Gun Play Kink Novels & Stories

Made me feel like a fucking god. With a feral roar I slam balls-deep in one brutal stroke, her tight walls stretching around me as she screams. I don’t give her a second to adjust. I pound her like a jackhammer, my heavy balls slapping her swollen clit with every thrust while the desk groans and splinters beneath us. I fist her hair and yank her head back, arching her neck. "Choke on it, you crying slut! Cum on your brother's dick. squirt like the pathetic mess you are!"

Couldn't stop seeing his face when he'd said"this one is dangerous" A minute passed. Five. Ten. Then she heard it. Footsteps on gravel. A door opening somewhere in the dark. Muffled voices— too low to make out the words. Then a pause. And Three gunshots. She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Silence. Minutes that felt like hours. Then the driver's door opened. He slid into the seat. His hands were steady. His face was unreadable. But there was fresh blood on his shirt— not his, she could tell now, the way he moved, no wince— and his knuckles were raw.

I sent anonymous videos of me playing with myself with a vibrator to my deskmate just for the thrill of it. I loved the thrill that came with carrying out forbidden, socially unacceptable acts like these—especially more so when he was frantically seeking out my identity. The lower I sank, the greater the thrill. … Late at night, I lay spread out in bed, panting loudly as my body trembled like jelly. I stayed like that until the waves of pleasure finally calmed down, allowing me to relax the muscles in my back.

“You’re going to tell me exactly who paid you to take my wife.” Silence. The thicker man even dared a smirk. Lucas smiled back, and it was terrifying. “I enjoy enthusiasm. But stubbornness? That’s a real asset. Helps me test the new equipment.” He tapped a section of the wall. A sleek panel slid open, revealing a hidden arsenal, surgical steel, electrics, and restraints designed for maximum pain with minimum damage. Tools of persuasion. He selected several and set them down with a quiet, deliberate click. “Let’s start simple,” he said pleasantly. “Fingers or teeth?”

Survival was more than just pulling a trigger; it meant knowing when to pull it, who to aim at, and making sure they never got back up. Traitors hid behind expensive suits and fake smiles, knives ready to strike my back. But they forgot one thing: I played by the rules until someone played me dirty. And when they did, the retribution I served was tenfold. No one played me for a fool and lived. The cigarette had burned down to the filter. I crushed it into the ashtray, grinding it until the ember died. The tray wobbled on the edge of the table. My hand shot out to steady it, but the booze in my system dulled my reflexes. It tipped over, shattering into a thousand glinting shards.

“You’re clenching around it already, princess. Such a greedy little cumslut. So fucking wet already?” I teased her slick entrance with the tip of the gun, not fully penetrating but letting her feel the cold, lethal danger pressed so intimately against her most vulnerable spot. Instead of pulling away, she arched hard into it, a needy, broken whine escaping her lips that sent fire racing down my spine. "That's it. Soak my fucking gun like dirty little slut you are" I growled, pressing against her firmly.

Mafia men and their massive egos. “You think I can’t?” He spat, standing up and walking closer to me. As soon as he was within arms reach, I turned off the light, grabbed his arm and twisted his wrist. I heard the gun drop to the ground. I located it with my foot and pushed it backwards. I twisted his entire arm to his back and kicked him. As soon as I heard the loud thud, I turned the lights back on, brighter ones this time and saw the man groaning in pain on the ground. Bending down to pick the gun, I checked for bullets and sure enough, it was loaded. “Thanks for the gift.” I say, waving the gun at him before stuffing it in my purse.

The cold metal of the gun inside my mouth. I had imagined I would start crying, lock up with fear, and utter the safe word. But I didn’t do any of those things because Hayden was looking at me when he made me gag on a gun whose trigger was brushing over his index finger. “Open wider, come on, I know you can do better, Princess.” He encouraged me, reminding me to breathe when I kept rubbing myself, juices gushing out of me as Hayden kept exploring and playing with my limits. The metal felt sturdy and hard against my teeth, my tongue trying to lap against it as I whimpered and groaned around it, moving my hips as if to want more.

In a painfully slow movement, he brought his hand up my thigh to the lining of my already moist panties. “You’re lying” he growled into my ear, biting on it. “No” I breathed. He pulled my panties to the side and gently slid a finger over my wet lips. “I could smell your desire” he said as he plunged his fingers deep inside my pussy. I gasped and threw my head back. He moved his fingers in and out, pressing deep inside my core. I cried out as he rolled his thumb over my clit. “Do you want him?” Gunner rumbled, moving his fingers faster.

It pressed, squeezed, and molded them into something nice. The lady shuddered beneath him, her hole dripping already, and she shook her head, trying to suppress the moan that wanted to escape from her mouth. Zayn curled his lips sexily and removed his fingers, slapping her ass cheek! " Don't try to suppress it. Let the Alpha know you are enjoying it." Then, he licked the juice, that was decorating his fingers and rubbed it on the lady's ass. " Let's get to the final show!" He unbuckled his pant and freed his dangerous fire gun that was already erected, looking strong and mighty! He took some water from the stream and poured it on his shaft, for easy penetration.