointing at her. "it might be a stand but not all girls are dying to be on your bed especially not me" Amelia replied through gritted teeth. Liam caught hold of her neck "I can be scary, don't try to act special, I will compensate you for your loss" he muttered as he stared at the red stain on the bed sheet. Amelia met his eyes "well I'm not scared of you Mr. arrogant" she pulled his hand off her neck and left the room. Liam narrowed his eyes at her retreating back, that was new no one ever spoke back to him instead they cower back in fear.

In my past life, my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart, Kimberly Thatcher, claimed to be Lady Luck. She insisted on handing out sachets to keep our team safe for a hike. I, Priscilla Jensen, caught the scent and realized the sachets were stuffed with herbs that would attract wolves. So, I stepped in to stop her, saving everyone from an attack. But Kimberly thought I was looking down on her sachets, and that I was targeting her on purpose. Though she was the leader, she stormed off from the group in anger. We searched the forest under the raging storm. In the end, someone broke a leg, someone else was strangled by poisonous vines, and my shoulder was torn open. By dawn, we found Kimberly's corpse at the bottom of a valley. … On the seventh day after her death, her memorial service became an ambush. While everyone mourned for her, their eyes were fixed on me. My boyfriend, Fabian Lowell, was the first to lash out. He ripped off his bandage, revealing his wound. "If you hadn't stopped Kimberly from giving us those sachets, none of this would have happened! How dare you show up to her memorial service?" he yelled. Everyone turned to glare daggers at me. Suddenly, someone shouted, "It's all your fault! You're the reason we ended up like this! Go to hell!" In the next second, they hurled a pot of boiling stew at me. Then they set the private room ablaze and burned me alive. … When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day of the hike.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.