Unholy Player Novels & Stories

A male voice, that I didn’t know, asked. Looking up, I saw a male player, standing a few feet away. His character was a vampire, but he was wearing the armor of a Hunter. Hunters in this game were players that found pleasure in attacking other players for their gold pieces and items. Granted, only common items could be looted.

Malik Al-Mansoori swaggered towards us. He always referred to himself as the prodigal son because he was wayward and reckless in every way you could ever think of. Malik was just a few inches shorter than Jackson, with olive skin, curly dark brown hair, high cheekbones, and almond-shaped toffee brown eyes. Despite his recklessness, Malik was an information broker. He possessed a wealth of knowledge and insight.

I rolled my eyes. "He's been mind-wiped," Sagon told me. I grabbed Noah's hand and the amulet to return to hell. I shoved Noah at Lucifer and asked if Grace could change his metal work or any angel. "He's unholy and needs redemption in order to fight against Anna and get our baby girl," I growled. Noah looked at me and grinned. "We had sex and a kid?" I glared at him and told him, yes and we are also mates. His eyes got wide and so did his smile.

That arrogant, conflicted, shame-drenched little hot shit. But the payment was real. The session was locked in and the system flagged it as his first. First times are supposed to be handled delicately. That's why I was called. But I don't plan on being delicate. Not with him. I read the card again. Alias: Moranorebel Level: Starter pack Notes: First timer. Mask preferred. No safe words provided. Eish. Another rookie mistake. They all think they are ready until they are not. But this one?

It never did. The cell door opened. Inspector Jones walked in. He closed the door behind him. He looked at me sitting on the floor. “You asked to see me,” he said. I pushed myself up a little. My face was hot. I could not hide how hard I was. The outline was clear. “I need you to fuck me,” I said. My voice came out rough. “In the ass. Please.” He stared at me with furrowed brows. “What?” “The curse,” I said. “It makes me like this. If I do not get fucked I will stay like this for hours. It hurts. I already used a cleaning spell on myself. My ass is not dirty. You can check if you want. Just please do it.”

Some how, this fragrance evoked feelings of sensuality and hot coitus desires even though it felt wrong at the moment. ''In the name of the father, of the son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen!. father bless me for I have sinned..." she began almost as soon as she knelt at the other side of the dock. There she was, this penitent whose fragrance has taken the righteous servant of God to the forbidden memories of passion. How can the presence of a stranger do this much to a shepherd of the Lord's flock? Doubts of his credibility as a confessor grew within him. He had the authority to pardon and forgive sins but how could he do that at the moment when he needs to be pardoned too. Mortal sins! Nearly

He cleaned his shaft from base to tip, smearing Sarah's pussy juices and his own cum onto my clean hanky right in front of my eyes. "Here," He said, shoving the dirty hanky back into my hand. "Something to remember me by." He gave me a slight nudge on the shoulder, pushing me out of the room and then closing the door on my face. The last thing I saw was his cruel crooked smile while I stood holding the sticky, cum stained hanky in my hand. I had never felt more worthless in my entire life.

“Is he physical with you or Hope?” The more I listened, the more I could feel my heart begin to ache for him. Ethan wasn’t at all what I expected. The perfect, privileged, stuck-up player was just as fucked up as the rest of us.

He silently whispered to them. "How ugly." He triumphantly walked up to the launchpad, bumping into whatever and whoever, not necessarily caring. His eyebrow raised upon skimming through the board, smirking as he took notice of the Battle Royale. There were an array of teams joining, all in teams of six; apart from one. A lone player, with stats higher than anyone could imagine, though Uriel reckoned he could beat those 'weak numbers' in a few days. They go by the name of 'Blue', which already had Uriel convinced that that person was a twelve year old.

he look away, unable to explain himself. She glare. “If you don't want to play it, the don't! You dob't have to confuse people like myself!” He stunned, glance at her who the system called Player 9.9B. He didn't actually expect her to say such a thing. He forgot... He shouldn't have carried away. Yet he can't help it. “It's okay to you?” His hands form a fist. “It's okay to have this game where people-” He hardly remembering what happen to those players bathing their own blood, unidentified by the gruesome and gore.