Tortured Freddy Novels & Stories

It was the only thing my body could do at the torture they were doing to me. ”Observe the first intake why the Freedom doesn’t seem to penetrate her. You need to get to her wolf.” No one spoke at the command of the scarred man who had been screaming commands since they started. But their reply was their obedience. I immediately felt the burning effects of the Freedom in my body. I could literally feel my veins burning. Scorching. “AAHHHHHH!” My throat screeched on its own. It was the only time I could gather much strength to make any noise. When I was in so much pain.

Nicholas asked worriedly, searching for anyone else in the cell. "No one. He was completely alone," the detective replied. "But his face is full of terror," Christian observed. “You're not real, and I'll get out of here, just you wait! And to teach you a lesson, I'll kill your beloved daughter and the monster growing inside her! What’s with that look on your face? Don’t like that? That’s how you’ll learn never to torment me again… What… No, no… Stay away from me… Ah…! I didn’t mean it! Ah… Help!” Frederick had backed himself into a corner of the cell, flailing his arms wildly as he screamed in terror.

Freddie responded with equal ferocity, thrusting his hips slightly, groaning deep. Meanwhile, April’s face twisted, and her jaw clenched slightly as she tried to look away, but just couldn’t. Freddie, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of Cindy. He gripped her by the waist, lifting her slightly before twisting her around until her ass pressed back against him. Cindy’s head fell back, a raw cry ripping from her throat.

A chilling memory surfaced for Frederick. Back in Motheca, he'd stumbled upon a horrifying scene. A group of thugs from a notorious organization savagely murdered young girls. Consumed by rage, his murderous persona had taken the wheel. When Frederick finally snapped back to reality, he was surrounded by a gruesome tableau of dismembered bodies. The incident left him deeply shaken. Thankfully, no innocent bystanders were present, or they wouldn't have stood a chance. Since then, Frederick had built an ironclad wall within himself, forcibly suppressing his murderous persona.

A few of them wanted to chase after me, but I had already driven off in my Porsche. Looking at their gloomy expressions, I knew they were about to pull out their trump card to force my hand. Through the surveillance, I saw that the wealthy woman had given them a new offer they could not refuse because of the recent attention. That was why they had to reconcile with me. Suddenly, a video titled, ‘Rich Bully Dylan Harrington Suspected of Being Gay!’ shot to the top of local trending topics that evening.

“Oh, you want to cum? You’re screaming and writhing so loud—you’re about to fucking cum?!” I’m a mess as he increases his pace. I’m going to come in the hardest way ever. I know it. I feel it. Seconds later, I come hard, my squirt splashing all over the table and his hands. “A perfect pussy that squirts,” he praises as he unsheathes his cock and impales me. I can’t breathe. His thick cock fills me in unimaginable ways. “You have tortured me enough, Frey… Today, I will eat until I cannot anymore.”

Frey's slap turned his face sideways and a red patch formed on his cheek. Instead of retaliating, the Duke licked his cracked lips and used the new head position to stare around his temporary holder, again at the tent. "Hey!" Agitated, Frey reached out, about to grab the hair of the kneeling man and make him notice him. He deserved a response for all the years of torture and forced service. Yet, something made him hesitate, and he only huffed. "Why do I feel like the bad guy now? No fun. It should be different."

“I’m coming for you, Freya.” Lightning split the sky. “And anyone who touched you…” His jaw tightened. “…is already dead.”

"Impossible!" Freddie let out a shriek like he had seen a ghost, eyes bulging out of their sockets. "Nothing's impossible. You've got tunnel vision. Just face it. You're old." Gideon's face twisted into a mocking grin. Being called old hit Freddie like a sledgehammer. It hurt more than any physical blow. It was a direct hit to the ego. "Ugh!" Freddie spat out a mouthful of blood. Gideon unclenched his fist and grabbed the Beast Supreme Bone Spur, ripping it away by force.

“What did you say?” Freddy was gorgeous, tall with a muscular build, and far too many tattoos for polite society. He had that bad boy vibe down to a science. Back in the day, he’d rebelled against his parent’s wishes, smoked far too much weed, and somehow ten years of his life slipped away. Now, at twenty-eight, Freddy was pulling his life together. Not only was he almost finished with his Bachelor of Science at the community college, but he’d also cut back on the weed and booze so he could help more at The Grind.