Book Chat Rooms Novels & Stories

"Hey guys," I purr, feeling warm and relaxed. "Thanks for joining me tonight. I'm feeling so excited about sharing some time with you. Please drop me a note in the chat to let me know a bit about you. Remember that only I can see it. And if you want to leave a tip, the button's in the chat feature. Let me know if you have questions." Several responses start rolling up. "I can't wait to see your pussy." "I want to go down on u so bad."

The war room in Zurich is usually a quiet place. Just the hum of servers and the click of mechanical keyboards. Right now, it sounds like a crisis center. Or a rave. Monitors are flashing with incoming reports from every time zone. The global map is a solid, pulsing web of gold light, so dense you can’t see the continents anymore. "Report from London," Marcus shouts over the din, reading from a tablet. "Users are claiming they can feel their neighbors. Literally. A guy in an apartment complex says he felt the woman next door climax while he was making toast."

Shadow threw a side glance at Ben through the rear view mirror. “With that Siren voice of hers, it doesn’t really matter whether you’re on speaker or Bluetooth” Ben smirked “Can I make a booking for a private room for 7am?” “Anything for you Charming?” Skype laughed evilly before adding “as long as you pay with my charm unlimited’s credit card” “Cough… cough… I am hanging up” “Why is unlimited’s face black as coal?” “Beep…beep…beep”

There were at least ten messages that tagged her. Her first reaction to this was that something big had happened to the hotel. That thought woke her up at once and she went to the beginning of the new messages. It seemed that one of the janitors started everything. "Have any of you watched last night's episode of "The Mediators Room"?" Soon, a few other janitors said, "I did!" "Me too!" Larissa frowned. She created this group chat for the sake of texting announcements. Sometimes, people would chat here, but they were usually work-related. It was the first time that discussions about a TV show had ever occurred.

That's what the reply message said. My lips smiled, then typed a reply message for him. "Thank you, Levin. I love you." Exiting my chat room with Levin, I switched to my chat room with Alpha Rexton. Now there are two messages and I only got the second message when I was typing a reply to Levin. "If that's the case, I can see you guys off. We'll go together. How about that? Do you agree?" The next message said something like this: "Why didn't I see you coming out of the cafe? Haven't you come home yet? I was waiting near the cafe as usual."

His voice was annoying, anyway. Before we leave, I pick up Chuck’s cell phone and open up a tab in the Dark Web’s app for message boards. Right on top of the list is a message board for the Marching Tides, which requires a password to access it but—of course—Chuck saved the password in his keychain. Idiot.

Zara lay on her couch, still fuming. She had replayed the argument in her head a dozen times already, and every time she pictured his smug grin, her chest tightened. She needed an outlet. Something. Her phone buzzed. At first, she thought it was just a random notification, but then she saw it... Building Residents Group Chat: “14B vs. 12A Showdown” Someone had changed the chat title. Zara’s jaw dropped. Scrolling up, she saw the thread.

That was probably the most difficult thing I had to do. I wasn’t sure what to use for either. It took me nearly an hour to come up with something. In the end, I decided to use BrooklynB as my user name and WolfSkye as my password. Once I was in, I found many different chatrooms. There had to be well over a hundred, if not a couple hundred. There really was so much I didn’t know about the world I lived in. I just hoped that others that have been in a similar situation as me, knew about this site. Otherwise, it was going to be nearly impossible to find others to help.

“Checking his pattern. This user bounced from Zurich to Korea to Quebec in twenty-three seconds. That’s Fox behavior.” Dominique stared at the message. I’ve missed the way you twitch. Her lips parted, dry. “I need to respond.” “No,” Damien said quickly. “Not yet. He’s baiting you.” She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. But let me look around.” She entered one of the rooms—digital spaces designed like dungeon galleries. Scripts ran simulated interactions: voice-acted scenarios, animated reenactments, even logs of real encounters reposted anonymously. One room had no title. Just a number: Room 13.

I also told my mom to lock the door for me. I quickly searched for our messages with Meli. When I found them, I typed right away. To Melilabs: Hey, Melilabs. Are you still awake? It’s still early. I’m setting up a chat group; is that okay? Melilabs: Yes, biatch? It’s still early. Sure, that’s fine. I can contact you easily. Just us girls, okay? Don’t add any guys; they’re not as entertaining as us. ‘Sure thing, hahaha. Exclusively for girls only.’