Very Short Stories Novels & Stories

Maya’s heart hammered against her ribs as the heavy steel door clicked shut behind her. The invitation had cost her three grand and a favor from a source who owed her big. *The Vault* didn’t advertise. You got in because someone who mattered wanted you there—or because you were useful. Tonight she was both: freelance journalist chasing a story on the ultra-rich and their dirty little playgrounds.

“Just allowing momentary personality leaks.” “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She didn’t respond. But her smile, small, real, fleeting, was all the reply he needed. Later that evening, they played a game Joy called “Quickfire Honesty.” The rules were simple: ten random questions, ten seconds to answer each. No overthinking. Just say the first thing that comes to mind. “Favorite meal?” she asked, glancing at her watch to count down. “Anything with noodles,” Juda replied without hesitation.

One would think her humorous tales were just for laughs or to pad the word count, but by the conclusion, it became evident that she was laying out foreshadows throughout. While working on her first novel, "Mizzy" also wrote several short pieces, each around two thousand words, which she simultaneously published on ScribeSphere and shared on social media platforms. These bite-sized stories, light-hearted and humorous in tone, could be devoured in mere minutes. Their appeal was evident when they were repeatedly shared across platforms, gaining her a good number of followers. However, many read her short stories without noting the author behind them, completely unaware of "Mizzy."

Mainly just disputes between herds. As Eli moves in and out of me, I'm ready to explode. He still causes the same sparks and excitement he did when we first met. I melt into a puddle under him when I look into his grey eyes. As we reach our climax, he leans down to kiss me. No matter if you feel like you're the ugly duckling in a pond of swans or, in my case, the plain deer in a field of stallions, you control your destiny. Don't let anyone tell you you can't do something because of your size and who you are. We're all equal, even when others try to tell us otherwise. The End

I look you over, my eyes lingering on your body, assessing. A slow smirk plays on my lips as I lean against the desk, crossing my legs. “Hello yourself. You’re here for the writing job, aren’t you? Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes. Or maybe you’re just here to waste my time.” My gaze is intense, unblinking, as if I’m already deciding your fate. ( you hand over a file containing a CV and a short story ..it was an erotic story ,titled the hot kidnapper)

Short terrifying stories that leave you insomnolent . . . definitely a must read to while away time and get sleepless with fear, hahaha. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy! While you're at it, you can check out my other profile @KinahFeels.

The lecture hall was still buzzing with chatter as I gathered my books after the final class of the day. I was wearing one of my favorite outfits — a short, pleated skirt that showed off my long legs and a tight white blouse that hugged my full breasts, the top two buttons left undone so just a hint of cleavage peeked out. The bruise on my left nipple had faded to a faint mark, but every time the fabric brushed against it I remembered Daddy’s mouth and fingers claiming that same spot.

Hi, I will not say much. This is an erotic story that contains a mom/aunt/son. As you know, I write about Aunt/Mom’s stories. Please support me by reading my other stories, too. Also, you can support me on my P*****n: p*****n.com/laxu00 Story starts

Most of them were old, had a pregnant belly and were so short. The other sisters quickly scattered in the courtyard when they noticed him but stayed where I was staring at this wonderful specimen. God’s wonderful creation. I wasn't afraid of him. Why would I? When he told me stories from the outside world. About lights that never flicker off, cars that roar like lions, and women who wear revealing clothes to show off their breasts and ass. He always laughs at my curiosity when I ask him questions. “What does the beach smell like? “Do people really kiss on the street? “Do women outside have my body shape?”

“That’s rare around here. Everyone else just writes checks.” Adrian laughed. “Yeah, I noticed.” They stepped away from the crowd slightly, finding a quiet pocket near a window that looked over the garden. Eli leaned casually against the wall, swirling his wine. “So, what do you write?” “Articles mostly,” Adrian said, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Some short stories. Nothing glamorous. Magazines, online journals. You wouldn’t know any of them.” “Try me.” Adrian smiled, surprised by the interest. “I like peace and Quiet. Most of my stories are about small things. A town nobody’s heard of. A man who grows trees in his kitchen. Real stuff.”