Morally Decadent Novels & Stories

He confessed the turmoil that had plagued his heart, the battles he had fought in silence, and the uncharted desires that had taken root. Virginia was taken aback yet she listened, her expression a mixture of compassion and concern. She understood the complexities of human emotions, the fragile nature of hearts entwined in a complex web of relationships. This was not the first time she experienced such degeneracy. Her youthful days were stained with the immoral acts her father and his friends, causing her to build up some immunity. She was lucky that her body was the only thing scarred from that horrendous periods. ‌

He was a selfish coward whenever he got into trouble. I withdrew my gun and tilted my head. He seemed to have regained a little courage, he rubbed his hands cautiously as he spoke his next words. “One of my girls…” He says. “She’s a diligent worker and quite the beauty… I think you’ll find her rather appealing and best of all, she’s a virgin.” He laughs nervously and that was when the most utterly, gut churning disgust filled me. Morelle Reyllis was really a disgusting coward. In my world, there were gods and there were beast, those ready to devour each other and then there were scums; those who’d do anything to get a black taste of power and by all means necessary. They would drag down anyo

Is he really going to die here? “…can you not see that they were written anew time and time again because until now, humanity is still unable to grasp their true meaning? As of now, the subject of morality is nothing more but a shadow of itself–nothing but echoes of the past. So how can you, a life that has barely begun to live have an inkling of an idea upon whose will was it that claims that I am in the wrong?”

LORENZO Mafia meetings were all the same. A predictable, toxic cocktail of selfishness and greed. Different faces. Different suits, tailored to hide the lack of morality beneath the expensive wool. Same shit underneath. The stench of stale cigar smoke, old money, and desperation hung thick in the air of the private hall, curling lazily above our heads like it enjoyed watching men destroy each other. A long, mahogany table that cost more than a small country’s annual budget.

“If the Skull Kings fail to do the cruel things we’re known for, people will lose respect—” “We do plenty of cruel things. But we don’t do that.” Criminals prided themselves on the horrors they committed. But at a certain point, some crimes were too horrific to be proud of. Selling underage women was repulsive. That didn’t make us more admirable. It made us more pathetic. “That’s final. Ask me again and see what happens.” I held his gaze with my drink in my hand, prepared to crush his skull with the tumbler if I had to.

Even more so because it has been the same from days of yore. I feel pitiful because greed has always been their downfall as well. That dates back to those who passed before them. So, I pity their lack of either foresight or hindsight. It is as if they never learn that it is an unattainable and lofty goal. No one can attain such tremendous power and wealth and still hold on to their humanity. Wealth and power only corrode the conscience and corrupt the mind. But hey, who am I to worry over that? It is not my duty to exonerate these lowly, power-hungry creatures. My duty is to exploit their desires and get them to do my bidding.

That deep voice came back to me soon after and said: You don’t see the full picture here, Jimmy, these young people are the fallen ones, damned into this horrible existence that you think is somehow still governed by some sort of ancient moral code. That fairytale never existed and now all that is left is greed. This greed drives these young ones to do what they do, but the hell that live in adds fuel to their flames. Their forbearers have bred this into them, and it is the essence of who they are, so there is nothing you can do. Do not interfere or you will be severely reprimanded.

I don't know if it's due to our poor communication or if my love for him is just escaping the window. Chase and I have come along, and the last thing I want to do to him is cheat on him, but it seems I don't have a choice. All this guilt is killing me day by day, but still, I can't stop. I have become so attached to my coach lately, and it all started after that single night we spent together, and I'm sure tonight will form a steal for my addiction to him. "What's wrong with me?"

“But all you’ve ever known is obsession and decay. Your downfall is written across every realm—a so-called great being ruined by his own desire.” Her eyes never left him. “So tell me, Malachar… is this really about legacy? Or are you just chasing the echoes of a past you destroyed yourself?”

Makeup long ruined, hair matted with spit and cum—she looked exactly like what she had become: a completely corrupted, greedy cumdump who had betrayed every boundary for this night of ultimate depravity. Yet her eyes still burned with that rotten, insatiable fire. Her greedy cunt clenched visibly around nothing, pushing her prolapsed womb-flesh out even further as if begging for more abuse. “Please…” she whispered hoarsely, voice cracking. “All of you. Aiden too. Destroy me completely. I want every single cock and fist wrecking my holes until I’m nothing but a leaking, bred-out wreck. Ruin your filthy slut forever.”