Bdms Club Novels & Stories

I always worry about him. Brick I’m working at Club Reckless tonight. It is my home away from home. A safe place for people to explore themselves. A BDSM club where subs could find a Dom for the night or more. Where people could participate in threesomes or more without fear of ridicule. And they can do it safely. I have a bar and dance floor for people to just relax. I have a stage show every two hours for people who just want to watch. I have fifteen private rooms for people to use. There is a variety for people to choose from. For people that are into age play, we have two nurseries and two toddler rooms. I have eight playrooms with a large variety of toys to choose from. The last three r

The times I had been here was strictly for drug business. Tonight was for something totally different and I was going into the main area where the BDSM show usually happened live. I was greeted with a loud, banging rap song that shook the entire place. Not shaken at all 'cause I've gotten used to this sort of noise. The entire place was filled up with smoke from weed and whatever substance added to it. Everywhere smelled of alcohol and different body scents...and the lighting was dim as fuck. I sat down at the extreme where my eyes could easily see those leaving through the exit door. Settled now, I texted Mason, telling him I was inside the club.

She could hear the girls moaning and screaming and the guys groaning in pleasure and pain from all directions. She was confused thinking should she go ahead or go back. "What is he doing here? Is he here to find a girl for him? I just hope I'm wrong." Susanna's heart was thumping wildly against her ribcage as she was walking ahead looking here and there to find Daniel anywhere. She was just hoping that he was not here. She had never thought in her worst nightmare she would ever come to a BDSM Club.

The words Dungeon Monitor is stamped in black across the front and I fight the urge to giggle. Seriously? “A lot of people come here to find someone to play with just for the night. They don’t have a contract, or a history together. Good BDSM clubs will always have monitors around to keep an eye on things and make sure everyone follows the rules. Safewords are sacrosanct.” He turns to the monitor. “Please stay within hearing distance of this sub and let his master know if he needs him.” The monitor nods her agreement, finding a spot behind me. I have to twist my neck uncomfortably to see her. She can hear me if I speak, but she won’t be an intrusive presence.

She catches my hand before I can pull away, her eyes wide with worry. "Hayden..." I squeeze her fingers once, trying to reassure her. "I promise." I walk out before anyone can ask questions. The moment I'm in the car, I call the detective. "Tell me," I say the second he picks up. "Is there a place these three visit regularly?" There's a pause on the line. "Yes," he says carefully. "They all frequent the same underground venue. It's a private BDSM club. Very exclusive. Very... extreme. The kind of place where rules don't apply if you pay enough."

Something caught between curiosity and daring. "What... Kind of club is that?" The the last things she'd expected spilled out of her lips. "BDSM."

That last question—I need to know. She looks around, her eyes scanning the space, the scenes unfolding in front of her. Her expression doesn’t give much away, but when she speaks, it’s not what I expected. “It’s not bad, Dante,” she says softly, surprising me. “It’s BDSM, it’s a swingers’ club. This is nothing like the others. If anything, this is easier to accept than the strip club.”

A woman was tied to a frame, her back striped red, a man with a flogger working in rhythm. Another was on her knees, a leash attached to her collar, her owner's hand wrapped in the leather. A third was bent over a sawhorse, a man's cock slamming into her cunt from behind—I could see her wetness running down her thighs, hear the wet smack of his balls against her clit. My cunt clenched. A fresh gush of slick heat dripped down my inner thigh. Dominic leaned down. His breath was hot on my ear. "Welcome to The Underground. The real one. Not the tourist shit they advertise online. This is where people like us come to play. The BDSM clubhouse"

When had paddling a sub’s ass become a chore? Damien struggled to keep his boredom hidden. The sub tied to the spanking bench deserved his full attention. Anything less was an insult. “How are you doing, Lila?” he asked, putting the paddle aside. Lila was one of the waitresses at Club Obsidian. Since moving to the city, Obsidian had become like a second home to Damien. His old friend, Marcus Hale, owned the BDSM club. “I’m good, Sir,” she murmured, letting out a soft sigh as he ran his hands over her bottom.

"Yes, and if her husband didn't own it, having a free pass would be impossible without a major act of God, so be happy that I have connections." Jewel's hand went to her bruise. "I can't go to a club." "That's foolishness. It's not a pickup spot. It's very organized and ritzy. Believe me-I've been in some pretty sleazy BDSM clubs and this one's nothing like those." "BDSM club." She covered her mouth because she actually shrieked.