Dirty Laundry Novels & Stories

The one I couldn't stop thinking about. In the locker room, I stood at the sink throwing cold water over my face, trying to wash away the frustration. My muscles were sore, my mind still replaying that moment when I'd locked eyes on her in my team colors, dressed to kill. Tight top hugging her curves, short skirt showing off those legs. Fuck. My cock twitched again just thinking about it. "Stop it Enzo." I growled as I splashed more water onto my face. I was trying to wash away the dirty thoughts filling my head.

"Do you even recognize the brand of this dress? It's unlikely you can clean it adequately! Hand-washing simply won't suffice." Feeling embarrassed by the situation, the waitress proposed, "I'm terribly sorry. May I cover the dry cleaning costs for you?" "Dry cleaning costs? Are you truly unaware or simply feigning ignorance?" Luna shot back, her tone dripping with disdain. Suddenly, she lunged forward and delivered a sharp jab to the waitress's head. "This dress is made from high-quality fabric. Whether it's hand-washed or dry-cleaned, these stains are nearly impossible to remove. You were deliberately attempting to ruin it, weren't you?"

Four Months Since the Rebel Overthrow. Irritated, I stare down upon my hands, silently cursing the stain so deeply embedded into the cotton, no amount of scrubbing will remove it. Blowing a stray curl from my face, I let the yellow bar of soap glide from my grip and into the sudsy water. This client expects his white shirt to be spotless by tomorrow, and the store is only minutes away from closing. I eye the few lone coins at the bottom of my glass tip jar, knowing this is going to be another hard week.

The rest of us took her lead and seated ourselves around the basement, Jonie and Mitch together on the couch with the rest of us finding chairs. “I’m not exactly sure. Whatever it was had to do with their personal dirt.” “Personal dirt?” “When the Dirt blows in, it brings with it everybody’s personal dirt.” “What do you mean?” “Those things in our lives that we’d like to stay buried, forgotten, in other words, our personal dirt. Here’s mine.” She went over to the computer and jiggled the mouse, dismissing the screensaver. Underneath the screensaver was the F******k page of a man in his late forties.

Complaints, insults, excuses, frustration. “That asshole plays dirty.” “The ref was bought.” “We shouldn’t have lost like that.” I clench my jaw as I read, close the chat without thinking too much because I don’t want to stay there, don’t want to keep going over the same thing, don’t want to think about the game or him, so I set my phone aside and take a deep breath, trying to clear my head, even if it’s just for a while. Tonight I’m only going to do one thing, drink enough to not feel anything and leave early before it all becomes unbearable, no drama, no complications, not giving him more space than he already takes.

The Green Light Club never had less than a half-dozen heavy-duty washers and dryers running at any given time and the baby elephant-sized motors made the laundry room sweltering, even in the winter months. Taking a swig from a water bottle, Ava thanked the moon for small favors that she had the fortune to be on laundry duty today. She could’ve been on toy duty again, and when you clean a sex club for a living, any night you don’t have to wash anything by hand is a blessing.

Rowen added. “So you send her dirty shirts?” Norm questioned. “No. They’re clean. They just smell like me. Even laundered clothes retain your scent. Especially since we use unscented, and no dye laundry detergent here.” Rowen stated with a chuckle. “Oh thank Goddess. Nothing worse than sweat crusty shirts.” Norm stated with a sniff. “I would never do that to my sweet girl.” “Thank you for sharing your story with us Chastity. I hate to say this though, I need to get to bed. I have to be up early for patrol.” Marcus said as he stood up.

I held it out a mile away from me as it dripped on my floor. “Cause … we’re rich assholes that can just get online and have a new one delivered in a few hours,” Corey said, and I nodded. Pretty much. “God you idiots are so wasteful,” she scoffed. “Bailey says that to me all the time! I just don’t want the hassle, it’s easier,” Trey said. I nodded at my friend and still put the soiled clothes and pad in the trash bag. Fuck all that, I’ll get new. Why would I put shit in my washing machine? Do people do that??

I would prefer drowning in the sea or the well or even under legos but not this! "Clara! Clara!! Where the heck are you?" My best friend, Jace opened the door to the laundry room, searching for me frantically. I have been trying to sort the pairs of socks which made me go deep in the pile of laundry. Yes, I am dirty and smelly now. I hate laundering. I took a deep breath and pushed myself out of the pile, "What is it? I'm trying to survive laundry games here."

I add a bit more soap to my hands and wash my face, trying to remove every grain of sand, letting all that terror wash down the drain, to the sewer where Kalil belongs. Even with my face a bit cleaner, I still feel so dirty, and with this filthy dress. I pull it over my head, dampen the bloodstain, and add some soap to try to remove the excess. I let more tears roll as I scrub the dirty fabric, hoping that the red stain will diminish somewhat. I'm relieved to remove much of the blood, I put on the tunic even though it's still wet, and return to sit facing Laís, who now seems quite excited about something on her phone.