Bdsm Club Novels & Stories

CLUB GOLD. I'd heard of it, of course. Everyone in certain circles had. An exclusive BDSM club for the wealthy and powerful. The kind of place Marcus's friends whispered about with knowing smirks. A place I'd never been allowed to go—not that I'd wanted to. Not after what Marcus had done to me in the name of dominance. But right now, it represented something Marcus's world didn't: sanctuary. The club's service entrance was around back, hidden in shadows. I tested the door. Unlocked. My hands shook as I slipped inside, careful to close it silently behind me.

’ He replied and his number two took a deep breath, ‘I don’t trust him and I took the liberty of doing some background checking, he doesn’t add up Caleb, something is very wrong about his practice. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he has rave reviews and you can only see him by word of mouth, he has some very exclusive clients. The trouble is I could not verify any of the testimonials given, every last one cited their right to privacy and refused to clarify. Not only that but some of the younger women he ‘treated’ have disappeared, and worse he has links to a notorious BDSM club. It takes the BDSM lifestyle to its furthest extremes, women are kept as virtual sex slaves

But what he asked him, he had never even dreamt. Tim went to a BDSM club and paid to have a woman for a night. There was a rule in that club. They took care of their prostitutes. A single scratch against the will of the male or female prostitute and the person who had booked the prostitute would bear the legal actions and would face the law.

My fingers tightened around his. “You okay?” he asked quietly. “I think so,” I admitted. “This is just… a lot.” "Aaron and I co-own a BDSM club in the city. We usually have small displays like this when we go on cruises.” The words settled between us and my pulse skipped. I should be overwhelmed. I am. But beneath that—something else sparks. Desire.Anticipation.

I said, "we attended a BDSM club, which in this case, stood for Bondage, Discipline, Sadism and Masochism. Some of the people were like us, in loving relationships. Others were not. There were people there who took pleasure in pain and were more interested in beating a slave than fucking one and those who took pleasure from their pain, more interested in the beating than the fucking. It was not uncommon to see some people who had scars or marks which were placed there days or even weeks ago. Some of the instruments available for inflicting pain were quite horrible. As I said, you're seeing a romanticized version of sex slavery from people who love one another,

This story may be triggering for some. It does have bad language, dark sexual themes and scenes in a bdsm club. Please beware. Brandt "Boss, I've got a young lady out here that says there is an emergency and she needs to get her mother from inside the club.” I heard this in my earpiece. It’s Wednesday night and well, never a dull moment in a BDSM club, no matter what night it is.

I exhaled, finally. Back at my desk, I pulled up my computer and searched The Obsidian Room. The first result made me freeze. A red-lit website filled the screen , the place was dark like a club and it showed a picture of the inside part, and the girls were showing far too much skin. The tagline read: “Where control meets desire.” Not a restaurant. A private members-only strip and BDSM club. My jaw dropped. I scrolled further, skimming the description. Discretion guaranteed. Exclusive clientele. Invitation-only.

" _*]:min-w-0 gap-3" My cock throbbed at his confession. "What if we did it again? Not with Marcus necessarily, but exploring that dynamic more. Me bringing in other elements, other people, other experiences while still maintaining complete control over you." _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> His breath hitched. "Like what?" _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> Instead of answering, I pulled out my phone and showed him a website I'd been looking at earlier. "There's a private club about an hour from here. Very exclusive, very discreet. It caters to people in the lifestyle. BDSM, power exchange, exhibitionism."

A part of me wanted to yell at him and unleash my anger on him and another wanted to ask him to fuck me right here in the car. "Was the clubhouse nice?" He questioned again and he turned to look at me, trying to get my attention. "Yes" I replied coldly with my eyes still fixed outside. I didn't turn to look at him but my I could sense him looking at me whilst he drove. "That's literally the craziest BDSM club in this city, they offer quality sexual experiences that'll make you go crazy. They built it years back and ever since, the owner makes millions every night" He uttered, his voice hinted enthusiasm.

“And you’re not allowed to shower all fucking night, baby. I want my spunk sticky on your skin as it dries. I want you to know what I did to you.” He slapped my clit again. Repeatedly. “Give me another one, Fina. Come for Uncle Damien. I’m making up for all the birthday and Christmas gifts I missed giving you all those years before my big brother let me meet his little girl.” I tipped my head back, closed my eyes, and cried out because his words ignited something raunchy in me. It was all I needed to come, to feel my pussy clench and relax around his cock as I milked him and worked him toward his own release.