Trunks Middle Finger Novels & Stories

In their world, women are nothing. Breeders. Sex objects. And slaves who slaughter themselves in the Arena for entertainment. Meanwhile, males are worshipped like gods— stronger, superior, untouchable to which women are expected to lower their heads, bury their faces in the dust, and obey. Ragna was born into that world too. The difference is… She refuses to kneel to anyone. And what begins as defiance turns into catastrophe when Ragna does the impossible: She kills a male. A feat so forbidden it shatters the foundation of their beliefs and the kingdom’s understanding of reality itself. Now the Arena fears her. The kingdom watches her. And the throne wants her broken. But Ragna is stubborn, reckless, sharp-tongued, and just chaotic enough to keep making things worse. Especially when a brutal prince with too much power and too many secrets becomes tangled in her path. In the aftermath, all hell breaks loose and things become bloody because betrayal is guaranteed, mercy is forbidden… and All is Fair in Love and Blood…

Three years after Alpha King Damien Caldwell marks me, Drake Whitaker finally remembers I exist. Turns out he really believes I'll "wait for him forever." Twenty black SUVs clog the private road into Ridgefield pack territory, trunks crammed with moonstone jewelry, old talismans, and rare herbs. Drake steps out of the tricked-out Hummer, wearing a smug smile and clutching a stack of parchment contracts. "Aria," he calls up, like some medieval knight, "I told you once the Silvermoon Coalition was official and Kenneth's supply lines were stable, I'd bring you to my pack. "The High Council finalized five packs yesterday. I came first thing this morning to show you I mean it." I sit in the upstairs study, watching a video Damien just sent of him playing with our son, then glance through the blinds at the ridiculous scene unfolding below. Drake lifts his face toward the second floor. "I know you're upset, but Kenneth controls the biggest timber in the Eastvale region. I had to mark Isabella. It was politics. You get that. Feelings don't need a mark anyway. I'll treat you better than a Luna." His words made my skin crawl. I pressed the intercom button on the desk. "Clear the drive. Tell security someone's trespassing." What a day! I've just taken my son to the medical center for his one-month checkup. Damien sends me back to Ridgefield pack for a week to rest. Instead, I get this mess on my doorstep.

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.

When I was reborn back on the day my sister and I chose our husbands, I discovered I could suddenly hear other people’s thoughts. On the surface, my sister Amelia looked shy and composed. However, the ecstatic voice in her head crashed straight into my ears. ‘This time, I’ll be the first to give birth to an heir!’ Then, without hesitation, she rushed to seduce the husband from my previous life—the man obsessed with sex who gave me triplets. Meanwhile, the cold, untouchable man who never even glanced at her in our last life was left to me. She thought she had won. After all, choosing the man with the stronger desire should make getting pregnant easier, right? I watched her excited figure disappear into the distance and slowly smiled. Amelia, this time, you can fall into hell all by yourself.

"Fuck!," she moans as my finger slides fully inside her, her body responding instantly. "More," Elisia demands, breathless. "Really?" I taunt her. "Beg. You know how this works, Elisia. I'm in control, not you." "I'm not begging you," she retorts, though her voice wavers. Without hesitation, I pull my finger out, leaving her aching for more. I begin teasing her, running my finger along her slit, knowing she'll eventually break. "I'm going to kill you," she growls. "Oh, really?" I mock, pulling my hand away entirely. She sighs, realizing I'm serious. "Theo, please," she whispers softly. "Not good enough," I say, sucking on her neck, leaving my marks. "Please, Theo, touch me," she whimpers, her voice more desperate as I bite into her skin. I stop and smirk against her neck, savoring her submission. I pull back, admiring her. She's a beautiful, needy mess, just for me. "Was that so hard, Sia?" I tease, enjoying the control I have over her. They were forced into a marriage, but fate had other plans. What started with resentment turned into something deeper. She wanted to hate him, but he replaced all her anger with tenderness. "It's hard to explain," I sigh. "I'll listen, baby," he whispers, resting his forehead against mine. "Just talk to me, please."

"Mr. Hill, I feel so itchy! My dad has already left, so hurry up and scratch my itch for me with your finger!" At the dining table, my friend, Leon Shaffer's daughter, Maya Shaffer, has had too many oysters, causing her hormones to go out of whack. As such, her libido has risen considerably. Maya is wearing a miniskirt at the moment. Right now, she's parting her legs in front of me, revealing her white panties seductively. I'm used to not feeling a woman's touch all year round. The sight of the young woman's most private parts makes my heart pound wildly and my blood sing in my ears. So, I respond by freeing my manhood from my zipper before wagging it at Maya. "There's nothing good about my finger! Why don't I use this willy of mine for the job?"

In a world ruled by criminals, civilians live a shit life. A cook gets shot to death for saving a man's life and gets an audience with God. "Civilians are humans too!" he complained. As compensation, God shoved him into the body of Zen Taro - the Taro Family’s useless third young master. Given the ability to learn at hyperspeed, Zen has to find a way to survive this crazy deathtrap of an academy. Armed with only his superior gaming, civilian common sense and cooking skills, watch him survive the crazy VR battle royale in true Zen Fashion. Status: Season 6 in 2024! Join my discord for updates.

I was always sick as a kid. My parents were desperate. They’d try anything. So they got me a bunch of "guardian angels." Next thing I know, I'm set up and tossed into a horror game. Turns out, Medusa is my godmother. The ghost girl? My childhood playmate. And the final boss, a vampire? He's my fiancé. The first time we met, I was in a blind panic. I tripped and fell right onto his chiseled chest. "Oh—I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking—" I gasped, looking up at him. The words tumbled out in a rush. "And you're really handsome—but I didn't mean to fall on you! I have a heart condition!" The boss let out a laugh. He wiped the blood from his hands and swept me up into his arms. "Don't you worry," he purred, his voice dangerously smooth. "As your fiancé, I promise... I'll fix you right up."

"Addison has been the sole provider for her siblings ever since their parents passed away. But in an unexpected turn of events—and after one too many drinks—she wakes up to find a ring on her finger and a god-like man beside her in bed. 'Hello there, my dear wife,' he says."

when her husband cheated with her stepsister on their anniversary... So she gave a call boy her wedding ring as a tip and had a ONS with him... him being the billionaire and the rival of her husband put a brand new diamond ring on her finger in public: "Don't lose it again, honey."