Booktok Guys Novels & Stories

My husband, Shawn Payne, goes bankrupt overnight. That very night, he ships me and our son, Tommy Payne, off to a deserted island, claiming it's the only way to keep us safe from his creditors. Worried sick about leaving him to face the danger alone, I sneak back home halfway there, only to find him throwing a wild party, his arms wrapped tightly around a beautiful woman. His best friend, Ryan Foster, needles him. "You dumped your wife and son in the middle of nowhere. How are they going to survive out there?" Shawn shrugs like it's no big deal. "Yvonne's closing down her dog food factory anyway. I had all the surplus kibble repackaged and shipped to the island. It's more than enough to keep them fed for a few years." The woman, Yvonne Sullivan, purrs and snuggles deeper into his chest. "Oh, babe, you're so good to me and the baby," she coos, gently stroking her belly, which isn't even showing yet. He taps the tip of her nose affectionately. "You're so innocent and soft-hearted. If I don't look out for you, who will?" He pulls Yvonne closer and continues, "For your sake, I had to ship that shrew off to some godforsaken island. If she ever found out you were pregnant, she'd tear you apart. Once you have the baby and she turns two, I'll bring them back. By then, it'll be a done deal. There's nothing she can do about it." His words hit me like a ton of bricks. A cold sweat soaks me to the skin. Three years later, right on schedule, he calls. "Hey honey, how are you and Tommy doing? I'm ready to come pick you guys up." I glance at the man beside me, and a rush of satisfaction washes over me. "We're doing great," I reply. "My new husband treats both me and your son incredibly well."

Shortly after we said "I do," the Family sent my husband, Dario, down to the Mexican border. He told me it was a meat grinder down there—cartel territory. where guys were zipped into body bags every day. He said he had to go—to expand the territory, for the glory of the Family. He claimed it was too dangerous and that his enemies would paint a target on my back, so he wouldn't take me with him. I believed him. I stayed behind in his old, rot-infested house in New Jersey, taking care of his bitter, spiteful parents. I spent my days and nights in the Family's moldy laundromat, washing bills stained with blood. He told me he sent every dime he made down there to the widow of a brother who took a bullet for him. He asked me to be understanding. I never complained. Day after day, I pressed expensive suits in that humid laundromat, waiting for him to come home. It wasn't until the eighth year that a mobster came back drunk. When I asked about Dario, he froze, then sneered at me through a haze of alcohol. "Dario? Are you kidding? He’s been a King in Manhattan for years. He’s the youngest Underboss of the Corleone family." I stood frozen, the iron in my hand burning a hole right through a shirt. "And he got married seven years ago. Biggest cathedral in New Jersey. Half the mob was there to toast the groom..." He pulled a crumpled photo from his leather jacket. Snuggled up against my husband was a woman in a high-end couture gown—the very same "poor, widowed sister-in-law" he had told me about. The next day, I contacted a fixer who specialized in fake IDs. On the application for a one-way ticket to Europe—a ticket to vanish off the face of the earth—I filled in the fake name I had prepared long ago. He trapped me for seven years with a sham marriage. From now on, I’d be done with this damn loyalty.

He spread her thighs wider with firm hands, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin inches from where she needed him most. “Look at this pretty little pussy,” he said, voice reverent. “So wet for your stepdad. So needy.” Lila moaned, hips lifting toward him instinctively. He pressed one thick finger along her slit—slow, teasing, gathering her wetness without pushing inside. “You’re going to show me again. Put your fingers where mine are.” She obeyed, sliding two fingers down to circle her clit. The touch was electric with him watching. ~~~~~~~~ WARNING: 18+ This book is HOT and very adult-only. It has lots of steamy daddy kink, taboo age-gap stories, "good girl" praise, claiming, punishments that feel good, and explicit scenes. Everyone in the stories is a consenting adult 18+. Pure fantasy fun. If you're under 18, please skip this one. Imagine a big, strong Daddy who can't stop wanting you. He calls you his little pet. He makes you feel so good when you obey. In these 500 hot stories, older men take charge. Strict stepdads, protective guardians, powerful guys—they all claim their sweet, naughty girls. Age gaps make everything hotter. One look is enough to ignite something neither of them can resist. Soft "good girl" words turn into hungry kisses. Punishments feel amazing. He holds you tight, fills you up, and whispers you're his forever. Every story is quick, dirty, and full of that daddy heat—praise that makes you melt, rough hands that feel perfect, nights where you beg for more. All fantasy. All adults saying yes. All so addictive. If you love thinking "Yes, Daddy" and feeling wanted, this huge collection is for you. Start reading... he won't let you stop. 18+ only. Get ready to feel your thighs clench and your pulse race.

I've founded a company that doesn't encourage overtime shifts, pays everyone on time, and doesn't impose performance evaluations on the employees at all. My employees are free to bring their pets to work. All of their applications for leave will be approved immediately. Heck, they have unlimited leave as well. I originally think that my employees will like me a lot thanks to these benefits. But I never expect my company to be featured on the Internet one day. It even gets labeled as a sweatshop, much to my shock. "Guys, I can't believe I got hired by a sweatshop company. The boss is extremely stingy who pays us low wages while pretending to be a nice guy this whole time!" My company is then shown in the video. The narrator's voice has been edited, so I can't tell whose voice it is. As I stare at the tranquil office scene in real-time, I find myself falling into deep thought. Meanwhile, the video is still going on. "Let me tell you how evil my boss is. Every other company tends to distribute gifts during the holidays that like food and luxury items. But my boss doesn't bother giving us any of the gifts. He uses the excuse that our company is a very flexible and humane company, so we don't do any gift-giving at all. As if! "He also claims that we don't have to undergo any performance evaluation. In other words, that means our wages aren't transparent at all. Maybe he's been secretly docking our pay behind our backs this whole time! "Being paid thousands of dollars for this job is already bad enough! To make things worse, I'm forced to listen to my boss boast about everything in the world! Do I look like I have that much time on my hands to listen to him blabber? I'm not his mom, for crying out loud!" Everyone in the comment section doesn't hesitate to lash out at me. "Holy shit, I can't believe such soul-sucking companies still exist! Poor you!" "Why are you still staying in that stupid company? Hurry up and leave! If I were you, I wouldn't be able to stay there for a minute longer!" "That's right! That boss of yours is an evil capitalist! He deserves to die!"

Before the drop tower started, my best friend gave a look, and my boyfriend, with perfect tacit understanding, suddenly unbuckled his safety harness and ran off with her. I was left completely stunned on the drop tower by myself. My boyfriend stood in the safety zone with a beaming smile. "Freya said you're a scaredy-cat and need to be frightened more to get braver, so you're riding alone." The drop tower started. Looking at my comical appearance when terrified, my best friend held her stomach, laughing uproariously as she took photos. My boyfriend opened his mouth to say something as he helplessly steadied the camera lens for her. I couldn't hear the words he said, but I guessed it must have been: "Once you've laughed enough, don't tease her again. It's bad enough Cleo's so shy." I'm a timid person. Growing up together for twenty years, this was always how they accompanied me to build my bravery. When we were little, my best friend intentionally threw pebbles to draw over stray dogs. Then, he carried her on his back to climb up a wall, leaving me to be chased by the dogs and run all over the courtyard. During high school, in the vaulting class, my best friend suddenly pulled away the mat. He laughed and kicked away the rolling foam pad, watching me receive two bloody gashes from the impact. In college, we went on a night hike together. My best friend intentionally shook me off, and he followed her into the bushes to make noises, leaving me in the dark, so terrified I couldn't catch my breath. Every single time I shook with fear, it was met with a bout of loud laughter from my best friend. And standing behind her, he was forever saying a single phrase: "Don't do it next time." However, each "next time" would turn into a new joke for her happiness. The drop tower climbed to twenty meters, and the sensation of weightlessness pushed right up to the back of my throat. Suddenly, though, I felt there was nothing left to be afraid of. The drop tower reached the ground, and two pairs of hands reached over to support me. I pushed them away. "From now on, I don't need you guys to help me build my courage anymore."

My cousin, Jeffrey Coleman, whom I haven't gotten in touch with for years, suddenly shows up on my doorstep. "Chris, if I remember correctly, you have a Toyota Crown parked in your garage, right? Lend it to me as my wedding car, alright? "We're cousins, so I'll pay you 500 dollars. Aren't I generous?" The Toyota Crown Jeffrey has mentioned is an original model from the 90s. It's still coated in the same paint it was produced in. My grandpa has left it to me. Over the years, I've already sunk in more than 100 thousand dollars just to renew every part. And now, Jeffrey thinks he gets to drive the car after paying me 500 measly dollars? I turn him down tactfully. "The car's far too old, Jeffrey. I'm worried that it might break down halfway to the wedding venue and cause a delay on your big day." Unexpectedly, the moment Jeffrey gets home, he's quick to issue everyone in the family group chat e-invitations. "I've already booked the wedding car! It's a Toyota Crown that's produced in the 90s, and it's still in its original glory! This car is definitely better than Porsche and Mercedes! "On the big day, this car will be in charge of picking up the bride and groom twice! Of course, the newlyweds get to ride this car. If there are any other relatives who want to share the ride, leave a message here!" Everyone is quick to praise Jeffrey for his quick wits. To think that he's capable of borrowing something vintage from the older generation! On Jeffrey's wedding day, he shows up outside my garage with a dozen or so people. "Open up, Chris! Where's the car key? We're in a hurry, you know!" Soon, the garage door is opened from the inside. The Toyota Crown isn't there. Instead, a police cruiser is parked in its place. A traffic officer can be seen crouching on the ground while taking photos for evidence. "You guys plan on driving the Toyota Crown? Someone has reported this car for not meeting the qualifications, and that it's suspected to be used in an illegal business. I'm going to need all of you to make a trip to the police station with me." Jeffrey panics immediately. "We didn't even get to drive it yet! How is this illegal?" The traffic officer glances up at him. "The report has included tens of hundreds of conversation screenshots. You've publicly posted the routes and even invited people to ride with you in the group chat. "Please explain to me what your actions mean, if not advertising your ride to get more customers."