Paid Short Stories Novels & Stories

Lexi Voss is a p**n star just at 24, a girl who love sex so much and is now addicted to it and this made her become a p**n star but she still don’t get satisfied even after all the sex and deep fucking she gets on set, she always wanted more for her wet pussy.

The kind of place where a single coffee cost more than her lunch budget for the week. But Joseph had suggested it, and she hadn't argued. She ordered a cortado she couldn't afford and sat at a corner table, her hands wrapped around the small cup for warmth she didn't need. Her phone sat face-up on the table. 10:32 AM. He was late. Or maybe he wasn't coming at all. Maybe he'd sobered up, realized offering forty thousand euros to a stranger was insane, and decided to ghost her. Rachel wouldn't blame him.

“You seem lost and afraid. Is it about the bad guy and the unpaid debt?” I nodded desperately. “Well, I know how you can clear this debt in 4 days,” she said confidently, looking me dead in the eyes. “How?” “There is a site that provides clients that pays you for every exclusive post you send to them,” she started and my mind wandered to our last conversation. “Exclusive?” “Yes, if they find you charming, they spend more on you so that you can satisfy them by selling your body to them. Do whatever they want. The reward is handsome, Lily, think about it.”

“Thank you Professor. My dad left us broke a while back and now the scholarship is gone so this TA money is the only thing keeping me in school. I will not let you down, I promise.” He gave a short nod and went back to marking his own stack. We worked in silence for a while. The only sounds were the scratch of pens and his occasional low grunt when he crossed out whole paragraphs. I kept my head down trying to focus on the terrible student essay in front of me but my mind kept slipping to how much debt my mom was carrying and how badly I needed every cent this job could give me.

"But don't be disappointed when this girl leaves you for a white guy! You know those oyimbo now... Don't say I didn't warn you oo!" "Just leave me alone, madam-oversabi!" Okay okay... Whatever! I've managed to gather some money from my story writing. I scripted a story for some university students and they paid me well, a thousand naira per story. Oh thank goodness you're able to do something with those tiny hands of yours. We're so wretched Zay! Wretched!! Point of connection, naughty! You're the only wretched person here, not me. Insha Allah, we'll make something out of life.

I was definitely putting the cart before the horse. As soon as I dropped Charlie off at Middle School Wednesday morning I headed home. My heart was already beating a little faster thinking about lunchtime. Sandy was coming over! I'll admit I didn't get a lot done on what I was working on, although it was definitely better than that horrid manual had been. This was an anthology of short stories from an independent publishing house that I'd worked for before, with all the authors under twenty-four years old. The clock seemingly was moving at a glacial pace, but eventually my phone chimed.

Maya’s heart hammered against her ribs as the heavy steel door clicked shut behind her. The invitation had cost her three grand and a favor from a source who owed her big. *The Vault* didn’t advertise. You got in because someone who mattered wanted you there—or because you were useful. Tonight she was both: freelance journalist chasing a story on the ultra-rich and their dirty little playgrounds.

They were a passing thing. Yanta looked at the notices that were hanged on the notice board. The notices read: “Darrish Drinkwell, our greatest storyteller, is returning to scene with a second tome of his Tales Untold. The Hartin and Dartin Company are planning to publish a legend book. We will ask Drinkwell to write one more, if he accepts, well, you know the rest. Plan in advance, good folk; this is an opportunity unlike any other. You won’t cheaper copies that ours.

Dear Reader, My editor and the people of GoodNovel haven't resonded to a single email or checked my edits in over 2 months now. They own Middle Land but they haven't been forthcoming about anything else. They refused to acknowledge my completed work that was up for competition: Talk Dirty to Me. They said this book would sign as exclusive and it's non-exclusive, so I don't get the benefits of being a writer from this story. I'm writing it because of my sheer love of reading and writing romance novels.

However, her injuries were so severe that she died on her first day in prison. As for Shawn, Derek crippled him and cast him out of the family. For the rest of his days, he lived a life worse than death. Later, I learned from others that Shawn had been found dead in an abandoned building. Stray cats and dogs had fed on his body, leaving behind a grisly scene. Once a rising young businessman in society, he ended up as nothing more than a meal for strays. The story sounded almost unbelievable. Derek and I both felt that was exactly what he deserved.