Science Fiction Short Story Collections Novels & Stories

[ LILA’S POV ] Midnight Whispers and Morning After The weekend after Victor’s risky visit under the same roof, Professor Harlan announced in our graduate seminar that he would be hosting a small departmental gathering at his house on Thursday evening. “Just colleagues, a few students, wine and cheese,” he said with that warm, scholarly smile that made half the class swoon. I sat in the front row, legs crossed tightly, still feeling the faint ache between my thighs from Victor’s last pounding. The thought of hosting a party in the very rooms where I had been defiled made my pussy clench involuntarily.

It won't happen again. "No, it's fine," I lied smoothly, trying to ignore the way my core tightened just remembering what I'd done while listening to him. "I needed to get some writing work done anyway." He leaned his heavy shoulder against the wall, sipping his coffee while his silver eyes thoroughly studied my face. "What do you do?" "I write books," I said. An eyebrow lifted, his interest clearly piqued. "An author? That's Impressive. What kind?" I stared into my cup, definitely not wanting him to know what kind of books I wrote. "Romance."

The dorm room smelled like instant ramen, vanilla body spray, and the faint metallic tang of nervous sweat. Finals week had turned the entire floor into a pressure cooker, but room 412 was quieter than most. Lights off except for the two desk lamps and the blue glow from Lena’s laptop screen. Textbooks and highlighters littered the floor like casualties.

I would recognize what these were even in my sleep. Whips. Cuffs. Blindfolds. Gags. Collars. Leashes. Dildos. Sex toys. Nipple clamps. Vibrators. Candles sat on a table nearby and my eyes widened in sheer shock as realization dawned on me. Davin was into fucking BDSM. I expected a lot of things to be in this study, maybe even guns and explosives. But hell no, not a red room. Not a room full of my biggest desires. As a masochist, it was hard to find anyone who could ever match my freak. But this? Goodness, this was heaven here on earth. I grabbed the end of one rope and tied it around my wrists, binding them together, and I let out a soft moan.

Olson Embers: A Collection of Dark Fiction by Kenneth W. Cain Visions of the Mutant Rain Forest, by Bruce Boston and Robert Frazier Tribulations by Richard Thomas Eidolon Avenue: The First Feast by Jonathan Winn Flowers in a Dumpster by Mark Allan Gunnells The Dark at the End of the Tunnel by Taylor Grant Through a Mirror, Darkly by Kevin Lucia Things Slip Through by Kevin Lucia Where You Live by Gary McMahon Tricks, Mischief and Mayhem by Daniel I. Russell

“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have requested it.” I blink hard, forcing back the fresh sting of tears. I’ve barely held myself together these last few weeks. I can’t fall apart now, not here. “I don’t want to talk about that. I just need my things, Paul. My clothes. My books.” “Yeah. Right.” He nods, a short, jerky motion. He sets the untouched glass down with a sharp click and picks up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the table instead. He shakes one out, puts it between his lips, and lights it with a practiced flick. The acrid smell of smoke immediately taints the sterile air. He inhales deeply as he shuffles through a stack of boxes, his back to me. Then he points with the hand hold

The next morning, golden sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Reed family penthouse, bathing the open-plan kitchen in a warm glow. Isabella stood at the marble island wearing nothing but one of Alex’s oversized white button-down shirts. The hem barely skimmed the tops of her smooth thighs, and the thin fabric did little to hide the way her full breasts moved freely beneath it, her nipples faintly visible. Her long chestnut hair was tousled from a restless night, falling in messy waves around her flushed face. She moved mechanically, brewing coffee, trying desperately to shake off the vivid, forbidden dreams that had haunted her sleep—dreams of rough hands, a deeper v

he growled against my neck. “I….I love…crazy.” I stammered. “Good.” He backed away from me, and in the dim light walked to a cabinet in the corner, pulling out a cuff and a blindfold. My breath caught as the metal of the cuff glinted faintly. I had watched videos of girls being tied up, blindfolded, and fucked, but I had never actually done anything like it. Lee had always preferred his sex safe and calm. Not dark and dangerous.

Chapter – 0007 Damon POV The library was nearly deserted at 10:30 p.m. on a Thursday. Only the desperate and the sleepless remained. I’d come here to dig through old newspaper archives on Professor Lang’s “suicide,” but my mind kept drifting back to Lila. I was scanning microfiche when I heard footsteps. Soft and familiar. Then her scent. Lila appeared at the end of the row, wearing an oversized hoodie and tiny shorts that made her legs look endless.

And yet I still couldn’t get through. What was the damn password? It took a lot of willpower not to slam my fist on the laptop in frustration. With each passing second, my eagerness to get to my destination intensified. In all my years on earth, I’d never seen a collection of p**n as voluminous as the one that resided on Daniel’s laptop. But the p**n alone wasn’t what had commanded my full curiosity. It was the toys that had been on a separate window beside it. My God. Never could I have imagined that any individual would have a toy collection that was that vast.