Can I Download Little Robot For Free?

As the CEO of Sebastian Pictures, I have power and authority. I was the one who called the shots, constantly in the spotlight. I was meant to be the man in charge. Until I met Eloise, she was a junior art director at my subsidiary company. She also happened to be my best friend’s ex-girlfriend. To her, I was Mr. Dangerous in a suit—her new boss. For me, she was a challenge I couldn’t resist. I was used to getting what I wanted. I craved to own her, possess her. Now, we’d gotten ourselves tangled in a game where neither of us could win. But here’s the thing: the more we played, the more she turned the tables. She had me breaking my own rules.

We all know about the year 2996, when the vampires were in charge but what happened before that? How did the vampire end up taking charge of the whole world? The year was 2886, and the vampires are taking over the whole world, but what about the humans who refused to obey? This is the origin of Dom and Littles Academy story, the humans have ruled for a long, but it's now time for them to step down, to be controlled and ruled. They are submissives, all of them, but what type of submissive are they? A little? A slave? A regular submissive? Or maybe a pet? Humans are getting classified, changed, and ruled, it's time for the submissives to take their position in the bottom. Warning this story contains little, ddlg, ddlb, violence, and fluff. Apologies for any misspelling or grammar mistakes.

He didn't want her money. He wanted her. Elara Vance is one bad week away from losing everything. Her freelance career is barely keeping the lights on, her sister is falling apart on her couch, and her car is about to be repossessed. So when she accidentally damages a stranger's luxury car on an empty street, she knows she's ruined. But the man who steps out of the black sedan isn't interested in her insurance. He isn't interested in the police. He isn't even interested in the forty‑two thousand dollars she owes him. Adrian Volkov wants something else entirely. He's been watching her for weeks. He knows about her sister, her bills, her father's death. He knows she's desperate enough to do anything. And he's about to prove it. The contract is simple: she moves into his mansion, follows his rules, and becomes his Doll. In exchange, her debt disappears. No police. No record. No questions. But the rules aren't what she expects. The mansion is a cage, the servants know more than they say, and Adrian's cold exterior hides something darker than she ever imagined. He doesn't just want her body. He wants her submission. Her trust. Her surrender. And he won't stop until he has all of it. Elara tells herself it's just a transaction. A way to survive. But the line between obligation and desire blurs with every glance, every touch, every night she spends in his bed. The more he controls her, the more she craves it. And the more she learns about his past, the more she realizes: she was never the one in control. And now that she's his Doll, he'll never let her go. Doll is a dark romance with explicit content, power dynamics, and a slow‑burn descent into obsession. Recommended for readers 18+.

After Isabella is kicked out of her own home by her scheming stepmother and stepsister, she's left feeling lost and betrayed, with even her ex-fiancé turning his back on her. But fate throws her a curveball when she comes across an injured stranger and reluctantly decides to shelter him. Little does Isabella know, this Mr. Vagrant is a big shot in the city. But... this man she saved loved spending money so much that she almost went broke!

After my husband's death, I long for him so much that it becomes a mental condition. To put me out of my misery, my in-laws order a custom-made robot to be my companion. But I'm only more sorrowed when I see the robot's face—it's exactly like my late husband's. Everything changes when I accidentally unlock the robot's hidden functions. Late at night, 008 kneels before my bed and asks, "Do you need my third form of service, my mistress?"

On the eve of the National Robotics Championship, I smashed my carefully designed bot to pieces and announced my withdrawal. Everyone said I was a fraud who was quitting out of fear of being exposed. Online, the netizens mocked me relentlessly. Only one person, Adrian Cross, the so-called genius of the century, spoke up in my defense, his voice dripping with false sincerity, "I believe in River Lowell’s skills. Only he deserves to be my opponent. No matter what setbacks he’s facing, I hope he comes back to the arena and proves himself." In my previous life, the robot I built was identical to his. No matter how I tried to prove he had copied me, Adrian stood before the cameras, wearing his benevolent mask, and said, "It’s fine. This robot can go to River. I can always build something even better." His fans swarmed me, tearing me apart online, and no one believed in my talent. I swallowed the humiliation and vowed to rebuild my robot from scratch. However, when I was assembling it, the Power Core in my kit exploded, shattering my skull. That same night, I was rushed into the ICU. Netizens clapped and cheered, saying I got exactly what I deserved. That night, my girlfriend, Lila Hart, signed the hospital’s DNR consent form without hesitation. Until the day I died, I never understood how Adrian had gotten my robot’s data or why Lila had joined forces with him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day of the competition.