Tails Cry Novels & Stories

A year ago, a witch planted a curse on me. Afflicted with the Silver Moon disease, my life hung by a thread. At the risk of his life, Sebastian Garland, the Alpha and my boyfriend at the time, ventured into the deadly Dark Woods. He suffered for 99 days, braving countless dangers, just to bring back the antidote that could save my life. From that moment onward, I swore that no matter what kind of mistake he made, I would forgive him 99 times. Soon after my vow takes effect, Sebastian betrays me. He starts bringing back countless lovers to our home. "This is the reality of being a Luna. You should get used to it," he says to me. On the anniversary of our relationship, he brings back another lover. "Cassandra, Isabella doesn't have a gown she can wear to the party. Give her the one you wore on your wedding day," Sebastian heartlessly orders me. Despite believing that I've grown numb, when I hear those words, my heart still feels like it has been ripped apart. My voice trembles with rage as I cry out, "You can't keep hurting me however you like just because you think I'll bear with it! I won't put up with this forever. I'll break my bond with you!" All of the werewolves in the pack laugh hysterically, as if they have just been told the most ridiculous joke in the world. Sebastian's repeated humiliation of me has left me without a shred of dignity as his Luna. No one believes me. While eyeing me derisively, Sebastian says, "I'm sick of hearing that. It's even more nauseating than the moans you make in bed!" I close my eyes, allowing my tears to fall. This is the 96th time. Once he uses up all of his chances, it'll be the day I'll finally be free.

Shivering, I sobbed out, unable to speak, unable to move. "Shh, shh, now baby-girl, it's alright, you're safe, don't cry" he soothed, moving closer to me. "N-Noah, I w-want to go home," I sobbed, feeling weak from my inability to talk without stuttering. A gasp left my parted lips as his hand forcefully connected with my cheek, "You are home, so I don't want to hear that crap from you, okay?" shaking, I looked down at my feet, his gaze too menacing to hold. "I said, do you understand" he spit through clenched teeth, "y-yes, I'm sorry" I whispered, a new wave of tears making their appearance. "Good girl, now I need you to keep being a good girl, okay?" nodding, my eyes met his dark ones. His form towered over me, making me feel small and irrelevant. "Words, Embry!" He demanded as I stuttered out a quiet yes. I studied him cautiously as he walked towards the far end of the room, shuffling through drawers before stalking back towards me and crouching down. I sucked in a breath as I saw the knife in his hand, his face held a mischievous grin as it glinted in the light. "Now baby-girl, you see, as much as I hate to, you need to be punished, do you know why?" Warning! This story is for mature audience, it contains strong language, abuse, mature themes and sensitive topics. ___ He was her rock, her best friend, her first love. He became her worst nightmare, her tormentor, her captor She was his everything. His obsession. Their story should have ended with that court case, but he's found a way back to her, and he won't give her another opportunity to escape. Not this time.

I discover a helicopter in the estate three years after I'm transmigrated. My wife, Diana Snow, decides to drop the act after noticing my crippled legs. "Three years ago, you couldn't accept being my lover after I married Andrew," she says. "So, we trapped you here, tricking you into thinking that you had transmigrated. It seems that you've learned how to behave yourself after working as one of the household staff for three years." I have a hard time believing her words. The housekeeper of the estate tears her mask off and reveals her true identity—my sister, Beverly Graham. "Andrew's son is all grown up, so you can finally go home now, Connor," she says. "Your plan was absolutely flawless, Elise!" I slowly turn my head. The estate's doctor is smiling at me. "You were right the first time. I'm actually your childhood sweetheart, Elise Jefferson. I came up with this plan because I was worried that you would harass Andrew." I believe that I have been transmigrated for the past three years. I am beaten, trafficked, and tormented by countless people before Diana buys me and forces me to slave away in her estate. My legs are crippled, and I'm blind in one eye. In the beginning, I cry all day and all night about wanting to go home. Eventually, I become numb to my terrible life. It turns out that I didn't actually transmigrate. I suffer a complete mental breakdown. Seconds before I take my own life, strange words suddenly appear in my vision. "Congratulations to the male lead of this AI-written tragedy. Remaining time before you turn into a real person: Two days. "48:00:00. "47:59:59."

In the depths of her despair, her tear-stained eyes desperately tried to focus on the heartless figure before her. "I am not a mere plaything to be possessed," she whispered through trembling lips. "I am a person, with hopes and dreams that extend far beyond the confines of this marriage. I am... am a person with emotions." But he remained unmoved, his gaze cold and unsympathetic. "You are just a contract wife, bound to serve and fulfill my desires," he retorted, devoid of warmth or understanding. "Your aspirations are irrelevant. Your emotions, as long as they don't disrupt this façade of a marriage, are inconsequential..." His callousness only deepened her despair, and he reveled in it, wiping away her tears with cruel satisfaction. "Don't cry, my dear," he sneered. "You have years ahead to drown in regret and endure your punishments. You write about fairytales, don't you? Welcome to your Hell in Paradise, Wife." … ‘How and where had it all started?’ You might ask, dear distinguished reader. Well, it all began with money, as it so often does in Los Angeles, where a sinister game of romance and deceit unfolded when Sirena, a struggling romance author agreed to walk down the aisle with the egoistic heir of the prestigious Crown Dynasty. Three years. That was all or so she thought until an unexpected twist left her torn between the vague feelings she had for the cruel husband and the intense fairytale pang she felt with the mysterious ‘masked man’. Caught in a whirlwind of emotions, amidst lavish parties and extravagant soirées, Sirena finds herself entangled in a treacherous web of love and loyalty, where hidden agendas, forbidden desires, and deceptions threaten to take away her newfound love. Newfound love with whom? Even this Author is itching to find out.

He gave her pussy lips one last, long stroke, and then he moved one finger to her slick channel. He probed it carefully, moved in an inch, paused. When she whimpered and thrust her hips up, he slid in deeper, waited again. Good God, she was wet, and warm, and tight. She was perfect, and she was all his. When she opened her eyes and stared up at him, silently begging and pleading, that was when he added a second finger and slid home. Her whole body jerked in reaction, and both her cry and her eyes were wild. Fuck, yeah, his little hellcat was back – and he hoped he had the scratches to prove it later. **** Eight months ago, Warren “Derby” Kane took one wrong turn, and ended up trapped inside the Fallen Angels MC. Patched in, owned by the club president, and racing toward a dead end, Warren knows his life is already forfeit. What he doesn’t know is that the road he’s on is about to lead him to the one woman who could make it worth living... if she doesn’t hate him first. Six years ago, Shaylene Alcott clawed her way out of the Highway Hellions. So when she’s kidnapped by the Fallen Angels and locked in a remote cabin with Warren, her worst nightmare comes true. He’s everything she despises… or so she tells herself. Stranded together, Warren and Shay discover shared scars, shared rage, and one impossible truth: for the first time, they have a choice. Freedom. Each other. But choosing love means running forever – and the Fallen Angels don’t forgive. When the past comes hunting, will love be enough to keep them alive?

Strip now! you're my wife anyway" Harrison had said to Katherina as she fret over the chair she was sitting on. He was definitely not the man she had nursed till he got his memory back. He was now violent and over protective of her. "You are my wife Katherina, you are mine. You are mine alone!" Harrison roared slamming the flower vase down. "No Harrison. I am not your wife and I never was your wife. Give me breathing space Harrison....leave me alone!" Katherina said in voice so tiny as tears flowed from her eyes. It was evident she was tired of the whole drama already. Harrison sprawled to his kneels in front of her. He gently hugged her patting her hair softly and swiftly. "I'm sorry Rina, I'm sorry for making you cry, I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry....I'm sorry. Please give me another chance, please do not leave me alone all by myself. I love you....I love you so very much Rina" he wailed to her ear. "Harrison." "Swear by my name Rina, tell me you only love me and not my brother." Harrison cried holding her body firmly. He definitely was in pain as he uttered those words with great grievance. Katherina just watched him wretch in pain. "I do not love you Harrison, I do not!" She had said back to him throwing his hands off her. Had she made a wrong choice of staying with him? Was he showing her this side of his just to keep her to himself or was he getting a revenge on her for lying to him just to acquire his wealth?

Before it's our turn to get our marriage registered, I beam brightly as I scoot closer to Charles Scott for our commemorative photo-taking session. But he suddenly darts away from me for no reason. "I saw you when your team was in action yesterday." I freeze momentarily. "How is that even possible? This week is filled with secretive prostitution-busting campaigns…" Charles nods lightly. "When you led your team to inspect the venue next door, I was in the middle of pinning her against the wall while screwing her brains out. "She was so nervous that she shook even more than the first time we slept together. Later on, you were summoned to another place. Only then did she have the guts to keep moaning." After following Charles' line of sight, I find myself looking at the young woman, who's currently taking photos of us with her camera. That's when my mind buzzes loudly. It's Samantha Wood, the hostage whom my dad has taken seven stabs for just to save her in a kidnapping case. Just now, Samantha was all tears and snot as she swore to me, "Nat, if he dares hurt you in any way, I'll definitely exact revenge on him, even at the cost of my life!" Charles moves to shield Samantha from my gaze, though his tone remains gentle. "It's your choice now. Do you want to continue with the process? Or do you want to take some time off to cry your heart out, and we can do this another day?" I feel my blood turning to ice at that moment. The system's warning blares loudly in my mind. "Warning—you have failed in registering your marriage with the target. The eradication protocol will be activated soon. You now have a 48-hour countdown."

When I was seven, my constant vomiting got so bad that my mother took me to court and accused me of being born dangerous. If the charge stuck, I would be stripped of my family ties and sent straight to prison. Everyone said my mother was overreacting. "He's just a kid. Kids get sick. As his mother, you should be more understanding." But the moment the evidence was shown, the room went dead quiet. My mother had drunk herself into a stomach bleed just to land a contract, and the second she got home, I threw up all over it. The deal was voided, and she lost her job on the spot. On my sister, Ophelia Sowle's, birthday, I threw up all over her cake right in front of all her classmates. After that, she was shunned by everyone at school. She spiraled into depression and even slashed her wrists. It didn't matter where I was, at the dinner table or under the covers. I could start vomiting at any moment. My mother and Ophelia had to clean me up more than 30 times a day. It wore them down to the breaking point. What infuriated them the most was that every time I finished throwing up, I would look at them and laugh, as if I was mocking them. The judge brought the gavel down and declared me guilty of being born bad. Ophelia's eyes turned red as she cried, saying she couldn't bear to lose me. I didn't cry or fight it. I accepted the verdict. But I requested that the judge watch my memories first. The judge looked stunned. "Memory extraction means drilling into your brain. The pain is unbearable. Are you sure?" I nodded without hesitation. But Ophelia suddenly panicked. "I don't agree!"

Vera fought for her life in the apocalypse for ten years. Ten brutal years left her disfigured, hungry, and almost broken, but she still clawed her way through it. She killed zombies, ran from mutated animals, starved, bled, and learned humans were often more dangerous than monsters. Then her brother, the only family she had left, betrayed her. Vera thought death had finally come. Instead, she woke up inside a trashy book she once read to stay sane while the old world fell apart. A book with a twisted plot and too much drama. And because her luck had always been terrible, Vera did not wake up as the heroine. No, of course not. Her second chance was to become the hated second female lead, pregnant, unwanted, and written to die when the plot no longer needed her. Her babies were supposed to die too. Even the three men who got her pregnant were written as future corpses, all to push the story toward spoiled women and one psychotic male lead. But Vera was not the woman from the book. She had survived one ruined world. She had not walked through radioactive rain and eaten mutated food just to cry over fantasy characters or beg for love inside a stupid plot. So Vera adapted. She accepted her punishment, took her three unborn babies, and left for the garbage center without making a scene. Everyone thought she had been thrown away. Vera saw a chance to make money, protect her babies, and build something of her own. Now the woman meant to disappear is building a wasteland empire, breaking the plot, and driving three men insane because she no longer chases anyone. By every rule in that world, Vera should be dead. But dying a second time was never an option.

18+[Mature content] “Listen to you,” he murmurs against my ear, two fingers slipping through my folds without entering, just spreading the wetness up to my clit and circling slow. “Soaked for me. You’ve been like this all day, haven’t you? I whimper, pushing back against him, feeling the thick, length of him hot against my ass. He chuckles, dark and wicked. “Greedy girl you want your step-uncle’s cock again?” “Yes,” I gasp. “Please—” He pulls his fingers away and I cry out at the loss, but then he’s gripping my hips, tilting me just right, and sliding into me in one slow, relentless push. “Fuck, Mabel,” he groans. “This pussy was made for me.”Then he starts moving hard, filthy strokes that shove me up the mattress, the tie around my wrists pulling tight. “Come on my cock,” he growls. “Show me how much you love being fucked by the one man you’re never supposed to want.” I screamed whiles he keeps pounding through it, snarling filthy praise in my ear. “That’s it milk me, baby… gonna fill you up again so you feel me every time you sit down tomorrow…” He slams deep one last time and comes with my name on his tongue, pulsing hot inside me until it’s dripping down my thighs. He unties me slowly, pulls off the blindfold and kisses me soft and deep while I’m still shaking around him. ** After her boyfriend dumped her, calling her a “buzzkill” in bed, her best friend swore by a new doctor in town (turns out he’s the step-uncle she barely remembers, and everything changes).