Zahra Schreiber Nudes Novels & Stories

Her face is twisted with pleasure, her fingers tangled in his hair as she arches her back. Something about the sight awakens a demon I didn’t even know resided within me. And that was not all. There were all kinds of naked pictures of Soraya in different locations. Some of her in the pool, in the boardroom with men, and even in the bedroom—all with Khai touching her in filthy, unholy ways. My grip on the pictures tightens as I take in each and every one of them. The last of them? An invitation to the consummation feast he’s hosting next week.

It’ll work. — No, not enough, find me a woman in the same cell, I want an enraged one. A desperate one. Someone who has nothing left. Promise her that I will pay her debts. That she can have fun. Unleash herself. That she can make her swallow every word, every breath. — Got it, you want a hungry hyena. I can do that. — And I want the photo. Send it to me as soon as it's done. — Received.

Her throat was painfully clogged with tears. He pulled away, removing her trouser and his boxers, throwing them on the floor. He was stark naked. "Please no." He paid no heed to her begging and unhooked her bra, his mouth attacking on her chest. "You love that fucktard" he muttered, his tongue stroking at her sensitive area. "Tell me Zahra, has he touched you like this?" He said while kneading the other breast. "N..No..." she stuttered, embarrased and ashamed of herself. She was crying by now, her whole face was drenched with tears, her heart was shivering in her chest.

Her breath became unsteady. “No, I want to hear you say it.” “Yes...James...yes!” It was all I needed. I stood and quickly removed my shorts. Zira watched me with hooded eyes, which only fueled my desire. I ripped her nightgown into pieces, revealing her naked body to me. She instinctively tried to cover herself, but I grabbed her hands. “No, I want to see every beautiful part of you.”

She had gone through a lot these past few months and I didn't want anyone to use her to get to me. "What girl?" I asked, feigning ignorance. He shifted in his seat and slid a photo to me. Zahra was the woman in the picture, and she looked…beautiful. She let her hair down and wore a striped sky blue gown, with her hands on her waist as she smiled at the camera. "Don't worry about her…she's a mere plaything," I replied and I felt disgusted as those words left my mouth. She was the sweetest person ever and she cared for everyone but herself.

She’s the only one remotely capable of lethal force, and with these two imbeciles, I’m sure it would be all too easy. Zahra stands to one side of the mats and pulls off her oversized t-shirt, revealing a sports bra and leggings underneath. Something tightens in my stomach as I see her abs flexing with the movement. She moves with such casual confidence, it’s impossible not to admire her. Next, she gathers her hair into a high bun on the top of her head, her fingers deft and efficient.

She shrugged and walked away. Zehra was sitting in the living room with her laptop while her parents watched TV. She was searching for good universities for journalism, when a message popped up in Gmail Hangouts from Alphastar1. A: Terrorist Z: What is it with you and gmail? A: It was nice meeting you today. Z: Didn’t look so nice from where I was standing. A: Your vision was clouded with fear. Z: You wish. All I feel is contempt.

Hit send. And that was that. Until thirty seconds later, when my screen lit up again. Dr. Stacy Cole: Beth… I’m fairly certain that’s not the screenshot you meant to send me. My stomach dropped. “What?” I whispered, blinking at the screen. I opened the message chain. There—clear as day—was a high-resolution nude. My nude. Not raunchy. Not pornographic. Just… artistic lighting. Soft curves. A bedroom mirror moment I’d snapped weeks ago on a day I felt unusually hot.

Kabir eyed her hungrily as her pussy came into hisview; she was naked on his bed yet he could not touch her. He freed himself from his boxers and started to stroke himself looking at her pussy and body; Zoya felt so ashmed of herself; Kabir was pleasuring himself looking at her with that graze yet she could not do anything. Her tears fell on her boobs as Kabir came towards her. He kept his fingers on her chin and made her look at him, “now onwards you will wait naked for me on my bed, every damn night,” He said as he sucked the tears leaving her eyes.

I leave the altar and rush to grab one brochure from a nearby guest and open it. And my soul leaves my body. There I am on page one. Naked... everything on display. With another one of my side partners on top of me. My back, my tattoos, the curve of my body, all caught in perfect, high-resolution detail. Another photo depicts me in a hot tub with a pair of individuals from training camp, intoxicated, plus a blurred girl performing inappropriate actions within a public spa. My chest turns to ice. The next page is worse.