Hardcore Bdsm Punishment Novels & Stories

I exclaimed, already imagining him tied up in chains while his boyfriend whips him. “How much do you know about it?” He asked. “Well, I have watched some videos on the internet and read a few things. I mean, who has never heard of bdsm these days?” I replied, trying to remember what I exactly saw. “I know it involves a lot of leather, whips, bondage and pain. Oh my goodness, are you into that? Is Grayson dominant? Like, does he tie you up and whip you and fuc..” Ahhh, just keep quiet, Jasper.” He whisper-yelled at me, quickly glancing back towards the open door.

“Keep sassing me, and I’ll have to punish this naughty little pussy again...” Jenna moaned needily at the threat even as she wiggled her hips up to meet his thrusts eagerly. “Promises, promises,” she taunted breathlessly. Dean smirked wickedly at her brazen challenge, his free hand sliding down to grip her throat possessively, after which he carried her to his secret BDSM room for the proper little punishment. “Oh, I’ll give you all the punishment you can handle,” he vowed darkly. “Just remember who’s in charge here.” He punctuated his point with a sharp smack to her ass that made her yelp.

“What?” “I need you to know something,” he repeated, his gaze running over me once more before he fixed his eyes on mine. “What is it?” “I love rough sex.” “Huh?” “You know what BDSM is, don't you? I like hardcore sex, one that will leave your body in pain, but your soul sated. That's the sex I like.” My heart stilled once more. I'd heard about this from the girls in the bar, but I had met no one who had spoken about it.

He pulled out suddenly and disappointment was all over my face at once James got up, opened a drawer and pulled out his BDSM kit. Cuffs, leather straps, blindfold, paddle, and a thick vibrator. “Second round. You ready?” I nodded fast, pussy already clenching at the sight. He cuffed my wrists tight behind my back. The blindfold went on, total darkness. He pushed me onto all fours. The paddle cracked across my ass. Sharp hot sting. I moaned loud, “Mmmph… oh fuck…”

He made her straddle him backward as she sat on his long, thick cock, while he sat with his thighs spread on the couch. His hands were hooked behind her knees, forcing her legs up and wide open, suspending her in midair. He kept drawing guttural cries from her throat every time he dragged himself out just to thrust deeper again. And that wasn't the worst part. Another man stood in front of them, slamming his whole length into her pussy with brutal thrusts. These men didn't just fuck. They punished. They slammed into both holes without mercy.

Before Skylar could understand what was going on, he walked away from her again and opened a tiny drawer from the side of his bed and pulled out a horse whip. The first blows of the whip landed on her back softly. Alpha Waddell was well-trained too. From the way he handled the whip, to how the strokes landed on her bent bark, he was well trained and acquainted with sexual torture and BDSM. A long hard beating was always prefaced by a gentle one to desensitize the skin. Breathing in and out slowly, she let the pain wash over her as she’d been trained to do. The pressure intensified, the pain grew.

For the first time, it dawned on me that they had been talking about something else all this time. "BDSM is someone?" I asked, my words sounding barely audible. The others quickly averted their gaze from me, and I wasn't feeling comfortable anymore. "No, the fuck. BDSM is sex. Hardcore sex that deals with pleasure and pain. It fully stands for bondage, discipline, or domination—sadism and masochism." My lips dropped open, shock evident on my face, eyes widening with shock, cheeks burning red as I stared at Syra. Her face looked serious—she wasn't joking.

"Not done yet. Gonna keep you tied and fucked all day." Hours blur— he rebinds me in new positions: on my side, one leg hitched high; doggy with arms pinned behind; even suspended slightly from the headboard for standing fucks. Each time, BDSM amps it: wax drips on my skin (he melts a candle, hot trails on thighs and tits), ice cubes trailed over clamps, vibrator pressed to my clit while he takes my ass. Paddling between rounds, spanking until I'm sobbing, then soothing with his mouth.

He just stood between my spread thighs, stroked his cock once, thick, angry red, veins standing out, still slick from my cunt and his cum, and drove straight into my pussy so hard my spine left the leather. One brutal thrust that punched the air from my lungs. Churner position, BDSM edition. He hooked his arms under my knees, used the chains as leverage, and started churning, hips rolling deep, grinding against my clit on every down stroke, cockhead battering my cervix on every up stroke. The angle was obscene, my ass lifted completely off the ottoman, pussy stretched wide around his girth, breasts bouncing violently with every slam. I screamed, raw and feral, and he laughed, dark and filthy

“Fuck, Lucian, I’m yours daddy.” The room filled with our moans and the slap of skin on skin. I spanked him, my hand sharp against his ass, and he moaned, his voice breaking. I fucked him harder, the BDSM tools around us a testament to his punishment, his surrender, and our fucked-up love.