Quick Smut Story

Mom has extreme mania. Dad was murdered when I was eight, and I went blind while trying to save Mom. I became her only family and weakness. Anyone who makes fun of me for being blind has their eyes gouged out; anyone who disrespects me is sliced and diced before being fed to the dogs. Later, Mom turns into a she-devil with a hundred-billion-dollar net worth. Everyone in Gristport fears her, but she treats me like a princess. The whole city knows not to offend Eleanor Heinrich's daughter. She scours the world for the best optometrists to treat my eyes. On the day I regain my vision, I hear about Mom finding her birth daughter. She says, "You'll soon have a sister who loves you very much, Sienna." I hear that my sister has been through a lot since childhood and is introverted. I prepare many gifts for her, even wanting to give her the pendant Dad gave me. Yet she instructs her people to take me to a deserted roof. "You're nothing but a faker who stole my place in life! I'm going to slice your tongue—let's see how you can continue lying to Mom when you can't speak!" She shatters the pendant, gouges my eyeballs out, slashes my tongue, and has several men torment me to death. Lastly, she includes my eyeballs as decorations in a bouquet and brings it to Mom. "This is a gift I've prepared for your birthday, Mom. Do you like it?"

After getting into an accident, I pretend to be an amnesiac to pull a prank on my husband and son. "Who are you guys?" I ask. A hint of delight flickers in my son's eyes. He pulls a woman waiting outside the hospital ward inside and says, "My parents and I came to visit you, ma'am." My husband watches all of this happen without saying a word. He doesn't correct our son.

I'm dressed in flip-flops and shorts when making an inspection of the five-star hotel my husband just acquired. When the front office manager spots me, she immediately calls for security with a disgusted look on her face. "The hotel's WiFi isn't meant for people like you to use. Hurry up and pay me 200 thousand dollars in Internet costs, then get lost!" I calmly tell her that I'm the owner of the hotel, but that only makes her sneer. "The owner of the hotel? Hey, old hag, you're putting on an act in front of the real deal! This hotel was a birthday gift from my husband to me. Aren't you fantasizing a bit too much?" Oh? Since when did Ian Lambert get another wife behind my back?

The new intern, Cynthia Joller, had posted about me online, claiming the company had made them use their leave for team building. No one wanted to fly all the way to an island to spend time with colleagues. However, what the internet did not know was that our company's team-building tradition involved booking a top-notch five-star resort every year: all-inclusive, family-friendly, with an extra three days of paid leave, and a $30,000 budget per person. The whole internet dubbed me a cold-blooded capitalist, so I decided to give in to their demands and issued a notice. [In response to employee feedback and to honor personal time, this year's team-building retreat has been canceled. Instead, a $500 allowance for personal travel will be provided.] The notice stirred up a commotion in the company. Long-time employees gathered at my office door, pleading for the return of the sunny Madiles retreat.

I'm reincarnated a week before the college entrance exam. Despite being the soon-to-be top scorer, I stab my eye with a syringe. In my past life, Marianne Quentin, my boyfriend Lance Russell's childhood friend, reported me for cheating off her during the final mock exam. The teacher compared our papers and found that my essay was identical to hers. He harshly criticized me and warned me not to repeat my mistake. However, Marianne reported me for copying her answers again during the math exam. Once again, my answers were found to be identical to hers. The teacher scolded me for being incorrigible and sent me home to reflect on my actions. I couldn't understand what had happened. Clearly, I'd never cheated, but my answers were nearly identical to Marianne's, whether in writing and language or in math. As the SAT exam loomed over me, I could only suppress my doubts as I stepped into the exam hall. I finished the writing paper and thought I was safe. However, Marianne stepped out and accused me of cheating again. I tried to defend myself, yet the answers on my paper were identical to hers. In the end, I was disqualified, kicked out of the exam hall, and banned from taking any exams in the next two years—just because I "cheated". I succumbed to despair and leaped from the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to one week before the SAT.

My sister and I are twins, but my mom never liked me. Once I secured admission to a prestigious university, my mom insisted that I work to finance my sister's college education. However, my sister decided to abandon her college studies during her second year, driven by the desire to marry a man a decade older than her. Things took a dark turn when her boyfriend was involved in a hit-and-run accident. My sister drained my medical treatment funds to keep him out of jail, even if it meant jeopardizing my own well-being. I didn't survive. I woke up again and had a second chance at life on the day when the admission results came out. My sister was crying and pleading, "Sister, can you let me go to college this time?" In this life, I won't give in to her demands.

I grabbed an extra work meal to entertain a client. My boyfriend's sister saw it and went ballistic, docking my entire $500K commission. She pointed at my nose and screamed, "Are you taking me for a fool? You're just hiding behind 'client entertainment' to rip off the company! It's shameful, damaging the company's image! All of your commission for this month will be deducted as a warning to others." The client looked at me, wide-eyed in shock. I shrugged. "Do what makes you happy. Just don't regret it later." From then on, I started slacking off, and she freaked out.

My best friend asked me to conduct a blood test on her before she got married to the richest man in the city. That was how I found out that she had AIDS. Due to patient confidentiality and her claim that her fiance would not mind, I did not tell him about her diagnosis. Later on, he contracted AIDS as well. When this happened, my best friend went online and pointed the finger at me. “Maya Sullivan intentionally kept the results of my blood test a secret. That’s why my husband got AIDS. It’s all her fault!” Even my boyfriend added fuel to the fire. “This isn’t the first time Maya has set Pearl up. She only got AIDS because Maya used an infected needle to take her blood sample!” No matter how much I insisted otherwise, everyone kept hounding me about it. To avoid the fallout, I was forced to move myself and my parents to another city to start fresh. However, in a fit of rage, Pearl’s husband crashed into our car and killed all of us. He was later sentenced to death, so Pearl inherited all of his assets. She then lived in luxury with my boyfriend. When I opened my eyes again, I discovered that I had gone back in time. It was the day that Pearl had undergone her health checkup.

One day, I received a call from the property management. They politely advised me that even if it was a wedding, there was no need to make such a ruckus all night long, disturbing the neighbors. They said they were caught in the middle, and it was hard for them to deal with it. I replied, "You must be mistaken. I don't even have a boyfriend, so how could I be getting married?" Since I refused to admit it, the property management sent me a video from the community's security cameras. In the video, the hallway was decorated with lights and flowers, and guests were coming and going. A large group of people were escorting the bride into the new home. And the groom was none other than my ex-boyfriend, who I had broken up with two and a half years ago!

My sister aims her camera at my face as she livestreams. She forces me to get on my knees before her as everyone in her class watches. Then, she tells me to lick her shoe clean. My parents know about her behavior but don't care how it affects me. Their indulgence only makes my sister's behavior worse. This is precisely what I want, though. If one wants to ruin someone, the first step is to turn her into a psycho!