Kink Life Novels & Stories

Tony always knew how to handle me well and I guess that's why we managed to date for so long. Typing the URL, it loaded immediately and I clicked on the first video I laid my eyes on. The sound of a woman moaning loudly echoed through the living room of my house as her fingers rubbed her pussy. Seeing her like that had me wet in an instant. I sat well in bed ready for a self service session. I deserved it. I was a sex kink and any sex video, be it a lesbian video, a gay video or even straight as long as there were Ds and Vs, always got me off.

She says bluntly. "Well, I was not knowing what it was at that time." "Ok well listen we all enjoy different kinks in our sex life. One of them is knife kink, which I and Tom enjoy..." "What do you do in that?" Now I was curious. "Well just tear clothes with the knife, drag it here and there, some people even mark each other with it." She says it casually like this is the usual morning news. "Well, that explains your need for more clothes. Is he not patient with you that he has to rip it off of you."

I'd flinched, not really liking how it had made me sound that I was so delicate because I was a human. And that's what had pushed me into getting familiar with my kelpie and seeing what it could do. I didn't just control one, but as many that could form from the body of water that it was rising from. Plus, it kept me busy and away from the disaster of what was going on around me. More than once, I had considered cutting off the engagement with Quill. He wouldn't have to deal with Mason, and I could deal with him alone. But every time I talked myself into doing it, I also talked myself out of doing it.

I’d rather not spend the rest of my life wondering how many children I’d fathered if I stopped using protection. She moaned and said, “Yes, Sir.” I grasped my cock and pumped it a few times before plugging it into her pussy. She screamed as I sank further into her. “Fuck you’re wet,” I exclaimed. She elevated her bottom to seek deeper access, and I tightened my grip on her hip, yanking her closer to me. As I began my back-and-forth motion, her moans filled the office. Anyone on the floor could hear her because the door was wide open. I didn’t mind that everyone knew about my exploits, but for her, it was all about her kink.

She wanted to be chased, caught, and used roughly, but only by someone she trusted to stop if she needed them to. One lonely night, after too much wine and too much scrolling, she downloaded an app called VelvetKink. It was a discreet, anonymous app for people with extreme or taboo kinks. Profiles were faceless unless you chose to show them. People matched based on shared fantasies rather than looks. Elena made a profile. She was honest in the kink section. Kinks: CNC (Consensual Non-Consent), kidnapping, rough sex, being overpowered, degradation + praise, being used, forced orgasms, being claimed/possessed.

My family would have been humiliated. So I married him knowing he would never really want me. Never really satisfy me. Never give me what I needed in bed. And I decided right then that I wouldn't settle for a sexless marriage just because my husband preferred dick. The mechanic doesn't know about the neighbor's brother. The neighbor's brother doesn't know about the mechanic. My husband doesn't know about either of them. And I'm keeping it that way. Because this arrangement works. I get the hard rough sex I crave. I get variety. I get to explore every kink and desire my body has without judgment or hesitation.

“Sure do. Every three months if I’m out there and active. I know everyone thinks my life is this nonstop fuckfest because I show the slightest interest in sex and one-night stands, but I haven’t gotten any since that damn cruise last year. I passed the last exam with flying colors. How about you?” “Regular checks, just got out of a long-term relationship.” I didn’t mention that those “regular checks” were a requirement for membership at my kink resort. Even the most free-spirited of free spirits were sometimes put off by the mention of anything harder than handcuffs. This would be a straightforward, well, fuckfest, to use her words. “I use condoms during intercourse, that’s nonnegotiable.” “

I'd done some research on it and I found out I had a breeding kink. I had a lot of kinks I didn't know about and I was certain I was going to find more. It was all because of them. They were helping me embrace myself. I loved it.

I wanted to speak again, but my words got stuck in my throat. “Lucian had always struggled with having sex like a normal man, Cassandra. He’s different, and he can’t show this side to anyone except me, because I am the only woman that has ever understood him.” She explained further, though I was still trying to make sense out of what she was saying. “What do you mean by he is different? What is his kink?” I inquired, trying so hard to keep my cool. “He is a masochist. He derives pleasure from pain. He is submissive and I am a dominant woman. He tried having sex the normal way, but it never worked out for him.”

They collapsed onto the bed, a heap of spent, trembling muscle. I sat there on the floor, the heavy heat of the "special tea" finally fading, replaced by a cold, sharp clarity. I had wanted a slut kink. I had wanted to be ruined. I had wanted the forbidden. And I had gotten it. I had destroyed my relationship, fractured my family, and turned my stepbrothers into my addicts. I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror—covered in the evidence of my "variety," my eyes dark and hollow.