Trash Count Family Novels & Stories

“No,” she breathed, true panic seizing her. “Mark, don’t —” “This is for the mess,” he said, his voice devoid of all mercy. The cold, rounded end of the handle nudged against her soaked flesh. It was so much broader than a finger, impossibly foreign. “And for the defiance," he completed before he pushed the handle of the knife inside her pussy. The stretch was immediate and shocking. It wasn’t pain. It was a profound, overwhelming fullness. The metal was cool against her burning, clenching heat. A broken scream tore from her throat as he worked it deeper, inch by relentless inch, filling her in a way that was utterly degrading. It was violation given shape and weight. He seated it fully, the cool silver pressing against her deepest parts. He held it there, letting her feel the full, impossible intrusion. Her body fought it, spasming around the unyielding object, which only made the sensation more brutal, more specific. She was panting, her tears soaking the linen, her entire universe reduced to the cold metal splitting her open. “Now,” Mark said, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned over her. His hand remained on the handle, not moving it yet. “You will stay just like this. And you will finish your dinner.” ..... Enter a world of passion, pleasure, and desire with “Steamy Encounters."

Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots. Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents. Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all. Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly. "I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you. "If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck." Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love. But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once. On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again. I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me. Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle. When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

40 stories. 40 fantasies. 40 limits. Dive into a world where desire knows no boundaries and pleasure has no rules. This provocative collection features fourty standalone dark romance stories that explore the forbidden, the intense, and the utterly irresistible. From the mysterious masked stripper who reveals her true identity to the man who's been fantasizing about her for months, to the "therapeutic" massage that becomes anything but professional—each story delivers scorching heat, dominant heroes, and heroines who surrender to their deepest cravings. Inside this collection: A gym instructor who teaches more than just proper form A tattoo artist whose needle isn't the only thing that leaves a permanent mark A bus ride that becomes the most intense experience of a virgin's life A gardener who cultivates more than just the lawn A massage therapist with unconventional "treatment" methods And 37 more tales of obsession, possession, and raw, unfiltered passion Warning: These stories contain explicit sexual content, dominant alpha males, intense situations, and heroines who get exactly what they secretly crave. Each story is a standalone with a satisfying conclusion. Perfect for readers who love their romance dark, their heroes possessive, and their steam level set to scorching. Tags: Dark Romance, Explicit Content, Alpha Males, Forbidden Romance, Short Story Collection, Steamy Romance, Dominant Heroes

In a world where wealth and power dictates fate, Aria Luxen, the rightful successor to the Luxen enterprise, finds herself in a treacherous game of blackmail. With the weight of her father's legacy on her shoulders, she faces an impossible challenge: get married to Darren Maxwell or risk losing everything to her corrupt half-brother and scheming stepmother. Darren had an ulterior motive, a devious scheme to take away everything from Aria completely, including her inheritance. But deception burns like wildfire, because the man Aria thought she was married to had been living under the identity of someone he could’ve been mistaken for. Betrayed, cast out, and left to fend for herself, Aria was left with nothing on the streets. Her luck worsened when she discovered she was carrying a secret that could destroy her: a baby fathered by the man who ruined her. Years later, fate forces her back into the hands of the very man who destroyed her. But as secrets unravel and identities blur, one question remains: can love emerge from the ashes of betrayal or will vengeance consume them both? Driven by desperation and determination, would Aria rise back up to the top again from scratch?

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

Kalila had always been an outcast, bullied all her life. She died alongside her crush Apollo when Millicent, his jealous admirer, ran them down. But when she is reborn into the werewolf world with a chance to live again, she jumps at the opportunity. However, there is a catch: Kalila must complete a list of missions in ninety days, and the first is to protect the callous Alpha Ares from being poisoned. This sets Kalila on a path of danger, pack politics, and romance. She navigates the pack's inner workings, exposes traitors and conspiracies, and stops a rogue werewolf while trying to keep her true identity a secret. Along the way, she becomes torn between her loyalty to Ares and her growing feelings for the group leader plotting against him, Jahdiel. With danger lurking around every corner and love complicating everything, Kalila must complete her missions, save Ares, and choose between her loyalty and her desire.

It's my third day of being a ghost, and I feel like I'm going to starve to death again. The underworld messenger takes pity on me because I'm a child and secretly tells me that people like me, who suffered grievances and died with resentment, have to stay by the sides of the people who loved us most in life. Then, we survive on their "guilt". I lower my head and narrow my eyes. I choke up and say, "You might as well just leave me to starve." My mother hated me to the core. Why would she ever be guilty over my death?

My mother hated me, to the point that she wished I were dead. I knew I deserved to die. Sixteen years ago, if I hadn’t insisted on going out, my brother wouldn’t have died while trying to save me. Eventually, both of us got what we wished for. I got brain cancer. She had become a stranger to me as I forgot everything and went to die in blissful ignorance. Then, she went mad.

After connecting to a call hosted on a treasure-appraisal livestream, I find out that the "Fields of Freedom" stamp my grandpa has left me with is worth 10 million dollars. I've been troubled as to how I should afford my upcoming wedding with my girlfriend, Danielle Dalton. Delighted by the news, I call Danielle to tell her about it. Unexpectedly, Danielle, who's always such a prude about physical contact to the point that she refuses to let me kiss her, turns up on my doorstep that night. She spends the night draining me of my stamina with her skills and body. When I wake up once again, both Danielle and my stamp are gone. I visit Danielle's home to get my stamp back. But her father instantly shoves me out of the door angrily. "We don't welcome you here! Get lost right now!" At first, I thought there was a misunderstanding between us, so I still held back on my rudeness. But when I notice how rude Danielle's father is being to me, I decide to go all out on him. "Sure, I can leave, but you must return the stamp Danielle has stolen from me—" Before I can finish speaking, someone has dumped a bucket of ice-cold water onto my face. It turns out that the culprit is Danielle's mother. As she carries the bucket, she scowls at me, her features completely twisted. "Who the hell did you claim to have stolen your stamp, huh? Don't you dare run your mouth without any proof! I'll definitely sue you, you know!" Having realized how vile Danielle's parents actually are, I can't help but feel a strong hint of relief. Thank goodness I had only shown Danielle a fake copy of the stamp last night.

Mom has extreme mania. Dad was murdered when I was eight, and I went blind while trying to save Mom. I became her only family and weakness. Anyone who makes fun of me for being blind has their eyes gouged out; anyone who disrespects me is sliced and diced before being fed to the dogs. Later, Mom turns into a she-devil with a hundred-billion-dollar net worth. Everyone in Gristport fears her, but she treats me like a princess. The whole city knows not to offend Eleanor Heinrich's daughter. She scours the world for the best optometrists to treat my eyes. On the day I regain my vision, I hear about Mom finding her birth daughter. She says, "You'll soon have a sister who loves you very much, Sienna." I hear that my sister has been through a lot since childhood and is introverted. I prepare many gifts for her, even wanting to give her the pendant Dad gave me. Yet she instructs her people to take me to a deserted roof. "You're nothing but a faker who stole my place in life! I'm going to slice your tongue—let's see how you can continue lying to Mom when you can't speak!" She shatters the pendant, gouges my eyeballs out, slashes my tongue, and has several men torment me to death. Lastly, she includes my eyeballs as decorations in a bouquet and brings it to Mom. "This is a gift I've prepared for your birthday, Mom. Do you like it?"