Stories tagged “fingers”

  • Maw (Mature)

    I’ve a preference for Rottweilers. The name is derived from Rottweil Metzgerhund. German for “Butcher’s Dog”. The anatomy in comparison to that of other dogs is much more accommodating. I enjoy dogs as opposed to livestock for t...

  • Count Your Fingers

    “I must be dreaming,” he thought. He glanced at his hand and tried to count his fingers. It took a few tries, as his hand looked really blurry, but he counted five on both hands. “So, I’m not dreaming,” he muttered, unable...

  • Your fingers

    Your fingers, your touch I want. So warm, so soft, trembling. On me my skin awaits. They brush, my pulse quickens. My chest, hollow, wants more.

    • Author: Cary
    • Posted about 2 years ago.

  • More Than Nothing (part 2)

    Although this feeling stung, sending jolts through my body, the elation made me feel… alive. Like something extrodinary has just been discovered. The void around me felt so distant, I felt like I could escape. What has trapped me my whole life do...

  • More Than Nothing (part 3)

    I placed my palm to where I think the door still hung, my fingers were oblivious but down my palm I could feel it still. That twinge of cold through my skin. My heart soared knowing that what could my way be out was still here. But I withdrew my hand. ...

  • More Than Nothing (Part 4)

    I leaned against the door gritting my teeth against the pain of my hand. Waiting in the dark as it slowly faded away. There’s a way through. Every door can open even one without lock or key. I pushed against the door, ignoring my fingers. The sur...

  • More Than Nothing (Part 5)

    As I felt the door reform my heart sank, taking my breath with it. Something that was already hard was going to be near impossible now. My whole body cringed in pain; healing from the trauma I brought to it. I couldn’t move either arm. The numbne...

  • Ashes Remain: Prologue Part 2

    Quivering digits turned the pale photograph over, my crystal orbs studying it’s backside. A short sigh of breath escaped as I turned the picture over once again. I stood, my gray suit jacket rustling against the wooden chair that I had just sat o...

  • A New Years Conversation (Mature)

    Hector tried to fasten his buttons together. “Damn it!” he yelled as his finger crumbled off. “Wassa matta?” asked Jim from the bathroom. “My fucking finger fell off.” “Which one?” “My pinky!”...