Male Empress Novels & Stories

The New Year was just around the corner. While I was doing a thorough cleaning, I stumbled upon something beneath the couch. It was a damp, used condom, and it still had a faint lipstick stain on the edge. One thing I was sure of was that I didn't use this brand, but the lipstick color? It matched perfectly with my girlfriend Lindsey Stirling's.

On the fourth day after our son died, I decided to end my military marriage. Before that, I spent three days taking care of what remained of him. On the first day, I tricked my wife into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to my son's school and collected the textbooks he never had the chance to use. On the third day, I prepared a table full of his favorite dishes and begged my wife to come home so we could celebrate his birthday one last time. She agreed. Then she turned around, claimed she had a mission, and spent the entire night setting off fireworks with her childhood sweetheart. That night, I sat beside my son's memorial photo and ate alone. The next day, she came home looking guilty and handed me a brand new backpack. She said it was a gift for our son to use at school. She did not know that our child would never live to see his first day of school.

My wife, a doctor, treated our daughter like a walking blood bank. When our daughter passed away, she took it even further. She transplanted her corneas into her old flame’s son. Before our daughter’s body was even cold, she was out having dinner with her ex and his son. They were celebrating that the boy could see again. She even went so far as to secretly burn our daughter’s body to get rid of any evidence. By the time I got there, all I saw was my daughter's ashes being swallowed up by the flames. I told her I wanted a divorce. She just sneered, “It’s only a daughter. Are you really going to divorce me over this?” But later, she was down on her knees, begging me not to leave her.

On the first day back after the New Year break, I returned to find my workstation gone—replaced by two large trash bins sitting side by side. "Josh, even though you've been with the company for ten years, you still have to comply with company arrangements. "You were supposed to be reassigned before the holiday. We held off so you could enjoy your New Year. You should be grateful." As he spoke, my boss pointed toward a corner beside the restroom. There sat a set of low, worn desk and chair—something that looked like it had been discarded by an elementary school. I set my bag on it. The desk wobbled twice, then collapsed outright. Amid the muffled snickers around me, I didn't argue or make a scene. I simply looked at the boss, calm and steady. "You don't have to go through all this trouble to force me out. I'll resign now. I'll forfeit the compensation—just process it as quickly as possible." His eyes lit up, though his face feigned regret. "Since you've made up your mind, there's not much I can say. But the Vespere chip you've spent ten years developing belongs to the company—you have no right to take it with you. "Oh, and when you handle the paperwork, don't forget to pay for that cup of coffee in your hand. It's an employee benefit. As an outsider now, you'll have to cover the cost." I nodded and signed the termination agreement without resistance. But the moment I stepped out of the company, I activated the self-destruct program embedded deep within the chip's core.

Tracie Conner has saved my mom's life before, so I've given her ten chances to make mistakes. On the day of our engagement, Tracie fled the venue with her first love, Elton Stafford. I chose to forgive her. On the day my mom gets discharged from the hospital, Tracie and Elton can be seen making out passionately with each other at the main entrance. I merely ignore them. In the year after that, Tracie keeps making all sorts of mistakes because of Elton. But I treat her like the same and never take her behavior to heart. That's why Tracie begins acting out of hand, thinking that I will always love her. The tenth chance is used up when Tracie brings Elton to our marital home on our wedding day. When her best friend, Erica Frey, accidentally stumbles upon them during their deed, Tracie doesn't give a damn at all. "Elton is my first love. What's wrong with us using this bedroom to get closure? Besides, Jonas loves me so much. Even if he sees me cheating on him, he'll forgive me." I chuckle softly as I watch everything unfold from a corner. Tracie has used up her tenth chance. Now, I no longer owe her anything.

When my wife brought her lover home for the fifth time, I decided enough was enough. I said nothing, not a word of complaint or protest. Instead, I superglued the windows shut and locked the bedroom door from the outside. From the bedroom came the muffled sounds of her little escapade, breathless and feverish, carrying through the walls like a shameful melody no one asked to hear. Calmly, I sat in the living room, picked up the phone, and called my mother-in-law. "Jessie," I said, putting on my best tone of urgency, "it's bad—real bad! Your daughter's locked herself in the bedroom and says she's gonna end it all!"

Ginny White, tall and curvy, was a graduate from a famous university. She wore a long white dress. I'd fallen for her since I saw her for the first time, but she didn't pay any attention to me. I never expected that just half a day later, Ginny would be on her knees begging me to do such a thing to her, just to get a bite to eat.

Misty Lawrence has an ex-boyfriend whom she can't forget—Zach Sterling. Carter Flanagan has always hoped that he would one day replace Zach's place in Misty's heart. In the eighth year of his and Misty's marriage, he accidentally breaks a bowl that Zach randomly bought. Misty screeches, "Get the hell out of here! I don't want to see you anymore!" That's when Carter realizes he'll never win when it comes to Zach, especially since the latter is dead. This time, he prepares a divorce agreement and leaves after signing it. It's Misty's turn to panic…

When I'm about to apply for medical insurance for my son, Connor Sawyer, who's about to start his first year in kindergarten, I'm told that I'm not his biological father at all. "Are you sure this is your son? The system shows that his father is an entirely different person." I don't respond at all. Instead, I secretly take a photo of the unfamiliar-looking address before tracking it down. It turns out that it's actually a residential area right by my own. The moment my wife, Giselle Lambert, sees me, she freezes momentarily. At the same time, she blocks the door subconsciously with her hand. "In the end, you still found out about the truth. But there's no use kicking up a fuss, you know. I never mistreated you in any way over the past three years, after all." When I notice the familiar figure standing behind Giselle, I feel my limbs going cold. That person is actually my younger brother, Vincent Sawyer, who has just graduated from college. Vincent hands Giselle a glass of water before smiling at me apologetically. "Don't blame me, Hayden. The doctor says that I'm severely depressed, so I can't handle hearing a child's cries at all. I'm really thankful to you for raising Connor on my behalf in the past few years." At that moment, Connor, who's supposed to be waiting for me in my car, rushes into the apartment. He runs into Vincent's arms happily before turning to look at me. "Don't cry, Uncle Hayden. Daddy says you're a good person, so he's asked you for help. Mommy tells me that if I call you 'daddy' in your home, I'll get to visit my real daddy during the weekends."

At midnight, I accidentally stumble upon the boss' daughter, Julianne Carter, pleasuring herself in the dimly-lit adult store. Her eyes are blindfolded, and her legs are spread on a special chair, where they are propped up on the arms. At the moment, she's cruising through the waves of pleasure uncontrollably. But when the chair malfunctions, Julianne is unable to free herself from the restraints no matter how hard she tries. That's when she starts calling for help. "Please… Please help me…" But I crouch down instead, allowing my fingers to glide across her thighs, past her calves, and back to her inner thighs. "Don't move. This chair's mechanisms are very complex. I need to study them thoroughly and slowly." "P-Please… hurry up…" I watch as Julianne's expression shifts from embarrassment to yearning. She finally stops struggling against the restraints when she breaks down from all the overwhelming sensations. "Give it to me… Please give everything to me…" Just as I'm about to yield, I hear the sounds of the boss, George Carter, opening the door coming from the outside. So, I quickly wheel Julianne into a nearby storeroom. That's where I see hyper-realistic molds that look exactly like Julianne.