The Brutal Telling Novels & Stories

“I will talk, just tell me what you want to know? He cried while holding his stomach, it felt like he had been pierced with a sharp knife. But how could a simple punch which he had gotten used to feel that painful?” “Apart from being a cheap thief you are also a rapist. I am going to count up to 5 and if you haven’t started talking about the event two years ago. You will receive double of the pain you have experienced just now. I am guessing that the pain was unbearable, imagine if there was more.” He nodded his head and started blubbing incoherent things that couldn’t t be understood well. He was panicking, he was a small time criminal but never in his life did he ever meet such ruthless p

He had no intention to play nice and had cuffed her legs up against the bed frame and fucked her for long minutes refusing to give her any breathing space. The blonde head panted and wailed at the excessive pain she felt from his brutal penetration. “Oh...plea...please." She managed to say, as her entire body bobbed up and down at the action. She wasn’t him to be this cruel when he had suggested using the cuffs.

His voice cracked at the end, his emotions threatening to consume him. No one answered. Brayden saw red. Without a second thought, he pulled another man forward, grabbed a knife, and drove it into his shoulder. Screams filled the room. Blood splattered on the floor. “Tell me,” he whispered, his voice trembling, “who did it?” Still, silence. Brayden lost control. He killed some of them on the spot, his anger reaching a boiling point. He tortured others, extracting every ounce of pain he could.

The next hour is the worst of my life. Bruno pushes me to the edges of my pain tolerance, and while he doesn’t do any real damage that can’t’ be fixed – he doesn’t break my bones, or cut off my fingers, or knock out my teeth – the collection of bruises on my face, and my arms, and my torso are testament to the proficiency with which he questions me. I answer every question that is laid out for me, confess my whole life to them. As the questions pass I spit out the answers, not letting myself try to be clever, not holding anything back.

He slammed the phone shut, fury twisting his face. “Whoever brings her down gets five million!” The remaining men roared with excitement, blades gleaming. Briella tore a strip from her shirt and wrapped her bleeding leg. Blood smeared her hands—crimson against ivory. The contrast was stunning. But in her eyes? There was no fear. Only fire. ***

I can't take any more of it so I look away but the one of the guards behind me, holds me by my chin and turns my face back to watch with force. I've never felt so terrified in my life as I watch Felix takes the kitchen knife he picked and stabs it through the neck of the last man and the man does immediately as blood drips from his mouth too. When they're all done, they all stare at the bodies on the floor and Krystal kicks one. “Let this be a lesson, no one messes with the alpha” she says and with that, they begin to come towards me with their bloodied bodies. So I begin to yell at them to stop but they don't.

I grabbed the hot iron that the warriors prepared and pressed it hard on his face and he screamed in such much pain that thrilled me… his pain and scream sooth my anger. The pain was delivered exactly where it mattered most, with precision I’d perfected years ago. Pressure in joints. Twisting what shouldn’t twist. Strikes that didn’t bleed, but made grown wolves shriek. The kind of suffering that wasn’t quick, wasn’t loud, but crawled under the skin and stayed there. He broke first. They always do. “Stop stop stop,” he cried hoarsely, choking on his own breath. “I’ll talk. I’ll talk!” I released him just enough for him to suck in air.

And then end it with a click, of course. “That’s what Teeth told me,” he said, pacing, his arms crossed, his hands gripping his elbows. “That’s what she said . . . fucking bitch.” “I hear ya, man.” Brody, back to the window, dragged deep on another joint. “But she was right, though. Clay, Trent, man, fucking punk-ass, piece of shit pussies. Put you to shame, my man.” “Bro—” “Seriously! It was brutal.” He could hear his voice rising. He stopped. Took a breath.

Each sting hurt more than the previous one but still my body wanted more, my body craved for the harsh treatment. I could feel my orgasm but I clenched my teeth to ward it off, letting my mind revel in this brutal but beautiful treatment. “When you get home, tell your wife that the only way you can blow a load is to get wiped so hard on your cock till it spills” My body shivered… how did he know I had a wife? I didn't get the time to think when the final strike sent me over the edge. A strike so painful and brutal, I couldn't think hit so hard that my sperm burst out again and again.

At that moment, he wasn't a fighter; he was a merciless force, unchained and driven by something primal. Bruto lay there, a motionless and blood-soaked heap on the ring's floor. Vincenzo sat over him, and continued a relentless storm of stabs, each echoing the air with a sickening squelch. It was a cold-blooded replay of the brutality he'd unleashed on Francois at the peace agreement party. That was my first glimpse of him taking someone's life... and I knew it wouldn't be the last. The ring transformed into a macabre river of blood, spreading in every direction around him.