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Tiny Rhea My Own Personal Freek

The Undead's Personal Slave

Samantha never expected to find magic in her hometown, let alone in a dimly lit bar on a rainy Tuesday night. Yet here she was, perched on a barstool at the Black Swan, her world about to tilt on its axis. The air thrummed with an otherworldly energy she couldn't quite place. Ethereal dancers moved like smoke across the floor, their bodies fluid and mesmerizing. As Samantha nursed her drink, she felt the weight of curious stares prickling her skin. That's when she saw him. Marcus. A name she didn't know yet, but one that would soon be etched into her very soul. Their eyes locked across the crowded room, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat. He moved with predatory grace, all lean muscle and barely restrained power. Their first interaction was as intoxicating as it was bewildering. One moment, he was her gallant protector, rescuing her from an overly aggressive drunk. The next, his eyes hardened to chips of ice as he snarled, "Stupid girl," before melting into the shadows. Samantha's mind reeled, but her body hummed with an excitement she couldn't explain. Little did she know, this encounter was merely the first step into a world beyond her wildest fantasies – a realm where vampires ruled the night and pain blurred exquisitely with pleasure. As she delved deeper into this hidden society, Samantha found herself drawn to the intoxicating blend of power, submission, and supernatural allure. The crack of a whip, the whisper of leather, the exquisite sting of fangs – each sensation pushed her boundaries and ignited desires she never knew existed. But with every ecstatic high came the sobering reality of danger. Vampire politics were as deadly as they were intricate, and Samantha soon realized she was a pawn in a game where the stakes were life, death, and eternal servitude. As she left the Black Swan that night, Samantha couldn't shake the feeling that she stood on the precipice of something life-changing. She had no idea how right she was, or how deeply she would fall into a passionate, dangerous dance with forces beyond her imagination. The real question was: in this world where pleasure and peril intertwined so intimately, would she emerge empowered... or lose herself completely?
rach_sales · 115.8K Views

Four Split Personalities

Battling an unusual form of personality dissociation, Motan admits to feeling the weight of immense pressure bearing down on him. Amidst this turmoil, he finds solace in a virtual escape called "The Realm of Innocence," a game that has become his sanctuary from stress. In the realm where ambiguity reigns, Motan's behavior is unpredictable and impetuous, making him the instigator and mastermind behind myriad events that spiral out of control. Yet, within the sphere of virtue, his resilience and courage shine through, earning him the admiration of many who see him as the epitome of a righteous knight and a fair judge. When dwelling in the balance of absolute neutrality, he adopts a demeanor of modesty and lethargy, mirroring the ordinary essence of every soul. Conversely, in the domain of chaotic evil, he transforms into a figure of madness and cruelty, embodying the very essence of a demon and deceiver, showing kindness only to himself. "Tan Mo is the most extraordinary Bard I have ever encountered, though he is... perplexing, to say the least," comments Countess Leisha, reflecting on his complex nature. "Mor is a man of distinguished integrity! Having met him just once, I am convinced that he is someone one can confidently turn their back to," declares Gwen, the leader of the Rose Rot, acknowledging his noble character. "If you're in search of the ideal neighbor, look no further than Hei Fan," recommends Alchemist Luna, suggesting his suitability for companionship. Yet, amidst these varied testimonies, a warning resonates, "Don't talk about that man!" indicating a mysterious, perhaps darker aspect of his persona that remains unexplored.
Micro-leaf Paulownia · 360.3K Views

DEATH'S OWN

Born with an unusual birthmark, the shape of a skeleton’s head with rose patterns round about it on her neck, many believed she would only bring bad luck to those around her. This belief was solidified when two of her suitors died unexpectedly right after a visit to her home. Such a thing should come as a bother to any woman but the same could not be said about Nyx. She didn't care if the beliefs about her were true or false. She never liked any of her suitors. Her heart had always been longing for a certain man whom she was very familiar with in her childhood but ceased to appear before her the moment she entered adolescence. Since she knew him one thing was very certain about him, he was not human since he never aged. Not even once. Believing he would one day come again, Nyx was prepared to wait until the day they would meet again. But not everything goes as planned. Having a sickly mother whose only wish was to see her daughter get married and an influential suitor who didn't mind the deaths around her, Nyx soon found herself married off and her mother passed away leaving a father who dreaded her existence and a husband she never loved. **** From a distance he watched her grow, keeping his distance from her, staying within the shadows. As she aged slowly into adulthood, the mark on her neck became more prominent and so was her scent. He wanted her to grow, but when she finally came of age, he thought she would be better without him. But as time wore on and other men began to show interest in her, he could not hold back nor could he let them have her. He discarded those who had an interest in her but one of them slipped through his fingers while he was away and took her. He waited to see if she was happy with her life, with that man, if she was, then he would let her be. She would be able to live a happy life this time unlike the previous one, but everything changed when the forces from the underworld learned of her existence and her connection with him. Her husband was killed which he permitted and her life was in constant danger. Keeping the distance was no longer an option and he once again appeared before her.
Blessing_O · 64.9K Views

owned

In the first year after being sold off, you were lucky to have been placed with a wise cellmate. Although she was only 1 and a half years older, she had been here for a very long time. If not for her you would have ended up in the pile of bodies at the back of the farthest confinement unit long before you were able to be sold. After only 2 months with your new friend, her time to be sold off had come. She came to the cell excitedly, to fetch her belongings before finally bidding her goodbyes. Her belongings consisted of nothing, she had only used that as an excuse to come back and tell her little cellmate the exciting news. "He's so handsome and tall. He looked at me with eyes full of intrigue and passion!" Exclaimed Joelle, her cellmate. "I knew the day would come, he is a kind man as to even let me make one last trip down here, don't worry, Evalie. Someday, you will be bought and taken away from all of this by a handsome prince just like me. But for now, just hold tight and keep doing as I've taught you over this past few moons, I will always remember you, my evalie. Stay safe princess."those were the last sane words you ever heard come out of joelle's mouth. After only a mere month with the "handsome prince" Joelle was returned to the establishment, only the person that returned was but a mere shell of what her Joelle was before she left. The girl was only 16, but just in the course of a few moons, she had all the life and will to live sucked out of her. That man not only stomped one girls dream to be saved by a Prince Charming but it was actually two girls who had their hope extinguished and soaked in an endless flow of cold harsh water. Unfortunately that was the harsh truth slaves had to face. Wether you become a simple servant, to even a torture doll for your master to take out his frustrations on, you are a slave. That is your place. You must know it and abide by it, always, forever.
Grievingfairydust · 601 Views
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