Dirty Stories Online Novels & Stories

Anyone could walk in at any moment and see us, but none of us seemed to care. There was a certain thrill to it; the fact that we could get caught. We weren't doing anything illegal, but it sure felt like it. "You shouldn't be pleasured after your actions, yet here you are, enjoying it like a good little slut." I literally moaned. I'd thought dirty talk was overrated, but this… this right here was everything.

The apartment feels cold. Lyssa’s blanket still lies folded on the couch. Her favorite mug still sits in the sink. I stare at everything silently before opening my laptop. Then I search for something I normally would’ve judged other people for using. Anonymous gossip media brands. The kind that ruin reputations online. The kind celebrities secretly pay when they want dirt spread without their names attached. I find one almost immediately. MessyRoom. Their entire reputation is built on scandals. Fake leaks. Damaging stories. Character destruction. Exactly what I need.

Alex's POV Another useless idle day spent in a boring office full of paperwork and awful bosses who treat me like trash. I was far too annoyed, far too stressed, as I began searching BDSM clubs, submission, and someone else taking control of your life. Somehow it sounded wild yet tugged something within me. The Vault was the name that kept popping up. That was the secret spot where real Doms played rough.

Then the online magazines and blogs had to choose the route of stupidity, by focusing on class and taste. CHASE SEEMS TO HAVE DROPPED IN HIS TASTE AND CLASS, AS HE IS CAUGHT WITH HIS DAUGHTER'S NANNY PLAYBOY GETTING TO IT IN THE CLOSET And there was the ridiculous headline of some crazy, low budget online blog SEVERAL PLACES TO HAVE GOOD SEX WITH THE RIGHT WOMAN; MR DENVER PICKS THE STORAGE ROOM AND HIS DAUGHTER'S NANNY. This was just the height of this whole madness. It was funny, and he had laughed. Finally, after almost staying off the radar for a year and half, he gave them something to talk about, and they readily jumped at it with greed.

A few people stuck up for me, but most either didn't believe it, or didn't want to. I'm contemplating shutting down all my social media and taking a break--the shit's toxic. Who the hell runs clarenton secrets, you ask? Well, here's the answer: we're all asking, too. It could be one vindictive bitch or a group of bitches. Either way, they're some bitches for posting child pornography, among other things. I remember when Katy Schmitt's therapist's notes got leaked. How they managed that, I have no clue. That scandal led to one discovery: Katy has daddy issues.

Liana and Rosaline's scandal spread like wildfire online. Jasper and Liana's engagement news was no longer the top trending topic. It was replaced by hashtags like #LianaGardnersDaughter and #RosalineKirkmanContractKilling. The footage of the dumpster fire at the party had been leaked. Liana was shown screaming hysterically in the videos. The dress slip incident and her half-naked body were captured as well in what was a ridiculous soap opera that went viral online.

His style was no blitzkrieg; it was a siege, a slow draining of the fortress of its credibility. The dam did break the next week. Not in a business magazine, but on an international syndicated celebrity gossip website, the kind brokered in seedy headlines and grainy photos. The title was like a sledgehammer: BILLIONAIRE'S SHADOW: THE MYSTERIOUS MAN BY JOE BRIAN'S SIDE.

I clicked upload and typed the name I always used for my secret stash. “There.No one ever sees this shit but me.” I hit enter, leaned back against the pillows, and let out a long satisfied sigh. My pussy still throbbed softly, little aftershocks making me squeeze my legs together. God, that one felt good. I had really let myself go tonight, saying all the filthiest things that lived in the back of my head. The kind of stuff I would die if anyone on campus ever heard. My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Bradley's POV I wanted to put my fist straight through the drywall. The entire afternoon had been a fucking nightmare. The gossip blogs had moved past calling Tabitha a gold digger—now they were running hit pieces on where she came from. They were sniffing around the state social registry, dropping clickbait about "the dark history of Norwood's hidden wife" and trying to dig up her sealed juvenile records.

"We use a tiny bit of that money to hire a dirty online blogger. A man who writes gossip and lies for money. We pay him to keep pushing the story to the public every single day. We make sure he posts articles saying Alessia was a bad woman... saying she was a prostitute before you married her." Evander blinked, a dark, ugly grin spreading across his own face. "A prostitute? Oh, that is good. That will hurt her deeply. People on the internet love to read dirty stories like that." "Exactly," Liora said, nodding eagerly. "We pay this gossip writer to post new lies every morning. We make sure everyone in high society looks at her with disgust. Even if Lucien tries to protect her, he can't stop t