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A Trifecta Of Horror (Aaron Majewski)


A Trifecta Of Horror by Aaron Majewski

$1.75

Add To Cart

More By This Author

    • Not yet rated. Buy this book and be the first to rate it!

An anthology of three adult-based horror short stories:
The werewolf and the brain-eater.
A detective story.
The ooze.

A trifecta of darkly erotic horror stories delving into the furthest depths of human imagination, as nightmares feed on weak, helpless flesh.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 4 / 2010

No. words: 8719

Style: Dark Erotica -    Dark Secrets Erotica, Adult Horror Stories, Science Fiction Erotica

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  MS Word  PDF  MS Reader  Text  RTF  


Excerpt

Werewolf

Tim spread-eagled against the wall wrists and ankles shackled, leather straps across chest and belly pinning him to the wall, the muzzle hangs loose around his neck. Sondra, looking amused holds an open iron collar in her hand, the chain leads to a bolt in the wall.
“Just snap it around my neck Sondra, then I’ll tell you my secret,” Tim urged.
She replied gently, like she’s pleasing a child. “Okay Tim.”
She snapped the collar around his neck, stepped back standing in front of him; her hands clasped before her, eyes downcast, demure little smile on her face. “Does that make you happy Tim? Do you feel safe enough to tell me your secret now? I know I’m only a third year psychology student, but I’d love to have you explain just what goes through your mind when those shackles slip on.”
He shook his head making a disgusted sound. He looked at her imploringly. “Sondra please believe me, I’m a werewolf.”
Simply. “Oh well, that explains so much then.”
He groaned. “Please Sondra don’t just humor me, I’m a werewolf and I’m going to prove it to you. In a moment I’m going to ask you to throw open the shutters and let the moonlight in, then you’ll see.”
“Oh but I do believe you Tim, I’ve seen one or two in all my long centuries.

Detective

An older but classy hotel room. The Décor was dark brown wood paneling, and red: red carpet, heavy red damask window drapes, a dark vermilion bedspread. Made of silk, it would feel cool and soft on your skin, inviting comfort ridden slumber as it cradled you in its determined embrace. Wall scones light the room softly, the subdued lighting of a mortuary viewing room. The room however, is destroyed, signs of a vicious life or death struggle portrayed in every corner.
The bed sheets are tangled on the floor, furniture knocked askew as if violently heaved in an effort to keep some stalking predator back. The windows drapes have been torn down, to lie like a murdered bird, its broken wings askew, upon the floor. The room is splashed with blood. Arcs of it spread everywhere, but especially pooled on the bed. More blood covers the walls, the door, bloody handprints dot the headboard, the desperate grappling clasp of a man trying to pull himself upright. Through a doorway was a bathroom, the mirror smashed… blood everywhere.

Ooze

A dark basement room, stark cold concrete floor. A spotlight in the ceiling illuminated only the immediate surrounds, all else was lost in darkness and shadows. Steven in only white boxer shorts sat bound to an old plain wooden chair, thick strong wood, rough-hewn ladder-backed, the headrest rising just over his head. The chair was bolted to the concrete, thick leather straps with metal buckles restrained him at wrists elbows ankles and knees. Another pair of straps, one over his breast the other just above the waistband of his boxers; a strap over his forehead helped hold his head in place. He can thrash but not much. Electrodes were taped over his hart and belly, another clipped to a finger, lines trailing from them to: The Machine.
The Machine sat behind the chair, it looked cobbled together from spare\junkyard parts. The main body a waist high wheeled metal filing cabinet, drawers stripped away to leave a metal shell with platforms (the bottom of drawers left in). Bottommost a pair of computer towers linked together, lights blinked madly on them. Above were glass jars and plastic vats full of strange bubbling liquids trailing tubes and wires, plus empty jars with tubes as well. A monitor\keypad and trackball mouse were welded to the side, the monitor displaying bio readings. On top some type of iron lung style pump\ bellows squatted like a warty toad on a lily pad, waiting for prey to fly into range. It most resembled something a mad scientist might use in a bad movie from the seventies.
Tubes led off from The Machine to Steven, tubes trail under the legs of his boxers. Over his bellybutton poised a large nine-inch diameter glass vacuum tube, inside this hung a four-inch diameter second glass tube more centered over his button, inside it a syringe waited. Three tubes led into the vacuum tube, a thick one simply attached to the large tube, two smaller ones led off from the thick one and attached directly to the large bore syringe.
Tammy looks like a cross between a dominatrix and a mad scientist. Her hair let down shoulder length. Thigh-high shiny black leather boots, a lab coat buttoned to the neck, her breasts fight to pop the buttons. It goes down to her hips showing flashes of her red panties as she moves. She still had her glasses on, a clipboard in hand.


Keywords - click on word to search for more titles

horror  ooze  werewolf  tentacled  brain eater  

Author Information

To follow

 

Publisher Information

Publishers of non-adult and adult fiction. Authors, experienced and new are welcome. We have a number of different sites for various genres, including specialist sites for Romance (www.a1romancestories.com, our non-adult and erotica site at www.fiction4all.com and a number of adult sites based around our main site at www.a1adultebooks.com

Twitter

HOT BOOKS TODAY

Sales levels (discs numbered 1 to 5)
apply to sales in the first 28 days
on our own sites.

sales level 0

1.  The Flagellation Of Miss Faust - Michaela Francis

sales level 0

2.  Hot In The City - Argus

sales level 0

3.  Exhibitionist Kate - Alexis Alexandra

sales level 0

4.  The Secret Sex Room - Thomas Handover

sales level 0

5.  Sissy Feminization - Controlling His Life - Scarlett Steele

sales level 0

6.  Surrender - Traci Wilde

sales level 0

7.  Feminized Sissy Husband’s Cross Dressing Experience - Gisele Lily

sales level 0

8.  The Werewolf And The College Girl - Argus

sales level 0

9.  Irontown 1 - Adriana Arden

sales level 1

10.  The Glass Harem - Adriana Arden

Recent Best Sellers

1.  Wicked Wanda - Shooter3704

2.  Exam Day - Honey West

3.  Down Bitch - Sara Babyac

4.  The Leasing of Lindsay - Erik D. Astor

5.  A Black Man's Guide to Sexing White Wives - Erik D. Astor

6.  SEAL the Deal - Shooter3704

7.  The Legend Of Marshal Jim Witt - Shooter3704

8.  The Vice Principal's Discipline - Argus

9.  Her Eighteenth Birthday - Adam Jepsrock

10.  10 Dates For My Wife - Erik D. Astor

11.  The Widows of Dracula - Anara Delight

12.  The Stroll - Shooter3704

13.  Dark Science - Debbie Durschka

14.  The Interview - Argus

15.  Wild In Wyoming - Argus

16.  The Dream - Shooter3704

17.  Party-hardy - Shooter3704

18.  The Making of a Whore - Shooter3704

19.  The Wolf Girl - Argus

20.  Gordy - Shooter3704

A Trifecta Of Horror (Aaron Majewski)


A Trifecta Of Horror by Aaron Majewski

$1.75

Add To Cart

More By This Author

    • Not yet rated. Buy this book and be the first to rate it!

An anthology of three adult-based horror short stories:
The werewolf and the brain-eater.
A detective story.
The ooze.

A trifecta of darkly erotic horror stories delving into the furthest depths of human imagination, as nightmares feed on weak, helpless flesh.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 4 / 2010

No. words: 8719

Style: Dark Erotica -    Dark Secrets Erotica, Adult Horror Stories, Science Fiction Erotica

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  MS Word  PDF  MS Reader  Text  RTF  


Excerpt

Werewolf

Tim spread-eagled against the wall wrists and ankles shackled, leather straps across chest and belly pinning him to the wall, the muzzle hangs loose around his neck. Sondra, looking amused holds an open iron collar in her hand, the chain leads to a bolt in the wall.
“Just snap it around my neck Sondra, then I’ll tell you my secret,” Tim urged.
She replied gently, like she’s pleasing a child. “Okay Tim.”
She snapped the collar around his neck, stepped back standing in front of him; her hands clasped before her, eyes downcast, demure little smile on her face. “Does that make you happy Tim? Do you feel safe enough to tell me your secret now? I know I’m only a third year psychology student, but I’d love to have you explain just what goes through your mind when those shackles slip on.”
He shook his head making a disgusted sound. He looked at her imploringly. “Sondra please believe me, I’m a werewolf.”
Simply. “Oh well, that explains so much then.”
He groaned. “Please Sondra don’t just humor me, I’m a werewolf and I’m going to prove it to you. In a moment I’m going to ask you to throw open the shutters and let the moonlight in, then you’ll see.”
“Oh but I do believe you Tim, I’ve seen one or two in all my long centuries.

Detective

An older but classy hotel room. The Décor was dark brown wood paneling, and red: red carpet, heavy red damask window drapes, a dark vermilion bedspread. Made of silk, it would feel cool and soft on your skin, inviting comfort ridden slumber as it cradled you in its determined embrace. Wall scones light the room softly, the subdued lighting of a mortuary viewing room. The room however, is destroyed, signs of a vicious life or death struggle portrayed in every corner.
The bed sheets are tangled on the floor, furniture knocked askew as if violently heaved in an effort to keep some stalking predator back. The windows drapes have been torn down, to lie like a murdered bird, its broken wings askew, upon the floor. The room is splashed with blood. Arcs of it spread everywhere, but especially pooled on the bed. More blood covers the walls, the door, bloody handprints dot the headboard, the desperate grappling clasp of a man trying to pull himself upright. Through a doorway was a bathroom, the mirror smashed… blood everywhere.

Ooze

A dark basement room, stark cold concrete floor. A spotlight in the ceiling illuminated only the immediate surrounds, all else was lost in darkness and shadows. Steven in only white boxer shorts sat bound to an old plain wooden chair, thick strong wood, rough-hewn ladder-backed, the headrest rising just over his head. The chair was bolted to the concrete, thick leather straps with metal buckles restrained him at wrists elbows ankles and knees. Another pair of straps, one over his breast the other just above the waistband of his boxers; a strap over his forehead helped hold his head in place. He can thrash but not much. Electrodes were taped over his hart and belly, another clipped to a finger, lines trailing from them to: The Machine.
The Machine sat behind the chair, it looked cobbled together from spare\junkyard parts. The main body a waist high wheeled metal filing cabinet, drawers stripped away to leave a metal shell with platforms (the bottom of drawers left in). Bottommost a pair of computer towers linked together, lights blinked madly on them. Above were glass jars and plastic vats full of strange bubbling liquids trailing tubes and wires, plus empty jars with tubes as well. A monitor\keypad and trackball mouse were welded to the side, the monitor displaying bio readings. On top some type of iron lung style pump\ bellows squatted like a warty toad on a lily pad, waiting for prey to fly into range. It most resembled something a mad scientist might use in a bad movie from the seventies.
Tubes led off from The Machine to Steven, tubes trail under the legs of his boxers. Over his bellybutton poised a large nine-inch diameter glass vacuum tube, inside this hung a four-inch diameter second glass tube more centered over his button, inside it a syringe waited. Three tubes led into the vacuum tube, a thick one simply attached to the large tube, two smaller ones led off from the thick one and attached directly to the large bore syringe.
Tammy looks like a cross between a dominatrix and a mad scientist. Her hair let down shoulder length. Thigh-high shiny black leather boots, a lab coat buttoned to the neck, her breasts fight to pop the buttons. It goes down to her hips showing flashes of her red panties as she moves. She still had her glasses on, a clipboard in hand.


Keywords - click on word to search for more titles

horror  ooze  werewolf  tentacled  brain eater  

Author Information

To follow

 

Publisher Information

Publishers of non-adult and adult fiction. Authors, experienced and new are welcome. We have a number of different sites for various genres, including specialist sites for Romance (www.a1romancestories.com, our non-adult and erotica site at www.fiction4all.com and a number of adult sites based around our main site at www.a1adultebooks.com

A Trifecta Of Horror (Aaron Majewski)


A Trifecta Of Horror by Aaron Majewski

$1.75

Add To Cart

More By This Author

    • Not yet rated. Buy this book and be the first to rate it!

An anthology of three adult-based horror short stories:
The werewolf and the brain-eater.
A detective story.
The ooze.

A trifecta of darkly erotic horror stories delving into the furthest depths of human imagination, as nightmares feed on weak, helpless flesh.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 4 / 2010

No. words: 8719

Style: Dark Erotica -    Dark Secrets Erotica, Adult Horror Stories, Science Fiction Erotica

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  MS Word  PDF  MS Reader  Text  RTF  


Excerpt

Werewolf

Tim spread-eagled against the wall wrists and ankles shackled, leather straps across chest and belly pinning him to the wall, the muzzle hangs loose around his neck. Sondra, looking amused holds an open iron collar in her hand, the chain leads to a bolt in the wall.
“Just snap it around my neck Sondra, then I’ll tell you my secret,” Tim urged.
She replied gently, like she’s pleasing a child. “Okay Tim.”
She snapped the collar around his neck, stepped back standing in front of him; her hands clasped before her, eyes downcast, demure little smile on her face. “Does that make you happy Tim? Do you feel safe enough to tell me your secret now? I know I’m only a third year psychology student, but I’d love to have you explain just what goes through your mind when those shackles slip on.”
He shook his head making a disgusted sound. He looked at her imploringly. “Sondra please believe me, I’m a werewolf.”
Simply. “Oh well, that explains so much then.”
He groaned. “Please Sondra don’t just humor me, I’m a werewolf and I’m going to prove it to you. In a moment I’m going to ask you to throw open the shutters and let the moonlight in, then you’ll see.”
“Oh but I do believe you Tim, I’ve seen one or two in all my long centuries.

Detective

An older but classy hotel room. The Décor was dark brown wood paneling, and red: red carpet, heavy red damask window drapes, a dark vermilion bedspread. Made of silk, it would feel cool and soft on your skin, inviting comfort ridden slumber as it cradled you in its determined embrace. Wall scones light the room softly, the subdued lighting of a mortuary viewing room. The room however, is destroyed, signs of a vicious life or death struggle portrayed in every corner.
The bed sheets are tangled on the floor, furniture knocked askew as if violently heaved in an effort to keep some stalking predator back. The windows drapes have been torn down, to lie like a murdered bird, its broken wings askew, upon the floor. The room is splashed with blood. Arcs of it spread everywhere, but especially pooled on the bed. More blood covers the walls, the door, bloody handprints dot the headboard, the desperate grappling clasp of a man trying to pull himself upright. Through a doorway was a bathroom, the mirror smashed… blood everywhere.

Ooze

A dark basement room, stark cold concrete floor. A spotlight in the ceiling illuminated only the immediate surrounds, all else was lost in darkness and shadows. Steven in only white boxer shorts sat bound to an old plain wooden chair, thick strong wood, rough-hewn ladder-backed, the headrest rising just over his head. The chair was bolted to the concrete, thick leather straps with metal buckles restrained him at wrists elbows ankles and knees. Another pair of straps, one over his breast the other just above the waistband of his boxers; a strap over his forehead helped hold his head in place. He can thrash but not much. Electrodes were taped over his hart and belly, another clipped to a finger, lines trailing from them to: The Machine.
The Machine sat behind the chair, it looked cobbled together from spare\junkyard parts. The main body a waist high wheeled metal filing cabinet, drawers stripped away to leave a metal shell with platforms (the bottom of drawers left in). Bottommost a pair of computer towers linked together, lights blinked madly on them. Above were glass jars and plastic vats full of strange bubbling liquids trailing tubes and wires, plus empty jars with tubes as well. A monitor\keypad and trackball mouse were welded to the side, the monitor displaying bio readings. On top some type of iron lung style pump\ bellows squatted like a warty toad on a lily pad, waiting for prey to fly into range. It most resembled something a mad scientist might use in a bad movie from the seventies.
Tubes led off from The Machine to Steven, tubes trail under the legs of his boxers. Over his bellybutton poised a large nine-inch diameter glass vacuum tube, inside this hung a four-inch diameter second glass tube more centered over his button, inside it a syringe waited. Three tubes led into the vacuum tube, a thick one simply attached to the large tube, two smaller ones led off from the thick one and attached directly to the large bore syringe.
Tammy looks like a cross between a dominatrix and a mad scientist. Her hair let down shoulder length. Thigh-high shiny black leather boots, a lab coat buttoned to the neck, her breasts fight to pop the buttons. It goes down to her hips showing flashes of her red panties as she moves. She still had her glasses on, a clipboard in hand.


Keywords - click on word to search for more titles

horror  ooze  werewolf  tentacled  brain eater  

Author Information

To follow

 

Publisher Information

Publishers of non-adult and adult fiction. Authors, experienced and new are welcome. We have a number of different sites for various genres, including specialist sites for Romance (www.a1romancestories.com, our non-adult and erotica site at www.fiction4all.com and a number of adult sites based around our main site at www.a1adultebooks.com


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Contact Us    Terms and Conditions    Privacy Policy
Refund Policy

Authors write for us    Publishers and self-publishers sell with us

This Site Owned By Fiction4All - Copyright © 2016


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