Fan Fiction

    This story has been set to a rating of . Age verification is required to proceed.

    Age Verification

    I am years of age as of today, May 5, 2024

    Enter your current age into the field provide above. Stories with a rating of R or NC-17 may contain material not suitable for children. LesFan requires that all individuals wishing to read these stories confirm they are of at least 17 years of age. LesFan uses the MPAA rating labeling system for all stories.

    LesFan will also make a best attempt to filter profane words in stories that are not rated R or NC-17 unless the individual confirms they are of at least 17 years of age.

    LesFan uses the following rating scale for stories.






    Submit

    Rip Out The Wings of A Butterfly

    “Spencer HELP!” Ashley cried out. The hands around her throat were cutting off the air. The raged woman above her was too strong and too large for her to escape the manicured grasp. Air would soon be running short as the hands tried to block the airway. “Paul, get off!” Ashley cried in a desperate attempt to break loose. Talking would only make it worse and she knew that, so she resorted to grunts and kicks of her feet.

     

    Spencer grabbed her mother’s arms and tried to pull the older blonde from her girlfriends half clothed body. “MOM, STOP IT!” She cried out in numerous variations of the statement. The woman was holding on too tightly for the youngest blonde to gain control of her.

     

    It was hard to believe that Paula had barged into the Davies’ mansion on her own and caught them in the act on the kitchen countertop, but it was true. And this was the outcome.

     

    “Spence, the wooden box.” Ashley managed to choke out, her face red and her lips swollen from the lack of oxygen. Spencer turned around and saw a chestnut box lying still on the table behind her. The blonde knew what was hidden inside, but was still hesitant to open it.

     

    Spencer unlatched the golden latch and lifted the lid slowly, her breath shaking at the sight. In the box laid a black handle followed by silver: a 357 Magnum. Her shaking hand reached out for the handgun. “Spencer, hurry.” Ashley barely said. Spencer did need to hurry. Ashley was running short on breath and in a matter of seconds, she would be passed out. Paula was a doctor and knew that, so there was no chance of her letting go after Ashley passed out.

     

    Spencer’s hand was shaking as she checked the chamber to be sure bullets were inside. The chamber was full and Spencer snapped it shut. She took one glance at her mother. This is how she was going to remember her. She was going to remember her mother as the hateful person who attempted to strangle her girlfriend.

     

    Heaven ablaze in our eyes

    We’re standing still in time

     

    Page 1 of 41234

    Comments

    1. Peanut. just. wow. that. was. intense. just. holy wow. yea. that’s twice today you’ve left me with no words. i guess you do have a talent. *whispers* congrats youre the only one that can do it

    2. Wow. I`m speechless. That was true wonderful writting. Paula shouldnt have been there. See what happens when you but in others realtionship. Great job Tease. Hd does the happy dance.

    3. Peanut. just. wow. that. was. intense. just. holy wow. yea. that’s twice today you’ve left me with no words. i guess you do have a talent. *whispers* congrats youre the only one that can do it

    4. Wow. I`m speechless. That was true wonderful writting. Paula shouldnt have been there. See what happens when you but in others realtionship. Great job Tease. Hd does the happy dance.

    5. You shot paula, You shot paula. Ok, I shouldn’t sing that over and over like you just stole a cookie and I’m telling mom. Come to think of it, we should nominate a ‘mom’. I’m thinking Grits. She’s kind of maternal. And neither of us would think of shooting her. It was… hmm, intense is one word. Slightly disturbing another. Acidic on the tongue. I liked it chicken little, I did. You should write more shock, you clearly can do it.

    6. You shot paula, You shot paula. Ok, I shouldn’t sing that over and over like you just stole a cookie and I’m telling mom. Come to think of it, we should nominate a ‘mom’. I’m thinking Grits. She’s kind of maternal. And neither of us would think of shooting her. It was… hmm, intense is one word. Slightly disturbing another. Acidic on the tongue. I liked it chicken little, I did. You should write more shock, you clearly can do it.

    Leave a Reply