Rapunzel Stuff Novels & Stories

“Here's the deal. Do that lawyer stuff that you do. Try to send me to jail.” “What?” I blinked. “I'm giving you a year, but in my territory. I'm not sending you back to the U.S, so better get used to Italy like you once lived.” “Excuse-” “But you'll have everything. Every resource. Impress me, show me why you're a top lawyer and get me locked up. Prove to everyone that I killed your parents.” “I'll send you to jail, even if it's the last thing I do, Roman. You're trying to ruin my life again, but this time I won't let you. You're finished.” “Now, the condition.” My eyes widened. Now a condition? “If you don't succeed, you won't ever have an opinion. You'll be my plaything, my pet, my personal slave, my cum bucket. You'll be whatever I want you to be, do you understand?” I felt instant chills ripple through me. “So that's what you want? To control me after killing my parents?” “Yes, exactly that. I want to humiliate you so badly, so better impress me and send me to jail, Gianna. Better do it.” His voice was thick with warning. No matter how much I desire him, I'll make sure he rots in jail. …… We don't always get what we want, Gianna. He killed her parents and she managed to escape the house fire. Years later and this invincible Mafia don gets arrested in the United States, and she's the top lawyer in charge of his case? Hmm, I wonder what happened next.

When Luca Moretti chose the jewelry for our wedding, he still bought two pieces and let my twin sister Bianca choose first. One was a ruby cuff from a Sicilian auction. The other was an off-the-rack black onyx bracelet, the kind sold in every mall jewelry store. For the first time, I reached before Bianca could. I pointed at the ruby cuff. "This time, can I choose first?" Luca set his palm on my head with the easy affection he used to make me behave. "Bianca has always been stubborn about quality. If it's not the best, she won't take it. You don't care about this stuff, Elena. The other piece isn't bad." I didn't answer right away. Something inside my chest went quiet. In my own family, Bianca always got the first slice, the clean seat, and the room with the view. My mother said she needed the best because she carried the Bellini name better. My father called it practical. Marriage worked that way too. The Bellinis and Morettis had promised one daughter to the Moretti heir long before either of us knew what love was. Everyone assumed that daughter would be Bianca. Instead, she made her position crystal clear: she'd rather keep her freedom and her spotless public image than become Mrs. Moretti. So Luca turned to the remaining Bellini daughter. I had known Luca for twenty years, and in his world, I always stood behind Bianca. I looked at the black onyx bracelet on the table and pushed it back. "Bianca can have both. I'm not choosing." I didn't want another leftover choice. Not anymore.

Noah Kline is the picture of daytime purity. He is a shy philosophy student who wears glasses and shrinks under Dr. Alexander Elliott's piercing gray stare during ethics lectures. His heart races as he imagines those commanding hands bending him over the podium. At night, he turns into Nyx, the club's dirtiest pole dancer. His body is oiled and shining, his hips grind against steel in a way that makes cocks throb below. He drops into a slow, dirty split that makes cocks throb below. With his thighs spread wide around the pole, he rolls his pelvis in wet, teasing circles. His thong is soaked and clinging to his leaking erection while men stuff hundreds into his garter and fingers graze his balls. When Noah needs money for school, he gets a private VIP gig. He climbs the pole in a tiny thong and a glittering harness. He bends back and slides his fingers inside the waistband to tease his own hole on stage, moaning softly as the crowd cheers. Then the lights catch a familiar face: Professor Elliott, coming out of the shadows, his suit clean and his eyes black with wild hunger. Elliott rushes onto the stage and slams Noah's chest against the cold pole. "Daytime little mouse can't meet my eyes," he growls, shoving his knee between Noah's thighs to rub against his sore cock. "But here you are, dripping and begging strangers to break this tight hole?" Rough hands pull the harness aside, and Elliott's fingers go between Noah's cheeks, circling his entrance before pushing two thick fingers inside and curling them to hit his prostate hard.

I loved eating cakes. My dad would bring me one every day after work, and my mom bought a full set of oven and baking tools, patiently learning how to bake them for me. I once thought I was the happiest little princess in the world until the day my parents divorced. The person who came to pick up my dad turned out to be the bakery owner. My mom turned to me, growling, "This is all your fault! If you hadn't asked for cakes every day, your dad never would've cheated!" She stretched out her hands, covered in burn scars, and screamed hysterically, "I slaved away making cakes for you, and these hands have never healed since. What did you do? You both think the stuff from outside is so much better!" She grabbed a baking sheet and smacked me hard with it. I bit my lip, not daring to make a sound. That night, she brought home a little girl. Ignoring the pain all over my body, I begged for her forgiveness. "Mom, I'm sorry. Please don't throw me away. I swear I'll never eat another cake!" She slapped me across the face, but that wasn't enough to quench her anger. She tossed me into the big oven. "I'm not your mom! You love cakes so much? Stay in there and reflect on what you've done! You and your worthless dad both deserve to die!" After she slammed the door and stormed out, the little girl skipped over to the oven, grinning smugly as she hit the switch. "From now on, your mom is gonna be mine!" The oven kicked on, and the temperature began to rise. I smiled bitterly. At least this way, my mom could finally be happy.

Alpha Darius Waller decides to accept Raven Snyder, the widowed mate of a dead warrior, into the manor we live in. This time, I don't scream at him, nor do I fight back against his decision. Instead, I just start packing my stuff together with my daughter, Rachel Waller. "It's difficult for Raven to raise her kid. We'll move out so that it's easier for you to care for them." On the day of Rachel's birthday, Darius gives her a training dagger that's meant for pups. Raven's son, Cole Booker, starts screaming and crying at the sight of the dagger. He insists on obtaining it and making it his. With red-rimmed eyes, Rachel hands the dagger over. "Daddy says that since Cole doesn't have a daddy anymore, he'll become Cole's daddy instead. "I'm the older one here, so I should let Cole have whatever he wants." Darius feels proud when he sees how generous and understanding we are. But he slowly realizes that I no longer get jealous of him, and that Rachel no longer needs him. After all, that wolf had personally cast us out of the pack territory for the sake of Raven and Cole in our past lives. It was winter at that time, so Rachel and I were tormented by endless coldness and hunger. But Darius had opted to give all of the resources the pack had to Raven and Cole. Rachel and I ended up dying in the blizzard from starvation and the cold in each other's arms. After we get reborn, I no longer fight for everything and anything. But at the same time, I no longer need my mate. I've already gotten reborn, so I will never fight for a wolf who doesn't deserve to be with me and Rachel.

Expect raw, graphic sex scenes with rough play, power dynamics, taboo elements (including step-family), group action, dominance/submission, risky/public settings, and plenty of filthy language. No gentle foreplay, no fade-to-black — just intense, unfiltered fucking. If hardcore stuff isn’t your thing, skip this one. In this collection, expect Highway Patrol Threesome — Two badass female cops pull over a smug driver late at night. The stop turns wild: he’s cuffed to the hood while they take turns riding him under flashing blue and red lights, trading filthy orders and sharing every drop. Step-Sister’s Late-Night Visit Built-up tension snaps when his teasing step-sister sneaks into his bed after midnight. She climbs on top; he flips her, pins her wrists, and fucks her rough against the headboard, trading dirty secrets they’ll both pretend to forget. Gym Locker Room Surrender The trainer catches a regular stretching alone after close. Door locked, he pins her to the lockers, hooks one leg over his shoulder, and pounds her standing until her screams bounce off the tiles and her legs give out. Secluded Beach Takeover— A bronzed stranger spots a woman sunbathing topless on a hidden shore. No chit-chat — he drops between her thighs, yanks the bikini aside, and fucks her right there on the towel with waves crashing nearby. Neighbor’s Midnight Intrusion The rough guy next door scales her balcony after dark and finds her waiting in lingerie. He tosses her on the bed, spreads her wide, and gives her slow, punishing strokes that rattle the headboard against the wall. And many more that will make you wet. Read if you are ready to cum harder than you ever have.

The day I won the eight-million-dollar East Harbor renovation bid, I handed the lead role to Grace Whitman, Ethan Hale’s childhood sweetheart. Ethan thought I had finally learned to be sensible. He happily told me he was taking me to the Maldives for our wedding anniversary. Grace found out that night. She pretended the pressure from work was too much and cried uncontrollably. Ethan panicked so badly that he canceled a board meeting, stayed with her for three days, then called our anniversary trip an emergency client visit and gave Grace the second ticket. When he called me, his tone was still calm, almost entitled. “Sofia, we can talk about emotional stuff later. The company comes first right now. Grace has never handled a project this big on her own. I need to be there with her.” “You’re my wife. You should understand.” I sat alone in our empty apartment and looked at the photo Grace had just posted. In the private airport lounge, Ethan had draped his jacket over her shoulders. Their knees almost touched. Her caption read, [Some people never have to say love. They just show up first, every time.] I didn’t question him. I didn’t cry. I only replied, [Okay.] Ethan probably thought I had finally learned my place. Satisfied, he promised that when he came back, he would give me an even better anniversary. What he didn’t know was that I had already submitted my resignation to Hale Creative. And he didn’t know that the document he had signed three days ago wasn’t a project authorization form. It was our divorce agreement. By the time he realized what he had lost, I was no longer Mrs. Hale. I was Sofia Bellandi again. And Bellandi women do not beg for seats at tables they built.

“You wear these little skirts… are you trying to seduce me?” His eyes dragged down my body. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about” Before I could finish, his hand slid up my thigh, fingers brushing beneath the edge of my skirt. My breath hitched. He shoved my panties aside and pressed two thick fingers inside me. “Ahh. . . Kelvin. .” My knees buckled against the sink as he started slow, then thrust rougher, stretching me with every push. “You like that, baby girl?” he whispered against my lips. “Yes… oh God, yes.” His mouth hovered over mine, stealing the sound of my moans before he spun me around to face the mirror. My own reflection stared back at me wide eyes, flushed cheeks while Kelvin loomed behind, his heat swallowing me whole. “Watch while I fuck you,” he growled, shoving down his zipper. The heavy length of him slammed into me in one rough stroke, knocking the air from my lungs. “F-fuck!” I cried out, gripping the sink for dear life. He yanked my hair back, forcing me to look at myself as he pounded into me. “Be my slut today.” Dripping Wet is a collection of straight-up filthy stories about raw, no-limits sex. Bodies crashing together in hard fucks. Holes stretched wide, throats used rough, sheets drenched in cum and sweat. Each one dives deep into pure hunger, cocks slamming in deep, pussies taking it hard, asses getting claimed with no mercy. All the taboo stuff you crave, laid out in brutal detail. No romance. No sweet talk. Just hard, wet, pounding sex that leaves you spent. This book isn't about love. It's about need and giving in until you're soaked.

I was a streamer famous for doing random, unhinged stuff online. And now the richest woman in Bayford wanted me to seduce her son. "Make my son fall for you. I'll give you ten properties. Houses, apartments, condos." For a second, even I thought, 'Okay, this is insane.' Marianne Jensen looked at me like I was her last hope. "Please. I'm out of options. Ever since he was little, I kept pretty girls around him. When he got older, I introduced him to every type of girl possible. But he's thirty now and has never dated anyone." Then she lowered her voice. "I think something's wrong with him. Like those billionaire guys in drama shorts. Maybe he only likes weird girls from the bad side of town." I just stared at her. Wow. Appreciate that. 'Did I just meet a crazy person?' I was about to say no when she shoved ten property deeds and a photo across the table. "Go seduce my son. If you pull it off, the ten properties are yours." I looked at the deeds, then the photo, and instantly decided to help this desperate but incredible mother. Forget something being wrong with him. Even if he liked men, I'd still make him fall for me. Thanks to Marianne pulling strings behind the scenes, I became the personal assistant to Jace Jensen, Bayford's golden boy. And the first thing he said when he saw me was, "How much did my mom pay you? I'll double it. Now get out." Two months later, the job was over, but Jace stood there with red eyes, crying. "How could you use me and throw me away? I don't care. You're taking responsibility for this."

On the night I add my new girlfriend, Celia Spencer, into my group chat with my friends, my college roommate, Kevin Wright, suddenly posts more than a dozen screenshots in the group chat. Those screenshots feature the fragments of daily life I occasionally post on my social media feed. "Now here's where things get confusing. We only earn thousands of dollars per month. Where on earth did you get your money from in order to live such a lavish life? "I've been holding my tongue for far too long. At first, I intended to protect your pride. But now that you're dating such a wonderful, beautiful, and rich woman, I don't have the heart to see her getting lied to." In the end, Kevin tags Celia in the group chat. His words are filled with regret and pain. "Ms. Spencer, you're a rich scion, so you might not know anything about the bottom feeders' tactics. A fake scion like Luke who has racked up a huge online debt and brands his social media feed to look rich is very common in society! You have to keep your eyes open, you know! Take care not to get tricked by scammers!" As I suppress my anger, I respond with, "I never stole nor robbed from others! What's wrong with me spending my own money?" Kevin quickly retaliates with a lengthy audio message. "Your own money, you say? Your net worth isn't enough to afford even one segment of that luxury wristwatch in the photo! Why are you still pretending to be rich?" I just laugh in response. Does Kevin really think that rich people don't wear cheap stuff? What he doesn't know is that Celia, the so-called rich and beautiful woman he's trying so hard to kiss up to, is actually just someone I've hired to play the part. I'm the actual scion here, whereas Celia is just a fake heiress.