The clatter of ice against glass startled Anne, dragging her back to reality. Glancing down the bar, she spotted one of the bartenders pouring an amber liquid over the ice cubes he’d just emptied into a small whiskey tumbler. In front of him a young woman smiled giddily, watching him add several more measuring cups of various liquids into the glass; whatever the drink was, it certainly wasn’t whiskey, and
Lucas felt as if Lavender’s eyes were boring into his soul. He’d always thought her name was far too pretty for someone so cold-hearted, and as he sat under her withering gaze he wondered for the thousandth time how anybody could fall for her nice girl act when she had eyes so corruptive – just meeting her gaze sparked filthy ideas. But there was something else in her stare today,
Yvonne wasn’t sure how the magic of the fountain pen worked. At first she’d thought maybe whatever the user wrote down was transcribed into reality, but that couldn’t be true – she’d been writing erotica with it for several hours already, but none of the saucy short stories she’d jotted down in her journal had come to life like this. She was fairly certain it couldn’t grant wishes either, because
The first thing Beatrix heard as she strode backstage were the erotic moans of her troupe. She hadn’t been away from them for long – just a few minutes while she tied up all the tent flaps to ensure they wouldn’t be disturbed – but clearly that was all it took for a room full of horny lesbians to succumb to their own arousal. In truth, she had fully expected
Drew was barely able to contain his excitement. Bouncing his legs with childish delight, his eyes were wide and giddy as the two contortionists on stage folded themselves over one another, their twisting bodies rubbing together in their figure-hugging spandex outfits. He had been waiting for this night for what felt like a lifetime. He had only been to the circus once, when he was a young boy, but the
Barnabus gave a weary sigh as he eyed the rolls and rolls of unsold tickets stacked atop his desk. He’d known for a long time that his show was on the way out, but somehow the sight of all the unwanted tickets drove it home like a stake to the heart. If he really tried, he could just about remember the good old days – back when a single ticket
Talia had never been more scared in her entire life. Her heart felt like it was about to give out at any moment, her stomach was a bottomless pit of terror, cold and gnawing, and raw fear crawled up her spine in thick, icy tendrils, writhing over her nape and across her shoulders so it felt almost like a heavy cape around her. Even so, though her eyes brimmed with
Elliott made his first wish as he stepped out of the house: he wished for confidence. Though he had dabbled in magic here and there before, he had half-expected the wishing perfume he’d brewed for himself wouldn’t work, but the moment the words left his mouth he felt a thrill of energy roll through him and the nerves that had been nagging at him all day evaporated instantly. He held
The shop was a transformation enthusiast’s heaven. Every shelf and railing and cabinet and display was dedicated to a different kind of deviant product, and when it came to naughty transformations, what the store didn’t sell wasn’t worth talking about. The shelves behind the counter looked like they belonged to a particularly depraved alchemist. Countless vials of vivid pink Elixir stood tall and proud alongside flasks of Formula, the deep
As the plastic blonde probed her tongue into Kyra’s mouth, the young woman felt her concerns melt away. Of course Tammi hadn’t come back last night – why would she ever want to leave this place? Of course Kyra was going to stay with her – the villa was so much better than that crummy hotel she was staying at, after all. Maybe her friends would pay a bit more
