Wicked Whisper Novels & Stories

Zen’s POV “You’re fucking kidding with this right? A real to god WEREWOLF,” I yelled out to Whisper as she ignored me pacing in front of me, speaking to no one with her hands flying up in the air. I watched her stop and look at the swirling air in front of her and a hand appeared grabbing her and she was gone. I moved towards it, but it vanished and a low baritone voice spoke from behind me, “who are you?”

The villagers, their eyes vacant and their spirits broken, seemed lost in the clutches of the whispers. Kairos, channeling his years of experience, ventured deeper into the village, the whispers slithering all around him. He could feel them, this new strain, latching onto his fears and anxieties, weaving them into a tapestry of despair. But Kairos was prepared. He used the whispers as a bridge, allowing them to flow through him, understanding their construction and their intent. Days turned into weeks as Kairos navigated the treacherous landscape of the whispers, learning their secrets. He discovered a chilling truth – this new strain wasn't just manipulative, it was parasitic. It fed off ne

he whispers and then kisses me. . c.m. louden

No reply. I whispered into the darkness “Who are you?”

she sighs “when I was passed out, I remember being in a complete darkness feeling a complete hollowness inside me like no other, and then I heard her voice coming from many directions as creepy whispers, saying ‘My sweet little sister...always sweet, always loved...always cute’ and I could feel the way she grimaced the last word... ‘My wedding gift comes with a bonus for your future offspring...’ came a whisper from my left. ‘don’t worry, no thanks needed though! Ha ha ha ha...!’ another one from my right. ‘Your firstborns’ mate will forever be with her, but never to touch...’ is heard from my left. ‘Never to hear...’ comes from behind. ‘Never to claim... ‘dark whispers surrounding me this t

Susan 's POV: Startled by the vivid dream, I'm abruptly jolted awake. The dampness between my legs serves as a tangible reminder of how my body responds to these forbidden fantasies. I can't shake his face from my mind—those captivating eyes, those lips that brought both pleasures and torment to my senses. "This is sheer madness," I whisper in despair, seeking solace in reciting the Lord's prayer. Waking up repeatedly due to these haunting dreams has become exhausting, and I long for a reprieve.

Wicked She had been so easy to find. Even without the tracker on her phone, I would have been able to manage it. All I had to do was follow the trail of lame-ass college boys with their dicks out. Not literally of course but it might as well have been. And one look at her showed me why they were gravitating around her. She was dressed like a damn stripper. A tiny pale pink top that dropped obscenely low in the front and had no back at all and a denim skirt that barely covered her ass.

WARNING!! This chapter contains explicit content meant for readers 18 and older. Reader discretion is advised, as this chapter may be disturbing. *** “Your wish is my command, baby girl,” Sebastian purred as he slapped the dildo against Isabella’s clit again before pulling it away, tossing it onto the bed, and spitting directly onto her pussy. Her walls clenched, her slick dripping even more as the warm spit slid down her folds. He leaned in and slid his tongue deep into her pussy while pinching her nipples to make them even harder, earning a loud whimper from Isabella.

The one holding me down suddenly whispered huskily into my ear, "We've been watching you two all night. You have the cutest asses and smiles in this place. I'm going to lick your tight little asshole until you're nice and wet with my spit, and then I'm going to fuck you, boy." Fuck! Triggered! These guys had me cold now. There was no way I would or could resist or argue now. I heard Anthony moaning from the darkness and guessed he was into this too. I heard more moans from the darkness followed by the guy with Anthony whispering, "That's it, boy, suck that hard cock."

A soft giggle. The telltale creak of Sienna’s door opening and closing. Ethan’s pulse drummed in his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his pillow against his face, desperate to drown out the sounds. But it was no use. His mind filled in the blanks, painting vivid pictures of what was happening just a few feet away. The rustle of clothing. A quiet murmur. A breathless moan.