Submerged Book Novels & Stories

Many people always gathered there. Katia stopped at a stall where they were selling books of an erotic theme and skimmed through some titles. There were some books she already had, but others she didn't. Some of these books, she never thought she'd see in print. She picked up a book titled "Diary of a Submissive" by Sophie Morgan. She read the synopsis, raised an eyebrow, but ended up buying it. She didn't know why she bought it, but she had already paid for it.

“I mean the money stops flowing the moment the spirit of the person whom your invisible double delivered with your katana, returns to the spirit realm…you won’t understand what I mean, because it’s not for your consumption. The bathtub before you is your means of transportation to any particular part of the world…especially to the marine sphere. All you have to do is call the name of the particular place you want to travel to seven times and step into it from the rear…like an elevator, it will take you there in seven seconds.” She then stood erect and opened the white cupboard above the toilet, took out a purple book. It was as large as a laptop computer, with Ebie written on the cover in go

A pull like a magnet, weak but just about perceptible. Caitlin opened her eyes and followed the pull as it led her to a shelf of dusty books. Her eyes skimmed across the spines, unable to read any of the languages. But then she saw one book in English and knew, deep inside of her, that she had found what she had been sent here for. She pulled the book down and a cloud of dust flew into the air. The book had clearly not been touched for centuries. She had to be careful with it in case the pages shattered on contact with her skin.

"I can run the descent profile, but you have to clear the manual release valves on the launch rail! If the bulkhead seals are jammed by the pressure drop, the hatch won't clear the thermal layer!" They slammed through the heavy corrugated fire doors of Sub-Level Four, where the air tasted sharply of compressed oxygen, hydraulic fluid, and the heavy, brine-saturated chill of the open ocean. Water was already pooling across the grooved steel flooring, ankle-deep and surging in dark, violent ripples from the flooded utility corridors to the east. In the center of the subterranean bay sat the submersible—a compact, matte-black sphere of reinforced titanium bristling with external camera arrays a

YOU HAVE PROVEN YOURSELVES CAPABLE PROTECTORS. > BUT THE ARCHITECT WAS A CRUEL TEACHER. IT IS TIME FOR THE MATRIARCH TO FINISH YOUR EDUCATION. > WELCOME TO THE SECOND GARDEN. THE SUBMERGED SANCTUARY The submersible didn't hit the seafloor. It was pulled into a massive, pressurized hangar hidden beneath a natural shelf of coral. As the water was pumped out, the hatch hissed open. Rage stepped out first, his gun raised, his eyes scanning the perimeter.

, the time when almost all of the staff are for sure already home. I returned the books I borrowed in their respective areas before I bolted out of the library to go to the principal’s office. I noticed that there are no students and teaching staff walking on the corridor anymore. When I reached the principal’s office, I wandered the whole area first before knocking on the door. “Come in! The door’s open.” A smirk played on my lips when I heard his voice. Damn, his deep voice is already enough to make my pussy wet. I did not waste any opportunity and immediately opened the door, and his eyes widened a fraction when he saw me.

From that gap spills breathless cold, sharp and sudden against the skin. A long time passed, yet that moment stays sharp - just one sentence from an old book returns it all. Back then, young Beatrice Sandoval almost didn’t make it out of the submerged room beneath her family’s icehouse. Water filled the space, fear took hold, never really left after that. Not leaving. Just somewhere out of sight. Somewhere she may pause before stepping in. I duck inside.

I check in with her often to make sure nothing is pinching or uncomfortable. I notice that her breathing has begun to quicken. There is an eroticism to Shibari that I adore. Women, more often than men, go into subspace as I'm casting. The scrape and pull of the ropes feels like a warm hug to many. Safe and secure, some women, if they are really in tune with their bodies, will actually orgasm without even being touched. That is always awkward when the Dom is nearby.

“You mean too complicated.” Their eyes locked. And for a moment, the room grew cold. Petra cleared her throat. “I’ll prepare the systems.” Alma said nothing. She turned and walked out. But her heart It screamed. Three Days Later, North Atlantic Ocean The submersible dropped beneath the waves like a bullet through velvet. Petra manned the sonar while Ezra stayed glued to the screen, watching for anything unusual. They were deep now. Deeper than satellites could track. Deeper than light could penetrate.

--- By nightfall, they reached the edge of the shelf. It rose from the sea like a jagged wall, cliffs of ancient ice glowing faintly under the aurora. Somewhere beneath it pulsed the ark—a complex alive with servers, tunnels, and something darker. Sophia felt the weight of it even without seeing. Like standing at the mouth of a giant that hadn’t yet noticed you. Eira guided them toward a narrow inlet, where ice thinned enough for the small submersible Raven had smuggled aboard. It was cramped, barely fitting four bodies and their gear, but it slipped beneath the surface like a blade.