Stolas Novels & Stories

"How were you able to identify it at all?" Dennis seemed to remember then that she was still fairly new to the operation and he calmed himself down to explain. "You see, Miss Months, every item in Olympus's storage has been tagged with a Doomsday beacon, which as the name implies, is only activated when said item is activated in a such a manner as to be classified as a doomsday.

“You don't need to worry. The baby’s stable now.” Tears pooled in Estelle’s eyes. She felt such intense relief that her chest felt tight. Her breaths became shallower. At that moment, Boris didn’t stop working. He scribbled something on the medical chart, then took a small vial from his pocket—a clear glass container filled with a transparent liquid, the label of which was too small for Estelle to read. Estelle narrowed her eyes. “What is that?” “A stabiliser,” Boris answered calmly, his voice steady and convincing. “It’s to regulate your blood pressure.”

The sound he made when he chuckled made me blush foolishly in embarrassment. “The man who led you to this state is Devon, who is unfortunately my stepbrother. My name is Sebastian,” He said, and everything came crashing down. I could finally put a name to Mr. red eye's face. So, it turned out that the reason my assaulter and this man looked alike was because they were stepbrothers! “Miguel. Umm…how many hours have I been out?” I asked, twirling my fingers, not daring to meet his gaze.

Her words were a poignant reminder of the studio’s transformative power, turning pain into a shared experience and a catalyst for healing. Even Elian returned—this time with a small group of artists he now mentored. They called themselves “The Staymakers.” Their gift: a framed illustration of the fan, sunflower, and shelf… titled: “How We Learned to Belong.” The artwork was a visual representation of the studio’s nurturing environment, a place where individuals could find their place and grow together.

A large table was placed in front of the couch but there was enough space between them. At the corner of the room, a sink was placed there. Branded bottles of hand wash were sitting pretty on it. A locked cabinet rested against one wall. In the cabinet, different kinds of erotic tools were arranged neatly. Different sizes of leather cuffs. Different length of spreader bars. Floggers with multiple tails were arranged beside each other. Wipes with single tails followed evenly. Paddles, crop and canes, blindfolds, gags, including rings and balls, and clamps were arranged on a table in front of the cabinet.

said Green softly, telling him to go back to where he was. Green had just gone after ensuring that Langit had returned to his previous place, she took some rice and chicken soup to give it to Langit, not forgetting the warm water and the minimizing-fever medicine she had bought at the front stall to accompany the rice and the chicken soup that had been placed on the tray. "Your mom called just now, and told me that you should eat and drink medicine. I have made this food, please it this," Green said while put the tray on the table.

Grabbing a protein bar, I open the wrapper and take a big, crunchy bite. "Bitch," she mutters from under the covers. Well, I think that's what she mutters. I grin at the mound of pillows and blankets. "But I'm a lovable bitch, right?" Most of the time. Probably... She grumbles something unintelligible I can't quite decipher. I'm not sure if she agrees or disagrees with that statement. But since she's experiencing a killer hangover, I'm going to guess she's in disagreement. "You're down to thirty minutes now. Tick tock, tick tock." I set a glass of water and two acetaminophen tablets on the table beside her bed. "Take the pills and guzzle the water. It'll help." Honestly, it can't hurt at thi