Novel & Cerita Domestic Discipline Fiction

Dominik It’s been seven days since I washed another man’s blood off my wife. Seven days of silence in the space where our heated arguments used to be. Seven days of sleeping with her clinging to me like a vine choking a tree, her small body curled into mine as if she’s trying to merge our ribcages. And seven days of celibacy. I’m a man of discipline. I’ve endured torture, starvation, and the maddening boredom of staking out enemies for weeks at a time in my younger days.

DOMINIC’S POV I push two fingers inside her and curl them forward with the same precision I bring to everything, except that here – in this room, on this couch, under these curtains, beside the pillow June arranged four times before she was satisfied with the angle – the academic architecture that my office provided has been demolished, and what remains is the raw fact of my hand between my stepdaughter’s legs while her mother’s perfume clings to the leather beneath us. The fiction I’ve been maintaining since the first Thursday is dissolving under the heat of her body, and the scent of her arousal mixing with June’s lavender fabric softener on the cushion covers is a combination that my wolf

“You'll never find a husband with that despicable attitude,“ he barks, slamming the book again. Another wave of pain surges through me, and blood drips onto the black marble below. That's one of the reasons why we have such ridiculous expensive floors. It's expensive, and well, it cleans easy. Blood, urine, spit, hair, cum—I’ve seen it all. All byproducts of punishment. Blood, from beatings like this. Urine, from when girls are made to pee in front of their dominants. Spit, when they’re degraded. Hair, ripped out by the handful. And cum… for when dominants make us sit and watch them masturbate over us. No sex, remember. But rape is a clear threat here. As soon as we leave this school.. We're

“Not at all. I honestly have nothing to say because Luna is not in the Villa at the moment and Ms. Harper is currently out too. It will be good if they can see them both and be the judge of the slaving part.” “Thank you.” He said to Theresa. He turned to face the men. “Is there anything else you would like to know?” “Yes, I heard that Alpha Dominic is very fierce and brutal and he extends that to those close to him. How true is that?” “You are wrong. You didn't get your facts right. There's a difference between being a fierce wolf and a brutal one. Alpha Dominic is disciplined. He has policies and that's something missing in today's world. If you ask me, I will tell you that wolves have gott

Saying that, Dominic sat down on the sofa and started farting. Long legs crossed, he lit a cigarette and took a bite. As he smoked, he waited for Lauren to write. From the looks of it, he was not going to leave. Lauren could only block them with one hand while writing quickly with the other. She hadn't been punished by her teacher in her life! she never thought that that person would be her husband, Dominic ! She wasn't his student, this was too much! Every word that came to mind was like a bad words for him...she was mentally abusing him..

The bistro is exactly as Dominic promised,quiet, unassuming, populated by elderly couples and young mothers with strollers rather than the power brokers and journalists who usually populate my orbit. For forty-five minutes, I almost feel like a normal woman. The kind of woman who worries about whether her salad dressing is too heavy, not whether her fiancé has betrayed her trust. The kind of woman who laughs at stories about children's ballet recitals and the absurdity of trying to get a six-year-old to remember her steps. Dominic talks about his daughter with the fond exasperation of a devoted father, his voice a steady, comforting drone that doesn't demand anything from me except occasiona

The soft music was mesmerizing and the expression on the woman's face was blissful as her partner spoke softly in her ear. The next tab showed a photo of a beautiful woman dressed in a filmy pink baby doll nightgown leaning dreamily over a giant teddy bear. The headline of the blog post was 'Daddy Doms/baby girls.' Shasta breathed in deeply. The article stated that, contrary to popular opinion, Daddy Doms are not pedophiles. They are loving and caring Dominant individuals whose natural desire is to have a nurturing and affectionate intimate relationship with a submissive who has a child-like aspect to her personality.

“Your daddy’s friends are running a train on you in his dining room, and you’re still talking shit. I fucking love it.” He fucks me hard and fast, one hand fisted in my hair, the other gripping my hip with bruising force. Dom doesn’t have Vincent’s patience or Marcus’s brutality. Dom fucks like it’s a sport — competitive and cocky and angled perfectly because he’s been watching the other three figure out what makes me cum and he’s using every piece of information against me. “Your little college boyfriend fuck you like this?” he pants, driving deep enough that I feel him in my chest.