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Elle Em Tee

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2025

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25 Followers
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40 Stories

357 karma pts

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Hell Has No Home

*Isabella lives in a house that was supposed to be a lifeline. Instead, it became a theatre of cruelty. Trapped by contracts, loyalty, and the one creature who never betrayed her—her dog Mid-Knight—she endures emotional warfare with quiet defiance. In a world where love becomes a trap and freedom demands betrayal, Isabella learns that hell isn’t a place. It’s a performance. And it has no home.* Mid-Knight whimpered. Isabella didn’t move. She stood at the kitchen bench, hands deep in a bowl of boiled chicken and rice, mixing CBD oil through...

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The Bite

Content WarningThis story contains emotionally intense themes including power exchange, ritualised intimacy, spiritual manipulation, and psychological liberation. It reimagines the myth of Adam and Eve through a satirical lens, exploring trauma, consent, and autonomy. Readers may encounter references to submission, betrayal, and spiritual bypassing. While no explicit violence or sexual content is depicted, the dialogue engages with erotic subtext and emotional control.Recommended for emotionally mature readers comfortable with mythic subvers...

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Almost There, But Not!

Weekly Contest #318

Isabella is the last choice. Not the first flame. Not the favourite. She’s the fall-back. The echo. The soft landing when better options vanish. Even the Devil only visits when others don’t answer. He wears many faces. Not just lovers. Friends turned foes. Doctors who speak in riddles and silence. Systems that smile with empty hands. Governments that file her under too hard. He is all of them. He is the pattern. He is the rhythm of being almost enough. She remembers the moment her body betrayed her. Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. A curse. A...

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Mind Me, Won’t You?

The fatigue had settled into her bones long before the night began. It was the kind of exhaustion no sleep could touch—the slow erosion of being unseen, unheard, sidelined in every way that mattered. She could still show up physically, but inside, she was a ghost. When people listened only to reply, not to understand, her words dissolved into static. Her heart was denied. Her voice echoed only in the hollow chamber of her own mind. She opened the inbox.... Dallas had praised her body like it was a gift he’d unwrapped, but never asked what it...

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The Fog, Before the Trap

South Australia Police DepartmentIncident Report – Case No. 0822-ISAR Filed: August 22, 2025Reporting Officer: Sgt. M. CallahanDivision: Missing Persons / Cyber Crimes TaskforceSubject: Isabella Ryan (F), 32, resident of Kaldivis Bay, South AustraliaStatus: Missing – High RiskLast Known Contact: August 20, 2025, 17:42 AESTSuspect: Alias “Justin” – identity under investigation Summary:On August 22, 2025, Isabella Ryan was reported missing by her housemate, Husani, following a series of increasingly disturbing communications with a man she met...

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The Curse Of Crumbs

Weekly Contest #317

He touched her. But not just with physicality. It wasn’t only his fingers that stroked the side of her face, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. It wasn’t just the warmth of his body as he cradled her. He touched her soul—her curiosity. His charm didn’t sit on the surface; it came from the depths. It was the kind of charm that didn’t ask for attention—it earned it, quietly, like a secret remembered. He asked her to bare herself to him—not her body, but her soul. Her identity. What lay beyond the scarred armour that shielded her fro...

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The Voice Beneath the Doll

Weekly Contest #317

Isabella didn’t grow up. She survived. Her earliest memories weren’t of lullabies or bedtime stories. They were of visits. Her mother called them “playdates” with uncles—Uncle Derek, Uncle Patrick, Uncle Greg. And her pop. Not the kind who taught her to ride a bike or read a map. The kind who taught her to dissociate. Uncle Derek had rough, fat fingers, that had a way of "tickling". That’s what he said. That’s what she repeated. “Mummy, Uncle Derek tickled me again.” “Sweetheart, he’s just playing. You’re so sensitive.” Isabella stared ...

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Human Contradictions

Weekly Contest #316

I met a man.There was a connection so instant, it felt like my soul recognized his—like we’d been lovers in a past life, or perhaps enemies who never stopped circling each other.He became my secret, my shame, my conflict, my happiness.Quite literally, my everything.He was the pulse in my throat when I spoke too freely.The ache in my chest when I remembered he wasn’t mine.He was the knot of guilt, the flicker of pleasure, the remorse that followed every stolen moment.He was my greed, my master, my daddy.But he also belonged to someone else.Wh...

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The Hours Between

It was 1am and my eyes shot open, like an abrupt jack-in-the-box.It is crazy because at first my brain carried on like it had been well rested, as if sleep had been eternal and time to wake was now.Then I looked at the time... I had been asleep for a fingerful of time.And then I tried to sleep.Never had I seen time go so fast yet felt it move so slow.I had tried several sleep meditation apps, listened to sleep history podcasts, smoked a cone or four, and still not one part of me was going to sleep, though my inner voice was insistent on tryi...

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Jefferson’s Diary: Tales of the Pawfect Gentleman.

Weekly Contest #314

Jefferson’s Diary: Tales of the Pawfect Gentleman. The journal entries of a cheeky, curious, and utterly lovable dog’s view of life with his humans. Day 1: The Link of Destiny My human picked up the walking link. That was it. Destiny called. I leapt from my throne (a plush donut bed, thank you very much) and galloped to her side. Yes! Link me to you, woman, and let us conquer the outdoors. Four minutes later… The air was rich with mystery. I tugged her toward a suspicious patch of grass, clearly marked by the droppings of a rival. I sniffed...

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I Don't Have Germs..., Do I?

I am not a children’s book. I do not rhyme. I do not sparkle. I do not teach you how to count to ten or how to share your toys. I am not here to tuck you in or make you giggle at a talking giraffe who wears rollerblades. I am simply, a little book with a message. And today, I sit in a gym. Not just any gym, but one marinating in a heatwave so intense it feels like the sun itself decided to do a HIIT session. The air is thick, the walls are sweating, and the humans, oh, the humans, are glistening like rotisserie chooks on spin cycle. I perch ...

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The Feeling I Can’t Explain

“I can’t sleep.” It was not the first time I had whispered it into the quiet. But tonight felt different. Not like the usual restlessness from too much coffee or a lingering worry. No, this was something else. Something electric. And it all started at the town carnival. Dash had planned a cute date. He had heard about the glow-in-the-dark Ferris wheel and the fairy floss that changed colour when you licked it. He knew I had love that kind of thing. The excitement was contagious. I pulled on my cosiest jumper, tied my hair in pigtails, and...

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The Animal Inside

The house was colder than the weather could explain. Even mid-summer felt muted inside its walls. The blinds were always drawn. The windows, dust-crusted and tired, seemed built to keep sunlight out on purpose. The air smelt of aged medication, microwaved leftovers, and forgotten clothes. A quiet kind of poverty, the kind that goes unseen. Days blurred into each other.Weeks evaporated. Months vanished without ceremony.Isabella had not manicured her nails in nearly a year. Her hair hung limp, oily. She did not brush it. Did not style it. Did ...

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Six Moons Later

Weekly Contest #311

I remember the comfort that creeps in when familiarity turns your bones warm. It is a feeling that slips in quietly, like a hot cup of tea between cold hands. Soothing. Undeniable. That is how it felt when I saw him again. Dash. His smile had not changed—could not have. It took over his entire face, like joy had muscle memory. The way his eyes crinkled and sparked at once, the flicker of white teeth, the nose that always twitched when he smiled sincerely. And this, this moment of seeing him again, gave me that ridiculous blush that blooms fr...

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Strangers Again

Weekly Contest #309

"After a series of dates that feel disarmingly intimate, Grace finds herself reduced to yet another sample in someone’s dating buffet. But connection comes with cost. As her illusions crumble, she reflects on how modern intimacy can leave wounds that don’t bleed, but fester. A story about disillusionment, power reclaimed, and the aching strangeness of being briefly known...and quickly discarded." She makes her turmeric latte in a soup bowl...the oversized one that doubles as comfort food. It’s the same ritual every morning now.... rituals f...

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