Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs

A/N: Heads up and apology—sometimes I go all out painting my heroines. I'm talking every curve, every shadow, every damn detail. Not because I'm some thirsty poet—no. It's so you can see exactly what you're dealing with.

Because half the game is knowing the battlefield. And if you're going to get lost in the wild, you better know which thorns are worth the bleed.

So yeah, when I linger on their bodies, it's not just decoration. It's the map. The warning. The promise.

Buckle up. But you can tell me if you do not want this.

****

Nurse Luna was the kind of beautiful that didn't belong in some dusty high school infirmary—it belonged on billboards and in late-night fantasies.

All Latina features that could halt traffic and rewrite laws, long dark hair pulled back in a way that made her look both deadly professional and casually seductive, like she knew exactly how much power she wielded just by standing there.

Do not blame me that I cannot get over her beauty, she was impossibly... impossibly beautiful!

The nurse's uniform was a masterclass in contradiction: fully appropriate but somehow stretched over curves that defied every law of physics and good taste.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Henderson," Luna said, her voice carrying just enough accent to make you remember it even if you wanted to forget. "I need to see Peter Carter. He's got some unfinished business in the infirmary."

Unfinished business. Right. The follow-up from Jack's assault—the kind of thing I'd shoved in the back of my mind because I was too busy rewriting the future to deal with old wounds from a dickless childhood bully.

The classroom went wild—boys suddenly remembering how to be teenagers for the first time in weeks. Jokes flew, whispers spiraled, and somewhere in the chaos, a voice muttered, "Lucky bastard." Another piped up, "Wish I could get punched too... if it means alone time with Nurse Luna and a follow up too."

"Careful, Peter!" Jake Morrison called out with the subtlety of a man who wanted to be me and resented the fact he wasn't. "You've got a hot, rich girlfriend—she might ruin Nurse Luna's career!"

Thank God Madison wasn't here. That comment would've detonated World War Three faster than you could blink... asshole and for the record I have not forgiven you so say less about my woman.

Harmless as his words might have sounded to many... to me they were insult especially since they targeted my woman from my old bully.

As I packed up, Lea's voice sliced through the noise like a knife: "Man whore."

'What! What the actual fuck is her problem? I went from trying to ask her out to apparently being the villain in her personal drama. Thanks a lot, ChatGPT, for suggesting she'd be interested much less a girlfriend material. Now I am really starting to consider her punishment.'

Through my earbuds, ARIA's voice dripped with amusement: "Classic 'enemies to lovers' behavior there. Hate now, secretly attracted, pride blocking confession."

Or maybe she's just bitter because someone's winning. Not everything's a trope, ARIA

"We'll see, Master. Psychological models suggest layers beneath the surface." Her and her analyses.

Mrs. Henderson waved me toward the door with the grace of a woman who's been here before. "Go handle your medical requirements, Mr. Carter. We'll finish market analysis when you return."

I slung my backpack over my shoulder, drowning out the lingering commentary about my "luck" with women. The irony? While they joked, I was quietly building a supernatural seduction empire that would make their wettest dreams look like nursery rhymes.

If only they knew what I was really planning.

Seconds later, I was trailing behind Nurse Luna in the hallway, playing the perfect shy, awkward kid who got tongue-tied around smoking-hot women.

Spoiler: That act was pure theater.

Because damn... I was soaking in the view—and more importantly, running mental spreadsheets on what the hell this meant. My eyes were mapping her sensitive spots.

This Latina goddess just made Isabella look like some kind of her little sister. And Isabella nearly fucked me up with desire. What will Luna do to my desires if I make her my woman not too many hours from now?

I really would love to have her! And I was going to do anything for that.

Luna moved like she knew every damn second, she had all the boys of the school wrapped around her finger but also like she wasn't some manipulative diva throwing her weight around. That nurse's uniform?

Sure, technically "school regs," but somehow it hugged every curve and line like it was custom-made to be illegal in at least three states.

The guys were right—she's a full-on showstopper. But here's the thing: I'm not drooling like some dweeb. I'm running the numbers.

Her dark hair caught the hallway light like it was begging for a slow-mo music video. Her skin? Golden. Smooth. The kind of glow that makes you wanna trace every inch with your fingertips—if you're into that kinda thing.

When she flicked a glance back to make sure I was still trailing, her smile was warm enough to melt steel, but not too soft—more like "don't fuck this up, kid."

This follow-up just turned from "oh great, another boring doctor visit" to "holy shit, maybe I'm about to score a new chapter in my empire."

Or, you know, maybe she just wanted to patch me up and kick me back to class.

Either way? Beats the hell outta sitting through another damn economics lecture.

I could see myself—fingers ghosting over the swell of her tits, full and heavy, pressing so hard against that uniform it was like the fabric was barely holding back a storm.

Every heartbeat pulsed beneath the cotton, begging for attention, daring me to trace the sharp line of cleavage with lips and teeth until she couldn't breathe without my permission.

I could feel the weight of her ass without my actual hands even landed on it—high, round, unrelenting, moving with a slow, deliberate sway that promised ruin and worship in equal measure. I pictured bending her over, the smooth skin under that skirt warm and waiting, the quiet sound she'd make when control slipped and she gave in.

When she glanced back, that smile wasn't warmth—it was a challenge. You want this? Prove it.

In that moment, I wasn't just looking—I was already there, hunting in the shadows of a dream I wasn't ready to wake from.

This follow-up just upgraded from routine check to something else entirely.

As we closed in on the infirmary, I wondered: when would Valentina Luna become another on my women in my empire—or just patch me up and send me back to the grind? But i wouldn't all that. I have to make her mine!

'Either way, this beats the hell out of the useless economics lecture. and ARIA was luckily quiet.'