Futa On Male

I'd made plans to spend New Year's Eve with my fiancee, Sophie Bennett. I'd even rushed home with a custom cake I picked up just for us. However, my smile slipped the second I walked in. A photo of Sophie and me that was hanging on the wall was being used as a dartboard. Her guy best friend, Sean Hewitt, had one arm wrapped around her waist while casually throwing darts at it. "Oh, hey, you're back?" he said with a grin. "Perfect timing. We're playing Truth or Dare." The words had barely left his mouth when another dart hit the photo—right in my face. My chest tightened as I parted my lips to call him out. Yet, Sean only laughed. "Wow, hit you again? Guess even fate thinks you two aren't meant to be." Then, he added, all fake innocence, "Don't get the wrong idea, alright? It's just a game. Sophie and I are basically bros. You're not seriously bothered by this, are you?" I stood there, completely still. As I stared at that photo completely riddled with holes, I couldn't help but think it looked a lot like my heart at that moment. Sophie gave him a half-hearted scolding. "Alright, cut it out." But Sean just put on a wounded look and kept his arm around her waist. Sophie only smiled helplessly before turning to me with clear impatience. "Sean's just messing around. Don't stand there with that look on your face and kill the mood. It's just a photo. We can print another one tomorrow. Stop being so petty."

"What's that bulge? It looks different from mine." My eighteen-year-old neighbor, sweet but simple, stared curiously at the place between my legs, a hungry glint in her eyes. I played dumb. "Why don't you show me what yours looks like?" To my surprise, without the slightest hesitation, she suddenly tugged off her little white skirt, revealing a smooth, bare patch of skin. "See? Right here—it's totally flat. There's nothing at all."

The woman he loves marries another man on his 18th birthday. He's alone during his birthday party, and he finishes the cake himself. She deliberately pushes him away and neglects him, even skipping out on his birthday party. Unfortunately, she doesn't know that this is his last birthday ever. He's about to die, and it'll happen on her wedding day.

I went to the hospital for a minor surgery, but when I woke up, I found myself locked inside a psychiatric hospital. Just as I was about to look for a doctor or nurse to explain the situation, the intercom suddenly buzzed. “There are currently 40 patients in this facility. The administration has discovered that impostors have infiltrated the group and are using up shared resources. “Starting today, there will be one public vote each day. Everyone will work together to vote out the impostor. Anyone voted out will be executed on the spot. “The voting period will last five days. If all impostors are eliminated within five days, the patients win and are allowed to survive. “If the game ends and any impostors remain undetected, all patients will be wiped out and the surviving impostors will be safely released from the facility.”

On our Christmas break road trip, my cousin Felix Lloyd spotted some high-powered speakers at a highway rest stop. He had to have them—said he wanted to "blast it." "It's Christmas. We finally get to see everyone! We need some vibe!" My wife, Lana Ramsey, smiled and helped him pay. "Young people have energy. They know how to enjoy life." I yanked the power cord out. "Those aren't for regular cars. This is an EV. Overload it, and the whole system fries. Then what—just stuck in the middle of nowhere?" Lana's parents, Vincent and Donelia, booed me, calling me a buzzkill. Felix cranked the volume all the way up. Lana glared at me. "Say one more word and get out. I'll drive." Later, the speakers fried the battery system. We were stranded in total darkness on a rough mountain road. They finished the last of the food, then shoved me out to "go find help." I slipped, rolled down the slope, and died. When I opened my eyes, I was back—right when Felix jammed the speaker plug into the charging port. I grabbed a few more subwoofers and handed them over. "One isn't enough. Add more. That's how you really crank it."

I'm the best plastic surgeon in the industry. Hendrick Twain is a regular customer of mine who has gotten his manhood enlarged nine times via surgery. But after I performed the latest surgery on him, he decides to linger around in my clinic instead of leaving. He keeps showing off his brand-new luxury watch while gloating to me, "Isn't this watch pretty, Dr. Yard? Winona was the one who gifted it to me." Upon noticing my lack of reaction, Hendrick approaches with a smile on his face. Then, he lowers his voice. "What's the use of preserving your chastity, anyway? Winona prefers to be with a plastic hunk like me, who's gone through nine manhood enlargement procedures, than be with you, Mr. Au Naturale." As I stare at Hendrick's face, which has gone under the knife countless times for minor adjustments, I remember the excuses Winona Grahm made to my face every night to avoid going home. Just the memory makes my gut churn in disgust. All of my grievances and disgust turn into ice at that moment. Finally, I take the wedding ring off my ring finger and place it on the desk gently. Then, I grab my phone and dial the number, which I haven't called in the past three years. "Dad." I sound eerily calm on the phone. "Since Winona thinks marriage is nothing but a joke to her, then there's no need for the Grahm family to continue existing in this world."

My wife has an emotional breakdown after being violated. She insists I'm the one who orchestrated it, but both our parents know her true love is the actual culprit. Still, they don't object to her insane retaliation. They even have me locked up in a prison abroad. As I'm tormented, she sells my company to help her true love get away scot-free. Ultimately, he's set free, but I die without even having a final resting place. When a judge informs her to collect my body, she sneers and says, "I've had enough of this nonsense. Does he think he can get away with a fake corpse? I won't even bat an eye if his body is flushed down the drain! He's nothing but a disgusting criminal!" Later, she realizes that I've truly died. She's delighted, but her laughter soon turns to tears as she holds my corpse.

I was slowly dying from Silverthorn Wolfsbane, and there was only one cure—the Miracle Elixir. But my mate, Leah Ashford, bought it and gave it to my adoptive brother,Jason Smith. She did it because she thought I was faking my illness. I gave up on the treatment and swallowed a potent painkiller instead. It would kill me in three days by shutting down my organs. In those three days, I gave up everything. I handed over the fur manufacturing business I built from the ground up to Jason, and my parents praised me for caring about my brother. I offered to sever our mate bond, and Leah praised me for finally being sensible. When I told my son he could call Jason "dad", he happily said that his new dad was the best! I transferred all my savings to Jason, and no one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. They were just pleased with my "better behavior". "Victor is finally not so bad." I wondered—would they regret it after I was gone?

My family and I have gone on a road trip. But when I help an old lady to her feet after she suffered from a fall in the rest stop, my wife, Cindy Ford, who has been chatting animatedly with me the whole time, scowls at me instantly. "I never knew you were this underhanded! Just the sight of you disgusts me! Get lost!" Even my eight-year-old daughter, Tessa Hayes, glares at me disdainfully. "I don't want someone like you as my dad!" With an ashen face, Cindy whisks Tessa into the car immediately. Just like that, they abandon me at the rest stop. What I don't expect is that my in-laws actually call me on the phone and insult me as a walking jinx after finding out about the incident. Now, they want Cindy to get a divorce with me as soon as possible. Furious, I return to my childhood home and dump all of my emotional load on my parents. But my parents, who have always doted on me, don't console me at all after they find out I've helped an old lady up. Instead, their expressions go stormy. "How on earth did we end up having a son like you? You should just die already!" My parents kick me out of the house right away. Dazed and disoriented, I end up getting struck and killed by an incoming truck. Even as I breathe my last, I never understand what I've done wrong. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I help the old lady up to her feet.

Three years ago, my childhood sweetheart, Eleanor Carter, left me at the altar to marry Dillan Perez—the adopted son of my family. The church erupted in whispers. I became the laughingstock in a single breath. Then Victoria Brown—the aloof, formidable CEO of the Brown Group—stepped forward. "I'll marry you, Lambert," she said, her voice cutting through the wreckage of my pride. I said yes. For three years, she was the perfect wife. Gentle. Attentive. She was my salvation. But there was one thing that always hung between us like a quiet ache—we never had a child. The doctors found nothing wrong with either of us. Victoria would just smile softly and say, "It will happen when the time is right." Today, I came home early. The door to our bedroom was slightly open. I heard her voice. She was on the phone with her best friend. I didn't mean to listen. But then I heard my name. "Lambert wants a child with me," she said. "But he doesn't know I've been on birth control the whole time. That's why we never got pregnant." My blood turned cold. "As long as he has no heir," she continued, "Dillan's place in the Clark family stays secure." I stood there, frozen. My hands went cold. My heart shattered into pieces. I was just a tool to protect the man she truly cared for. I didn’t confront her. Instead, I calmly planned my death—a quiet disappearance from her world.