Shrink Stories Novels & Stories

Nathan and Miranda understood that storytelling held immense power—a power to heal, to inspire, and to create lasting change. Motivated by this realization, they set out on a mission to document and share these stories of resilience. Through captivating interviews, powerful photographs, and poignant narratives, they aimed to create a platform that celebrated the triumphs of the human spirit. They believed that by amplifying these stories, they could reshape societal perceptions, break down barriers, and foster a greater sense of empathy and understanding.

Next part will be His intro but on the condition when I'll get your views. Do vote also if you like this story is totally different from my other works. ~~Shrinkhla Singh😃😃😃

He let out the friendliest of smiles, making Anderson very uncomfortable. Anderson stared back and forth between Suit and the scroll. His mind was racing. The contract sounded simple enough. Straightforward, but he did not understand. ‘What did he mean by survive the stories? Did he not say I was going to tell a story? What does survive the story mean?’ Question after question popped up into his head. He could not help himself. He had no idea exactly what it meant, but one thing was for certain; He would not move forward if he did nothing but constantly question the situation

The Royal Shadow Series will consist of 9 books, and then the saga will be complete. Part of the saga is also the anthology A Court of Arcane Souls, which features short stories based on side characters readers wanted to read more about, but these stories are not available on the book apps, nor will they ever be; they are exclusive to my subscription platform. There are currently 4 short stories available: From Omega to Beta (Torie's story), Say Yes Like You Mean It (Derrick's story), A Motherly Bond (Jessica's story - Marcus' mother), and Embracing Her Cursed Love (Eisa's story). There are 4 more scheduled short stories to come that have been requested, and likely even more after that.

I had soaked the sheets down to the mattress. The faintest grin crossed Nathan’s face. “You need some kind of pleasure in your life. I can’t give it to you. Not like this. Remember all the fun we used to have? All the sexy shit we used to do.” A shiver ran down my spine as I thought about Nathan in healthier times. Our love life had never been an issue. No matter how broken we were, or how petty the argument, our sex life was something that never suffered. Sometimes we would fight over the smallest of things just to end up fucking like rabbits. It was a miracle I didn't get pregnant.

And my body only shook violently between them, tears streaming down my face as the overwhelming fullness pushed me right past every boundary I ever thought I had. “Oh God… I can’t… it’s too much!” I sobbed, voice breaking. “You’re both so deep… and your cocks are so massive and full inside me…. I’m already at my breaking point now… I don’t think I can take this massive long cocks anymore… I think I need a little or more break at this point… I feel so full… please… I’m going to break any moment from now if you two don’t slow down with this hard and rough fucking… please… I’m pleading with you guys… I can’t take this cocks anymore…!”

he said, his voice a low vibration that hit me square in the chest. The chatter died instantly. He turned around, leaning against the podium, his sleeves already rolled up to reveal the lion etched into his tanned skin. My pulse spiked. I couldn't stop my eyes from tracing the golden outlines of the beast on his arm, remembering the way it seemed to ripple in the moonlight of my subconscious. "The Art of Storytelling is not a solo venture," he began, his almond eyes finally sweeping over the rows. "To understand narrative, you must understand collaboration and the friction of differing perspectives. For the remainder of the semester, you will be working in groups of five."

There would be nothing left but emptiness. After that, my father never showed up again. One day, Little Zoe came home carrying a letter and a cake. My mother showed me the letter. It contained the address of the house my father had promised, along with a bank card that had two hundred million dollars in it. We did not move there. We never touched a single cent of that money. The following winter, I saw news from Harbor City on television. Rowan Xanders, a prominent entrepreneur, had died at the age of twenty-nine from an old injury.

Jennifer: Shrug emoji. I decided to take a different tack. This time, rather than pick safe, general stories, I chose a bunch of different categories and sent my favorites from each. One was romantic, about a couple falling in love. The next was about a wife who sleeps with another man. Another had a husband bringing in his best friend for a threesome. I chose one that had some bondage (not my thing, but I picked a story that was highly rated). I sent a Lesbian story and a Gay male one (again, I relied on the ratings). I linked a story about watching two people have sex in the woods, and one about a girl riding a sybian for the first time. I skipped two categories: nonconsent and incest. As

Shrinkhal asked her Mugdha didn't understand what he meant to say. Shrinkhal held her hand and took her to a garden area beside the river. He sat on his knees and said " Mugdha I know I'm the biggest idiot on this earth. I made so many mistakes that you can't forgive me ever but I still want your forgiveness and love. I know it's difficult for you Mugdha but will you love me again? If you said yes then like Shahjahan made Taj mahal for his mumtaz I will make a library for you." Shrinkhal said with teary eyes and Mugdha gasped in shock