Bdsm Master And Slave Novels & Stories

A Slut For My Professor (2) “I guess I just want to understand… what BDSM really is. I mean, I know it has to do with submission and, um, dominance... and something about slaves?” My voice drops at the end. He chuckles softly, and his lips curve into a knowing smile. “Most people have a very limited idea of what BDSM really is,” he says. “They hear the word ‘slave’ and immediately think of control, pain, and abuse."

"Do you mind explaining the game to me?" "Is BDSM, you know what it means right?" "I have heard of it." "Okay, now you are going to watch it and know what it entails. Just watch and learn. Most of these men here are very dominant when they have sex, so this is what they do to you when you go into the bedroom with them. You become their slaves." "How does that even work...?" "We have two slaves here!" a middle-aged man announced, interrupting Cassandra and Lucia. The crowd in the room cheered.

After a long, scalding shower—the hot water stinging her fresh wounds like fire, she wrapped herself in a threadbare towel and collapsed onto her bed, opening her laptop with trembling fingers. She searched online: "What is BDSM really about?" Dozens of articles and forums popped up, explaining concepts like consent, trust, aftercare, and safe words. Masters provided structure and guidance, subs found cathartic release in surrender. It wasn't just about pain; it was safe pain, negotiated with boundaries and mutual respect. Discipline, not random destruction. Emotional healing through controlled vulnerability.

I let go of his fingers and bit my lower lip, those two possibilities were intoxicating and I don't know if I can decide between them. "Open your eyes and look down." My Master ordered and I did as he spoke. My eyes immediately found Dylan and Kendrick. I can feel through the bond that they are angry and instead of causing me to be afraid, I let out a longer groan. "What a bad girl... Enjoy exposing what should be just for their gaze." My Master begins to squeeze both my breasts, harder and it sends little shocks straight to my sex and I get wetter and wetter. In my mind, I can already see Kendrick and Dylan punishing me, the way they would and how I would beg them to let me go and I know my

“You do realize I am still your Master and I can make you bow down to me for I have blessed you with my existence?” “Yes I am aware. But you won’t. Good night, Master.” I mocked him but he looked unbothered, as if I said something boring. I walked to the bedroom and it was nowhere closed to being the bedroom, it was the more advanced version of The Sex Dungeon we have back in that mansion. It was two times more ‘BDSM’ than the other one. It has pins, clippers, spanking benches all those things that was in that contract and mind you I disrespected him.

“Saying something, old man?” “Do we really need to guard this lady along with you, Boss?” He sounded like pissed or something. I scoffed. Boss, huh? “I’m telling this to Adam!” Seeing Francisco and his ugly apprentice makes my blood boiled. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have been putted in this kind of situation! Imagining being in someone's hands, who’s dangerous and could kill you in the blink of an eye. Who would be happy, huh? Adam has the upper hand and controls me based on what he wants. It’s like he’s my master and I’m his slave. Following all his orders until he says so.

Every stroke a claim deeper than skin. "Look at me." She did, tears spilling over. "You do not get to love me like a boyfriend, pet." I kept my rhythm steady, relentless. "You love me like a slave loves her owner. Like a whore loves the cock that ruins her. Say it." "I love you like a slave loves her owner," she gasped, hips rising to meet me. "Like a whore loves the cock that ruins her. I love you, Master. Please." I released her wrists only to cup her face, thumbs wiping tears as I fucked her harder.

I opened it and swallowed hard when I saw the title: “Punishment for a subject who attempts to flee from the master.” Subject? Master? This man stated that he wanted me, and I was currently nothing more than a subject to him. “Read it!” he barked. “The subject is to please the master with BDSM sex, conforming to all of his desires, and she must ensure that the master is completely satisfied.” He took the book from me after I had read it aloud. “A maid will come by and clean you up, and then you will meet me in my playroom,” he said, kissing my cheek before leaving the room.

It was warm now, swollen, ready, coated in milky strings, buzzing angrily as if every drop of blood in my body settled there. And me? I obeyed. I always obeyed my Masters. But this time? I was too quick. Too desperate to be fucked. To be sucked. To be ruined by Daddy's tongue. My knees hit the bed faster than my brain could process it. Slowly, I parted my legs…wide, positioning them in between Elion's head. Then it hit me like a blast, the scent of my arousal. It was raw. Sinful. Pungent. Fermented.

She repeated weakly, her lips trembling. “Three lines! Form three lines, fools,” Thorn growled, his long whip shining brightly in his hand. He quickly turned, his eyes fixed on me. “Get in line bitch,” he spat, his face twisted in a frown. “I'm try-ying,” I stuttered, pulling Steph. She could barely stand, her legs were bent making it impossible to lift her up. “Fuck!” I groaned, filled with frustration. The other slaves were already in line, murmuring within themselves.