A Pervert Novels & Stories

Three years ago, Samantha Jade and her parents were trapped in a raging fire. She watched with her own eyes as the flames devoured her mother and father. At the critical moment, it was Connor Parker who charged in and saved her. She fell hopelessly in love with him. For the following three years, she drowned in the tenderness he wove so carefully around her. But later, Samantha discovered the truth: that fire three years ago—Connor had set it. He had approached her on purpose, loved her on purpose, all to avenge his first love. Every bit of love, every gentle word, every beautiful moment between them—none of it was real. It had all been a lie. Since he hated her that much, Samantha decided to play along. Amid Connor's revenge, she faked her death. But when he saw the charred body—believing it was hers—Connor lost his mind.

Damian and I have been together for five years. He's the heir to the Hartwell family, a family of old money, but he's incredibly devoted to me. He planned a perfect trip to Iceland to see the Northern Lights, intending to propose. He held me close and whispered, "They say couples who see the aurora together will be together forever. Nora, you and me -- never apart." As the brilliant lights danced across the sky, I truly believed our love would last an eternity. Then I saw him snap a photo and send it to Sophia with the message: "Wish you were here. Sending you some aurora magic." I froze. Sophie was Damian's childhood friend. The kind of woman who always draped herself all over him, and sent him provocative selfies in the middle of the night. The next second, Sophia called on video. "Damian! I'm so dizzy... When are you coming back to keep me company?" It was then I realized Damian had brought Sophia along on our proposal trip and was staying at the same hotel as us. I turned around and made a phone call without hesitation. "Mr. Parker, the three-year assignment to Germany you mentioned—I accept. Yes, the sooner the better." But why has this Billionaire been searching for me all over the world for three years after I left?

Introduction A year ago, I had my eyes on the winning prize in the arena - a rare red gemstone, and wanted to win it back as the mating ring with my Alpha mate Damien. Just as I was about to claim victory and take the prize, Damien's secretary Celia stepped forward to challenge me. Damien laughed helplessly. "Young girls love these shiny things. As the Luna of our pack, you should be generous and let her have them, okay?" I refused outright and defeated her. That day, Celia ran off the platform crying. I proudly showed Damien my prize. He kissed my forehead helplessly. "My stubborn little wildcat." After our mating ceremony, he claimed me night after night for a whole year, in every way imaginable, never giving me a moment's rest. But one year later, I received an invitation to a private combat arena. Videos and photos of me beneath Damien, my eyes hazy with desire, were brazenly displayed as the victor's prize. Damien had his arm around Celia's waist. "Don't you love fighting? There are over a hundred people here. I'll have them challenge you one by one. Whoever wins gets a sex tape of you and me. A whole year's worth."

"Girl, you have to help me satisfy my husband. I honestly can't take it anymore." Recently, my wife couldn't handle my intensity anymore and went crying to her best friend for help. Wanting to ease the tension between us, her bestie decided to come to our house alone. She showed up in a sexy short dress that barely contained her curves. "So I hear you're pretty wild, huh? Let me see what all the fuss is about."

Dad was terrified of being laughed at. Every holiday, he only ever said one thing. “Do not embarrass me.” The relatives were sitting around chatting when I accidentally knocked over a fruit platter on the table. He grabbed me right there and slapped me across the face. At dinner, I reached for a second helping of pot roast, and he kicked my chair out from under me. Later, when it was time to hand out gift cards, Uncle Ray miscounted and came up one short. Without a word, Dad shoved me out into the hallway in nothing but a thin shirt. The cold cut straight through me. I pounded on the door while I cried and apologized. He did not make a sound. He turned to Uncle Ray with an apologetic smile and said, “Sorry about that. I guess I have not taught this kid any manners.” He did not know that his lessons had already conditioned me to flinch at the phrase “laughed at.” Every time I heard it, I froze and felt myself shut down. When I heard him say it again through the closed door, I turned in silence and walked toward the dark bridge at the edge of the neighborhood. I did not know what I planned to do. I only knew I wanted the noise in my head to stop. I reached the railing and stared at the water below. One thought crossed my mind. “Dad, this time, no one will ever laugh at you because of me again.”

My daughter, Bessie Garcia, had very little self-discipline. The only reason she studied at all was that I constantly pushed her. Three months before the SATs, I could not resist sending a question to myself ten years into the future. “Did Bessie get into an Ivy League school? What kind of job does she have now? Please tell me the last three years of hard work were worth it! How far have Meera and I gotten on our trip around the world? Did we have a second child?” A hopeful smile spread across my face. Then, I saw the man on the other side of the screen. His skin was sallow. He was so thin that he was almost unrecognizable. “An Ivy League school? After graduation, she publicly accused you of controlling and emotionally abusing her for more than ten years. The entire internet branded you a sick, controlling father. Meera divorced you and went on to have a child with her first love. As for you… years of staying up late, putting your life on hold, and constantly supervising Bessie’s studies left you with terminal pancreatic cancer. Your daughter and ex-wife have cut you out of their lives completely. You have only one month left to live.” I was stunned. Just then, Bessie’s voice sounded from her room as she talked to someone online. “My dad? He’s a pathetic control freak. His wife doesn’t love him, so he takes it out on me by trying to control my life. The more he forces me to study, the worse I’ll bomb the exams! Watching him lose his mind in rage is the only satisfaction I get. Once the SATs are over, I’m moving out and cutting him out of my life for good!” Tears splashed against the back of my hand. A moment later, I withdrew her from every SATs prep course and sent her a text. [You don’t have to attend those tutoring classes anymore. From now on, I won’t ask anything of you. It’s your life, so you should get to decide how to live it.]

At my daughter’s graduation party, the laptop I gave her turned out to be the same model as the one my ex-wife's boyfriend gave her. She slammed the computer I bought violently onto the ground, smashing it to pieces. "You obviously knew Chad was going to give me this, yet you bought the same one. You just want to make Chad look bad!" My daughter screamed hysterically at me, while my ex-wife flashed a malicious smile. Half a month later, my daughter secretly drugged me during dinner. When I woke up, I found myself smuggled across the border, trapped inside a cold iron cage. On stage, the auctioneer announced, "Today, we're auctioning off every single organ from this man's body. Highest bidder wins!" Meanwhile, my daughter sat down below the stage, her gaze filled with venomous hatred. "Connor, since you love buying identical things just to steal everyone else's spotlight, today, we'll let you steal the spotlight to your heart's content! "Let's see which of your organs you actually have the power to save on your poor worker's salary!" As my heart turned to stone, I silently awakened the system that I had neglected for many years. [Ding—Host has successfully activated the Damage Transfer System.]

In our house, owning a single unnecessary item is considered shameful. My room is bare, like a model home. It doesn't even have an extra chair. There are always only three sets of clothes in my closet. If I want a new pair of pants, I have to cut up the old pair myself before I can keep the new one. Every time I bring something new home, I have to get rid of something old. That includes my favorite pair of shorts with the little robot prints. Dad calls this "decluttering". He says it prevents the soul from becoming weighed down by objects, keeping it pure and light. Every time I grow a little taller, Mom's frown gets a little deeper. "Eddie, you're taking up too much space," she says. "The house feels crowded because of you." From then on, I do everything I can to make myself smaller. Even when I sleep, I curl myself into the tightest ball I can manage. I just want to take up a little less space. Then one day, a truck driver stops in front of me. He smiles and tells me his truck has a huge cargo compartment, big enough to hold all the things nobody wants anymore. I quietly climb inside. "Mom, Dad… I won't take up any space now. You'll finally be happy, won't you?"

Six years after my younger brother and my fiancée passed away, I picked out a grave for myself. Before my final visit to their graves, my mother suddenly said, “Miles, you don’t have to go this year. The truth is that they never died.” I was startled for a moment before the two of them walked right out of my brother’s room. My brother, Sean, put on a teasing smile as he draped an arm around the woman beside him. “I won the bet! I told you my brother would never figure it out. “Who’s going to be on top tonight, huh, Vera?” My so-called late fiancée, who used to cry whenever she saw me suffer even the slightest grievance, looked at me with open disdain. “He’s just too stupid. We’ve been living next door this entire time, yet he never noticed.” It was only then that I realized my mother forbad me from entering Sean's room, not because it would make her grieve her son again, but because it was directly connected to the house next door. I was truly too foolish. Right up until a month before my death, I was still thinking about visiting their graves.

My whole family could hear my thoughts. Twenty years after I was abducted, I finally reunited with my family. However, they used the thoughts they could hear to find out my bank account's passwords and PIN codes, all so that they could steal my savings. When they knew I was being stalked by a pervert, they offered me up on a silver platter just for the money he provided. I ended up getting locked up by the pervert and tormented to my death. When I opened my eyes once more, I found myself back to the day when it all began. I was going rabid deep down. 'Did Mom not use all of my money to support Mr. Warner next door?' 'Should I tell Mom and Dad that Alex is actually gambling instead of going to work?' 'I think Dad is attracted to Alex's girlfriend. What do I do?' This time, I want to see them turn against each other and reap the consequences of their own actions.