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Young Adult Stories

From Puppet Daughter to Powerhouse

From Puppet Daughter to Powerhouse

5.0
Young Adult Bone Possolo

My freshman year at Green Mountain College was supposed to be about freedom. But my mom, Susan, had other plans for her only daughter. She turned my dorm room into a high-tech prison, monitoring every single video call, scrutinizing my bank account, and even tracking my social media DMs "for my safety." It wasn't safety; it was relentless, suffocating surveillance, a gilded cage I desperately wanted to escape. Then came the ultimate college freshman nightmare: my debit card (tied to Mom' s account, of course) got declined at the crowded campus coffee shop. Total humiliation. A kind senior, Liam, stepped in and paid for my coffee and bagel; a simple, unexpected act of grace. But that small kindness triggered a reaction I never anticipated. Hours later, Liam messaged me, sending a screenshot that made my blood run cold. My mother had instantly found his Venmo payment, tracked him on Instagram, and sent him a chilling message, warning him off her "vulnerable" daughter. Liam, understandably, blocked me instantly, dissolving my only new connection. Mom's video call that night wasn't an interrogation; it was an execution, dredging up every past friendship she' d ever destroyed, every connection she' d severed. She wasn't just protective; she was ensuring I was utterly, completely hers. The shame of that night quickly curdled into a burning, unyielding rage. She wasn't trying to keep me safe; she was systematically isolating me, controlling my finances, my friendships, my entire existence. I finally saw the pattern with terrifying clarity, a sinister obsession veiled as maternal love, one that perhaps even connected to my father' s "factory accident" years ago. The thought that she might have secretly engineered my entire life filled me with a chilling dread. I wasn't just terrified anymore. I was done running. If she wanted to monitor my life, I decided to give her something truly alarming to find. I created Ryder Stone, the brooding musician, everything she' d despise. It was time to stop being her puppet. It was time to turn her own controlling surveillance into my weapon, inviting her into a trap she wouldn' t see coming.

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My Step Daddy Is My Lover

My Step Daddy Is My Lover

5.0
Young Adult Flying Soul 🩋

Welcome guys in 2nd part of MY STEP DADDY. if you are new you need to read first part MY STEP DADDY. Mature content 18+ "Daddy
." She moaned clenching my hair, arching her back giving me more of her nipples. I took her areola in my mouth sucking hard like a baby starving for milk. I was starving for her milk making her nipples bloody red I dragged my mouth giving her wet kisses. I make sure her whole body covered with my marks. All red and purple marks of my passionate love for her. She was moaning, Her erotic breath and my groan filled the room.I lash out my beast on her. I was rock and hard to enter inside her. "Daddy Please" She begged her face was flashed, Her cheeks were pinky like her name. "Rose promise me, you won't leave me" I asked entering inside her. "Yes daddy
I won't
" She said digging her nail in my back. "I love you princess
" I said thrusting inside her. It feel like heaven, Her pussy my heaven. "I love you daddy
." She moaned coming on me and I thrusted fastest speed like if I stopped she will vanished beneath me. "Princess where our baby
" I asked coming inside her. Her whole body frozen beneath me. I saw tear rolling down in corner of her eyes getting invisible in her hair. "Baby
" I asked and she broke into loud sob. "What happened" She cried giving me hard glare like I am the person in this world she hated most. The eyes holding so much love for me was replaced with hatred. "Baby.." I asked trying to give her hugged but she vanished beneath me before whispering " I Hate You daddy"

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The Heiress's Loop: My Second Chance

The Heiress's Loop: My Second Chance

5.0
Young Adult Mo Yufei

My head pounded, a familiar ache, as I slowly sat up in my dorm room, sunlight streaming through the window. But something was terribly wrong; the last thing I remembered was my farewell party before London, a drink from Brianna, and then a confusing blank. Now, my phone confirmed the impossible: September 5th, move-in day, the exact beginning of my freshman year. A cold dread washed over me, stomach churning, as the door creaked open, revealing Brianna Evans, my new roommate. She was slinging a cheap, shiny black jacket over her arm – a blatant, terrible knock-off of my AllSaints leather jacket, the one I had just worn in my real past. It hit me then: I was trapped in a horrifying loop, forced to relive every cruel detail of the previous timeline. I remembered her subtle digs, the stolen moments, the way she'd mimic me, then twist things until I looked like the villain, the prestigious internship I lost, the friendships she sabotaged, the reputation she systematically destroyed. My blood ran cold, then hot with a fury born of knowing exactly what she was. How could I be back here, forced to endure this slow-motion psychological torture all over again? The sheer unfairness of facing her again, knowing the devastation she' d leave in her wake, was almost unbearable. But deep within me, the old Ash – the one who was kind, accommodating, and always gave the benefit of the doubt – was gone, poisoned out of existence by Brianna's venom. This time, things would be drastically different. The game was on, and though she thought she held all the cards, I knew the rules now. I had a lifetime of future knowledge, and this time, the winner wouldn't be Brianna. My future was finally mine to reclaim.

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