Cerita Pendek & Novel

Recently, whenever I get physically intimate with my wife, Alara Golding, I can never get it up no matter how hard I try. Alara recommends me to get a massage at a men's wellness center in order to regain my ability to do so. Unexpectedly, when I visit the wellness center, I find out that my cousin-in-law, Hannah Rivers, is actually working as a masseuse there. What I don't expect even more is that the way she massages me is seemingly going down the erotic route…

On my wedding day, Matteo Castello's younger adopted sister, Gisella Castello, delivers me a wedding gift consisting of a worn condom. There's a note pressed underneath said condom. "Lucia, I've already tested Matteo for you. He's really good in bed." I lose my mind on the spot. That night, I sleep with three of Matteo's friends, and I make sure to leave hickeys all over my body. The next morning, Matteo kicks open my room door. Soon, a few sacks are tossed into my room, courtesy of his subordinates. The men whom I've slept with the night before are the ones contained in those sacks. Shocked beyond my wits, I let out a blood-curdling scream. I can barely feel my limbs as I scramble away from those sacks. But Matteo reaches out to grip me by the chin and lift my head forcefully. "What are you afraid of? They were already plotting behind my back. I was worried that I might not be able to deal with them without a proper excuse. What I didn't expect is that you, my dear wife, are sweet and understanding enough to give me a reason for doing so." My head buzzes loudly at that moment. I can feel my blood running cold in my veins. Finally, I realize that this is just a trap that Matteo has set up for me. That's when I completely break down. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I do my best to flee from my room, only to get thrown into the punishment chamber in the end. What he doesn't know is that I'm already pregnant at that time. One year later, the punishment chamber's door is finally opened. Sunlight is cast onto my pale face. Everyone tells me that Matteo is here to take me home. Instead of saying anything, I take my phone and head over to a secluded corner, where I place a phone call. "I got released, Mr. Lombardi. Let's meet up."

On the day we're supposed to fill in our future universities, my childhood friend, Emma Slater, who's smart enough to attend a first-rate university, doesn't hesitate to fill a community university as the university she wants to attend the most. All of our classmates are stunned, to say the least. They quickly tell me to stop Emma from submitting that form. But I just smile at them faintly. "It's fine. I completely respect Emma's wishes." No one knows that I've been reborn. In my previous life, Ezekiel Smith, the low income student who had transferred into our class, claimed that he was a transmigrator who was here to save Emma. If both of them couldn't get into the same university, he'd get eradicated by the system. Emma kept obeying Ezekiel's every command, as though she was under his spell. I didn't have the heart to see her give up on her future, so I exposed Ezekiel's lies on the spot. At the same time, I managed to switch Emma's future university back to Kingswell University and Bellsgrave University right before the due date was up. While Emma did get to study at a prestigious university with me, Ezekiel ended up jumping off a building at the third-rate university. In his suicide note, he kept pointing fingers at me and claiming that I was the reason he failed his conquest, which led to his eradication. Because of that, Emma hated my guts to the point that she pushed me off the campus' rooftop, resulting in my own death. Now that I've gotten reborn again, I just want to watch Emma fall into the abyss.

In my previous life, I took the blame for the false son of the Stafford family and was sentenced to five years in prison. On the day I left jail, my family threw a grand birthday party for Charles. My only birthday present was the removal of my clothes and being frozen to death in the snow. When I opened my eyes, I was once again five years old. My parents stood before me, ready to take me home from the orphanage. My older sister, Juliet Stafford, rushed out from nowhere and blocked the door. She pointed at me—a boy dressed in rags—and shouted, "Dad, Mom! Leave him here, or he'll ruin everything!" Her emotional reaction was different from the one I saw in my previous life. That was when I realized she had been reborn too. After our parents left in disappointment, Juliet walked up to me and forced a piece of candy into my palm. Then she threatened, "Remember this. Chuck is the only son of the Stafford family. A curse like you is not welcome in our home."

My grandmother didn't have much time left. Before she passed away, she entrusted me to my boyfriend, Hunter Jones. As we held hands with our fingers interlaced, he promised to register our marriage in front of my grandmother's sickbed. However, the day after we registered our marriage, Sarah Moore, Hunter's female colleague, posted a picture of a marriage certificate with her and Hunter's names on it. There was a caption, stating, 'I know you have no choice but to agree to marry her. But as long as I'm the person you love most, I'm satisfied with only one month.' I went to find Hunter, intending to question him about what was going on. Instead, I overheard him chatting with his friend. "I'm indebted to Audrey's grandmother. I promised her that I would take care of Audrey for the rest of my life, so I have to take responsibility for her. As for Sarah, I can die without regrets if I can be her husband for a month in this life." His friend laughed and said, "Poor Audrey White. Aren't you afraid she'll get angry and run away when she finds out that the marriage certificate you got her was fake?" Hunter fell silent for a moment. "She will never find out. I'll just tell her that there was an error in the registration system and that we need to re-register. Audrey trusts me so much. She won't suspect anything," he added. However, his plans shattered when he tried to contact me to re-register our marriage. That was because he received my wedding gift for him, along with a wish that he and Sarah would have a long and happy life instead.

At the engagement banquet, Monique Walton is in the middle of telling all the guests and the viewers of the livestream that's taking place about our tale of romance. What she doesn't know is that I have already swapped out the romantic video of our sweet memories for the racy clip of her and Terry Caldwell going at it like rabbits. When the clip is presented on the monitor, everyone falls silent immediately. That's when the live comments on the livestream instantly overwhelm the comment section. Monique turns around in a fluster, the well-maintained smile on her face starting to crack bit by bit. She stumbles toward the control panel, accidentally knocking over the champagne tower in her haste. Amid the chaos, I draw to my feet and walk onto the stage. Then, I pick up the microphone Monique has just dropped. "Everyone, this engagement banquet is officially canceled. From now on, Monique Walton and I are no longer affiliated with each other."

In the dead of this frozen apocalypse, the shelter's fusion core was on the verge of overload. I grabbed my repair kit and sprinted for the basement, only to have the guard captain's girlfriend, Miranda Dunn, step right into my path. "Everyone, come look! Zach’s about to dump poison into the vents. He's gonna kill us all!" Her voice cut through the air as she shrieked. "I didn’t approve a private room for him two days ago, and now, he wants us all dead!" The guards didn't bother asking questions. They slammed me hard against the freezing metal door. "Zach, are you going to kill us all over a room? We're taking you in for interrogation!" I stared at the control panel, its readings spiking into the red, and shouted, "If the core blows up, none of us will make it out alive!" But they were too busy trying to impress Miranda and brushed off my warning, thinking I had lost it. Nineteen minutes remained before the core exploded.

Jackson Dalton, my roommate, was a deeply disturbed voyeur. His greatest hobby in life was spying on me. Back in school, he stole my underwear. After we started working, he set his sights on sleeping with the woman I loved, Caitlin Watson. Because we were close, he constantly crossed the line, making crude, sexual remarks about Caitlin, who was a flight attendant. "Those legs are insane. Wonder what it’d feel like to have them on my shoulders." Every time he ran his mouth, Caitlin would throw water in his face and curse him out. "Stay the hell away from me, you freak." For my sake, she never called the police on him, but every time he acted up, she made sure to humiliate him in public. The night I successfully proposed, I bought a new house. Jackson showed up with a full set of appliances as an apology gift. Wearing her diamond ring, Caitlin leaned into my arms, smiling like she was the happiest woman alive. All my friends said I was lucky to have such a beautiful and loyal fiancee, who even put my worst friend in his place. Until I got up in the middle of the night for a drink. I noticed the guest room door was slightly open. When I pushed it open, I saw Caitlin wearing a collar and being led on a leash while crawling on the ground.

My name is Haley Dixon. Ever since I was young, I knew I was different from other women. Other women have only one passage, but I have two—and both are extremely narrow. I'd heard that my mother was originally pregnant with twins, but a genetic mutation during the pregnancy caused my twin sister to die in the womb. I absorbed the part of her body that became my second passage, along with all of her estrogen. That was why I had a stronger desire than other women. As a teenager, I could use my little toys for up to four hours and still want more. For a while, I was almost proud of myself. I thought a rare treasure like me would be cherished and fiercely loved by any boyfriend. But after five consecutive boyfriends—every single one of them—bolted at the final moment, terrified by what they saw in my pants, calling me a monster and worrying I'd suck them in, I finally realized: maybe this wasn't being "different." Maybe this was a disease. But going to the hospital didn't help. Instead, they told me that my long-term use of foreign objects had led to an addiction disorder. I cried. Why did a monstrous woman like me have to suffer from this? Still, I didn't have time to wallow in misery, because the addiction tormented me day and night, stealing my peace and my sleep. So I went online and bought the largest set of toys I could find. Within just half a month, I'd broken them all—and my mild addiction had become severe. The toys were useless. It seemed I needed a man. But I no longer dreamed of finding a boyfriend. As long as someone could give me relief, any man would do. I signed up for a hookup app and chose the username: Double-Hole Slut.

When my wife, Rebecca Walsh, misses my chemotherapy session for the 99th time, I come across a post on social media. "I won my lover's heart with a kidney. She will surely love me to death, right?" The attached photo shows a couple kissing on a street in Targon. The woman has a small heart-shaped scar on her neck. What a coincidence—it is exactly the same as Rebecca's. The woman who nearly dies for me falls in love with someone else so easily. The comments below are full of encouragement from strangers. "Man, you're so brave. Wishing you everlasting love." "If I were the woman, I would love you to death." I leave a comment too. "I hope you are together until you are in the depths of hell, you cheating pair. As for me, the husband, I will step aside to make way for you." One minute later, the post disappears. It doesn't matter. I post on my own account. I write, "After I spent three years battling cancer, my wife fell in love with the man who's supposed to be the kidney donor." The attached images are our marriage certificate and the same photo of them kissing from earlier.

My father was hospitalized with a fractured bone. He needed someone to look after him. My wife, Alma, who was also a doctor, said she had to attend the Lancet conference abroad. She claimed it was an event she could not miss. While I was caring for my father, my younger brother, Jack, forwarded a short video to me. “Clyde, you need to look at this video of Alma.” In the video, Alma, who always took great care of her hands, was assembling parts on an assembly line at an electronics factory. I looked up info on who uploaded the photo. It was Tobias Zidel, a male nurse from her department. He captioned the video: [From the operating table to my assembly line. A true woman of all trades!] I resisted the urge to confront her. Instead, I forwarded the video to the department’s group chat. [I wonder how much Dr. Ashford earns per day working at Mr. Zidel’s family factory?] The group chat instantly exploded with messages. The video spread across the entire hospital. Alma bombarded me with frantic phone calls. She demanded that I retract the message. “Come with a written apology on Monday. You will apologize to Mr. Zidel publicly during the meeting!” I hung up decisively. Then, I scheduled an appointment to file for divorce. I did not want a wife like this.

My brother, Dylan Skinner, was diagnosed with kidney failure and needed a transplant. My mother shoved a voluntary donation form in front of me and tried to force me to sign it, but I refused. I told her that my immune system was weak, and I wouldn't survive with only one kidney. She answered with two hard slaps across my face and started yelling. "Dylan is dying, and you're still thinking about yourself? How could you be so selfish?" To force me into it, she stormed into my advisor's office, grabbed my research samples, and said she wouldn't give them back unless I agreed. As I met her hate-filled gaze, something inside me went completely numb.

I am the long-lost true heir of the Kensington family. In just the second month after reconciling with the Kensington family, I solved a technical problem that the Kensington Corp's Military Research Institute had failed to crack for five whole years. Yet, my adoptive brother, Sean Kensington, the fake heir, exchanged my patent bonus worth millions for a 20-percent-off coupon for a cup of latte. I went to my older sister, Sonya, the CEO, but she simply waved her hand dismissively, completely unconcerned. "Enough, Wesley. Sean just did it for your own good. If you're holding onto that much money, what if some organization set their eyes on you? This way, your safety is protected. "Besides, you've only come to the city not long ago. I doubt you've ever had something like a latte before. Take it as a chance to experience it. I'll even give you another ten dollars. You can buy yourself another cup." I looked at the condescension in her eyes, planning to send the recording to our parents. Yet, I saw on their social media that they had just bought a seaside mansion and a luxury car as a celebration gift for Sean's achievements. Then, I glanced at the coupon they had just sent me. [You did help Sean after all. Your father and I bought you a cake as a reward. Go pick it up yourself.] I checked the price. After discount, it was a mere 13 bucks. They had to be kidding me. I directly dialed the number of Kensington Corp's rival company, Jet Group. "I think the exclusive patent for this new missile should be yours. From now on, all my research results will only be shared with Jet Group."

My boss, Patrick Hoffman, has made a bad investment that fails. When the board wants someone to be held accountable for the loss, he makes me the fall guy. Now that I've been fired from the company, I can no longer make my mortgage payments. My wife, Georgia Lowe, ends up falling seriously ill as well. In dire need of money, I ask Patrick for my severance pay. Sitting in his luxury car, he simply tosses me a few hundred dollars, saying, "You expect me to give you severance pay? I lost over a billion dollars because of you, Heath! How dare you ask me for money? "Here. Take these hundred-dollar bills and buy your wife a decent coffin!" My fists clench as I watch him drive off. Later that night, I drop a bombshell in a group chat filled with investors and business owners. "Seeking employment—bringing years of professional experience in cooking the books to the table. My former boss has nothing but praise for my abilities!"

On my boyfriend, Draco Leroyce's birthday, I take him to a newly-opened fancy restaurant of my own for his birthday meal. Thinking that we'll be having a birthday cake for dessert later, Draco and I decide to order a set meal that includes a pizza and a plate of pasta. With a smile, I hand the menu over to the waitress. She plasters a fake smile on her face as she grabs the menu. But she secretly calls us "broke ass bastards" in Virellian. I draw my brows into a deep frown instantly. "What did you just say?" The waitress is momentarily stunned. Then, she shoots me another fake smile. "I said I'll prepare your food right away." I just sneer back at the waitress before responding to her in fluent Virellian, "You were calling us broke ass bastards."

In the third year since my husband, Axel Kramer, starts working as a rideshare driver, we finally manage to buy a home of our own. On the day we move in, he suddenly says to me, "Some friends want to come over for dinner tonight. I already said yes." I'm someone who values boundaries and doesn't like outsiders coming into my home. Even when we host relatives, we take them out to restaurants. "Can't we just go to a restaurant?" I ask. He looks helpless as he replies, "I already suggested that, but Lindsay said it would be more fun if we hang out at home. She said we should liven it up in our new home. And since everyone knows I'm a good cook, she wants to try my cooking too." One corner of my eye twitches with displeasure. Lindsay Brun is the female driver he's mentioned the most over these three years. She's also the only woman in their rideshare drivers' group chat.

On the day I'm about to quit the game, I see countless live comments flashing across my vision. "Yay! The male supporting lead is about to quit the game!" "Now, the male lead won't have to worry about getting exposed for using the male supporting lead's game account to get into online relationships with others!" "Our darling male lead is too smart, after all! Whenever he goes on dates, he often uses the voice chat function in the game. That's why the male supporting lead is still kept in the dark!" "Holy shit, Henry really is lucky!" "To think that he used Vincent's max-level account to flirt with the four richest female players on the server!" "Later at 2:00 pm, he'll be meeting his first date partner, Yvonne Johnson the cold and aloof campus belle, at Cosmic Coffee!" "Tomorrow, he'll be meeting up with the top assassin in-game! The day after that, he'll go on a date with the second-highest paying player of the game! Wow, his time management skills really are amazing!" The "Henry" whom the live comments are referring to is Henry Luster, my roommate. So, he's been flirting with four of the top-tier rich female players while impersonating me, huh? More live comments streak past my eyes at that moment. "Why isn't the male supporting lead leaving? Yvonne is already waiting for the male lead right now!" "This is their first romantic date as the leads of this story! I can't wait to watch it unfold!" As I turn to look at Henry, who's styling his hair before the mirror, I suddenly realize that I'm the supporting male lead whom the live comments are referring to. My lips curl into a small smile. Since Henry has been using my identity to become a virtual casanova, then it's not wrong of me to attend each date in person on his behalf, right?

"Draven, where the hell are you touching? That's Mrs. Miran!" At my son Draven Tarell's, birthday party, he was making a wish with his eyes closed. But his hand ended up right on my neighbor, Rina Miran's chest. Rina was wearing a deep V-neck, showing off her fair chest, and his hand was already on bare skin. But what I didn't expect was Rina looking like she was actually enjoying it. She even arched into his touch. I was even more shocked when I realized that her ripped son, Kian Miran, was eyeing me like I was his next meal.

My fiancée, Rachel Evans, was in a car accident before our wedding and had just woken up when I rushed over to the hospital. The bridesmaids surrounded her. "Rachel, you're finally awake! Your fiancé, Nicholas Shaw, was so worried when he heard you were in a car accident that he cried!" said one of them. "Now the wedding will have to be postponed." "Who's Nicholas Shaw?" Rachel asked with a frown. "Where's my boyfriend? Where's Jordan?" A hush fell in the ward as soon as those words fell. My face was pale as I stood in the doorway, for I knew very well who she was referring to. She was talking about Jordan Baxter, her first love.

Madison Hodge, my fiancee, thinks that weighing 160 pounds makes me too fat. So, I sign up for a gym membership and work out as much as I can. But the more I exercise, the more weight I put on. Meanwhile, Daniel Webb, a good buddy of mine, livestreams his supper every night. Despite feasting on the most calorie-rich food out there, not only does he not put on any weight, but he even loses ten pounds. As Madison rips into me for not losing any weight, I suddenly find myself able to hear the thoughts of my tabby cat, Furball. His mind goes, "Why are you so silly, Master? Daniel chose you as his target for the Weight Swapping System he has! No matter how many pounds you work off, it's Daniel who loses the weight. He's trying to ruin your life!" Feeling completely stunned, I turn to Daniel, only to see that he's staring at Madison with an affectionate gaze. Once again, I hear more of Furball's thoughts. "Daniel is hopelessly in love with that awful woman. Once he slims down, the two of them will start hooking up. They'll team up to take your life and live off your life insurance payout. They'll even enjoy their intimacy during your funeral!" Now that I know the truth, I simply let out a chuckle. Since this good buddy of mine loves losing weight so much, I'm sure he'll be extremely grateful to me if I make sure he weighs no more than 100 pounds, right?