Desires Of Submission Novels & Stories

she murmured. Without delay, Sonu’s hands moved with practised expertise, roaming over the curve of her breasts, his touch firm yet reverent. His fingers found their mark, pinching and rolling her sensitive nipples, drawing out a soft, involuntary moan of pure pleasure from her throat. A tidal wave of desire washed over Nadia, a visceral urgency she couldn't, and didn't want to, ignore. She knew, with absolute clarity, that this surrender—letting go and submitting entirely to Sonu's intoxicating wishes—was precisely the cathartic release her body craved. With a playful glint in her eye, Nadia fully embraced his proposition, eager to see the extreme limits to which their passion would take th

"Look at you, taking your punishment so beautifully." The praise makes me whimper. I want to be beautiful for him, want to be everything he needs. The realization should scare me— this desperate desire to please a man I barely know, to submit to his will so completely. Instead, it just makes me wetter. The fifth strike comes harder, and I arch like a bow beneath him. The sting is exquisite, perfect, pushing me toward something I don't understand but desperately need. "Five!" My voice breaks on the word.

“If you let me. I can show you what it means to submit. What it means to belong to someone. To feel safe giving up control. It won’t always feel good. But it will always be real.” My chest heaved. I couldn’t think straight. Everything inside me was twisted and open and raw. But underneath the fear was something terrifyingly clear. I wanted this. I wanted him. His eyes softened just slightly. “But I don’t take what isn’t given. So you need to say it.” My voice trembled. “I want you to show me.” “To show you what?” I swallowed hard. “How to submit.” Dominic stepped behind me again, his hand gentle this time, sliding along the curve of my waist. “Then you’ll do as I say. From this moment on.”

This time he even explained what he meant. "What? Is he asking me if I want to get laid? Is he out of his mind?" I thought. I nodded to say no. But deep down I wanted to do it. A carnal desire which only few could resist. He ordered one of his men. "Untie him."

I feel weird things inside my damn heart, it's throbbing. I was captured, tantalized, and mesmerized by her beauty. Yeah, I admit that she is damn gorgeous and almost perfect! But when I deny it to myself, I'm definitely fooling myself. Crazy, man! Damn! Shit! I snapped back to reality, but it can't help as I just found myself smiling at her picture right now, even after staring at it and closing the phone's screen. I collapsed back onto the bed. The hell, Adam! What have you done?!

"I don't know what I want, Mistress. It confuses and scares me. I think I should be terrified to feel this good about it, yet I can't help how much I enjoy it. I want to end it now so I don't know what I am, but also want to see where it goes." "I understand. Admitting to yourself you have these desires is fearful. We're taught from childhood to be equal, to be free, to be independent. It feels like a violation of everything we've ever learned, that submission is wrong, and it certainly can be with the wrong person. Being timid and submissive to your ex was horribly wrong, because he misused your submissiveness.

The word throbbed on his lips, full of laughter and hunger. “No,” she replied, holding him in a steady gaze. "I want to submit. But not on your terms. I do not submit out of fear of hellfire or contract violation. I submit because I want to feel your mastery. I want to be pleasing you because it is my own desire to do so. The power dynamic remains. You are the Master. I am the willing submissive. But the foundation changes from coercion to consent."

“You’re not learning. Who’s in charge here?” “But I need it,” she whines. I step closer, pressing my body against her heated skin, my hand sliding between her thighs to feel how soaked she already is. “What you need and what you think you deserve are two different things. You come here chasing pain because it gets you off, but you never actually submit. You want the high without the surrender.” Her hips rock against my fingers despite her words. “I submit when it’s worth it.” I pinch her clit lightly, making her jolt. “You’re disrespectful, sub. What do you call me?”

The manor is not just a place; it is a sanctuary, a place where I can fully surrender to my darkest desires. There are moments when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I see what I have become—a reflection of his desires, molded by his will. I am his little slave, his slut, his whore, his pet. These names that would once have filled me with shame now only affirm my place in his world. I am what he calls me, what he wants me to be, and in that, I find a twisted sense of pride. I am dirty, yes, but I am perfect for him. In my submission, I have found a purpose that I never knew I needed.

" He stood up. Not fast. Not forcefully. Just deliberate. And came to stand in front of her—close enough for her to smell the danger on his skin. That warm, expensive cologne. That hint of smoke and sin. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever met,” he said, “who looks like she’d rather set herself on fire than be touched.” She flinched. He noticed. But didn’t push. “I don’t want your body,” he murmured, his voice molten velvet. “I want your *submission*.” Her throat dry. "Same thing." "No. It's not." His hand came up—but didn't make contact. Just floated above her jaw. "Submission isn't giving over your body. It's choosing to give someone your soul."