Jasmine McClain
Bio
Hello all, I am a full time MST therapist. I have been writing since I was 12 years old. I have written fanfics but my niche is horror and erotica.
Stories (5)
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Part two: Where did she go?
Zanthy stared blankly out of the window. She had been simply floating in her body since Mickey passed away. Zanthy could not wrap her head around how or why Mickey died. It did not make sense to her. She had just woken up and while she was disoriented, she had no reason to believe that she would not survive. The way she died did not sit right with Zanthy. No one at the hospital could give her or Mickey’s family any real reason she suffocated to death.
By Jasmine McClain4 months ago in Horror
Part one: don't look into the mirror. Content Warning.
The diner was buzzing with the sounds of laughter and bacon sizzling on the grill. The smell of coffee and fried eggs flooded her senses. The bell sounded as every new patron entered through the front door. “How are you today?” She heard the hostess say at the front of the diner.
By Jasmine McClain6 months ago in Horror
I called her...
I hadn't seen her in a few weeks. I didn't think to contact her after our last encounter, but now I was a little lost without her presence. I knew she wouldn't want to hear from me after I hadn't contacted her for almost three weeks, but I was hoping that she wouldn't be too upset with me. I just needed her now. I knew that I was wrong for doing that to her. She is really very sweet, too sweet for me. But, like I said before, I needed her now.
By Jasmine McClain10 months ago in Filthy
His body
I watched him. I watched him take off his glasses and his watch. I watched him unbutton his shirt from the bottom up like he does every day. I watched him drop his shirt to the ground and look at me wide eyed and pick his shirt up off the floor and place it in the hamper next to the dresser. I watched him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants and pull them down. I watched him step out of his pants and lean down to pick them up and put them in the hamper. I watched him walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower and get into the shower.
By Jasmine McClainabout a year ago in Fiction
In The Pond
I remember when I was eight years old, something happened that I never told anyone about. I don’t know why but I have decided at 45 that I finally wanted to tell someone about it. The experience has, well, haunted me to this day. Although haunted is the wrong word. Maybe I should say, encompassed. Yes, that’s the word. It has encompassed my mind for the last 37 years.
By Jasmine McClain4 years ago in Fiction
