Hand Job Story

“คุณแบล็คครับ คุณเอวาทำงานอยู่ที่บาร์XXครับ” “มึงว่าไงนะ!” “กำลังเต้นรูดเสาอยู่เลยครับ” มาเฟียหนุ่มวางปืนสุดหรูที่เพิ่งได้มาเป็นสินค้าใหม่ทันทีด้วยใบหน้าที่บอกบุญไม่รับ บาร์XX เสียงเพลงอีกทึกครึกโครมแสงไฟอันน้อยนิด หญิงสาวนุ่งน้อยห่มน้อย หุ่นเพรียว ผิวเนียนจรดทั่วทั้งตัว กำลังเต้นรูดอยู่บนเสาเหล็กเงาวับกลางบาร์ด้วยท่าทางพาเอาหนุ่มๆของขึ้นไปตามๆกัน “ไม่ได้กลัวตายเลยถูกมั้ย” เสียงทุ้มต่ำของชายหนุ่มร่างสูงรูปหล่อผิวขาวใส่ชุดดำสนิททั้งตัวพรางมีแมสสีดำปิดใบหน้า หญิงสาวเหมือนค้างกลางอากาศ แต่ก็ยังคงเต้นต่อจนกระทั่งชายหนุ่มปลดแมสสีดำสนิทที่ปิดหน้าลงจนเผยใบหน้าเต็มๆ “วอนตายมากซินะ” แบล็คเอ่ยพร้อมสายตาแสนน่ากลัว “ว๊ายยยยยยย” ผลัก!!!! ทุกอย่างเกิดขึ้นเร็วมาก หญิงสาวหล่นร่วงลงมาจากเสาที่กำลังเต้นเมื่อตกใจใบหน้าของชายหนุ่มที่ยืนจังก้ามองเธอตรงหน้า

เมื่อความสนุกคึกคนองจนทำให้ก้าวพลาดทำลายชีวิตผู้หญิงตัวเล็กๆคนนึงอย่างไม่รู้ตัว เมื่อผลของการกระทำเผยออกมาในรูปแบบของเด็กน้อยตาดำๆที่ไม่รู้อิโหน่อิเหน่ เมื่อพ่อไม่ได้รักแม่ และแม่ไม่รู้จักพ่อ เรื่องราวความดราม่าในความรักจึงเกิดขึ้น

At the wedding banquet, my fiancé arrived late with his first love in a best man's outfit, while the groom's suit was thrown on the sofa in a mess. "Quentin, today is our wedding..." "Natalie!" Quentin interrupted me sharply, his eyes full of warnings. "I think you should know what to say and what not to say. Be accommodating and don't make me hate you." I laughed bitterly. Just because Quentin's first love lost her memory, everyone was playing a game of finding memories with her, so we had to hide it from her and coax her, and not overwhelm her. In order to comfort me, Quentin came forward and hugged me, and whispered in my ear, "Nat, you can understand me, right?" I nodded to show my understanding, turned around, and took the hand of the real best man to join in holy matrimony. Later, when I was shopping in the mall while pregnat, he stopped me with tears in his eyes: "Nat, we were all acting, weren't we? How did you get pregnant?"

The new colleague at my company is a stingy mother. On her first day, she shows up with a huge pile of expired snacks that her son refused to eat and hands them out to everyone. Once we're done, she pulls out her PayPal and says, "These are all imported snacks for my son. I'll need 50 dollars from each of you." During a company team-building event, she refuses to participate, saying she has to go home to take care of her child. The day after, she comes over holding her phone and asks me for money. "I didn't eat with everyone yesterday. Since the company is footing the bill, just hand me the cash equivalent for my meal." Furious, I rejected her request immediately. What I fail to realize is that she would bear a grudge against me over it. One night, her son comes down with a high fever, so she calls me and requests a ride to the hospital using the company car. Once again, I refuse without a second thought. Because of the delay, her son suffers severe cognitive damage. She blames me for everything that happened. In a fit of rage, she ends up running me over with her car. As I open my eyes again, I find myself transported to her first day on the job.

From the time I was ten until I turned eighteen, my parents made me write 299 IOUs. Every time I needed money, I had to borrow it and pay it back as an adult. Then I got into a car accident. I needed money for surgery but was still short by 3,000. With no other options, I went to my parents for help. But they just gave me cold smiles. “Clara, you’re eighteen now. We have no obligation to give you money anymore. If you need it, write another IOU.” While holding back tears, I wrote my 300th IOU. After my surgery, I saw my adopted sister’s social media post. In the pictures, she was celebrating her 18th birthday on a cruise. She was the center of attention, like a princess. My parents had given her a luxury apartment in the city and a Maserati as birthday gifts. Even my childhood friend was looking at her with love in his eyes. She said they were the ones she loved and thanked them for giving her the best of everything. I looked down at the crumpled IOU in my hand and suddenly laughed. Once I paid off my debt, I would no longer need such a family.

Tarzan was an incredibly ruthless CEO, and his hatred for women ran so deep that he only allowed men to work in his company. This animosity was rooted in his mother's infidelity, which caused his father to suffer a fatal heart attack. Dolah, on the other hand, had a deep-seated hatred of men, stemming from her father's abuse which had ultimately led to her mother's death. Desperate to raise money for her brother's surgery, she decided to disguise herself as a man and applied for a job as Tarzan's personal assistant. Despite her clumsiness, Tarzan agreed to let her work while he searched for proof of his suspicions. As he worked with Dolah, he began to realize that she was unlike any other woman he had ever met. With so much animosity in their hearts, how would they ever find love? Follow the story of Tarzan and Dolah to find out more.

"Ms. Stout, please read the requirements carefully. Once you submit your personal profile and sign up, all of your information will be sealed. You must then enter the research institute within 15 working days. Until the research results are made public, you will not be allowed to leave." The response from the National Academy of Sciences Research Institute came quickly, accompanied by a form. Shermaine Stout stared at the screen, but the mouse in her hand suddenly felt as heavy as lead. The door to her room suddenly swung open, and Shermaine blinked, quickly closing the laptop without a trace of emotion.

I'm betrothed to Hylton Miller from the moment I'm born. For as long as I can remember, he protects and loves me like I'm already his wife. Even if I get a tiny splinter on my hand, he holds it carefully as he gently clips it away. That is, until the young woman his family sponsors offends a client and is about to be sent to Zubania. He drugs me with a glass of wine. When I wake up, I'm in a foreign country and trapped in an illegal factory. Here, I endure inhuman abuse, torment, even humiliation... At my lowest, when despair almost swallows me whole, that sponsored young woman appears before me in a pristine, custom-made white gown. She smiles sweetly and presses the play button on a voice recording. And from the speaker comes the voice I long for every day and night. "It's fine. Alina's the young lady of the Winslet family—they won't do anything to her. But Priscilla? She's different. Worst case, I'll make it up to Alina when she gets back…" In that moment, it feels like someone tears my heart open with their bare hands.

My husband, Dominic Moore, insists on having his first love, Irene Cobb, at our wedding ceremony. Just when it's time for the bride to enter the hall, he suddenly asks for the ceremony to be paused for three minutes. Then, he gets off stage and pulls Irene, dressed in a white gown, out of the crowd. Right in front of all the guests, he takes her by the hand and walks her down the aisle, saying, "I promised Irene I'd walk her down the aisle someday." The tearful Irene throws herself into Dominic's arms before saying to my in-laws, "Mom, Dad. Although I won't get to be your daughter-in-law, I still want to address you as Mom and Dad just once." She turns back to Dominic and kisses him passionately. The guests exclaim in shock and whisper among themselves, eager to revel in my humiliation. However, I simply open the doors with a smile. I take off my veil and place it on Irene's head. "Why do you say you won't get to be their daughter-in-law? Since you like this cheating scumbag so much, I'll give him to you."

After I slips and falls in the bathroom, I calls out to my boyfriend, Jared Hammond, for help. But all he does is accuse me of trying to seduce him in my wet clothes. "None of your tricks are going to work! I'm not touching you until Elsie graduates!" he yells. He rushes out to help Elsie Sandberg—the younger sister of his first love, who passed away—with her thesis, ignoring my cries and slamming the door behind him. The pain's so intense I nearly black out, but I manage to use the last of my strength to call an ambulance. Later, the doctor tells me I've suffered a serious fracture and need to be hospitalized. I tried to call Jared over ten times, but he never picks up. Then, I see Elsie's latest Instagram post. "Help! How do I win over a ridiculously hot professor?" The photo shows Jared's hand resting on hers as he patiently walks her through her thesis proposal, again and again. After being discharged from the hospital, I agreed to the marriage that Mom and Dad set up. "Yeah. The sooner the wedding, the better," I said.