Dirty Laundry Mga Nobela at Kwento

“What happened?” I pursed my lips. “The washing machine is possessed. I think it’s one of those demons our parents let out.” Jude folded his tatted arms over his chest and fixed me with a knowing stare. “Nice try, but demons can’t possess inanimate objects. What did you do?” “Alright fine,” I threw my hands up. “I enchanted the damn thing. It worked well enough in class. Blame Kimberly! She’s the one with seven piles of dirty laundry. I mean, who the fuck owns that many clothes?”

I ran the tap and squirted some soap onto the fabric, watching as the water turned pink. "Stupid top," I grumbled, scrubbing at the stain. "Stupid Madison and her stupid drink." The silk felt delicate under my fingers, already showing signs of damage from my rough handling. After a few minutes, I gave up and hung it over the shower rod to dry. Maybe the dry cleaner could salvage it. "Another casualty of the Carter drama," I muttered, padding barefoot to my bedroom.

Neither of them moved to clean up. Not yet.

I felt so flushed and embarrassed I lost my appetite immediately. "Thanks for the meal. I'll do the dishes later" I said as I hurriedly cleared my plate and dashed upstairs. I could feel him watch my every move and it made me so nervous, I almost ran. I got to my room and decided to quickly wash off my face first, like washing my face would mean washing off the embarrassment. I got to the bathroom and tried to turn on the tap but the part went off completely and the water poured out uncontrollably. Shit I had forgotten Anna had told me it was faulty.

“That’s a six-hundred-dollar shirt! You have to make sure that stain gets out. I can’t afford someone cleaning that!” Fuck. Six hundred dollars? Even double and triple tabs wouldn’t cover it. “Okay,” I whisper, my voice trembling. I turn around to the table, which now looks similar to a murder scene. I throw the napkins on the table to soak up what I can, almost tripping over one of Madden’s friends in my haste to get to his bloody shirt. The stain is huge—a dark, spreading purple blotch across his crisp shirt. Shit! “That’s not going to work,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Can I clean this somewhere?”

I didn’t bother lifting my head. Hazel pushed inside, the tray in her hands rattling softly with whatever she’d brought this time. She paused just inside the doorway, the light from the hall slicing across the floor. I heard her sigh before she nudged the door shut with her hip. “Dallas, look at this room. Clothes everywhere, it reeks so badly I can smell it from the front door. You’re not even trying anymore. Get up and bathe, at least. I’m worried sick about you. This isn’t the way to handle it.”

CHAPTER 1: TIED OPEN FOR DADDY (WARNING: DEGRADATION, HARDCORE ROUGH SEX AND KINKS) LAURA “Please, Daddy… please, I can’t—oh God, I can’t take it anymore!” My scream ripped out of me, raw and desperate, as he cranked the speed on the plugs buried inside my pussy and my ass. “Turn them off, Daddy, please! I’m begging you—my pussy, my ass, they’re fucking me so hard I’m going to break!”

"Shh. You did so good." The stranger guy quickly dressed back up. He brought out a towel from God knows where and began to clean me dry. He seems to be their new errand boy. They all quickly got dressed after cleaning themselves up and tossed me a new blouse to put on since they had torn mine. “Get dressed quickly and do not fucking tell anyone about this” Jake growled. “Do you fucking understand?” He snapped, pinching my chin between his fingers. “Yes,” I mumured, as I picked up the blouse.

I walk into my room, pick up my dirty clothes, and consider cleaning the blanket as well. I picked up the blanket and decided to clean it as well; I went downstairs because that's where the washing machine is. I opened it, placed the dirty clothes inside, and poured water on it. I then set the timer and sat down on a chair to wait while using my phone to check social media.

Tony gave an affirmative before he shut the bathroom door. With a wide smile, Dillon got to work and stripped the sheets off the bed. The quilt and pillow cases seemed totally fine, so he left them. The less things to be laundered, the better. Laundry sucked. Once the sheets were piled in the washer, he walked over to the corner. He picked up and gently laid his jacket on the edge of the bed to hang up in the front closet. The rest of the dirty clothes he simply crumpled up into a big ball and tossed them football-style in front of the washer. Why did Tony care about a dirty clothes pile on the floor in the corner but not in front of the washer? When will Tony make sense and get a hamper? Di