Stucked Novels & Stories

We felt more prepared, and I had high hopes. My hopes were dashed the moment the ancient sat upright in his coffin for a moment. His eyes were still closed and he couldn’t communicate with me thanks to the spell, but I could feel him trying to push through its boundaries. He hadn’t moved again after sitting up but the tension in the vault was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. I cut a small hole in one of the draining tubes exactly as we agreed and it would slow down the entire process by what we hoped was just enough for the witch to complete the spell.

Jane said avoiding her friend's gaze that just stared at her. "You should have just listen to your friend,instead of being a stubborn brat,"Anya heard a voice behind her, she turned to find Jessica, Jessica rolled her eyes at her. "Jessica what do you want now ?"Anya said and stood up then she folded her hands across her breasts, Jessica smirked. "Just know that the war has began and also you days here are numbered,i won't let you cause trouble here again "Jessica said and pointed at Anya who scoffed with a smirk.

she called her father to eat. (Dad) * spit the food out* YOU GOOD FOR NOTING CHILD! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS HUH? I SHOULD HAVE FORCED THAT WOMAN TO ABORT YOU WHEN SHE WAS PREGNANT WITH YOU! Her father spat the spaghetti at her face. and walked out. Earlier that night

no way! why am I bent in such an angle like a baby in the womb, what is happening to me? I took a look at my position, my breath got stuck in my throat as I realized I was inside a rope like thing, no,...wait, I am in a FUCKING trap. This isn't funny any more, am I going to die as food for carnivores as I become their special treat. No, I can't be thinking that, then can anyone tell me why I was stuck in a fucking trap, this is too

I feel more lubricant drip down my shaft and Mollie slowly sinking down causing me to buck my hips at how sensitive I felt. She slowly rides me and I moan against Jessie's slit. I try to lift my hips to get more friction, but my feet were tied. I whimper and Mollie starts riding me like lightning. My body trembles under them both and I feel my cum drip out of Mollie as she rides me into oblivion. I was finding it difficult to keep focus and Jessie climbs off me.

Thoughts came rushing in for dear life. He thought of a small lie. “It's lodged in that Yellow Pages.” He pointed at the telephone book which was about four inches thick on the shelf in between several books. “I carved a hole in the middle and I hid it inside.” Yes, it was a lie, but he was taking chances for a little ploy to make his move. He was thinking of one distraction to change the situation around, by moving fast at the right time, and he would jump at him. “Ok. Take it out and give it to me . . . slowly,” the man said. “Oops, I'll take it,” Rudy Rude changed his mind, so it seemed. JC feared that now his little lie would not work out.

I was dumbstruck. **************

Four months later: “Miss, you need to wake up or your going to be late.” I hear my maid say as I’m shaken again. “Ugh” I say rolling back into my bed. “You have ten minutes and I’m coming back in here.” She says walking out of my room. As I roll to my side I feel my stomach churning. I hate this stomach bug I’ve been having this last few weeks. As I go to sit up I reach for my phone, the time tells me that I am indeed running late.

Ian switched on the flashlight on his phone. The dim light spread across the elevator walls. "It can't be," I whispered. My hands were shaking as I quickly pulled out my own phone. I tried calling. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing.There is no signal. The call wouldn’t go through. My chest tightened as I slowly lowered my phone. I looked up at Ian. My voice trembled as the reality hit me. "We're stuck," I whispered. The words felt heavy in my mouth. "We are fucking stuck....." I swallowed nervously before finishing my sentence. "Together."

Turned around. The door was closed. I pushed. Didn't move. Pulled. Nothing. Put my shoulder into it – the full weight of a 6'3 hockey player who could bench press 250 – and the door didn't shift. Not stuck. Not jammed. Locked. The deadbolt kind of locked. The someone-turned-a-key kind of locked. My phone. One bar. Flickering. Text to Naomi: Running late. Not delivered. Call. Nothing. Dead air. The signal dropping to zero in a concrete box designed to store equipment, not transmit cell signals.