Cradle Of Filth Dani Filth

FILTH FILES This is not a love story. Filth Files is a raw excavation of the thoughts you’re too ashamed to admit you have when the lights go out. It is a curated collection of the intrusive, the "wrong," and the utterly depraved. Inside these files, there is no "holding back." We are diving headfirst into the kinks that live in the shadows: the cold authority of a professor’s desk, the suffocating heat of a forbidden family dynamic, the thrill of being outnumbered, and the sharp sting of BDSM that blurs the line between pleasure and pain. WARNING: CLASSIFIED CONTENT Filth Files is a compilation of high-heat, explicit erotic fiction intended for adults aged 18 and older. This collection contains themes that some may find challenging or offensive, including but not limited to: extreme age gaps, power exchange, non-traditional family dynamics (taboo), and group encounters. The stories within are works of fiction intended to explore dark fantasies and boundary-pushing desires. All characters depicted in sexual acts are consenting adults. Read with discretion. You have been warned.

The moms at the company post about me online, claiming the free daycare I provide for their kids is a "prison" and a vile tactic to force them to work overtime. What they don't know is that the daycare was set up with imported equipment and staffed by internationally trained professionals. It costs nearly eight thousand dollars a month per child to operate. The internet curses me out, calling me a show-off and disgusting capitalist. So I grit my teeth and send out a company-wide announcement. "To support everyone's desire to handle their own childcare, the company has decided to close the free daycare program. Effective immediately, it will be replaced with a childcare benefit. Eligible mothers will receive 200 dollars a month." As soon as the notice goes out, the moms panic. They crowd outside my office, begging me not to shut it down.

The tale of a widow's harrowing journey through grief and peril into the cold remnants of a dead world. Damon Sharpe had in part found victory, he believed, in his battle to unearth a truth obscured by time. By autumn, he was dead, leaving to his wife Anne a house of unfulfilled wishes, remnants, and the key to the enigma of his obsession, the Mourner’s Cradle. A journey through grief and peril delivers Anne Sharpe from her home in St. Charles to the faraway skeletons of a long-dead civilization where she will find the desperate answers she seeks…or die trying. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Sa gitna ng kalungkutan at pagsubok, isang sanggol ang nagbigay ng liwanag sa madilim na buhay ni Reinella. Matapos mawala ang kanyang sariling anak, sinisi siya ng kanyang biyenan at tila pinabayaan na rin ng kanyang asawa. Ngunit ang pagtanggap niya sa isang sanggol na iniwan ng kanyang ina ang nagbukas ng pinto sa isang bagong yugto ng kanyang buhay. Hindi niya inasahan na ang sanggol na ito ang mag-uugnay sa kanya kay Reed Montgomery, ang misteryosong presidente-direktor na ama ng bata. Sa pag-aalaga niya sa sanggol, natagpuan ni Reinella hindi lamang ang kanyang sariling lakas kundi pati na rin ang init ng isang posibleng pag-ibig. Ngunit puno ng lihim at hadlang ang kanilang daan. Magiging simula kaya ito ng isang masayang wakas, o isa na namang pagsubok para kay Reinella?

“Why me?” The petite girl tilted her head sideways to gaze at the concrete wall that suddenly looked quite interesting whilst steadying her erratic breath but within seconds her body roughly flew to the other side of the cave with a harsh thud knocking everything out of. Blood splashed from her mouth in immense amount. Her unsteady blurry gaze shifted at the intruder and what she saw made her heart tighten in terror. There and than she knew she was a goner.

Rae just wanted to lose her virginity and forget the name of the boy who ruined her first time. So when her wild best friend dares her to visit Club Obsidian - a secret invite-only pleasure club where older men pick submissive girls for one unforgettable night - Rae agrees. She expected nerves. She expected heat. She didn’t expect a hot and sexy tattooed stranger in his forties with a tongue piercing, three rings, and a voice that could melt bone. He didn’t ask for her name. He just whispered, “Dance for me, kitten.” And by morning, Rae was ruined - in the best way possible. But her world shatters when she walks into her mother’s house… and finds him standing in the living room. Because the man who owned her body last night? Is her stepfather’s brother. Her step-uncle. Now he’s living in the pool house, teasing her at dinner, flexing shirtless by the pool, and whispering filthy things when no one’s around. He says it was supposed to be one night. But the way he touches her? The way he stares at her like he’s starving? He doesn’t want to let go. And neither does she. Even if it means losing everything.

I’m in love with my boss. He doesn’t even know I exist. … Until today. My name is Rowan St. Clair. For five years, I’ve tried to pretend I’m not head over heels for a man I can never have: Vincent Akopov—gorgeous, ruthless, and completely out of my league. But one fateful errand changes everything. When I walk in on him thoroughly “occupied” with another woman, I expect embarrassment. Instead, I get a saucy wink that sets my body on fire. And the next day? A promotion I never asked for. "Congratulations, Ms. St. Clair. You're my new personal assistant." Suddenly, I'm thrust into Vincent's world—Park Avenue penthouses, private jets, and a boss whose meetings put the "DIC" in "dictation." He tests my limits. Filthy promises whispered in my ear in the middle of a boardroom, explicit Polaroids left in unexpected places, sneaky gropes in dark hallways… And I push back. Sexts send both ways, after all. Our game escalates with each passing day. There's just one problem: to inherit his father's empire, Vince needs a wife. So guess who gets to accompany him on every awkward get-to-know-you date? Me—sitting beside him, trying to ignore his hands wandering up my skirt while he interviews potential brides. I tell myself it's just physical. Just temporary. Just a fantasy that will end when reality comes knocking. And reality does indeed knock— In the form of two pink lines on a pregnancy test.

Hayley Davis has everything she could ever want in life- money, a loving father and an established law career. But there is one thing she wants that she knows she can never have- Jake Ryker, her father's best friend. Since the first day she met him, she has wanted him and she knows he wants her too. It is a filthy desire, one she has no business having but Hayley has never been one to take no for an answer and she will get Jake but at what cost?

They’re off-limits, forbidden, and that’s what makes them irresistible. She’s the goddaughter who’s been touching herself to his name since she was old enough to know what wanting meant, and now she’s come home to collect. She’s the neglected wife whose stepsons look at her like they want to devour her, maybe it’s time she let them. She’s the fiancée whose future husband sold her to his brother to cover his debts and she’s discovering her new owner knows exactly how to make her beg. Daddy’s best friends. Stepfathers. Bosses. Professors. Brothers-in-law. Stepbrothers. Father-in-laws. Best friends’ dads. Every man she was told to stay away from. This collection contains: age-gap, step-family, power exchange, revenge, MFM, FFM, obsession, and possession. You’ve been warned, but you’ll read it anyway.

They said it was just a phase. A crush. A mistake she’d forget by morning. But obsessions don’t fade. They grow. In Filthy Obsessions, lust doesn’t whisper, it grabs hair, rips buttons, and leaves bruises in its name. These stories are not sweet. They’re soaked in sin. A sex therapist who doesn’t use words to fix broken marriages. A judge who sentences two sisters to submission, then joins them. A father’s best friend who doesn’t just watch,he waits, dark and patient, until she begs for his cock. An art professor who sketches her body in secret... then ruins her innocence on the altar. These men aren’t heroes. They’re cravings in human form. And the women who fall for them? They never recover. If you’ve ever whispered “Daddy, begged for it, screamed through it, or touched yourself thinking, “What if…” Filthy Obsessions was written for you.