
Beauty In The Boy's Dorm
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."
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Chapter 1
Lana's Point of View
"Did you cut your hair?" Liam asked, horrified, as I climbed down the stairs. I was clutching the handle of my suitcase in one hand and pulling my backpack in the other. "Why would you cut your hair?!"
"Did you dye it?" My heart nearly jumped out of my mouth when I heard Leon from behind me. Before I could stop him, my proactive, 14-year-old brother's fingers were mangled in my hair.
I swatted his hand. "Ouch!" He jumped away from me.
"Don't ruin the style." I snapped. "What do you think, how do I look?" I asked, getting into character, deepening my voice.
"I agree with Liam, you shouldn't have cut your hair," Leon muttered as he joined his identical twin brother on the dining table, and for a split moment, I was unable to tell the difference between them.
"That isn't the point," I threw up my arms in exasperation, stressing my question. "Do I look like a boy?"
"Well, if anything, you look ugly." Liam drawled, and they both laughed, mocking me. I want to throttle them so bad.
"Lana..." I froze when I heard my father's weak voice from behind me.
Why did I forget about him? He stood in the doorway; his panicked eyes raked over my new appearance.
"Jesus Christ!" He neared me and then quickly set down the plates in his hands on the table, before turning back to me. "The implications of what you are about to do will cost you throughout your lifetime, Lana, and as your father, I don't approve of it."
He had tried to convince me over the week, but my decision had remained the same-I didn't take the scholarship exam, and pass to just give up now.
"We don't have money." I reminded him. "We need money for mother's hospital bills, and to make matters worse, you are-"
I barely stopped the venomous words from spilling out and drew in a shaky breath. "With me off your neck, you can focus on other things... on yourself."
Father's voice grew softer.
"Lana, I understand how much you care, but not like this; you are throwing away your identity, which is basically your life."
I clenched my fists tightly, my nails dug into my palms, holding back the words that threatened to spill from my lips.
"I have made my decision, and I will do it either with or without your support." Pain squeezed father's eyes, but he did not attempt to argue with me any further.
"I will drop you off-" before he could finish, I interrupted him sharply.
"There is no need, I can get there on my own." I don't want to risk him ruining this for me. My eyes flickered towards the twins; both seemed uncomfortable as they watched Father and me argue as always.
"Be good, boys," I stressed, and they both nodded.
I pulled the suitcase, leaving behind the swallowing silence behind me, bidding goodbye to Lana, and welcoming Alan.
As of this moment on, my name will be Alan Rowan.
"Welcome to Robert Blackwoods All Boys Academy." The security guard said with a smile the moment I showed him my admission letter. "Just take the right to the Administrative Block, you must do all your registration before settling in your dorm."
"Thank you." I smiled.
"Good morning, sir," I say in my practiced deep voice to the screening officer as I submit my documents to his table. They were all forged. I had a nervous smile on my face as I hoped he wouldn't notice, because if he did, I would be sent straight to detention or prison.
"Good morning." He yawned as he flipped through the pages of my document, barely reading anything there. He pressed his stamps on each page and then handed me back the file.
First step, cleared!
I walked over to the next office, where I received my school uniform, student pass, and the school handbook. There was a huge influx of admitted students due to the scholarship program, because when I got to the lodging and accommodation block, there were a lot of students waiting in line to get a dorm for themselves.
And I soon realize that there is a hierarchy of how things work in here.
People who can afford to pay their tuition and are not on scholarship stay in a single room-they have everything within their comfort zone, including their privacy.
Students who got the scholarship but cannot afford the accommodation fee get to stay in a single room or just share it with a roommate, depending on what they can afford.
But people like me, whose scholarship is fully funded, will be sharing the room with two other boys.
That's not good, because I would be sharing the room with two boys, and it's a shared bathroom too.
But the accommodation fee is about 15,000 dollars per term for two students in a dorm, and 30,000 dollars per term for a single person in a dorm. How the hell am I supposed to afford that?
"Alan Rowan!" I suddenly heard my name.
"Yes," I answered on instincts and my feminine voice rang out, which drew attention; all gazes were on me, so I pretended to have a cough. "Uhm... Yes, that's me."
"Your dorm is in Zenith Hall, Room 270." The registrar said as he handed me my pass and key, his eyes fell back towards his computer, calling out the next person.
I dragged my suitcase under the hot sun, my eyes finally taking in how magnificently huge the school is-and for such a big private school, with enough capacity for five thousand students, they have an incredibly low admission record of about a thousand students per year.
After a board meeting regarding this serious issue, they realized most parents would prefer to take their children to a mixed school rather than an all-boys school, because the school was expensive.
This caused concern for the founder of the school, Dr. Robert Blackwood JNR, hence the scholarship program. Once people started to hear more about the school and how good their facilities were, they would enroll their male children in it.
My family, on the other hand, is in shambles. My mother had a terrible accident five years ago, and she has been in a coma ever since.
Father tries his hardest to pay the hospital bills and still keep us in school, not one day have I seen that man rest. But early last year, he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease, which made him lose his job as an architect.
He still tries his hardest despite losing his job, and it hurts my heart to see him struggle to put all three of us through school, while also paying hospital bills.
I wanted to help him somehow, but I couldn't.
When I heard news of Blackwood's scholarship program exam, I was devastated because I knew how much this scholarship would help my family, but I was not a boy, and my brothers were still in middle school.
I didn't want the opportunity to waste, so I had to become a boy.
My feet ached as I dragged my suitcase around, looking for the zenith building.
I'm parched and covered with sweat.
My breath came out in short pants as I reached for the side of my backpack and took out the small bottle of milk drink I had tucked away.
I took a sharp turn in a hurry to take cover from the sun, I broke open the lid of my bottled drink, and collided with something stiff and hard before I could even take a sip.
I staggered backwards, and my eyes widened as it followed the liquid that squirted out of the bottle and landed on the navy-blue coat of the figure standing in front of me.
"Ah!" I gasped, my hands flew to cover my mouth in shock, as I stared at the ugly patch of milk on the coat.
My eyes guiltily trailed up to meet the blue eyes of the boy in front of me. His eyes were fixed on the stain before they flickered towards me and then stared down at me.
God, no. Not on my first day.
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9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.

9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."

7.6
Johana walked half a mile through a brutal blizzard just to secure a tutoring job with the elite Black family.
But the very night she was hired, she received a terrifying call from the ER—her quiet roommate, Hazelle, had been drugged and severely traumatized at a Hamptons party.
When Johana rushed to the hospital, she didn't find the police. Instead, she found a team of ruthless billionaires erasing the crime.
Leading them was Dalton Black, the cold, arrogant older brother of her new student.
Within minutes, Dalton's fixers wiped the hospital's security footage, deleted all digital evidence, and forcefully transferred Hazelle to a locked private psychiatric facility.
"We are ensuring her privacy."
Dalton's voice was devoid of emotion, treating the horrific assault like a minor PR glitch.
His friends mocked Johana's powerlessness, while Dalton authorized a blank check to pay for the private ward, effectively burying the scandal and buying their silence.
Johana stood in the sterile hallway, trembling with a mix of despair and absolute rage.
How could they destroy an innocent girl's life and simply pay to make it disappear? Why was the truth so easily erased by money?
She had no wealth, no connections, and no proof, but she refused to be a victim of their cover-up.
Staring directly into Dalton's intimidating, icy blue eyes, Johana made a vow.
"I don't want your money. I will find out what you monsters did to her."
She thought the billionaire heir would crush her on the spot, but instead, he watched her walk away and quietly ordered his assistant: "Find out everything about Johana Neal."

7.4
Clara Davis was trained to seduce, deceive, and destroy.
Her mission is simple: infiltrate billionaire Jeffery Rothwell's life, gain his trust, and help seize his empire in exchange for the freedom she has always craved.
But the deeper she slips into his dangerous world, the more the lines between mission and desire begin to blur. Falling for him was never part of the plan and neither was discovering that the man she was sent to manipulate may not be the real Jeffery at all.
Now trapped in a deadly web of obsession, power, and hidden identities. Clara is caught between the organization that owns her, the monster who remade her, and a love that has turned into vengeance. Clara must survive a man who sees everything, controls everything, and may be far more dangerous than the organization that created her.
Because in this game of seduction and revenge, love might be the deadliest trap of all.

8.9
Ava Kidd just wanted to escape her abusive stepmother when she got drunk at a high-end club and stumbled into the wrong hotel room.
She woke up the next morning in a luxury penthouse, lying naked next to a terrifyingly handsome man covered in her scratch marks.
Recalling rumors of the hotel's secret underground concierge, she immediately assumed she had accidentally slept with an elite male escort.
Desperate to settle the bill, she offered him her only debit card with a pathetic $1,800.
But the man, who was actually Garrison Terry, the ruthless billionaire CEO, was deeply insulted by the cheap plastic.
He trapped her against the bed, coldly demanding a half-million-dollar service fee.
When Ava frantically offered her dead mother's tarnished locket as collateral, he cruelly dismissed it as worthless junk.
Ava was humiliated, her heart pounding with absolute terror.
She didn't understand why this arrogant gigolo was acting like a deranged extortionist, demanding a fortune from a broke girl who had clearly made a mistake.
Furious and refusing to cower, she sneaked out, put on his oversized designer shirt, and aggressively ate his $800 truffle breakfast.
Having no money left, she grabbed her cheap red lipstick, wrote a defiant IOU on his expensive linen napkin, and fled the hotel.
She thought she had escaped a criminal, but upstairs, the billionaire traced her lipstick-stained name with a predatory smile.
"Ava Kidd, I will absolutely find you."

8.1
I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge.