Bdsm Erotica Novels & Stories

“I knew they published things like that. Did you want to borrow it to help you get comfortable with reading it? I know it’s not for everyone.” Zach looked at her in surprise. He hadn’t guessed she would be into reading things like that. He had assumed the main demographic was middle aged and older women. “I’m allowed to pass on the opportunity to edit BDSM erotica,” he explained. “That’s nice of your boss,” Emilia agreed. “Have you told your CEO best friend about your discovery?” It had been a few days since he had had any contact with Darien. His romantic feelings were almost gone, he could contact him now. He would be able to pretend everything was normal.

*************** Jeremy wasn’t prepared for when the same stranger from last night walked into the chapel, all tousled hair and unbuttoned shirt at the top. Graphic images of their erotic night together flashing across his mind. The man had brought him to his release three times that night, and Jeremy had collapsed, satiated, wondering if he’d ever be able to move on from such an amount of pleasure. If anything, he’d wanted to experience more of that. But his sad reality awaited. Which was already playing out. He felt a tap on his hand that was curled lightly underneath her chin, sharp and stinging. “What are you doing?” Bridget demanded through gritted teeth, trying to communicate with her e

She is finally getting a bit braver. "It's called the BDSM lifestyle. Bondage, dominance, sadism, and masochism. Please don't be afraid or scared about it. I won't hurt you in a way that you don't like. Everything has consent—a signed contract from both of us. You set the limit; you set about what you like and don't, and if you are willing to know more, let's sit and talk." "Alright, I want to know more." We both sit on the bed, and I send her a digital contract from my phone.

“Strip, Corporate Cum Queen. We’re upgrading the contract today.” My heart hammered as I peeled off my blouse and skirt, standing naked in front of them. Jax opened the box and pulled out the most insane BDSM contraption I’d ever seen: a full-body leather harness with silver rings, built-in nipple clamps connected by thin chains, a thick remote-controlled dildo with a bulbous base that locked inside me, electric stim pads for my clit and inner thighs, and a delicate silver shock collar that read “Property of Strategic Innovations” in tiny engraved letters.

she begged, nails raking his back. He fucked her through it, then pulled out and flipped her onto all fours. Gripping her hips, he slammed back in from behind, one hand reaching around to rub her oversensitive clit. His thrusts were powerful yet controlled, exotic in their precision—hitting every sweet spot. He leaned over her back, biting her shoulder gently while whispering filthy-sweet words. “This pussy was made for me. You’re mine tonight.” Alia pushed back, meeting every stroke, lost in ecstasy. The pleasure built to a shattering peak. Damon’s rhythm faltered as he neared the edge. “Cum with me, Alia.”

Being truthful with one’s partner is BDSM 101. I’m always completely honest with Emily, I never lie to her. However, there’s so much that I’ve never told her about myself. Not because I particularly want to hide these things, but because she isn’t ready to understand who I am. Even Emily’s rather formidable, Mount Everest-size devotion for me wouldn’t be enough to keep her, if I told her everything now. The truth is that I have rather ‘sophisticated’ sexual tastes. Okay, other terms for them might be, ‘perverse,’ ‘depraved,’ ‘sadistic,’ or simply over-the-top kinky.

For the first time, it dawned on me that they had been talking about something else all this time. "BDSM is someone?" I asked, my words sounding barely audible. The others quickly averted their gaze from me, and I wasn't feeling comfortable anymore. "No, the fuck. BDSM is sex. Hardcore sex that deals with pleasure and pain. It fully stands for bondage, discipline, or domination—sadism and masochism." My lips dropped open, shock evident on my face, eyes widening with shock, cheeks burning red as I stared at Syra. Her face looked serious—she wasn't joking.

"I told you I trust you—" "I know. But trust isn't enough for this. I need informed consent." He takes a breath. "I want to introduce you to BDSM. Real BDSM. Not just spanking or dirty talk—actual dominance and submission. Bondage. Sensory deprivation. Power exchange. Things that require you to be completely vulnerable with me." My mouth goes dry. "Okay."

I provoked her, “No— no we have never done it, he di— you... You killed him before he could,” she explained while I caressed her breast, “I want to introduce you to something, it's called BDSM, do you know what that is?” I grinned. “No— no... I don't,” she moaned, unable to focus on what I'm saying. “It's role-playing, bondage... Dominance... Submission... Masochism,” I circled her. “What— what does it mean?” her voice trembled.

Nothing to write home about really, though, and it had left her wondering if the whole thing had been overhyped, like some lame movie the studios really wanted you to see anyway. Her stomach fluttered again as she sat in front of the computer and tapped the touchpad, waking the computer. The open tab was a website about BDSM in general. She skimmed information about power exchange, and about Dominants and submissives, defining roles and outlining characteristics. Another tab laid out various kinds of kink: bondage, rope play, spanking, which she learned was part of what was called 'impact play,' the pleasure/pain connection, and more. She felt herself becoming aroused as she clicked on a