Skin Sins Novels & Stories

He gave me his alluring grin, which instantly squeezed a whimper out of my throat. My arousal went to a whole different level when he turned me around and started to soap the skin of my back. No one had ever touched my cursed skin like that. Not to mention that I would never let anyone touch the skin on my back at all, but somehow, I didn't mind him stroking my silver scars. His fingertips left searing traces that nearly led me to climax. He didn't play fair. Once he learned that his strokes of my back made me moan, he rinsed off the soap and started kissing every inch of my spine.

“All this time you’ve been walking around the house in those baggy hoodies and loose jeans, pretending to be the perfect innocent little stepsister… and you’re actually Lunar Katt? The masked slut who twerks her ass and spreads her dripping pussy on camera for thousands of guys?” Her mouth fell open and closed several times opened again. Her face had gone completely pale like she was about to pass out. “Please… Nelson, it’s not what you think. I can explain…” I pulled my phone out, opened my secret folder, and hit play. The sound of her own pornstar moans immediately filled the small bathroom. On the screen, Lunar Katt was on all fours, completely naked except for the black mask, back arched

Unfortunately, it seemed as if he had put me off dates for a while. I picked up my fork, ready to dig into my second slice of cake. The diner we were in was a cute place located on the corner of a busy street. Sixties themed-white and pale pink interior. The classic checkerboard flooring. It was our first time trying it and it was already becoming a favourite. Silvana sighed, reaching over the table to rest her hand on mine. Her nails were painted a bright red, matching the colour of her hair. She had a concerned expression on her face when she spoke again, "You have no idea how sorry I am."

"Um, Mrs. Ford, I...I used to bully you, and you-you are still so nice to me. Orchid Beauty's luxury skin care can go up to tens of thousands of dollars per set, and you are just giving it to me?" Sabrina shrugged with a casual smile. "I have allergies and the scent of those products is a little bit overbearing to me, so I have no use for them. It's just a waste to just keep it around when I'm not using it. I noticed you have bags under your eyes the past two days, so I figured you should have them instead." Ruth held the bag of skin-care products close against her chest. "Thank you, thank you so much, Mrs. Ford," she muttered gratefully.

"Where's the person in charge? Get out here!" Over 30 customers in line turned their attention to the man's face. "Why are you looking at me? Look at my wife!" The dark-faced man glanced into the experience center, then waved his hands toward the surrounding customers. Pointing at his wife on the stretcher, he shouted, "My wife used the New Chesire Group's 'Crystal Elegance Skin' skincare series. She was fine, but look what happened to her. She's now covered in rashes or something, and some of them are even secreting pus!

The appearance of the "Seraphina-Skin" was the ultimate "Mod" of the human heart. Silas stood paralyzed, his gold-veined wolf form withdrawing into a state of terminal vulnerability. He looked at the woman who had faked her death thirty years ago and then sacrificed her solar-resonance for him, only to see her now as a "Premium Restoration." She was beautiful, her skin a flawless ivory shot through with veins of mercury-silver, but she had no scent. She was a "Hollow Asset," a high-definition lie designed to bridge the gap between Silas’s grief and the Collector’s market.

The skin on my face stings under his touch, but I force myself to keep my jaw locked, refusing to cry out in front of him. The harsh scraping of Silas's combat boots against the concrete floor echoes like thunder through the small, damp cell. He takes a slow half-step back, releasing his hold on my face, but his glowing golden eyes never leave mine for a second. Slowly, methodically, he unbuttons the thick cuffs of his dark shirt. He rolls the sleeves up past his elbows, revealing the full extent of the thick, jagged scars running all the way up his corded forearms. They look like old burn marks mixed with deep, ragged claw wounds—brutal reminders of violence written directly onto his flesh

The smell of blood still clung. “You’re going to take your skin off,” someone said quietly. She looked up. Kael stood a step away, a half‑empty water skin in one hand, a strip of cloth in the other. A shallow cut on his cheek had started to dry; a darker stain marked his sleeve where someone else’s blood had soaked in. “I’m fine,” Rin said. “You’re scrubbing like it insulted you,” he said. “It did,” she said. “It keeps telling stories about me I didn’t agree to.”

"No!!!" Tina was shrieking, "My baby!!! I'm so sorry!!!" Zach came rushing in. "What's wrong?! What happened?! What are you crying for?!" Tina could only keep wailing, "My baby… My baby!!!" Feeling a sense of foreboding, Zach walked up and unwrapped the swaddle to see that it wasn't my daughter, but the son they were so obsessed with! The bastard's cheeks were purple, and he wasn't breathing at all, clearly having been strangled to death.

The hallway feels too quiet, too close. I glance down toward the edge of his shirt where it clings to his hip and freeze. There. Just under the edge of the fabric, peeking out from his side is a scratch. Thin, faint, but it’s real and synthetic skin doesn’t scratch like that. Not unless the protective outer layer was compromised. I step forward, eyes narrowing. “Wait. Let me see your side.” Flynn frowns, lifting his shirt slightly. “What—?” There it is again. A shallow line, no blood, just thick synthetic skin and circuits flashing