Pretty Devil
Maddy worked at an exclusive underground club, always hidden behind a sleek black mask. One night, a wealthy client approached her with a filthy fantasy , he didn't want to just fuck her. He wanted to be her complete slave.
He took her to his luxury penthouse, while she shoved her soaked pussy onto his face and rode his tongue until she came, then mounted his cock and used him mercilessly, slapping and choking him while denying his orgasm until he begged like a broken whore. Even after she quit the club and started a new corporate job, she kept hooking up with him. One day, she walked into the CEO's office... and froze. Her new boss was the same man.
By day, in his luxurious office, he is the dominant, commanding CEO , barking orders, running the company with iron authority, and no one suspects a thing. By night, he becomes her secret pathetic slave: crawling, getting pegged over his own desk, licking her cum off his floor, and having his cock locked in chastity while she laughs at how easily she owns him.
Pretty Devil is a raw, extremely explicit erotic novel packed with intense femdom, heavy BDSM, humiliation, orgasm denial, pegging, face-sitting, and twisted power exchanges that blur the dangerous line between boss and secret slave.
This book is unapologetically nasty and graphic. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
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Chapter 2
As he devoured her, Maddy's grip tightened in his hair. She reached for one of the toys he had laid out, "A thick riding crop" and brought it down sharply across his bare back. "Deeper, slave," she commanded, voice dripping with dominance.
"Suck Mummy's clit properly while I whip you." Reeves moaned loudly into her pussy, his tongue working faster as the crop landed again and again on his back.
Maddy's breathing grew heavier. She ground her hips against his face, using the crop without mercy. "Good boy... make Mummy cum," she growled. "If you do it right, I might let you taste everything." Her body tensed. With a sharp cry, she orgasmed hard, squirting all over his face and mouth. Reeves drank most of it greedily, swallowing her juices while some dripped down his chin.
Maddy watched him with satisfaction behind her mask, still holding the crop. "Look at you... drinking Mummy's squirt like a desperate whore." Still panting, Reeves stroked his throbbing cock furiously. "Thank you, Mummy... I'm cumming... please..." He groaned loudly as he came hard, shooting ropes of cum onto the floor while his face remained buried between her legs.
Maddy smirked and gave his hair one final tug. "Pathetic. Clean up your mess with your tongue later." Maddy stood up and kicked him roughly to the floor. Reeves panted heavily, his face and chest covered in her juices.
Without looking back, she walked toward the luxurious marble bathroom, her soaked legs glistening. "Crawl," she ordered. He obeyed instantly, following her on all fours into the large bathtub.
Maddy stepped inside, turned to face the wall, and arched her back slightly, pushing her ass toward him. "Lick every drop of Mummy's juices from the back," she commanded coldly. "All of them. Don't miss a single one." Reeves pressed his face between her ass cheeks and began licking hungrily from behind, his tongue cleaning her thighs, pussy, and ass thoroughly. Maddy moaned softly, pressing back against his mouth. "Good boy... get your tongue deep. Clean Mummy properly."
When he finally finished, licking up every trace, his cock was rock hard again, throbbing painfully. Maddy glanced back at him over her shoulder. "Look at that... already hard again like a desperate little slut.
Do you want Mummy to let you put that cock in my pussy?" Reeves nodded frantically, eyes wild with desperation. "Yes, please, Mummy... I need it so bad. Please let me fuck you." She smirked behind her mask and spread her legs a little wider. "Beg properly." "Please, Mummy," he groaned. "Let your slave fuck your pussy... I'll be good, I promise."
Maddy reached back, grabbed his cock, and guided the tip to her entrance from behind. "Then do it. Put it in slowly... and thank Mummy while you fuck her." Reeves moaned loudly as he pushed inside her from the back, his hands gripping her hips. "Thank you, Mummy... fuck, you feel so good..." Reeves gripped Maddy's hips tightly and started pounding into her from behind, his cock thrusting deep and hard inside her pussy.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the marble bathroom as he fucked her with desperate, hungry strokes. Maddy braced her hands against the wall, moaning loudly with every powerful thrust. "Fuck... yes, just like that," she groaned, her voice thick with pleasure. "Pound Mummy's pussy harder, slave." Reeves groaned, breathing ragged as he slammed into her faster. "Yes, Mummy... you feel so good... so tight." Maddy pushed her ass back against him, meeting his thrusts. "Deeper... don't you dare slow down.
Fuck me like you mean it." He obeyed instantly, gripping her tighter and pounding her relentlessly, the wet sounds of their bodies filling the room while Maddy's moans grew louder and more uncontrolled. Maddy moaned loudly, pressing her hands harder against the wall. "Fuck yes... destroy Mummy's pussy, you filthy slave. Harder!" Reeves groaned, thrusting faster and deeper, his balls slapping against her. "Mummy... you're so wet... I can't hold it much longer."
Maddy laughed breathlessly and pushed her ass back to meet his brutal strokes. "Don't you dare pull out. Fill Mummy up like the pathetic cum slut you are. I want to feel you explode inside me." Her dirty words pushed him over the edge. With a loud, broken moan, Reeves slammed deep one final time and came hard, pumping thick ropes of cum deep inside her pussy from behind. Maddy moaned in satisfaction as she felt him pulsing and filling her. "Good boy... that's it. Give Mummy every drop." They stayed locked together for a moment, breathing heavily. Then Maddy straightened up and turned around, still wearing her mask.
"Now clean yourself up," she ordered calmly. "We're washing together. Use your hands and wash Mummy's body properly while my cum drips down my legs." Reeves nodded obediently, his cock still twitching. "Yes, Mummy." They stood under the warm shower, water cascading over them as he gently washed her body, his hands sliding over her wet skin while his own cum slowly leaked out of her.
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8.7
Ada was eight months pregnant, sitting peacefully in her husband's Manhattan estate, looking at a baby nursery catalog.
Suddenly, her husband's mistress, Jacklyn, walked in, threw an ultrasound photo on the table, and locked the door.
Before Ada could process the betrayal, Jacklyn dragged her to the top of the marble staircase and threw herself backward just as Desmond walked through the front doors.
"She pushed me, Desmond! She tried to kill our baby!"
Desmond looked at Ada with absolute hatred.
He ignored Ada's breaking water and her agonizing screams for help, leaving her to miscarry on the freezing floor while he rushed Jacklyn to the hospital.
He sent Ada to a brutal federal prison for three years, where she was tortured and left with a body covered in horrific scars, mourning the baby she was told died at birth.
When Ada was finally released, Desmond destroyed her cousin's company to force her back to his estate as a lowly maid.
But when Ada saw Jacklyn's three-year-old son, her world stopped.
Right in the center of the little boy's palm was a faint crescent moon birthmark.
It was the exact same mark Ada had kissed on her own lifeless baby's tiny hand before the doctors took his body away.
How did her dead child become Jacklyn's little prince?
Looking at the woman who stole her life and the husband who threw her in hell, Ada clenched her scarred hands and swore she would tear their world apart to get her son back.
9.5
My husband, Colton, the Wall Street mogul, slid annulment papers across the table, coldly discarding me and our unborn child. He thought he was getting rid of a useless wife, but he was actually throwing away the secret architect of his entire empire. Now, I'm ready to make him pay for every insult, every lie, and every single secret I've kept.
For three years, eight months pregnant, I secretly saved Colton's ten-billion-dollar company from collapse, enduring a cold, transactional marriage.
One night, he shattered that illusion, serving annulment papers and callously discarding me and our unborn child.
I signed, leaving luxury behind. Exposing his butler's fraud, I escaped. Colton later found his wedding ring gone and, on his desk, my SEC compliance fixes—proof I was his hidden genius.
Blindsided, he realized he’d destroyed his own empire. His mother then called, gloating. The injustice ignited a fierce resolve within me.
The next morning, I launched Kidd Legal Consulting. I'd use forty-seven folders of Farmer Capital's un-patched loopholes to force a fair settlement, securing my daughter's future.
8.4
Elia was an orphan from the rust belt, taken in by the wealthy Chapman family in New York.
To them, she was just a shameful charity case.
The parents shoved her into a dusty storage closet, treating their other daughter Geri like a delicate princess, and mocked Elia as uneducated trash.
When Elia secured her own admission to Manhattan Elite Prep, Geri's jealousy turned vicious.
Geri orchestrated a massive smear campaign, posting anonymously on the school forum that Elia was a violent dropout who sold her body to a sugar daddy to pay tuition.
In the cafeteria, the school's elite dumped dirty milk on Elia's food.
They called her a whore and told her to go back to the streets, while Geri watched from afar with a victorious, innocent smile.
They thought she was just a helpless stray dog who would easily break under their high-society cruelty.
They had no idea she was actually "L", the dark web's most feared hacker, and "The Surgeon", a genius medical anomaly.
They also didn't know she was currently tracking a dying Wall Street billionaire who had stolen her only necklace in a dark alley.
What made these arrogant rich kids think they could destroy a girl who played with international firewalls for fun?
Instead of crying, Elia calmly pulled out her phone.
Within seconds, she breached the school's server, locking every screen in the building onto a blood-red skull.
As Geri's own recorded voice plotting the fake rumors blasted through the PA system, Elia grabbed her bag, stepping back into the shadows to reclaim what was hers.
8.0
My wedding was tomorrow. I was a crisis counselor who had finally found peace with my loving fiancé, Dexter, and my best friend, Barbara.
A late-night call about a forced marriage led me to a hotel penthouse, where I found them naked in bed together.
It was all a cruel, three-year "savior game." They were bored heirs, and I was their project. They destroyed my career, caused me to lose our baby, and put my mother in the hospital.
They forced me to be a bridesmaid at their wedding-the one that should have been mine.
In front of hundreds of guests, they exposed my traumatic past and then tried to marry me off to a drunken stranger as a joke.
As I stood there, broken, a text from Barbara arrived.
"Your mother saw the livestream. She had a heart attack. She's not going to make it."
With nothing left, I ran to the 20th-floor window and jumped. They thought they had erased me. But my death was just the beginning.
9.2
I was a broke freelance copywriter, tortured for three sleepless nights by an impossible corporate client.
Needing to vent, I typed out a wild, highly inappropriate rant mocking the brand's stiff heritage.
But in my exhausted, sleep-deprived blur, I accidentally sent the massive block of text to the wrong chat.
The recipient wasn't my friend. It was Emerson Beard, the elite, ruthless brand consultant I was supposed to desperately network with.
I waited for the professional execution, terrified of the massive five-figure penalty fee hanging over my head.
Instead, he didn't block me. He critiqued my unhinged draft.
He saved my career through late-night, encrypted phone calls, his deep, commanding voice becoming my only lifeline.
But when I heard a woman with a sultry French accent knocking on his hotel door during our call, my ugly jealousy flared.
I yelled at him and hung up, completely humiliating myself.
I thought I was just a pathetic, annoying workaholic interrupting his romantic getaway.
But he texted back to clarify he was entirely single, and in the process, realized I was actually twenty-five, not a fresh-out-of-school teenager like he had assumed.
The cold, distant mentor instantly vanished.
In his place was a man radiating a raw, aggressive, and predatory energy that bled right through the screen.
"Texting is too inefficient. The full integration requires face-to-face communication."
He dropped a location pin for an ultra-exclusive Manhattan club, demanding I meet him to save my contract.
Wearing a desperately bought emerald silk dress, I pushed open the heavy oak door, stepping right into the trap of a man who had just taken off his leash.
7.2
Dr. Kylee Mcdonald was a brilliant medical examiner whose life was defined by cold, mechanical precision.
But that perfect control shattered when her phone rang in the middle of an autopsy.
It was her best friend, Dana, whispering their old college distress code.
"Curtain call."
By the time Kylee and Detective Justice kicked down Dana's door, she lay dead on her couch, her skin a horrifying cherry-red from cyanide.
The crime scene was clumsily staged to frame a billionaire suitor, but soon, every single suspect linked to Dana turned up violently dead.
Internal Affairs pointed the finger at Kylee, accusing her of using her medical expertise to become a vigilante serial killer.
But the encrypted truth Kylee uncovered was far more chilling.
Dana had been severely abused by her boyfriend, and driven to the edge, she manipulated him into murdering their tormentors before executing him and taking her own life.
To avoid a public scandal, the police chief buried Dana's brilliant, terrifying manifesto.
Kylee's flawless mind short-circuited. She was a genius at reading the dead, so why had she been completely blind to the living hell her best friend endured right in front of her?
Three days later, while attending a formal gala to numb her grief, a nearby apartment building exploded in flames.
As Kylee examined the charred bodies pulled from the rubble, she realized the male victim was strangled long before the fire started.
She looked at the surviving mother, whose baby had just died in the blast, but the woman's eyes were completely, terrifyingly empty.
The alarm bells in Kylee's meticulously ordered brain began to chime, signaling that a new, deadly script had just begun.