After Switching Bodies, the Mad Overbearing CEO Takes Over the Entertainment Industry - Chapter 36 - : Living on Luck

[WARNING: MATURE CONTENT] The Emperor’s runaway brides have formed a rebel group of scantily clad beauties trained in honey trap techniques. Delphi Chastain is their leader, a fiery beauty with a big axe to grind and a dream of freedom she’s willing to die for.EXTRACT: “Kiss me baby?” she said in her best babydoll voice.He didn’t have to be asked twice. Niko pinned her arms above her head and kissed her roughly with all of the force of the desire he was feeling.Three, two, one! she counted in her head. She bit his lip at the same time as she brought her knee up as hard as she could and kneed the man in the groin.“Ooaah,” he moaned. He fell sideways off her, clutching his balls.She leapt to her feet and sprinted off, picking up her belongings on the way past.“Thanks for saving me baby,” she called cheerily at him as she ran away. “Sorry about the crown jewels, but I’m not going back to the palace, so I don’t need them.”Post-WW3 there’s just the Island, and it’s ruled by the Emperor. It’s back to the good old days of polygamy and keeping women covered and chaperoned. The Emperor has raised Delphi and seven other gorgeous girls in the palace to join his harem, training and surgically enhancing them, like treats in a fantasy smorgasbord. But the girls escape and sail off the Island to the uninhabited Mainland, now overrun by mutant tubiàn beasts created as weapons during the War. Hot on their tails are the Emperor’s Honour Guard.Delphi leads the Girls over, under (^_-), and through the enemy, as they battle and tame beasts and men in their struggle to build an army to take down the Empire.Can the girls survive on their own on the Mainland and build a rebel army? Are there any trustworthy men, or are they all the same? Can the Guards resist the charms of the warrior girls? Do they want to?#enemiestolovers #sexywarrior #r18 #smut #post-apocalypse #war #action #fastpaced #scifi #betrayal #revenge #beast taming #battleofthesexes

In her previous life, she died of hatred in a gray robe.

The former cannon fodder was reborn, opened the inheritance of the mysterious jade pendant, washed out the top meridians, and rose to the top in red.

Those who persecuted her, hindered her, calculated her, died! !

There is a jade pendant in hand, and countless treasures are detected, all of which are welcome. She frowned and looked at the man in front of her, and said lightly, “I’m sorry, I made a mistake, I took it wrong, and you can go.”

God knows when this man was taken over by her and hurriedly threw it away. “Don’t make trouble, madam, go home, you are the oldest in the family.”

- Description from novelbuddy

Dropped

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.