Our Stories
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Chapter One - First Crush "I'm going to cum. Fill me up!" The sultry female voice moaned out.The sounds of sex filled the one studio apartment in downtown Hollywood. His hand gripped his cock. Rubbing furiously he could feel his orgasm rising. Suddenly banging on the wall. He is about to crest. He can feel the orgasm about erupt out of him and a voice from the other side of the wall. "Stop watching porn and get a girl." "Fuck." He moans his cum spilling out and plastering his keyboard. Instead of hearing the sexy voice begging for his seed he heard his old hag of a neighbor. Sighing he turns it off and starts cleaning his keyboard. Looking up at …
Last reply by FinalFantasyDreamer , -
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The Selection The room smelled of cold stone and something older, copper, maybe, or the ghost of it. Isabella had spent most of her adult life inside vaults, archives, conservation labs, and climate-controlled storage where light, humidity, temperature, and human touch were treated as enemies. She knew the mineral chill of old stone and the smell of sealed wood and ancient paper. She knew what centuries did to leather, bone, linen, lacquer, and flesh. This room had the same stillness, but nothing here was being preserved. They'd been herded in at dusk, thirty three of them, including Isabella. Women in evening wear and women in whatever they'd been wearing when …
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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Being noticed I love this place: have done since first I came here, years back, as a young keen new researcher on her first field trip. A place of ice and fire: of storms and stillness; of surreal splendour and sulphurous stench. Hell is here, a few miles up the track: Viti, they call it - which means Hell - because in ancient times they thought hell was beneath the fires; and who can blame them, the boiling mud and the plumes of steam, the stink of sulphur and the treacherous yielding of the pumice crust do indeed make a hellscape. But Viti has a calm green pool at its centre now - the calm at the centre of the storm, perhaps - and that cool calm laying so still ove…
Last reply by Gangsta Moll Deactivated , -
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They say the magic won’t work if the skin doesn’t touch. That’s the first rule of the ritual, that the bodies must touch, must press, must merge in motion and breath, or the old powers won’t come. There can be no silk between them, no armor, not even linen. I was told this at thirteen, when they first told me what I was, that I’d been bred for a purpose. I was unlike anyone else. "You are of the Pale Line," they said, tracing the veins at my wrist like they could see the starlight in me. "When the time comes, your body will be called. You will answer. You will not be alone." I didn't think they meant him. He stands at the far end of the sanctum now, ba…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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The cabin lights had been dimmed to a soft, drowsy blue. Outside Seraphina’s window, an endless black ocean slid beneath the wing, pierced only by the steady green glow of the navigation light. The rhythmic thrum of the engines was a hypnotic lullaby most passengers had surrendered to, their necks crooked against neck pillows, mouths slightly open. Seraphina couldn’t sleep. A fizzy, electric alertness buzzed just beneath her skin. She traced a finger on the cold glass, marking an invisible path over the invisible sea below. A gentle bump of turbulence jostled the cabin. The woman in the middle seat, who had been dozing with a paperback open on her chest, startled awa…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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I randomly generated this list of characters from name generators, character generators, lists of motivations and quirks, and probably a few elements from deep within my own twisted mind. The list was made to provide random options for my latest writing challenge over in my Tell Me a Story group, but when I read down the list after making it I thought... hey, those 10 people should all be in a story together. This probably happened because I'm an idiot and can't stop my dumb brain from connecting everything it sees into stories and fictions and insanity. But my brain is already off and running... I tried to leave the wording as vague as possible but of course, my brain st…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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Author's Note: This is some really derivative stuff I'm writing right now, trying to make the words cooperate with my intent. I'm trying to make it sexy in an interesting way, but I don't know how it's going to turn out. So... read at your own risk, I guess. - - - - - - - - - - - The morning Lara left, the sky was the color of old bruises with grey clouds bleeding into the pale promise of dawn. She'd buried her mother beneath the crooked oak three weeks past, and the last of the goats had died two days ago, its body slick with the same black-veined sickness that had taken the rest. Nothing held her to the farm now but ghosts. She shouldered the worn leathe…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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Chapter One - The Easter Surprise Part 1 The apartment smelled like vanilla frosting and fresh lilies, with a hint of nervous sweat and cheap body spray. Bernadette LeClair, Bunny to friends, adjusted the ears on her head for the third time, trying to get the angle just right. Playful, but not crooked. Seductive, hopefully not cartoonish. The white satin choker at her throat itched slightly, but she didn’t touch it. She’d already smoothed the pink satin bows on the tops of her thigh-high stockings, fluffed the fuzzy cotton tail nestled just above her garter strap, and double-checked the clasp on the matching bra three times. Everything was coordinated, …
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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I won't lie, I definitely wrote a lot of poetry trying to channel Charles Bukowski... or at least that's what it looks like in hindsight. I know I read a lot of Bukowski back then, because he felt like home. I think at the time I was trying to mine my life for the words that would paint what I felt, and no other style of writing aside from confessional diary entries seemed to make anything stick. But like most poetry, everything I wrote was pretentious, filled with weak attempts to describe emotion and life with mere words, as if words alone could convey the smells, the textures, the feelings,...physical or emotional. They can't, but sometimes they suggest enough to …
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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When I first slid out of the cloning pod, I was raw, skin new and too smooth, lungs untested, joints trembling with their first movements. The fluid clung to me, viscous and warm, tinged pink by the nutrient gel and old blood that hadn’t been flushed from the system. I landed on cold metal. No one caught me. They watched, wrote notes, ticked boxes. They called me viable. That was the first word ever spoken about me. There were no introductions. No welcome. Just a plug slid into the jack at the base of my skull, a smooth, practiced motion, like plugging in a power cable. They didn’t warn me what was to come. The upload was instantaneous and unbearable. Every lang…
Last reply by WickedCadrach , -
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YIELD a story about a girl letting go and finding herself I. Introduction My freshman year was quiet, just me studying, practicing, and a handful of pretty forgettable boyfriends. I had a party girl roommate, Sharon, and when she was out, I was home studying. I slept when I could, sometimes on a couch down in the lounge when she decided to bring home some random guy to scream out the loudest orgasms in the world with in our tiny room. She was literally my polar opposite. I got along with sober Sharon just fine. She was fun, funny, and loved horror movies. We were close to the same size, and she borrowed my shoes too often for my liking, but she…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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As a GI stationed in Korea, I was unusual in that I had an American girlfriend; I'll call her Dorothy. Being unmarried, we officially had billets on post but lived together in a small apartment in the local ville. Winters in Korea back in the day could be a shock even to seasoned Northerners. There are large flat plains, and at the time there were few trees so nothing would disrupt the cold wind coming down from the mountains in the north. It cut through any amount of winter garb and chilled you to the bone. I was coming home on a Saturday evening after stopping at the barracks to shower and change into civvies, but the cold night and a sixteen-hour shift didn't leav…
Last reply by AJoeOfSubjectiveQuality Deactivated , -
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My date had been a disaster, hours getting ready and an Uber from my hotel wasted on another son of one of my mothers' friends. It wasn't that we didn't click. It was more that I despised him within minutes of meeting him, and for someone as accepting as me, it takes a special kind of douchebag to get there that fast. He was an egotistical windbag who talked so much about how fast his car was, how expensive his watch was, how great his job was, that I was positive he was compensating for the smallest penis ever. I knew I'd hear it from my mother, but while he was taking the third phone call on our date from another "bro", I excused myself to the ladies room, arranged an U…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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This is a story in many parts. It is a story that has run through my mind so many times over the years: autobiographical in the desires it portrays, though I am not at all reckless enough to give in to them. I hope you enjoy me. The Quiet Room I have been here so many times: stood here, pretending not to have come on purpose: not to know where I am; not to know what is behind the shabby facade; not to want to go in. I am pretending to check my phone, as I have so many times before: as if I have stopped here by chance and am on my way to somewhere else. I know what is inside, what sort of place it is, what they promise: though in truth I canno…
Last reply by Gangsta Moll Deactivated , -
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Darkness surrounds me. The vast silence of the empty void envelops my thoughts and dreams. I would shiver in the coldness of it all if I had a body but I feel nothing.Then at once a blinding light. Searing pain as I let out a silent scream into the void. With a start i bolt up, eyes flying open wide. My pulse beating hard as I pant and huff. My breath comes in ragged gasps. I roll over and look at the clock as it flashes 3am. I let out a groan as my body feels like it was hit by a truck. 'Why am I so tired.' I grumble to the early morning air. Another night of restless sleep and an early morning meeting to boot. I try to shake of the dream or whatever that was…
Last reply by FinalFantasyDreamer , -
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Night When the dreams won't come and the mind won't quiet. The thoughts come unending and doubt creeps in. Did I say it right or wrong? Is it me or is it others? Do I not hear the snickers, whispers, and words? When did the world learn this code, this movement, this way of being. I don't understand? Why didn't I? I toss and I turn. I doubt and I worry. I'm not good enough, others are better. The mind remembers all The memories come flooding - Mistake, Mistake, Mistake Failure, Failure, Failure Imposter - fake - charlatan Sleep comes when…
Last reply by FinalFantasyDreamer , -
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Is there anything that can beat a bland vibe of sunrise on a new week? A good vibe? A warm cup of coffee? Or tea? TV shows that aired today? A new video from your favorite channel? After all the shenanigan i've been through, i wish i can turn back time to cherish those corny moment before all of this happen... --- "Is this administrator office?" (21: 30) "It is, who might you be?" (21:30) "Dion Stuart, administrator of Audia Leaflet West Academy" (21:32) "I'm Elena, administrator of South Ashfield 16 Elementary school. Is there something i can help you with" …
Last reply by Elena Ichinomiya , -
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Hello there! I really enjoy writing short stories so this will be where I'll be posting them. They'll mostly be just one post, I think if I decide to write something longer, I'll mark the posts that belong together :). Feel free to let me know what you think and yeah, enjoy reading them :)! xo ❤️
Last reply by Somethingsomething , -
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Image credit: Monobe (pixiv) This user is blocked. [Hide messages] One week ago 10:03 AM blocked_user: Hey 10:12 AM You: How the hell are you messaging me? You're supposed to be in prison. blocked_user: Ha, I'm out now. Only 5 years, remember? 10:29 AM You: I have nothing to say to you. blocked_user: You sure about that? 11:00 AM blocked_user: I don't think that's true. You: The hell do you know? blocked_user: I know you more than you think. You: Like hell. blocked_user: I never left your mind. You: Fuck off, stop messaging me. blocked_user: You want me to stay. You: I said fuck…
Last reply by Aura , -
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Warning: The following story includes content that some may find disturbing. This story deals with such matters as human trafficking and nonconsensual sex. This story is entirely fictional, but if such topics still make you uncomfortable, do not read any further. It wasn't fair from the start. From before I even walked in the door, you already knew I'd be there. You knew what I was after. I have no idea how, but you knew... And you also knew there was nothing I could do to stop your plan. I stepped in fully expecting to take command. I'd practiced at poker all my life, I knew all the tricks and traps even the dirtiest casinos in the world were capable of pullin…
Last reply by Aura , -
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Maya had named it when she was fifteen, not out loud, not to anyone, just in her own head, a private little word for a private little problem. She had to name it, because "horny" didn't cover it, "in the mood" was a joke, and "high libido" sounded like something a doctor would say while looking at a chart. None of those words captured the thing that showed up in her body without warning and refused to leave until she did something about it. So she called it the hunger, because that's what it was. It wasn't desire, exactly. Desire was a mood. Desire was something you could set aside for later. The hunger was a state. It sat low in her belly like a second heartbea…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
Just for You
by Aura-
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When I first met you, you completely changed my perspective on who I was and the value I saw in my own body. Nobody had ever pushed me to love myself better than you. You came to me and loved me at a time when I couldn't even bear to look at myself. The way you picked me up, the way you held me in your arms, the way you squeezed me, looked into my eyes with your beautiful emerald ones and reassured me that even through my sweat and tears that I was still the beautiful little angel you fell in love with at the library... these moments must've lasted only a couple seconds but to me they played over and over endlessly. I loved you with all my heart. Every time I do…
Last reply by Aura , -
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(Did not mean to take such a long break but life gets messy. Here's an idea I had for a story that's been rattling around in my brain lately. It's still in the early planning stages but hopefully I can get it all fleshed out.) Chapter 1: A Witch and a Bar Cora sat in the dim bar. Slowly nursing her whiskey. Aware of the man watching her out of the corner of her amber eyes. She couldn't help smiling at herself as she gulped the burning liquid down her throat. Her pert DD bust barely contained in her white top. Her long dark hair flowing along her back. Acting like it had a mind of it's own. Her tight black pencil skirt covering her curves and leaving nothing to t…
Last reply by FinalFantasyDreamer , -
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It was his first time. Ever. The idea was always in the back of his mind. He always wondered what it was like, but always knew he'd never actually do it... besides, he didn't even know where to look for one in the first place... but one day, just by happenstance, he came across a post online. Someone asking where to find one. A glory hole. Apparently they were a lot more common than he'd ever thought. Sex shops. It seemed so obvious in hindsight, but... he wouldn't go to one. Ever. He'd never been. Besides, this was all just fantasy. It was just porn... it was a fetish and nothing more. But no matter how much he thought about it, the idea was so incredibly …
Last reply by Aura , -
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It's not quite 5 AM and The rain is through waiting. Only a mile in, I don't even slow. I'll be soaked, more than usual. It's fine. I drink a liter before I even lace my shoes, And feeling every inch of clothing Pasted to my body by sweat is not uncomfortable. Not to me. To you maybe. You'd prefer I came out of the box like this, No evidence of what it costs. Me too, honestly, But only sometimes. The feeling of my burning muscle Steaming in cool rain, makes me remember I came From mud. From swamp. From survivors Of fangs in the millennial darkness of naked epochs. I don't eat meat. I can't bear suffering. But I can smell it. And the …
Last reply by WickedCadrach ,
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