Stray Dogs Comic Novels & Stories

“Please just kill me. Please.." with tears in my eyes I begged for my own death. I am not one to have suicidal thoughts but I could no longer bear the humiliating torture I was being subjected to any more. However my abductor smiled at my pain and suffering with joy. “You will surely meet your end but it will be when I decide your pu"*y is no longer of use to me and my men. But don't think that's the only terrible thing I can do to you. So you better apologize to me and my honored guest before I allow the dogs and horses to also get a taste of you too and make no mistake it's not going to be pleasant at all," he said wickedly and I felt so humiliated.. How did my life end up this way? Physically assaulted, starved, molested and made naked; being offered as an object of pleasure to his uncharacteristically attractive but intimidating guest? I used to have a perfect life. A family who cares for me and a man who loves and cherishes me. He only just proposed to me yesterday and I have been dreaming of raising a happy family with him. So where did it go wrong? Oh, I remember now. I was stabbed in the back by the person I love and trusted the most. I didn't know she has always been envious and jealous of my happiness. My best friend Gloria, she betrayed me and sold me out to a gang of ruthless thugs to be violated and murdered. However when it seemed all hope was lost the person I least expect to help me would be my savior.

On Christmas, I canceled a delivery appointment for the daughter of New Hork’s richest man. Instead, I flew overnight to deliver the baby of my brother, the Mafia boss, and his fiancée. The moment I stepped into the delivery room, she was already writhing in pain. Yet she suddenly grabbed my hand and demanded to know if I was a virgin. Seeing that she was already three centimeters dilated, I assumed the pain had muddled her mind. So I casually replied that I hadn’t been one for a long time. That was when she completely lost it, kicking me hard in the stomach as she screamed, “Get out! A shameless woman like you isn’t worthy of touching my son?! “Switch to a virgin doctor right now! Don’t pass your filth onto my child! Disgusting! “And take away all those imported supplements you brought! Even dogs wouldn’t eat them!” I stared at her as she rolled around on the bed and fell into deep thought. I genuinely couldn’t understand how a woman who got pregnant before marriage and was still living off my brother got the confidence to look down on someone else for not being a virgin? Calmly, I removed my gloves and called my brother right in front of her. “Your fiancée says I’m dirty, so I won’t be delivering this baby. Let her give birth on her own. “Oh, and I’ve canceled the top-tier delivery suite I reserved for you, too. After all, I wouldn’t want them to offend her eyes.”

"I won’t accept a dirty, poverty-stricken stray as my mate. I reject this bond." Solange Park spent her life clawing out of the dirt. Born in a brothel and haunted by her mother’s debts, Alistair’s rejection nearly cost her life. After being hunted and nearly sold into slavery, she rebuilt herself using the very thing she always despised... her beauty. Alistair Vance thought rejecting his fated mate was mercy. He believed a poor, bastard girl would ruin everything he has built. He thought he was protecting his reputation; instead, he shattered his own soul. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. Now, six years later, she is back with a new name, a successful life, and a human protector she actually trusts. When fate forces them together, Alistair becomes dangerously obsessed, willing to do anything to win back the woman he’d carelessly discarded. Solange sees his desperation, laughs in his face, and offers him a deal. If he wants her, he will pay for every second. She becomes his sugar baby, taking his money and protection, but never his bond… the one thing he wants. Because this time, the Alpha is not the one in control. Alistair accepts the punishment, enduring every cruel rejection for a chance to keep her by his side in any capacity. But obsession is a dangerous game, especially when you are no longer the only man fighting for the girl's heart.

"Kneel, Madison. Or did you forget that a stray like you doesn't deserve to stand in the presence of a True Alpha?" Austin’s voice was a jagged blade, but the heat of his hand on my throat told a different story. He’d traded me for my sister—the "real" daughter—claiming my scent was too weak, my blood too thin. He threw me to the dirt, watching with a smirk as my adoptive father tossed a few hundred-dollar bills at my feet and told me to disappear into the slums. They thought they broke me. They thought I was heading toward a life of hunger and shame with a family of "nobodies." They were dead wrong. When the black helicopters darkened the sky and the most powerful Lycan King in history stepped out to bow to me, the look on Austin’s face was worth more than his pathetic pack. My "impoverished" biological family didn't live in a shack—they owned the world. And my five "starving" brothers? They were the most lethal Alphas on the planet, and they were hungry for the blood of anyone who touched their sister. Now, I’m back. Not as the girl who begged for scraps, but as the Zillionaire Queen with enough silver to buy their souls and enough power to burn their legacy to ash. But there’s a problem: Ethan Harper. The Cursed Lycan King. A man who smells like midnight and looks like sin. He wants my heart, he wants my throne, and he’s determined to prove that while revenge is sweet, submission is delicious. He thinks he can tame the White Wolf. I think I’ll enjoy watching him try.

I was eighteen when I left Italy for Chicago. My brother Leo handed me over to his most powerful ally for “protection.” Don Damien Volkov. His eyes locked on me the first time we met. They never looked away. By day, I was his private doctor. By night, I was the only thing in his bed. His seduction was a slow, deliberate hunt. The way his body brushed against mine during an exam. A stray kiss that landed behind my ear. The weight of his hand resting on the small of my back. I fell fast and hard for his dark charm. I gave myself to him, letting him claim me, again and again. For four years, our affair was a secret hidden in the shadows. In that time, he sculpted my body, teaching it to crave his touch, molding me into his perfect obsession. Then she came back. Isabella, his exiled ex-fiancée. He sent his private jet for her. I swallowed my pride and crashed his reunion. An hour ago, his hands, still smelling of blood, gripped my chin. He forced his kiss on me. But now, right in front of me, he was stroking another woman's hair. "Elara, you're the one who climbed into my bed four years ago." "You act like a whore, but you expect me to treat you like a Donna?" The way he looked at Isabella was so tender. The way he looked at me was pure scorn. Shame burned through me. Head down, I sent my brother a coded text. Accept the Moretti proposal. I looked up. A smile bloomed on my face. "Fine. Then this is goodbye, Damien."

When Gideon Clarke rejected another one of my reimbursement requests, he attached the same message. "Your grandma doesn't have long to live. No matter how expensive the medication is, she won't even know the difference. As long as her vital signs are stable, that's enough. My money doesn't grow on trees." He was right. So I decided I would never spend another penny of his money again. I was leaving the Clarke family and the gilded cage that came with it. When the housekeeper saw the divorce papers in my hand, she shook her head with contempt. "Couldn't keep your husband, so now you're playing games." Gideon took the papers without saying a word. He only frowned at me, looking at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum. "Audrey, I'm busy. I have research to do and papers to write. I don't have time for this nonsense." In the end, though, I still got the signed divorce agreement. All thanks to his adopted sister. I was Mrs. Clarke, the wife of the nation's youngest and most celebrated scientist. Yet I lived worse than a stray dog. My grandmother needed approval from his adopted sister before she could have a 50,000-dollar surgery. If I came down with a fever and needed to be hospitalized, I needed her permission. Even after my grandmother died, I had to wait for her to be in the right mood before I could pay the cremation fee at the funeral home. I had endured it for five years. One thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days. Now, I would never have to endure it again.

After being released from my three-year sentence, Zoe Sanders finally found me in an underground fight club. The moment she saw me, she grabbed me by the collar and punched me across the face, her eyes burning red with fury. "Henry Goldman, who gave you the nerve to disappear like this? "And what the hell have you done to yourself?" I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and laughed carelessly. "One punch, one hundred thousand. "If you’re still angry, feel free to keep going. I could use the money for this year’s rent." Her fists trembled uncontrollably, but her voice softened. "Come home with me... apologize to Ronald Green. "He’s always been kind-hearted. He already forgave you for framing him." Her gaze swept over the scars covering my body, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Look at yourself. Covered in blood like this... what’s the difference between you and a stray dog digging through garbage?" My body stiffened. Then I turned and walked away. What she did not know was this: In prison, blood and violence were the only ways I learned to survive. "Don’t forget," she shouted after me, "I’m still your fiancée!" My footsteps stopped. How could I forget? Three years ago, on the night of our engagement, Ronald drugged me and sent me to a black-market auction. I was stripped of all dignity and sold like merchandise. That night, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. And the person who signed the papers that sold me… was my fiancée herself.

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.

“Just as pathetic as I remember you to be, sweetheart.” “I sleep with you because I’m unfortunate to be married to you so don’t bother reading between the lines.” Slapping his treacherous lips away from my own, I huff frantically. “I detest the sight of you, bastard.” He smirks throwing me against the filthy wall of the cave before whispering against my lips, “I know, sweetheart.” Fisting his shirt, I pull him in, “I’ll kill you someday for all your bullshit. The best part is I’ll be hailed as a hero for it.” I dig my nails into his side while digging my heels in his toes. Chuckling, he kissed me with a novel fervour. Too consumed with his taste on my tongue I don’t realize he had taken me off the floor. In times like these he made his hate achingly obvious by his rough groping. When after several seconds he is still ravaging my mouth, I slap his arm to gasp for air but he takes his sweet time devouring life out of me. He let me go only when my life flashes before my eyes. Caressing my hair as I huffed out puffs of air, he smirked. “Good Morning, Nafasm.” I'll remember to add getting away with murder on my bucket list. .... I had everything in life figured out and about half a year to get out of college and finally experience life (Breathy tone) but that's when Sienna, my bitch of a friend, asked me for a favor. Why the hell am I kidnapped? And what is with these people growling like rabid dogs? And please, can anyone tell me why the f*ck, AM I GETTING MARRIED TO THEIR HUNK OF A GANG LEADER WITH UNNATURAL GLOWING EYES?

My lazy stepbrother, Derek Lane, suddenly becomes the hardest-working person in the village. He cuts weeds, carries buckets of manure, and works the fields. Nothing seems too difficult for him. But while he works, cuts suddenly appear on my hands. The carrying pole rubs my shoulders raw. Even the soles of my feet split open. I have no idea what kind of dark magic he uses, but every injury he suffers is somehow transferred onto me. After spending an entire day laboring under the blazing sun, he remains full of energy. Meanwhile, I collapse from heatstroke. I tell Dad to stop Derek from working in the fields. Instead of listening to me, Dad drags me to the village square and publicly lambasts me in front of all the villagers. He scolds, "You still think you're some spoiled boy who came from the city? Not only are you too lazy to work, but you're even spreading lies that Derek is using black magic!" From that day on, Derek works even harder. But at the same time, I can no longer work in the fields at all with my body covered in injuries. A week later, he's named the village's "Farmer of the Year". Thanks to that title, he earns the chance to head to the city and attend college. As for me, I collapse from exhaustion and die in the cornfield. Wild dogs feed on my remains. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the first day Derek is trying to steal my work points. There are 15 days left until the fall harvest. I have 15 days until I die in that cornfield. I snatch the carrying pole from Derek's hands and say, "I'll handle my own work."