Bdsmstories Novels & Stories

Gio shook his head "I want them collared all the time for now. So I think I agree precious metal for daytime and lace for bedtime." Cherry handed him a business card with the store's info on the front and a couple of different websites written on the back. "Those sites should help. The top one has actual articles for creating better Dominants and training submissives. The second concentrate on the BDSM stories and a lot of them are about Master/submissive tales that should not only help you learn about the lifestyle but inspire you as well. Now let's look at some Collars and other stuff I think you might like for training your girls."

He soon cummed. Meanwhile what started as normal sex soon took a wild turn in the hotel 's bedroom. Nikhil couldn't control himself. He became wild and started slapping Sunna hard on her butt that even left marks of his hands on her ass. He pulled her hair tightly while sex and kept on pounding her so hard that she fainted from exhaustion. He also had marks on her fingers all over his back and shoulders . He finished inside her despite knowing the fact he wasn't wearing a condom and she could get pregnant but the thought of sowing his seed inside such a beautiful woman was extremely exciting for him.

“He’s safe with me, Alina. Now go on. And Darren, be gentle with Alina. She’s...shy.’ Tata spoke as Darren linked his finger through mine and led me away! While Damon and Tars walked up the stairs at the opposite end of the room, the last thing I saw was a reassuring smile on Damon's face while I smiled right back at him. “Where are they going?” I spurred out as Darwen clicked open a door. “Bdsm section… Tara likes it, rough.” Darren spoke before locking his lips against mine again, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Anna, where have you been? I texted you yesterday.” I said, “I need to see you. Can you come over?” She said, “On my way.” Lisa got there in twenty minutes, and she walked in and hugged me. “You look rough. What happened?” I sat on the couch, and she sat next to me. I said, “Remember the rich guy, the one night thing?” She said, “Yeah, the BDSM billionaire you got money from.” I said, “It happened more than one night, He paid double.”

This story deals with themes of hardcore BDSM and humiliation. Skip this story if you can't handle the heat. (Big Butt Plug : A lesbian BDSM Story - Part 2) "This is where you start learning, baby." I murmur. I pressed the tip of the plug against her asshole, gently circling it. Tory whimpered, her breath fogging the glass. I could feel her body trembling beneath me. My free hand grazed her lower back, tracing down to the curve of her ass. She flinched when I pushed the plug in slowly, working it past the tight ring of muscle.

Just clear statements about what would happen if I agreed. You will submit completely. You will be restrained, used, degraded, and fucked in every hole. You will not come without permission. You will address me as Daddy or Sir at all times during scenes. Safe words: Red (stop), Yellow (check-in). Failure to use safe words when needed will result in immediate termination of the arrangement. There was more—detailed lists of acts he planned to perform. Bondage. Edging. Impact play. Anal training. Multiple orgasms. Orgasm denial. Throat fucking. The list went on.

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 was twenty-four at the time, fresh out of her master’s program, wearing a simple navy dress that looked elegant on her and completely out of place among the glittering crowd. She had this quiet, earnest way of speaking about coral reefs and sea turtles that made the rest of the room feel loud and fake. I was thirty-four, already running my own architecture firm, and known in certain private circles as someone who liked control in the boardroom and everywhere else. I had been a fan of BDSM for over a decade. Safe, sane, consensual scenes with experienced partners who knew exactly what they were signing up for. Whips, cuffs, ropes, rules, praise and punishment, it was part of who I was. Bu

“Unfortunately, though, I won’t see you inside. It’s a more exclusive event this time around.” “That’s too bad,” Willow said, not really meaning it. Jeff was nice enough, but she’d have preferred her holiday adventures in the community room to remain a bit more anonymous than they had. She took a deep breath and paused before going into the room. The banner suggested that whatever was going on inside involved BDSM-- bondage, discipline/domination, submission/sadism, and masochism. She was familiar with all of that, of course, but had never given it too much thought.

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.