Silk Touch Axe Novels & Stories

Many times his eyes darted to the edge of the path he was passing. The movement in the thickets brought Orda to a halt again, his horse grunting and neighing softly. Orda drew the double-edged ax he threw onto his back. The handle of the object was rather long and silvery in color. Each blade bears a sign of a roaring tiger. “Whoever you are, come out,” Orda said, his voice was firm yet still. Even so, a drop of sweat seemed to be dripping down his forehead.

I looked past them, the fight was dying down and my guys were winning but they were too far. Selene closed her eyes and moaned like it felt good. Axel leaned in, lips by my ear. “Watch this.” He pulled a silver blade from his waistband. It was long, sharp and glowed faint blue from whatever poison coated it. He raised it high straight to my chest. At that moment, I had no strength left to move, so I just closed my eyes. Ethan’s scream made my eyes open fully. He was running at full speed towards me.

I need my sword. Reaching behind my back, I feel the cool, smooth texture of my marking shift beneath my fingers. There’s a brief moment where the ink pulses, almost as if it’s alive, before it solidifies into the hilt of my sword. I draw it out, feeling the familiar weight settle into my hand. The blade hums with energy, a glowing blue that pulses in time with my heartbeat. This sword is mine, a part of me, born of my blood and soul. Athena’s gift, forged from my very essence.

Aleister wondered out loud, clearly impressed by the witch's armory. Ruby pressed a certain button on the wall and the shelf lined with knives separated like a sliding door presenting a variety of scythes. There was a scythe entirely made out of fishbone, there was an ill-proportioned one with a heart-shaped ruby and thorns, he saw another scythe where the blade is completely made out of ice making him wonder how it hadn't melted yet, one impressive scythe had a golden handle styled as a dragon and from its mouth protrudes a crimson metal. The weapon bore great power and he can feel it merely by looking at its blade. Aleister then noticed a black scythe that made shivers run up his spine. Th

The burn is sharp, shocking against my flushed skin. It cools instantly, leaving a hard shell. Another drop. Right on the nipple. "Alex!" He alternates. A spank on my raw ass. A drop of wax on my sensitive tits. Pain from behind, heat from the front. I’m trapped in a sensory crossfire. My body is shaking violently. I’m sweating, the amber light making my skin glow like gold. "Fill her," Echo growls. "Use the Prototype." Alex sets the candle down. He grabs something from the bedside table. A thick, black silicone dildo. It’s vibrating so hard I can hear the motor humming over the music.

Reine moaned out loud and arched her back, lifting her hips up to receive more of the attention he was giving her pussy. Jax spread her lips again and inserted his tongue into her wet hole, pairing his rhythmic thrusts with flicks of his thumb against her clit. Reine grinded her wet pussy against his face, trying to get as much contact as she could. "Jax!" She screamed, putting her hand on his head and gyrating all over his moving tongue. "Oh my God in cumming!" Reine exclaimed, clenching her pussy walls and whimpering uncontrollably after she screamed. Jax was still lapping at her juices and he didn't stop until her shivering body relaxed.

Varga’s executioner’s axe came up in a brutal, vertical counter-strike. The silver edge of the heavy axe struck the underbelly of Brandon’s pneumatic saber exactly where the brass pressure tube met the steel hilt. The collision was cataclysmic. The silver blade sheared through the imperial brass like soft lard, rupturing the pressurized piston chamber. A violent blast of compressed air and hydraulic oil erupted outward, shattering the steel blade into a dozen jagged fragments and blowing the gauntlet off Brandon’s right hand in a spray of dark blood.

Flowery flowers. He really went all out with the polishing and waxing, removing his cuirass and shirt to get some real elbow grease into it. I tried to watch how he worked on his weapons, sliding his hands around, really grinding down the edges to a brilliant sheen that you could tell was razor sharp just by looking, but I had to look away. Watching a sweaty man with an extremely hairy back is no easy thing before breakfast. Maurice pointed at a small axe. “Can I borrow this?”

Swords dominated most of the walls though, but there were staffs, clubs, halberds, axes. Kilvic was here for the staff. There were more than enough staffs to practice his charmcasting. But something told him there wasn’t enough to keep breaking each time he failed. He took a few steps in the room and found himself standing in front of one of the axes. It was a double-headed axe, each blade as wide as a man’s head, capable of splitting any man’s skull in a single swing if they were real. A battle axe. He trailed a gentle finger down its haft. It was smooth, bearing only the faintest signs of use. It reminded him of one of the battle axes in his father’s armory.

Dax commanded, pushing forward into the horde. Tank swung his Origin-Code logging chain. The massive, glowing blue whip tore through the water, shattering three heavily armored Trench-Walkers into harmless blue ash that instantly dissolved into the current. Jax swung his phased gear-axe in brutal, sweeping arcs, the Revers President adapting to the crushing gravity with sheer, feral muscle. "Blood on the water!" he bellowed over the comms, cleaving a cybernetic assassin in half.