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 2
Christian's Point of View
Whir... Whir... Whir...
Came the heavy and thunderous sounds from the helicopter blades as we approached the school premises. My frown deepened as I stared down. Yes, I admit that it was beautiful, but it could never compare to my previous school.
There were a lot of beautiful girls, wearing short skirts and flaunting their pretty long legs-they were like insects crawling around every corner, but now my father had decided to make me come to his school.
I refused, naturally, why?
Because it's a freaking boy's school, who the hell goes to an all-boys school in this modern day and age? There is nothing fun about being around a bunch of dudes.
Father decided to do some reforms due to the low admission rate, and part of that reform was to make his sons attend the school to boost the credibility of the institution and gain parents' trust.
"Why would people bring their sons to the school when the sons of the owner don't attend it?" That was how he blackmailed me; he might as well have shaved my head and sent me to a monastery.
"We will be landing in ten seconds." The helicopter pilots communicated through the radio as they began to land, and only then did I glance out the side window, looking at the school that would soon become my hell.
I barely got out of the helicopter when my phone began to blast. My eyes narrowed when I looked at the contact ID of the caller-Veronica Smith, my crazy, now ex-girlfriend, was the caller.
I hadn't met any girl half as mad; she is a pest and a stalker.
"I told you to stop calling me," I muttered into the phone. "Don't you understand when someone tells you it's over?"
"You can't break up with me, Christian." Her high-pitched voice cut through my ears. "I won't allow it."
"Well, I can. I will. And I have. Why don't you find a hobby or something?" I ended the call immediately, and I blocked her again. This was the seventh number I was blocking since I ended things with her.
I approached the dorm area following the school guide map on my phone, so I wasn't paying attention to the road. I felt the air knocked out of my lungs when someone suddenly collided with me.
My eyes went wide as I stared down at the ugly milky splatter on my favorite navy-blue Prada coat-the audacity of this person, my eyes darted towards the boy who had bumped into me, the cause of my ruined coat.
He was relatively shorter than me, and his face was rounded, with soft features-like a girl's soft chin, jawline, nose.
His beautiful amber eyes, like sunlight trapped in a lantern, bulged out from surprise when he noticed the mess he had made.
This is one unique-looking boy, dare I say, he was beautiful, like a good dream on a Sunday afternoon.
My eyes flickered down his cheap ass clothes, and down at his worn out brandless shoe; everything that he wore just reeked of inferior; he is probably one of those students who got into the school through the scholarship program.
"How do you intend to pay for my coat?" I asked with a smirk, and he hurriedly reached for his pocket; his hands trembled as he brought out a handkerchief.
I stepped away from him quickly.
"I-I'm so sorry," he stammered, voice soft and higher than it should be. He fumbled for a handkerchief with shaking hands. "I can try to wipe-"
"Touch it, and I'll make you regret it." I shrugged the coat off, holding it up. "It's useless now, and it's a limited edition. Eight thousand dollars."
He gasped. "And how do you plan to pay for this, boy?"
Shock rippled on his face, his eyes almost falling out of their sockets.
"I-I don't think I-I can afford it..." He stuttered. "Is there any other way we can come to terms?"
"I don't do charity." I interrupted him quickly. "What will you do, femboy? Cash or credit?"
"I-I don't have money," He continued. "I cannot pay you eight thousand dollars right now. I am really sorry, but if you allow me, I can wash the stain away.
"Do you think I am going to wear that coat again?" I grabbed him by the collar of his clothes and pulled him closer to me-he was unreasonably light. The soft scent of his perfume tickled my nose.
He smells just like a girl... floral and feminine.
While trying to understand his weird taste of cologne, my eyes flickered towards his hands, and I noticed he had something clutched in one of them.
A card? I ripped it out of his grip, I scanned it, and it was the school cafeteria pass, a card that allows you access to food. My lips curved into a small smirk. This should do.
"I will hold on to this until you can afford to pay me back for the coat," I told him sternly.
His eyes widened, he tried to catch the pass, but I raised it above my head-since I was taller than him, he was unable to reach for it.
"Without the pass, I would be unable to get any meals." He complained in the same shy voice, for some weird reason, I seemed to enjoy taunting this weak little boy, reminds me of my older brother.
There was some kind of appeal that I found in him.
"In all honesty, we are both at fault here," He grumbled, and I raised an eyebrow. "You were on your phone, that's why you didn't see me."
"I don't care whose fault it is; my coat is damaged, and someone has to be responsible for it." I declared. "Once you have decided how to pay, you can come meet me at Sunset Hall, Room 59, and we can discuss the terms. Until then, you will have no food to eat."
I leaned into him, patted his head, and strutted past him. He tried to follow me, but then stopped mid-way, feet dragging on the floor.
Well, seems like my stay in this goddamned school wouldn't be so boring after all.
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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.