Dexter Laboratory Toy Novels & Stories

My best friend, Emily Summers, who had always been terrified of dogs, suddenly told me she was planning to buy a pet dog. That’s when I knew that she had been reincarnated too. In my previous life, I bought a pure white toy poodle from a pet shop. From the moment that little dog came into my home, everything in my life turned around. Morgan Hale, our manager who had always been at odds with me, suddenly offered me a promotion and a raise. Even the client I’d been struggling to win over for months personally requested to sign the deal with me. But the most unbelievable change of all? Silas Sullivan, the company’s tall, rich, and handsome CEO got down on one knee and proposed to me after a party, saying he wanted to marry me. I had said yes and even invited Emily to the wedding to witness my happiest moment. However, driven by jealousy, she stabbed me to death on the day of the wedding. "Why should someone like you get to marry a CEO while I’m stuck working three shifts a day like a damn slave?" The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at that moment, standing beside her, at the pet shop, looking at dogs…

️ Content Warning ️ This novel contains explicit sexual content, BDSM, power imbalance, rough play, captivity, obsession, dub-con / non-con themes, violence, dark romance, and mature language. It is intended for adult readers (18+) only. If you are uncomfortable with dark erotic themes, morally grey characters, or scenes of control and possession, please do not proceed. * * I never thought I could live my life this way—on my knees, collar around my throat, begging for the touch of a man who should terrify me. Milo isn’t just any man. He’s the mafia king everyone fears, the devil in a tailored suit. One mistake put me in his path, and instead of killing me, he claimed me. Now I’m his dirty secret, his toy, his pleasure pet. His orders are law. His punishments leave me shaking. His mouth is my undoing. I should hate him for owning me. I should run, scream, fight for freedom. But when he looks at me with those hungry eyes, I crave the cage he’s locked me in. Because being Milo’s possession feels better than being anyone else’s free man.

[Warning: mature contents, 18+]"What else can I do for you?" Caira asked as she helped her boss lay on the bed"Help me up, I'll like to use the bathroom first" Mikel said. Caira walked him to the bathroom and was about turning back to leave when she felt him drag her back and pushed her against the bathroom wall, he placed his right hand high above her head and used left hand to grab her waist. He then placed his lips on her lips. caira's eyes widened in shock when she felt his lips on hers. She closed her eyes as she enjoyed every taste of his lips, but this got interrupted when she felt his hands beneath her thighs"Sir!... please stop" she stuttered as his touch brought cold shivers down her spine"I want you Zoey, I want you right now....What happens when a teenage girl from a poor home decides to work for her celebrity crush whom is nothing but a handsome Playboy with a heart of ice? What happens when the naive teenage girl gets pregnant for her Playboy who only wanted her as a sex toy and not a wife?

I was the "Sickly Prince"—a weak scholar hidden in oversized suits. But in the underworld, secrets are the only currency that matters, and mine is the most lethal of all. Aradaa Vaelis has spent twenty-one years hiding his elite combat training from his tyrannical father, the Don. But when his father gambles away his sister’s life, Aradaa is forced to shatter his facade. To save his sister, Aradaa makes a deal with the devil: he will become a human sacrifice for the Dreadfang Clan, a savage "Beast" Mafia known for their monstrous strength. His buyer? Kaelor Dreadfang. Known as the "Beast King," Kaelor is a man losing his mind to a feral rage and a slow poison. He doesn't want a soldier; he wants a "pretty toy" to break. But the moment they touch, a primal Mate Bond ignites—a shockwave of desire that neither can fight. Now, Aradaa is trapped in the King's Master Suite, serving as Kaelor’s "Exclusive." But as the Syndicate moves to destroy them both, Aradaa’s true lineage begins to surface. He isn't just a slave or a scholar—he is the Pure-Blood, the only one capable of curing the bio-weapon plague and ruling the underworld. The "Pretty Prince" is dead. The King’s partner has arrived. And together, they will burn the Syndicate to the ground.

Oh yeah,” she let out a strangled moan when his girth hit her spot and the sensation almost made her combust on the spot. His hand dug into her hair as he drilled into her repeatedly, letting out muffled grunts with each thrust. As she held onto his rippled muscles on his back, drawing him close, Camille knew she shouldn’t be doing this, letting her best friend’s brother use her as his personal toy when she was right in the next room, asleep and completely unaware of everything going on. *** When Camille’s roommate and best friend Lucia, invites her heartbroken older brother to their apartment for only a month to recuperate, she expects to meet a depressed, quiet and needy ex-lawyer, who lost everything after his heartbreak. However, when Camille meets the drop-dead gorgeous player with a thick British accent when he throws a party at their house, she discovers he is the complete opposite of what she imagined. What happens when Camille finds herself falling hard for the very man she swore to both herself and her best friend, to never feel that way towards. What happens when he makes it extremely difficult for her to resist him and they begin an explicit but forbidden romance without her best friend’s knowledge.

On my fifteenth birthday, I begged my mom to teach me how to make a cream cake from scratch. We only had cream at home. No flour. So we went out to buy some. When we came back, we didn't walk into a birthday surprise. We walked in on my father pressing a strange she-wolf down onto the dining table. Cream was smeared all over her bare body. That night ended with my parents signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. From that day on, cake became my nightmare, a taboo I could never touch. The night I mated with Alpha Kaelen of the Shadow Pack, amidst the pain and pleasure of his marking bite, I whispered in his ear. "Honey, if you ever want to end our mating, just bring me a cake." He frowned, his eyes burning with possessiveness, and kissed the words away. "Don't talk nonsense, Seraphina. You are my fated mate. How could I ever let you go?" Later, on his birthday, his intern secretary Elena ordered a three-tier luxury cake. Kaelen went into a rage, throwing both the cake and the intern out the front door. Back then, I was moved, even telling him not to be so harsh on a low-ranking wolf for my sake. But six months later, Elena had been promoted to Kaelen's personal assistant. On my birthday, she walked into my laboratory, swinging her hips, holding a burnt, homemade cake. I called Kaelen, asking him to remove the provocative item. On the other end of the line,his tone was casual. "Elena put her heart into making that for you. It would be cruel to throw it away. Be a good girl, don't be so sensitive. Have the grace of a Luna." The phone slipped from my hand. It turned out my mother wasn't wrong. Cake really is best served with a side of rejection papers.

I died listening to my husband fuck his mistress in our bed. Six months pregnant, I bled out on the bathroom floor while they laughed in the next room, while Scylla moaned his name loud enough for me to hear through the walls. The last thing I heard was my husband telling her she felt better than I ever did, and the last thing I felt was my baby going still inside me. Then I woke up. Not in heaven, not anywhere I recognized. In a penthouse overlooking the city where I died, with a man standing over me who said he brought me back as an experiment. Zephyr Arcanis, billionaire, recluse, apparently the only person alive who knows how to resurrect the dead. He gave me three years before my borrowed time runs out, three years to do whatever I want with this second life. I chose revenge. I should focus on destroying Dexter and Scylla, on making them pay for what they did to me and my baby. But Zephyr watches me like I'm a puzzle he can't solve, touches me like he's afraid I'll vanish, and when I get close to my ex-husband for the plan, Zephyr's jealousy turns vicious in ways that terrify and thrill me. He says he doesn't feel anything, says I'm just an experiment to test his power. Then why does he bleed when I hurt? Why does his skin turn pale every time he saves me? And when my three years are almost over, why does he whisper that he'll die in my place if it means I get to keep living?

Six years ago, a corporate acquisition deal I handled went up in flames, and 50 billion dollars vanished into thin air. Bankrupt investors spray red paint all over my front door for a year straight. Dad died from a stroke, and Mom lost her mind and disappeared. I ended up doing six years in prison for embezzlement. After I got out, I changed my name and started delivering food in downtown, running myself ragged for a few bucks per delivery. But then my ex-wife, Shirley Pearce, showed up, and the entire delivery station ground to a halt. She had become a financial powerhouse, a regular on the covers of business magazines. Reporters blocked my delivery scooter, shoving microphones in my face. "Mr. Marcus Quinn, Ms. Pearce has been single for six years, paid off all your debts, and she's been waiting for you to come home!" I stared at that perfectly made-up woman with her adoring eyes and felt nothing but disgust. That so-called "devoted" ex-wife of mine? Six years ago, she had forged company seals to help her boy toy short the stock market. Then, when everything fell apart, she threw me under the bus to save herself.

When Naomi Sullivan married me, she was already ten million dollars in debt. I spent the last five years working three jobs to help her pay off her "debts" while providing for her as well as our son, Shane Lewis. Not once did I ever complain about anything. All along, I firmly believed that my efforts would pay off, and we would eventually lead a good life together. Last week, our company finally secured a massive investment. Naomi and I hugged as we celebrated the occasion. I thought that the hard times were finally over. Today, I ended up seeing Naomi featured in the financial news. Dressed in a formal gown, she was hailed as the sole heiress to a multi-billion-dollar empire. She was shown engaged in an animated conversation with her "investor", Jared Lewis. The news headline read, "Naomi Sullivan Completes Five-Year Adversity Trial, Proves Her Ability to Build from Scratch to the Board of Directors". I trudge home in a daze. When I get there, the five-year-old Shane is playing with the latest limited-edition toy robot. He looks at me with a frosty, distant expression that bears an uncanny resemblance to his mother's. "Mommy told me everything. You failed the trial, Daddy. You care too much about money."

“You’re pretty, but I don’t like ungrateful little boys, bébé.” He informed, clicking his tongue, and pinching my nipple. A moan escaped my lips before I could stop it. What is wrong with me? “So you do love my touch, Ivan.” He teased in satisfaction, his eye’s darkened in lust. My body trembled from his intense stare on my body. Pretty, Bébé, and the stares. He wasn’t straight. “You’re…into men.” I stuttered in realization. He shook his head in response, spinning me around. “No, Ivan. I like naive little boys like you.” He admitted, his eyes lowering to my groin. “How about you?” His eyes were fixed on my groin, “You don’t look that straight to me.” Cristiano Vito is known for his ruthlessness in the underworld, but there was one secret they didn’t know—He’s not straight. What happens when he is being forced to marry a woman against his wish? He detests the idea, and fights against it, but Ivan Hernandez—his fiancée brother changes his mind. Cristiano is determined to have him as his new toy, and agrees to marrying Mia to get closer to Ivan. But the problem? Ivan wasn’t into men or was he?