The Scissoring Novels & Stories

The scissors came down clean. One stroke. No hesitation. The silk split along the blade like it had been waiting for permission. Seraphina set the scissors down without looking at them. Her fingers moved immediately to the edge of the cut…smoothing, reading the fall of the fabric the way a musician listens for a note slightly off-pitch. She lifted one corner by a fraction. Let it drop. Lifted it again. There.

“You heard him,” “He wants us to scissors.” I swallowed hard. My legs were still shaking. My clit was still throbbing from the way she licked me like I was her last meal. I could feel her fingers on my skin. Her breath. Her cum-soaked mouth. I was a mess, and she still wasn’t done. “Come here,” she murmured, spreading her thighs wider, her panties already discarded, her cunt glistening in the low light. “I’ll press your tits while we scissor. Let me feel your pussy on mine.”

The wound puckered, like a smile . that same damned smile . . . while underneath just a hint of bone gleamed white. In Scott’s other hand, blood-smeared scissors dangled from slack fingers. A soft fuzziness closed over him. Jesse kneeled there, breathing in the tangy, metallic scent of Scott’s blood, listening to flies buzz until his parents came home. ***

Her breath rapidly increased as her fear grew stronger by the minute. Fortunately, the man moved the tractor a bit forward. Though her body is lying straight on the floor, her hands stretched above her head, it’s much better than what she experienced earlier. The masked man then walks towards her holding a pair of scissors. He stared at her dark brown eyes, with a deranged look. His deep blue eyes felt like an endless void waiting to drown her. He tilted his head to the side, then sat on her chest. He stared at her while waving the scissors in front of her, and tilting his head from one side to the other, mockingly grinning at her. He held the cold metal scissors against her skin while movin

I grabbed the scissor from the drawer. "Bad move," He laughed at me. "Am I in trouble?" I slapped my head. I'm a brainless woman. What will I do with a scissor? "Yes, you are baby..." He laughed a lot and rushed to me grabbing my wrist. "Don't forget who I'm!" He reminded me while tightening his grip on my waist and my grip over the scissor loosened. The very next second, the scissor kissed the floor with a sound. "Think something, Sharanya..." My subconscious advised me and I was again pinned on the wall by him. Both hands were clothed by the beast.

A familiar scent fills her nostril. Eve push herself to sit on the edge of the bed. Her pulsating body cause her to moan with every movement. She felt her back throb the most. Feeling annoyed by how the wrap around her hand was straining her, she tears away the cloth and groaned at the long cuts on her arm. The cut is slowly healing itself with blood clot building itself on the line.

Ryan raised the chair in his hands, and with a swift motion, brought it down on me, his eyes cold as they met mine. I was paralyzed by the fear in my eyes, unable to move. "Ah!" The pain shot through me like a jolt of electricity, and I couldn't contain the blood-curdling scream that escaped my lips. My fingers were crushed instantly, mangled and bleeding, as I stared at them in disbelief. The physical pain, sharp and intense, barely compared to the crushing weight in my chest.

"You feel like you're floating, watching your body shake and cry on the floor... until they cut out half of your stomach." I looked at his suddenly pale face and asked in a soft voice, "How do you think I know all this so well?"

I refused to let up, pushing past the searing burn in my shoulder. Finally, one of the ethereal slashes connected, tearing a deep gash across the Scourge's torso. It shrieked—a sound of pure agony that was Cassius's signal. He exploded into motion, his blade a silver blur that severed one of the creature's legs in a single, powerful stroke.

Low, deliberate, and carrying the particular texture of amusement that immediately adds to my irritation. "A bit... exssstravagant, don't you think, Alpha?" I spin around. Scyla is leaning against the doorframe, her golden eyes glittering with a dark, dancing amusement. She flickers her tongue over her teeth, the sound a dry, reptilian hiss. “Scyla.” I snarl.