Steam Punk Novels & Stories

It was, rather than using the wires and the circuit board, the Nodes acted as they 2 thing in one. On top of that their design for the look of the vehicles, is just extraordinary, it was beautiful, artistic and very aesthetic to the eyes, that will not looked entirely off to the Fantasy world, but at the same time will look extremely modern for the Fantasy World. Their design is looking exactly what the Transportation will look like in the Fantasy world in the future times. Ti had the vibes of Steam punk, but less the bronze looks, but leaning towards the Science Fiction theme. The Sedan Cars have that Hot Rod looks but more metallic and sophisticated, gone th

My mother owns the Krupp Banking Empire and my step-father is the heir to the Essington Armaments Works and my mother has use for all its bombs, guns, tanks and planes. I sat in my mother’s Corvette convertible with one leg folded up resting on the seat with my pussy fully exposed. Poor Willard was hard pressed to keep his eyes on the road as he cursed my masturbation display. I worked myself to orgasm, screaming and panting as we pulled up at a set of traffic lights. A cyclist watched me orgasm and I lifted my juice soaked fingers for him to suck as he sat alongside us. Willard cursed “Candy...PLEASE stop making a spectacle of yourself”

The Ferryman’s Audit The crossing at Ste. Genevieve was a "Broken Asset" sanctuary. A group of "Liquidated" rivermen had salvaged a massive steel barge, powering it with a "Recycled" steam engine that burned dried driftwood and "Chronicle" plastic. There was no "Neural-Link" required for passage; the only "Index" that mattered was the weight of your trade.

They crossed the flickering boundary of the northern Echo-Zone, where the grass still shifted between soft clover and rigid, emerald-green pixels. There, they found them: The Iron-Keepers. They emerged from the treeline not as refugees, but as a Mechanized Migration. Their vehicles were massive, steam-belching crawlers made of scavenged brass and heavy iron, looking like something from a clockwork nightmare. These weren't survivors of the Grand Stack. "They’re from a Steampunk-Sim," Julian whispered, his prismatic eyes analyzing the pressure gauges on the lead crawler. "Project: Aetheria. It was a closed-loop simulation the Architects abandoned decades ago because the 'AI' became too obsesse

Note: The title is a request from the reader. You can add yours when sending a request. This also has a touch of FF action. ..... The tray was warm against her palm as she walked in. There were three glasses of whiskey on the tray, and they should have made the tray cold, but they didn't. Ray crossed the main floor of The Scarlet Sea with her bare feet since they weren't allowed shoes in there, for those who have a foot fetish. The apron she was putting on was the only covering she had.

The ice had blocked the mechanics, but now that the cold was broken showed Sector Zephyr's true face. Deep inside the annular complex sintered huge steam boilers. The wooden facades began everywhere huge gear wheels made of polished brass and recycled carbon steel to rotate with a rich, heavy Klack-coating lacquer. Standard, Leather Wind Sail were unrolled on chain hoists to support the city's uplift. The steam-driven heartbeat of the rebel city perfectly harmonized with the emerald green sums of steel lungs. It was a symphony from upcycling,

It was a city bathed in neon lights and steam coming off various buildings… There were towers made of brass that were also filled with glowing signs, gears turning on rooftops, and alleyways with bright crimson light as the train entered the city… It looked like something out of a fever dream. It was beautiful, seductive, and it felt as if something was wrong. Farrah leaned closer to the window as she couldn’t believe it. It was like a Steampunk City that could only be seen in the movies or read in the books. Then, with a soft hiss, the train doors slid open. A gust of warm, perfumed air swept inside… It was sweet and metallic, like roses and rust mixed together…

He says and I nod still as I continue to gather my still scattered wits. “So I’m guessing you’re the owner of Sizzle and Steam right?” he asks and I nod “Just you alone? Because you mentioned a partner?” he prods and I shake my head “I own fifty percent of Sizzle and Steam. Cameron my partner owns the other fifty percent.” I explain.

"These are stockings, actually. Here, feel for yourself." His thick, rough palm landed on my thigh. It was calloused and coarse. The feel of that hand only made me hungrier. He even slipped his fingers up toward the hem of my skirt and gave me a squeeze underneath. "Well, I'll be. They are stockings. Real smooth, too." He pulled the fabric of my stockings up and let it snap back down with a smack. His grin widened, and suddenly something about it felt familiar. It reminded me of Steve Axwell, my neighbor.