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To anyone who feels like they have as many layers as an onion.
Most young women don’t imagine their bachelorette party at a swamp in the middle of bumfuck-no-where Florida.
I was a loser nobody, working as a waitress at The Clover, a semi-boujee restaurant in town.
He’s the heir of the mighty Dual-Lock home security empire, and it’s surprisingly a very profitable industry.
behind their backs will tear them apart like he’s Chef Gordon Ramsay and everyone is just an idiot sandwich.
The size of his little friend, though, let’s just say the rumors aren’t true about the correlation from hand to dick size. He has big hands.
I’ve got huge boobs, pornstar lips, and an ass that won’t quit.
Besides, I got a hot date with Buzz.
It can be rather lonely being the only seven-foot, green, hilarious, and gut-wrenchingly handsome creature around, but it’s a cross I bear.
Gardening is also a great hobby for me. It keeps me busy, and there’s something just so erotic about moving my fingers in such a way as to make sure each delicate seedling grows to its full potential.
I’m naked. My body is oiled, and I’m lying on satin sheets.
I’m waiting for him. I know he’s coming.
He starts at my feet, licking me with a tongue that feels too large to be human.
My parents would constantly forget me at school, the grocery store, my friend's house, you name it.
She has jet-black hair lying over her tanned skin.
“Listen, I know you’re freaked out. I’m a big scary ogre, and now I’ve kidnapped you and locked you in a cage. I know it doesn’t look good, but I promise I’m not going to hurt you. We’ll figure out what we can do in the morning, okay?”
Tonight, I’ll just defile her in my dreams.
The thought of any of them wanting to touch her makes my blood boil. She’s mine. I found her. Even if she only stays with me for a little bit.
“Human women do not like big green ogres with fangs or someone who’s half-man, half-horse. Fuck off, Donny.”
In one swift movement, I grab Donny by the throat and hold him up in the air. “Donny, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but we are not friends. Stay away from me and stay away from my prisoner, or it will be your eyeballs I’m munching on for my next meal. Touch her and die.”
Why do I want to burn down a city just at someone mentioning touching her?
I think the feminist gods will forgive me if I use a little seduction to get out of the clutches of an ogre.
Fuck that guy.
Operation Pussy-Trap,...
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Maybe I could even make her fall in love with me for being her hero.
She doesn’t seem like the type of girl to swoon over such basic decencies, such as not eating her, but maybe my good buddy Stockholm will help me out.
The first step: make her a delicious meal.
my dick’s a hard one to hide.
I’ve seen other creatures’ dicks around town in the springs. Mine is the biggest by far.
He’s a monster, for God’s sake, not even human, but I can’t deny he is handsome in a smug, annoying kind of way.
I knew his dick would be big. He’s seven feet tall and built like a boulder, but God… seeing that thing… imagining it deep inside me… I couldn’t help myself.
This is Operation Pussy-Trap, not Operation Stockholm Syndrome!
“Oh, I’m sorry did you want something? It sounds like you’ve got one of my body parts on your mind.”
Although, personally, I’d love to see just what his body could do to me.
He could break my neck without even exerting much energy, and for some odd reason, that turns me on. God, do I need a therapist
Maybe it’s the Stockholm Syndrome, maybe it’s something else, but I’m not sticking around to find out.
I know even if anyone can hear me, no one will come, but for some reason, knowing this excites me.
“You have two options. I can either let you go, or you can let me spread your legs open and lick your pussy until you’re begging me to fuck you.”
“That’s a good girl. Open up for me,”
“When you come, I want to hear you scream my name. I want all the nature around us and everyone in a hundred-mile radius to know you’re mine. You taste like mine.”
“I know I said I’d never eat a human again, but you taste so good. I’ll eat your pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“You will. You were made for me.”
“Fuck,” I yell as I climax inside of her, filling her up.
“No. I’ll just be sore. I’ve never been impaled by a monster dick before. It was top-notch, but yeah, I’m going to be sore.”
“Please don’t run away from me again. I can’t protect you if you leave,”
She can’t leave. She’s mine.
Now it feels like if I don’t have some part of Beck’s body inside of me every few hours, I will die.
Sis, you need therapy. This is not Stockholm Syndrome.
It’s his mission to defile me on every inch of his property.
“Aw, that’s so cute. Your Stockholm Syndrome has already developed only after a week.”
