Books About Bondage Novels & Stories

“The fantasies. The things you think about when you touch yourself. I want to know what makes you wet.” My breath hitches. “I… I like the idea of not being in control, being held down or tied up, blindfolded. Where I can’t see or move and I just have to feel everything you do to me.” His eyes darken, but his voice stays calm. “Bondage. Sensory deprivation. You want to surrender completely.” “Yes,” I admit, voice barely above a whisper.

I felt him everywhere– my nipples, my waist, my hips, and even on my thighs, pushing through the fabric to touch the flesh in between my legs. I couldn’t deny the feeling– his hands felt good and made me excited, and I wanted him to do more… More to my body… I was enjoying every bit of his touch– even when I wasn't supposed to. This man had held me captive against my will. Had my sister beaten and tortured to the brink of death. He was supposed to be my enemy. How could I enjoy the pleasure of his arms and touch? “I could make love to you right here,” I tilted my head backward, still holding his gaze as I felt his fingers rubbing my entrance. “And right now.”

“And I’m going to tease this greedy little pussy of yours until you’re screaming. And you’re not going to come until I say you can. And you’re certainly not getting my cock until I decide you’ve earned it.” Her pussy clenched, empty and aching, at his words. The humiliation, the absolute control—it was everything she’d fantasized about for years. She nodded, wordless. “On your back. Legs spread. Arms above your head.” She obeyed, her heart hammering. He moved with practiced efficiency, tying her wrists together with the silk rope and securing them to the wrought-iron headboard. The bonds were firm, unyielding, but the silk was smooth against her skin. He looped more rope around her ankles, t

EMBERLY* I patiently wait as Derrick strokes and braids the Japanese silk rope in shibari knots from my lower torso up and around my breast, then up and over my shoulders as he weaves the material along my spine. I relish in the feeling of my breast jutting out between the bindings of the silk rope that tingle and throb, making my core pound. I can feel my fluids coating the inner layer of my thighs. I do my best to keep from coming as Derrick works his magic. He sucks and nibbles at my flesh as he works the silk rope and knots up and down my back. Derrick's hooded gaze meets my own as he puts me in a standing position. He licks and fingers my sex before binding the outer edges of my folds u

it stays with me. I mark it green. And I tick black for “not done before.” Bondage comes next, broken down again. Wrists, ankles, full-body, breast binding, mouth. The specificity surprises me, but I go through them one by one, listening to the quiet voice inside me that knows the difference between curiosity and discomfort. Then comes Breath Control. The description reads: Only practiced safely, with awareness of pressure points and no obstruction that could cause damage. It’s written carefully, not with the usual bravado some men use when listing what they like, but with caution. Responsibility.

Chapter 17: She Is Ours Logan For the next section, there are definitions included with each part to add additional clarification. She said yes to bondage using cuffs, heavy, intricate and light bondage, locks, spreader bars, suspension and whole body restrictions using the material of chains, leather, ropes, scarves and tape. Some of the more intense and advanced things she rated as a combination of hard and soft limits. Like before, she has had no experience with any. "Breath play?" Kingston asked.

I put my hands under the table and put it into the middle of my thighs before slamming them against my hands squeezing them tightly. I’m so fucking wet right now and it’s all because my stepbrother rubbed my thighs. What the fuck is happening to me? “You know I can do that for you.” Josh whispers again,his eyes on what I’m doing and I quickly separate my legs. “I can’t believe I’m having so much effect on you.” “Stop dreaming.” I put my hands back on the table and look at Josh. My gaze shifts to his lips and I involuntarily lick mine. I look back into his eyes and almost get lost in it.

Sometimes it happened when he meant to have fun. Bobby loved martial arts and was always trying to learn more. Browsing around on YouTube one day he found videos about hojojutsu, the Samurai art of tying people up. He was particularly intrigued by the clips showing different ways of getting the rope on your opponent as you wrestled him. He ran these over and over, studying them, memorising every move. Hojojutsu was used in olden times for taking prisoners for ransom or questioning. Of course Bobby had another use in mind for this ancient art. He cruised S&M sites and found plenty of guys who wanted to be tied up. What he really needed, though, were guys who would resist.

“So next, I’ll give you the book. It’s called 'The Submissive’s Path: 30 Fundamentals of BDSM.' After reading through the foundations, you’ll get a contract to review. Within this 15-day period, I’ll take note of your interest through our conversations, your body, and verbal responses. You can confirm them in the contract before signing. How’s that sound?” He responded softly, “Yes, Sir.” I walked out to the study, picked up the book, and came back, dropping it in front of him. The cover was a sleek grey with a striking image: a bare man blindfolded with silk ties, ropes binding his hands upward, wearing nothing but delicate lace panties, a paddle clenched between his teeth. His body glisten

This folder contains several papers, and one of them, Jonathan hands it to me. "Read it and ask what you want to know." We sit on the bed, facing each other, in a Buddha shape. I read the contract. I remember how I was so curious to have one of these at the time of the acclaimed film 50 Shades of Grey. "Right, bondage?" "All kinds of restraints. Ropes, handcuffs, ties..." "I like that." He smiles. I continue. "Ageplay?" "You're not ready for that." "Pet Play?"