Bdsm Short Stories Novels & Stories

I was twenty the first time I truly stepped into the world of BDSM. It started, as many things do, with curiosity and hunger. I was two years out of a lifeless marriage and insatiably horny. At first, I thought it was just about being used. Tied up. Told what to do. But the more I read, the more I watched, the more I ached, I realized it wasn’t about the sex alone. It was about control, power, and trust.

That I’m wild, reckless and experienced in every dirty thing imagined. But I’ve never stepped foot in a room like this. I swallow hard and force myself to speak. “Klaus, you don’t get to just… pull people from work and bring them into your—” I gesture weakly at the room. “BDSM dungeon.” He chuckles. Actually chuckles. Like I’m adorable for even trying. He doesn’t touch me at first, he just leans in close enough that his nose grazes the side of my throat. The breath he drags in makes me shudder, knees threatening to fold.

Chapter 3: Feral Knotting Under the Moon and Rival Bites That Claim Deep The massive knot at the base of Lucas’s cock throbbed deep inside Damien, locking them together on the forest floor. Every slow grind of Lucas’s hips forced another thick spurt of hot alpha cum into Damien’s already overflowing guts. The pressure was intense, the stretch burning in the most addictive way as the knot swelled even larger, sealing every drop inside.

And I wanted to be punished: Perhaps that, more than anything else. I began reading erotic BDSM stories. For a while this seemed to be enough. It allowed me to escape my life, if only for short periods of time. Erotic BDSM stories were challenging to find in my small town and soon found myself searching sites on the internet. This opened up a whole new world: Before I knew it, I was placing ads on personals sites, trying to make my dream a reality. Initially the responses were just crude. Even the ones I decided to contact, seemed a little beyond what I was looking for: Cruel men, perhaps dangerous too. Finally I received a response from Tony.

Pinky squinted to read it, her eyes tracing the loops and crosses. "Collection of short stories for ladies," the title read. "Stories of desire, of awakening, of the first time." Pinky blinked, her eyes widening as she read on. The handwriting was feminine, secretive, as if the writer were sharing her most guarded thoughts with only the pages. It was a confession. A revelation. As she began to read.

Someone slides underneath me and sucks hard on my clit while others continue fingering me and abusing my sensitive nipples. I cum again. And again. Each orgasm different, more shattering than the last. My juices drip down my thighs. The sheets are soaked. I’m a trembling, submissive mess. Blindfolded. Owned. Addicted. Just as I feel another devastating climax building, I hear the bedroom door open again. More footsteps. More soft feminine laughter. “Oh fuck…” I whimper. Vanessa laughs low and wicked, fingers still buried deep inside me, curling relentlessly. “The rest of the group just arrived, baby. Twenty of us in total tonight. And we’re not stopping until sunrise. Your husband won’t reco

She stopped because she had run out of breath and pride simultaneously. Her face was on fire. Her knees were aching. Her core was clenching desperately around nothing and she was kneeling naked on the floor of a BDSM club begging a stranger to fuck her with actual tears of desperation threatening to spill from her eyes and she had never in her life felt more humiliated. She had also never in her life felt more turned on. He looked down at her for a long still moment. Then the corner of his mouth curved. He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to hers, his eyes dropping to her lips and then back up to her eyes.

I dived into my bed with the magazine. “Just what I needed.” I muttered, I was very horny, but I tried to fight the thoughts that were coming to my mind, but the magazine in front of me wasn't helping matters. "Fuck it," I muttered, carefully scanning the magazine. It was a sex and foreplay guide. My eyes nearly popped off at the next picture. A man was sucking off the breasts of a woman who was obviously enjoying herself. I felt a rush to my pussy. I instantly knew had to do this before I completely lost my mind.

She was enjoying every bit of his weird, fetish sexual torture and having him explore his awkward fantasy on her. It felt good. So good. It felt nice. So nice and all she could ever wish for at the moment was more duration of it. In all her years of existence, she has never had anyone do anything out of the ordinary with her, and now getting to experience such treatment from someone younger was something that was going to be in her mind forever. "Should I continue?" He smirked. She nodded furiously without hesitation, agog over the question. Her eyes were shut so tightly, and her two palms grasped his bald head. She never for once wanted to know why he preferred being bald instead of keeping

Jessa’s world narrowed to the slam of their bodies, the slap of skin, the crude, beautiful words pouring from their mouths. “Such a tight little asshole,” Arthur grunted, his hands digging into her flesh. “Taking my cock so good.” “Her pussy’s milking me,” Daniel gasped. “God, she’s gonna make me fucking cum.” Jessa felt it—the orgasm erupting from her core, a white-hot wave that crashed through her. She screamed, a raw, unfiltered sound of release, her body convulsing around their cocks. Daniel shouted, his hips slamming into her one final time as he spilled inside her pussy, hot and deep. Arthur followed, a guttural roar as he pulsed into her ass, his own release joining the heat flooding