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 5
Xavier's Point of View
I had a deep, unsettling feeling about this roommate of mine. I rarely get this restless or suspicious about people, but Alan Rowan?
There is just something about him that seemed off, but I just couldn't figure it out, and this thick mystery that settled on him made me very curious.
One, he feels and smells very strange, mind you, almost feminine.
I recognize the scent of that shampoo anywhere; it's the same one my nanny uses. What kind of boy would use a woman's shampoo? And if you add that to the fact that he took his bath two hours before class, and dressed up in the bathroom as well.
It was strange, very strange.
He was relatively shorter than normal, with soft, feminine features, and a voice that doesn't feel deep most times, but I have met boys like that before; maybe he is one of those boys. I walked back to my dorm as soon as class was over.
Alan went off first. He went to look for Noah; they seemed to have gotten close during the previous night-they stayed up the entire night chattering.
The dorm was empty when I got in, and then my eyes flickered towards the study table designated for each of us. I could see Alan's backpack on his table, and my eyes narrowed.
"Alan?" I called out, but there was no response. I walked towards the bathroom, knocked, but there was no response.
I hesitantly opened the door, but the bathroom was empty.
"Great, there is no one in the room."
I dropped my books on the table, staring hard at the backpack-it is wrong to touch his things, but then I am so curious.
I need to know the mystery behind him.
Tossing common sense out of the window, I grabbed the backpack and zipped it open, my eyes flickering towards the door to ensure no one was coming while I ransacked it. It was just books, pens, sticky notes, and many other things.
"Now, I feel like a fucking stalker-" I froze when my eyes met with a packet; lime green with bold headings, soft girl sanitary pad. I took it out to be sure that I wasn't seeing things.
Just as I was about to open it, I heard footsteps. I quickly slipped the packet back in the bag before sprinting towards my bed, plopping on it. I shut my eyes tightly the moment the door opened. My heart pounded vigorously in my chest, not because I was almost caught, but because of what I had just found.
What the hell is a sanitary pad doing in a boy's bag?
Wait... why am I even thinking about this? It could belong to his sister-that is a more logical conclusion.
The other unreasonable one would be that Alan was a girl.
"What do you mean he took your cafeteria pass?" I heard Noah's voice, and I turned to the side, slamming my face into the pillow. "Imagine being bullied on your first day. We can go get it together if you want."
"He seems scary. I don't think we are a match for him." Alan's voice said gently. "Even Xavier tried to defend me earlier, but the stuck-up jerk isn't someone who would yield."
I remained silent, pretending to be asleep, until I finally drifted off into a real deep sleep.
I winced slightly when I suddenly heard footsteps, my eyes pried open, my head whipped towards the noise, and sleep cleared out of my eyes when I noticed it was Alan sneaking around again.
Curiously, I became still in my bed as I watched him intently. He grabbed his uniform again, and he entered the bathroom.
That was when I got out of bed, and before he could lock the door, I grabbed the knob and pushed it.
Alan's eyes went wide with fear and surprise.
"X-Xavier..." He stumbled back in panic as I entered the bathroom and locked us in.
"Are you trying to get dressed in the bathroom again?" I asked, curiously pointing to the clothes in his hands, I have to get to the bottom of this.
I need to know if he is a boy or a girl.
"Two hours before class again?"
"I don't think I can share the bath." He confessed; his voice shook, and confidence waned.
"Even if you are shy, why not wait until morning? Why are you trying to get dressed in your school when it's barely 5 in the morning, we have classes by eight, something isn't adding up, care to explain?"
Silence settled on us, the air was thick with tension, and as I walked him towards the wall, every single little detail was a hint, his voice, his eyes, the way he speaks and acts-they were all girly.
And I am certain of what my answer was already.
"Are you hiding something from us, Alan?" I want him to confess it by himself, tell it to my face now that I have caught him.
"No, I am not." He still lied. "There is no rule that says I can't bathe earlier for my class."
True.
I pulled back.
"Is there something you are accusing me of?" Now, he is trying to lure me to see if I suspect him.
It's only wise to drop the issue; I wouldn't want to draw attention to him or her.
"Sorry, I misunderstood." I turned on my heels, walking back to the room. I don't want to be wrapped up in some disaster. If she is here pretending to be a boy, then it must be for a good reason.
As long as no one gets hurt, it's none of my business.
The only problem I would be having is the strange desires that seemed to stir whenever he is close to me. I felt a certain part of my body harden, growing very uncomfortable--it's been so long since I have relieved myself, I might not have a choice but to do that.
It's quite shameful that I was attracted to him while I thought he was a boy, but I felt slightly better that I know Alan is, in fact, a girl.
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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.