F/m Bondage Stories Novels & Stories

"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."

“Look at this. Still stretched. You kept him gaping.” “I wanted to see if he could take both of us.” The second man laughed. “He’s gonna.” Cain moaned. Not from fear. From need. The man pulled a black case from the shelf and tossed it open on the bench. Rope. Straps. A double-ended dildo. A bottle of thick lube. Clamps. A heavy collar with a steel tag that read “USE ME.” They didn’t waste time. The first man grabbed Cain’s arms and dragged him to the wall beam. Tied his wrists above his head. Fastened the collar tight around his neck. Pulled the leash through a metal loop overhead and yanked.

“Absolutely, Master, I am yours. Have you never even fantasized about having a slave before?” “The last woman I was with was my wife; we never played any fantasy games. I have not touched anyone in ten years.” I felt the pang of loss begin to grow in my chest again. “Master, I am so sorry. I never knew you were married. May I make a suggestion that might help you to understand what you have gotten yourself into?” “I would be glad to hear anything you have to say.” She then suggested a couple of websites for me to read. Stories and such to let me know what I might want to try.

But in this case,people much worse, more dangerous, more brutal. And so,these children; all teenagers, with the exception of one, nicknamed the bully; fell into the hands of those who seek this evil pleasure. Not just to be stripped of their freedom but to become live players unknowingly. Their lives,an entertainment to their benefactors. And so,the horror of their lives began. -THE BONDAGE TRILOGY "Cameras are ready, sir Auctor." Sir Auctor looked up from the computer system he was operating, his eyes sharp and bright.

Still, we spoke in low, secretive voices. “I want to tell you something about me,” I had said. “Something I don’t already know?” He was toying with me. “Maybe. It’s just that I had always wanted to try bondage and discipline.” I looked down at my shoes. “It was a fantasy of mine long before I met you.” “What do you mean?” “You know, ropes, handcuffs, spanking and whips. You name it.” “Thena Robert, you shock me.” His sarcastic tone revealed that he’d known, and his feigned disbelief had embarrassed me.

She was scrolling through bdsm's history and came across several things and their explanations. The first thing she came across was rope bondage. Her heart thumped as she clicked on it. She read the words on her screen. Rope bondage restricts and restrain the movements of a submissive partner. The rope could either be wrapped artistically around the sub's body, or suspend the sub in the air.

“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

The real story wasn’t in the whips and chains, but in the humanity. I leaned against the wall to write, my pen moving faster than my thoughts. Private rooms have curtains for privacy; some scenes allow observation. Rope bondage is precise, negotiated, and uses constant check-ins. Sensation play is about exploring contrasts. Negotiation can last longer than the scene itself. Aftercare is present in every room. My notes read more like anthropological observations than a tantalizing exposé. I found myself noting the humanity in each scene rather than the salacious details. The old, cynical part of me was being chipped away, replaced by something new and profound: a deep respect for this communi