Best Bdsm Fiction Novels & Stories

" says my Master approvingly, as he pushes me down over the foot of the bed, bending me forward, face down, arms outstretched. He shackles me with the handcuffs to the bedposts, then pushes my feet apart with his. Another pair of cuffs snaps around my left ankle, and then my right, spreading my legs further. The bed is of wrought iron, metal bars at foot and head, handily available as anchors for ropes, scarves or chains. I chose it carefully for my apartment, for its beauty, and for utility in the games my Master and I enjoy. He reaches around and below me, working away at the laces of my bodice, gradually teasing the garment apart, allowing my breasts to hang free, enfolded in the curtain

Not exactly a great basis for BDSM. Yet, there was nothing I wanted more right now than to crawl on my knees to his bedroom and beg him to show me if that passion carried over to the sheets. Dark, forbidden fantasies that had been teasing my brain since I met him began to play like a slide show. My eyelids drooped down, and I felt myself sway towards Trev. The shrill ring of his phone rescued me from this lust-induced trance. He stormed over to where his cell phone laid and snapped it up so fast, I thought he was going to break it.

He reached for one of the books on the floor, picked up the thick literature textbook, and pressed it between my teeth. “Bite down,” he ordered. “And take this dick like a good girl.” I bit the book hard as he fucked me even harder. His hips slapped loudly against my ass. One hand gripped my hip, the other reached around to rub my clit fast and rough. I came hard — screaming into the book, my pussy clenching and pulsing around his thick cock as waves of pleasure crashed through me. He didn’t slow down. He kept pounding me, spanking my ass between thrusts, leaving more red marks on my skin.

But relaxation wasn't what I had in mind. I stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, running my fingers along the spines of the books until I found what I was looking for. The worn leather-bound volume felt heavy in my hands as I carried it over to the coffee table and opened it to the marked page. The intricate illustrations of whips, chains, and other BDSM paraphernalia made my pulse quicken with anticipation.

Me, I was steady, predictable, if someone complained about boring coffee, I would hand them a new mug. I gave an inward sigh, that's how Lizzie talked me into "leaving my comfort zone"and "exploring new options"or as she put it, "finding a man who could make your panties wet with just a glance". There was no way I was going to tell Lizzie that despite my modest lifestyle, I was hoarding BDSM books secretly in the back of my closet. They had been sitting next to my nightstand, these books being a recent addition to my romance collection, but my ex-boyfriend Charles had found them and when I confessed it was something I had wanted to try he flipped out and called me a freak stating I needed he

"Fuck, Rose. You're playing with fire." "Burn me," I whisper, kissing his neck. He flips us, pinning me to the couch. "You want this? The real me? I'm not gentle, little sister. I like control. Pain with pleasure." My pulse races. "Show me." He stands, pulling me up. "Upstairs. My room. Now." I follow, my heart pounding. His room is dim, lit by a lamp. He opens a drawer, revealing ropes, cuffs, a flogger—BDSM tools that make my core clench.

He didn't know whether it was addictive lust or unbelievable lust or both. He knew he didn't want to let her go. He would be her patron. Alicia knew how to draw men into her. She knew how to make his dream come true. He would be Alica's new patron. THE END OF SINFUL DESIRES🥳 Thank you for reading and supporting this novel, if you enjoyed this erotic collection then it’s a must to read my second book “BURNING PASSION”, it can be found on any book platform and unlike this book, Burning passion is a novella, so just sit back and enjoy a long blissful erotic stories

I smiled shyly. "Do you still like me after knowing this?" He asked, worried. "Yes, I still like you. Being in a BDSM relationship is not a crime that I'll hate you." "You still want to be with me?" He asked in disbelief. "Yes." I smiled and nodded at him. "I'm not gentle on the bed, Anushka. I don't make love, I fuck hard, very hard. I like to dominate and test the limits of girls on the bed. I like to punish them, order them." I gulped the lump down my throat, but his words excited me sexually.

I scream, not minding if I would draw attention. “Ahhh,” he groans and rams into me. Deeper. Fucking hard! I feel my cunt swell with his seeds, ones I wish would germinate inside of me. Lust in love, I come. Hard. Squirting and moaning like a bitch. New story alert: You’re locked in a room with your father's best friend. A freak, perverted sadist. You crossed the line by inviting your boyfriend over. To punish you, he straps you in a collar and drags you to his dark, kinky room, and teaches you how bad girls are handled.

he says, "I am going to pleasure you over and again. I am going to have you, in my bed, over the hood of my car, against the wall and anywhere else it pleases me to do so. "I am going to give you spine-arching, finger-curling, orgasms whenever I can. I want to see you with your mascara smeared, just-got-laid hair and your lips swollen, and I am going to fuck you until you walk bow-legged and they're all cheering me out on the street." Speechless, I simply lie there, drinking him in. "Nothing to say?" I shake my head. "No arguments?" "No, Master." "Good. And now, I'm going to fuck you hard and I want to hear you scream..."