Books About Bondage Novels & Stories

The moment our skin touches, everything in my vision sharpens. The glyph in our bodies—his over his chest, mine in my palm—igniting in tandem, a matched flare of gold and pale lightning. The twin bond snarls between us, not in pain, in refusal. Our magic doesn’t rise like two separate storms. It locks. Not into the door, into each other. The pull stutters.

"Did anyone talk to you about getting out of bondage as soon as you were done? Once you are out of the 'sexing' mode and have been satisfied, bondage can get really uncomfortable for the limbs." "How would you know that?" "I have known others who wanted to experiment. Some were pretty committed. For instance, one girl always wanted to be bound face-down, and maybe with more than one guy involved... one to visit each hole plus a switch-hitter to finish, doing both holes after she was sloppy. Another time a girl and a guy wanted a third for a double bondage. They wanted to be there, helpless, while their partner was used by somebody they trusted."

But tonight, they felt like my only lifeline. I pulled out the first one, The Sacred Tether: Understanding Soul Bonds, and flipped through it quickly, scanning for anything on how to break a bond. My hands trembled as I turned the pages. “Severing a bond is rare…” “Dangerous…” “Often leads to emotional instability or permanent damage…” I slammed the book shut. “No. That can’t be all there is,” I muttered, tossing it onto the bed and grabbing another one. Dark Threads and Light: The Balance of Bonds.

That combination drives me insane. He grabs my wrists and stretches them out toward the desk’s corners, and ties each one down securely with that same rope. I test the tension. If I even slightly move my hands, my hair pulls back. Damn! He’s so good at bondage. His skill is amazing. Deep inside, all my life, I had been yearning for a man like him, who fulfils all my deep and dark desires. And I really feel like he reads the desires I never had the courage to say out loud.

I took the contract home. I read it seventeen times. The list of activities was extensive — bondage, impact play, sensory deprivation, edging, sensation play, praise, degradation, and dozens of other terms I had to look up. Next to each one was a space to mark "Yes," "Maybe," "No," or "Curious." I found myself marking "Curious" more than I expected. Bondage — being physically restrained, unable to move. Curious. Sensory deprivation — blindfolds, earplugs, loss of external input.

He’s right, I’m absolutely mortified. The way he stands between me and them is a protective move, but surely he knows they would never hurt me. “We were only reading.” Ryder holds up his book, one with a particularly muscular, bearded man on the front. I bought that book because the cover reminded me of Phoenix. "Mine is definitely the best so far." Ranger holds up his. I instantly recognise it as one of the more explicit ones. It has bondage, doctor role pay, and lots of edging, which for some reason really appeals to me, even though it sounds like torture of the best kind.

Willow nods, she knows it will be. “I know; that’s why I’m putting several spells on it. One to hide the contents from anyone who hasn’t been given permission, one to bind the book closed so only I can open it, and another to make it invisible to everyone's eye when I’m not using it.” She has thought about it all, she will ensure no one can get into it.

His hands were shaking so badly he could barely grab the napkins. Mrs. Rodriguez appeared with a mop and paper towels, and for the next two minutes I helped clean up the mess while trying desperately to understand what had just happened. My wolf was going absolutely feral inside my chest, clawing and howling and demanding I go back to him, touch him again, claim him. No. No No No No No. This wasn't possible. This wasn't allowed. True Mate bonds didn't happen like this. They were supposed to be gradual, a pull that developed over weeks or months. Not a nuclear explosion on first contact. And they definitely, absolutely, under no circumstances were supposed to happen with HUMANS.

Next to it, a bondage chair with numerous straps and buckles seemed designed for prolonged, uncomfortable restraint. Against another wall, there was a rack of assorted whips from short, stingy crops to long, multi-tailed cat-o'-nine-tails. Hanging beside them were ropes of different lengths and thicknesses, ready for intricate shibari work or simple, restrictive binds. A table covered in an array of smaller devices drew my attention next. There were ball gags, bit gags, and ring gags, each one meant to silence any screams. Clamps of various sizes and designs were laid out, some connected by delicate chains. Vibrators and dildos in a variety of shapes and sizes, some with straps for forced us

One of the elders couldn’t hide his disdain, he stood up with an irritated look on his face, glancing from my face to the Alpha’s Alpha Cassian turned to him with a shrug. “Yes, is there any problem with it?” He seemed to dare the Elder to complain. The Elder cleared his throat. “No Alpha,” he shook his head. “The problem is just that, if you choose to save this magic user unlike all the other users that you have imprisoned or executed, the pack would start a revolt.” “And how many have ‘we’ imprisoned in the last 2 years?” “Three, two dead, one alive.” The elder cleared his throat.