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Ashton
"Get out of here Ashton. I will never accept you, I don't have a gay son!" My dad yelled, I almost struggled to pick up my discarded clothes that my dad throw at me. My mom could do nothing but look at the tragedy that befell me. I prevent my tears from dripping but the pain on my chest is so heavy that I can't help but cry. My dad just kicked me out and I don't know where should I go now. I'm only seventeen and I just finished junior high so I definitely can't get a job to support my self.
"Dad please," I beg but he just kept throwing away my clothes, I gather all the things my dad throw and put it in my bag.
"Leave Ashton, you can only come back here if you are no longer gay." Daddy shouted at me and slammed the door shut, I knocked a few times on the door but it seems like they're deaf, they won't open it. I sit on the stairs with my hands on my face, feeling betrayed by my parents and defeated. How could they do this to me? How did they manage to get their child kicked out of the house? Maybe they don't care about me anymore.
I took out my cellphone and called Seb, I smiled bitterly as I wait for Seb to pick up the phone. Seb is the reason why my parents kicked me out because they saw me worshipping Seb's body like he's some kind of greek god.
After a while, Seb answered the call.
"Aahhh fuck." I frown when I hear the voice on the other line. That voice did not belong to Seb, it was the voice of a woman who seemed to be in the middle of intense intercourse. All I could hear was a girl moaning on the other line.
"What the fuck, Seb!" I shouted on the other line even though I knew he would not hear me. Just my luck, where am I suppose to go now? I can't rely on Seb anymore to shelter me, because obviously, he is having fun with a woman which I think he also met on alter.
"Shit!" I cursed while gritting my teeth out of frustrations. I heaved a sigh as I was trying to think for possible solutions to this mess that I'm in. Fuck them all! Fuck Seb and fuck my parents for not accepting me.
A moment of silence enveloped the surroundings when suddenly my phone beep, someone messages me on twitter. And as if on cue, a brilliant idea comes to mind. I thought that I would just post on my twitter account for someone to let me sleep in their house for a night and they can have me in return. But what about the next few days? I have some savings somehow but if I rent a dorm or an apartment I may not be able to eat anymore. I'm scared, I don't want to leave this house, I've been living here my entire life.
I was just sitting on the stairs silently crying when the door opened again and my mom shows up. She hugged me and handed me some money.
"Leave Ash, your dad is really angry right now, I'm afraid he will do something bad to you if he finds out that you're still here." Mom said while crying and gently pushed me, I hate the feeling of my mother pushing me out from the house but I don't have a choice, my sexuality can't be fixed because in the first place there's nothing wrong with me, this is who I am.
I took a glanced at our house for the last time, I guess this will be the last time I would see this house where I spent most of my happy memories, because no matter what I do I know I will never change. My family has rejected me. I'm on my own now. It's not my fault if I was like this, is it? We did not choose it.
Looks like I don't have a choice but to ask for help on my alter account. I need shelter even just for tonight. I took out my cellphone and immediately opened the twitter app and composed a tweet.
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@ashtonxxx
'Hey! Who's up now? I just need a place to stay tonight. Near Harbor, you can do whatever you want to me. DM me if you're game. '
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Zie
As I expected, a bunch of horny guys offers me an indecent proposal. But I declined all their proposals because my body is too tired to even walk. A model backed out before the show started and I was asked if I can ramp another underwear, which I gladly accept. I love modeling underwear because it feels so liberating seeing the hungry and lustful stare the audience is giving me as if they're going to pass out if I showed them more skin. They even shout to take off the skimpy brief I'm wearing earlier.
Ever since I was a child I dreamed of being a porn star, I don't know but it feels like a calling for me. But of course, because I was in a country where prostitution was illegal, I did not pursue this kind of job but I have an alter account on twitter where I post pictures of me wearing only a boxer briefs and sometimes completely naked with my face covered with a sticker to hide my identity. I even dared to post a video of myself jacking off and everyone loves it, they even begged me to post more jack off videos.
"Are you going home Zie?" Jowem asked as I was about to enter my car, he bites his lips as if seducing me but I just smirk at him. He's sexy and hot but not my type. He's too manly for my liking, tho I know that he's a bottom. He offered his body to me too many times I lost count, I give in eventually but it was just a blow job and nothing more, now he keeps on bugging me to fuck him which I always declined.
"Ah, yes the show got me so tired," I said in monotone to let him know that I'm not in the mode to talk to him.
"Um, someone's picking you up? Do you want to ride with me?" He suggested but I just smiled at him and slowly move my head rejecting his offer. Is he blind? My car is just right here beside me.
"Thank you for your generous offer Jowem, but I bring my car," I answered and open the door of my car. I did not wait for his response and immediately get inside the car where Stuart--my driver, is waiting for me. Well, Stuart is not my driver, he's a special agent from PMA and I hired him as the head of my security. Aside from modeling underwear, I am also the CEO of Mendez Publishing Inc.
"To the penthouse, Stuart." I said as soon as I get in the car, he just nodded and immediately started the car engine.
We were already in the middle of the trip when the traffic was getting congested, so I immediately told Stuart to look for an alternative route so we could get to the penthouse more easily. Moments later the car turned and I spot a sign beside the road with the word 'One Way' written on it. I leaned my head against the car's headboard and closed my eyes to have a nap.
I suddenly woke up when I felt a series of vibrations from my pocket. I immediately pulled my cellphone out of my pocket and a lot of emails popped up in the notification tab. I opened the emails one by one, I skipped the less important ones and focused on the important mails.
It took me almost an hour before I finished checking the mails. I was about to return my cellphone in my pocket when I remembered my alter account on twitter. I hurriedly opened the twitter tab and logged into my account.
As usual, the first tweet that I came across was all about a thread of topless photos and some homemade porn videos. I read the first tweet that was shown on the screen of my cellphone, it was a tweet of an alter account with a handle @ashtonxxx.
@ashtonxxx
'Hey! Who's up now? I just need a place to stay tonight. Near Harbor, you can do whatever you want to me. DM me if you're game. '
Attached to that tweet was a photo of a naked man, with a large emoticon glued to his face so that no one can recognize him. This man on the photo is exactly my type, he has a twink body. He has a good body shape and his skin is like the skin of a months-old baby, smooth and clean.
If I hadn't been tired now I would have sent a direct message to @ashtonxxx, but because I wanted to rest I decided not to drop a message in the account. I just went to Ashton's account first, I think this is his name, and I pressed the follow button and turned on the notification to notify me in his next tweets. Of course, I will not miss him, maybe next time I will invite him because based on his tweets 3 hours ago there are already many public messages here accepting his invitation.
It took me a few minutes to scroll around my alter account until my hands get numb so I turned off my cellphone and put it back in my pocket.
I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella. Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark. But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved. Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies. When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel. While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest. The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella. He ordered my father to punish me. I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth. That night, the love in my heart finally died. On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven. Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney. By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return.
After a one-night stand with a stranger, Roselyn woke up to find only a bank card without a PIN number. Still in a daze, she was detained on charges of theft. Just as the handcuffs were about to close, the mysterious man reappeared, holding her pregnancy report. "You're pregnant with my child," he said coldly. Shocked, Roselyn was whisked away in a helicopter to the presidential palace, where she learned the truth: the man from that night was none other than the country's most powerful and influential leader!
My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune. For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me." He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster. He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous. The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built.
I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.
Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.
Katherine endured mistreatment for three years as Julian's wife, sacrificing everything for love. But when his sister drugged her and sent her to a client's bed, Katherine finally snapped. She left behind divorce papers, walking away from the toxic marriage. Years later, Katherine returned as a radiant star with the world at her feet. When Julian saw her again, he couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance between her new love and himself. He had been nothing but a stand-in for someone else. Desperate to make sense of the past, Julian pressed Katherine, asking, "Did I mean nothing to you?"
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