Scary Stuffed Animals Novels & Stories

As the Luna of the pack, I was replaced by a giant Plush Wolf Doll. Every night, Alpha Julian clutched it in his arms and fell asleep. Its voice—manipulated by Alpha pheromones—came out in breathy moans like a woman’s, keeping me awake all night. At our son’s first birthday banquet, I filed for divorce. “Maybe that Plush Wolf Doll is better suited to be your Luna. Let’s get divorced—I’m severing our mate bond.” “You’re jealous… of a stuffed toy? Chloe, have you lost your mind?” Everyone thought I was making a scene for no reason. Julian’s Beta assistant, Harper, was especially agitated. “The little wolf pup just turned one! Are you really going to let him grow up without a mother?” “I’m asking for a divorce, not dropping dead. How could he not have a mother? Or… are you getting so worked up because you want to replace me as my pup’s mother? Or maybe replace the plush toy?” Outside, my friend—and lawyer—Victor was already waiting. “I’ve sent someone to dig into it. The truth you want will be in our hands soon.” “Good. Three days from now, in court—you’ll be my lawyer.” I tapped open a strange video. The giant Plush Wolf Doll walked across the room, opened the fridge, and took a drink. But I remembered perfectly—this toy could only make sounds. It couldn’t move, let alone eat. Three days. That was all I needed to prepare. Then, before the eyes of the entire pack, the truth would have nowhere to hide.

I was just about to drink a soup meant to supplement my pregnancy, a frantic voice suddenly called out. "Mommy, don't drink it! It's an abortion drug. Someone's trying to harm you!" Startled, my hand jerked, and I knocked the soup over. My husband's cousin teared up, her voice choking, "B-But I cooked that soup myself as an apology…" I didn't pay her any heed, only checking the contents of the medicinal soup. There was a large amount of poison in it, enough to not just harm the baby, but even make it impossible for me to ever conceive again! "Mommy, it was me! I protected you!" I caressed my pregnant belly, listening as the child inside told me that he was the incarnation of a lucky star, sent to bring me good fortune. Because of this, we even gave him the nickname Lucky. And sure enough, under his guidance, I helped my husband secure numerous contracts. The whole family was overjoyed. I grew to love him even more, consuming precious supplements as if they were free. Within just three months, my family's assets grew tenfold, while I grew thirty pounds. Just as I stuffed the roast pork into my mouth, I heard a weak, faint voice. "Mom, don't listen to him! He was switched into your womb, and he stole my good luck! "If you continue listening to him, he'll be the death of us both after he's born!" Confused, I stopped eating. Who was I to believe, when there were two voices within my womb?

..."Fucking take my cock like a good little slut." Jenna could only sob and cling to his shoulders as he fucked her into the mattress, too overwhelmed by sensation to do anything else. She could feel Alex behind her, suddenly, rubbing his own sticky cock between her ass cheeks, teasingly. "Please," she whimpered brokenly. "Need you both..." One midnight train ride turned Jenna into a dripping, hole-wrecked mess. A brutal stranger fucked her raw in the aisle until she squirted across the seats. A bathroom quickie left another man’s cum leaking down her thighs. Then the Syndicate came for her. Now she’s collared, caged, and passed between powerful men who stretch every hole past breaking. Electro-clamped nipples, inflating plugs, double-cock DP marathons, throat-fucked until she’s crying cum-bubbles, and public gangbangs while strangers watch and film. She was supposed to escape. Instead, she begs to be filled again… and again… and again. Begging unleashes hell; electro-clamps fry swollen tits to gushing orgasms; inflating plugs stretch pussy/ass to tearing screams; caged like a bitch as Master's paddle cracks welts bloody-red. MMF savagery explodes, where dual cocks grind through her thin walls in DP creampie marathons, throat-bulging face-fucks choke her on twin loads, and every hole is plugged/leaking/stuffed in endless breed-chains. Collaring brands her eternal Syndicate cum-pet, public gangbangs, zap-torture squirts, and piss-soaked submission. Raw, relentless, and hole-ruining ecstasy. Will Jenna escape the Syndicate's cock-collar... or beg to be their forever-drenched fucktoy?... Or get trapped back to David?

My mother-in-law got kidnapped, but my powerful husband, who ran both sides of the law, was too busy throwing a birthday bash for his old flame's dog. The kidnappers warned them they'd kill her if he didn't show up. I didn't beg him to act because, in my past life, I dragged him away from that party despite being eight months pregnant to save his mom. His old flame, who tagged along, got spotted by the kidnappers' lookout. They assaulted her and brutally killed her. Her body parts were left to be eaten by dogs. Furious, he gunned down the culprits and vanished for a month. When he returned, he never mentioned it. Then I gave birth to our son and was full of joy. But he threw me into the woods, weak and defenseless. Wild animals tore me apart, leaving nothing behind. "You were jealous of Alicia and had the kidnappers kill her?" he accused. "You don't deserve her happiness." When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day his mom got kidnapped.

Ollie Clan was a broke college student with absolutely nothing to her name but debt. With bills just piling on her shoulders and life throwing curveballs in her face everywhere she turned, she had no choice but to grasp the lifeline her roommate proposes, take a job at the Werewolf-Human Integration Association or suffer. Werewolves were a common species Ollie never wanted to get caught dead with. They were abrasive, brutal and territorial. Even with that knowledge, Ollie wasn't ready in any way for her client, Ivailo Bridge. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Ivailo was about to burn her from the inside out with his callous attitude. If the definition of insufferable needed a representation, it would be Ivailo Bridge and he wasn't about to make her job easy. It wasn't a secret anywhere in the pack. Ivailo hated every snivelling human in existence and he was about to make it known to the supposed nanny without fail. Ollie was about to learn that werewolves weren't anything like humans. They were nothing short of instinct-borne animals with sharp teeth that bites and claws that have known war. They have never known mercy, not even to their mates.

A bloody resistance against colonial invasion that tears Seme's indigenous leadership apart marks the entry of a strange culture into the clan. Osayo, the priest, seeks to protect the clan's religious system from erosion by the Blue-eyed (colonists). He, however, has to face off with a few loose canons, including his own son who escapes to a mission center far from home and ends up falling in love with a convert. In the meantime, a terrible plague breaks out in the clan, killing animals and people and leaving the land barren. Coupled by a misunderstanding of concepts in the new faith propagated by the Blue-eyed, a longstanding rift and blame game emerge between the converts and the conservatives, and spuns into a cutural marriage. Soon afterward, Osayo dies and his son, Okayo, realizes he has a greater role to play. The supernormal powers of the clan's aboriginal religious tree are stolen by a witch in line with a prophetic myth. And in a painful and tumultous mission to reunite the two conflicting religions of Seme Clan and limit the Blue-eyed's influence, Okayo puts his front foot forward in combating witchcraft so as to have the tree's powers in safe custody, and protect good from being superseded by evil.

Susan Miller, my father's caretaker, often complains that the supplements keep running out. The wild kingroots that are worth 500 thousand dollars are completely used up even though Susan has only made soup with them twice in a row. As I filter through the medicinal residue with a frown on my face, Susan sinks down to her knees and begins slapping herself. "They must have melted in the soup because of my lack of attention! Please dock my pay, Ms. Lawson, but please don't fire me!" But that night, I come across a post uploaded by Susan's son, Roman Cox, on Instagram. "Hi everyone! Today, I'm challenging myself to eat two wild kingroots in one go!" When I see Roman picking up a familiar-lookng giftbox, I feel my temper flaring instantly. Then, I order a packet of potent aphrodisiacs meant for animals on the spot. It turns out that Roman intends to chug down my prized Romanee-Conti in the next episode of his stream. Well then, I'll let him have his feel of drinking something else!

I sell handmade fortune cookies in the park. Each one costs $10,000, yet every day, people fight to buy them. That’s because what I sell are fertility fortune cookies. Eat one, and you can get pregnant instantly. You can even choose what kind of child you want. Slip in a double-yolk charm, and you’ll have twins. Seal in a perfect test paper, and your child will be a genius. A spayed female dog ate one and ended up pregnant with six puppies. Someone buried a fortune cookie beneath a withered tree, and by the next day, it had burst into full bloom. I sell fortune cookies to both women and men—anyone who wants to get pregnant. I turn no one away. Even animals, if they so much as make a sound, I’ll feed them. Until one day, a young woman, Mara Kessler, who had been standing in line from dawn until dusk, finally stepped forward and timidly said she wanted to buy a fortune cookie. I only took one look at her, then staggered back in terror. "I can’t sell to you. Leave. Now."

My landlady, Irene Hogan, is a divorced woman who still oozes sex appeal for someone her age. Her daughter, Meredith Lowe, is extremely blessed when it comes to her feminine assets. We live under the same roof. One stormy night, as I lie in my bed, I take out the pair of pink panties belonging to Meredith so that I can have fun jerking off to it. To my shock, Meredith opens the door to my room immediately. She just stares at me while clad in a pair of thin pajamas. For a moment, I'm shocked beyond my wits, thinking that Meredith has caught me red-handed for stealing her panties. But she tells me, "Mr. Melton, the storm is really scary tonight. My mom's not home at the moment, so can I spend the night with you here?" As I stare at the tiny contours in her pajama pants, I realize that I don't need Meredith's panties at all. So, I flip open my covers. "Come sleep with me on my bed, Meredith."

I'm Lilith. My biggest trauma used to be my dad forgetting to book my Santorini villa, I know, the absolute horror of it all. I had the Porsche, the diamonds, the designer wardrobe that took up two whole rooms, and Jax, the perfect boyfriend who looked at me like I hung the moon. I thought I was the main character. Plot twist? I was wrong. Turns out I wasn't being raised as the Alpha's darling. I was being fattened up for slaughter. My parents didn't love me, they were just my wardens, keeping me soft and pretty and completely clueless. And that Gala everyone kept whispering about? Not my debutante ball. An auction. I got sold to the Triad like a piece of art, like a handbag, like I was something to own. The Triad. Three terrifying, bloodthirsty Alphas who make the monsters under your bed look like stuffed animals. They need me for some twisted prophecy I never signed up for, and they don't care what I want. Obviously. And the cherry on top of this hot-mess express? Jax held the door open for them. My perfect boyfriend counted his money while they dragged me away. They think they can break the spoiled princess. They think I'm just a "Spawn of Lilith" meant to be served on a silver platter. Soft and sweet and easy to swallow. Here's what they don't get. When you take away a girl's credit cards, her freedom, her whole damn life? The monster underneath is way more expensive to deal with than a few Birkins ever were.