Married Femdom Stories Novels & Stories

“God, you feel so fucking good.” Tom leaned down, gripping my jaw. “Look at you, you've been craving so bad for this, to be used and owned and dominated. Haven't you?" I nodded, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as Jordan thrust in and out. Tom grabbed my breasts and squeezed hard. "Yeah that's right, don’t forget who you’re doing this for.” “I haven’t,” I breathed, overwhelmed by the stretch, the heat, the two of them watching and touching.

She brought both breasts back to my penis and wet them again, and brought them back to my mouth. The next moment, she straddled me again, and checked my bondage's for tightness. I could definitely not move my hands or my legs. "Do you know what I read recently?" "No, what?" "I read a story that you posted online. It was called 'I want you to feed me'." I stared blankly,I'd forgotten that she read my sex stories online, sometimes, especially this one. "Uhhh yes well..." "Do you remember writing the story, do you remember what it was about?" As she questioned me, she was humping her open pûssy over the head and shaft of my cock.

She kneels with an enticing blend of vulnerability and strength, each curve of her body poised to invite. With an alluring gaze that radiates both confidence and anticipation, she waits for my commands, embodying the thrill of the moment. If only she realized that tonight, I seek merely to blow off steam and escape the haunting memories of Shelly, even if just for a fleeting night. This is precisely why I cannot bring Shelly into this world of shadows with me. I am a Dom—a dominant partner in the intricate dance of BDSM, where power exchange is not just a game, but a carefully crafted experience. The Dom takes charge, guiding the actions within this realm, always ensuring safety and consent.

I am Hemanth, a 19-year-old Indian boy, living with my parents in a quiet suburban neighborhood. I had always been a shy, introverted kid, but lately, I had developed a fascination with BDSM and pegging. I spent hours online, watching videos and reading stories about dominant women using strap-ons to fuck their submissive male partners. The idea of being dominated, edged, and tortured by a powerful milf consumed my thoughts.

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.

The top was slit down showing a lot of cleavage and was clingy, showing off my big, stiff nipples. "If it's not prying too much, might I ask how you started this relationship with your husband." "Of course. I tend to read these naughty romances. Lately, I became interested in the type in which someone is enslaved and made to serve dominant men or women. My husband became intrigued by my fascination with these types of stories. He asked if I'd like to experience it for myself, and the rest is history, as they say." "So, your husband became your dominant, and you have to do as he says?"

He was currently knee-deep in building a luxury resort and knowing him, it was going to be one of the most exclusive places around. I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ll regret that eventually, trust me. Look, these women all pretend to be cool with the whole Dom/Sub thing, and I pay them well—very well, even while we’re married. Thank God we've got airtight agreements, written and signed. If it weren’t for those, I would probably be serving time by now.”

On the sofa, the submissive's owner had her skirt hiked up and she was pleasuring herself while she watched her pet being used by these two strangers. Henry's tempo increased until finally, he pulled out, blasting a load all over the man's face. 'The man can cum like a fire hose,' Shamira thought, watching line after line of semen splatter on the young man's cheeks, nose, and mouth. She watched the domme stand up, walk over, look disapprovingly at her charge, and then slap him sharply across the face. She wiped Henry's goo off of her slave's face and then fed it to him, making sure he licked her latex gloves clean.

I sighed. “Our? So you… you are into all that? Are you also of the same mind as your wolf on sleeping with random females?” Crista’s body stiffened as she moved slightly away from me. I sighed, running a hand over my face. “No. While yes, I will admit I like BDSM. I like the structure and control a dom/sub relationship offers. I have only been an active participant in the encounters that involved the twins' mother. Being with anyone that wasn’t her or my mate disgusts me.” I explained.

The praise after you complete it is gonna taste so good. KITTEN_HEELS: Honestly, mine just put me in the corner for ten minutes because I rolled my eyes at dinner. It’s the worst but god, the absolute relief of just letting him call the shots after a stressful week at my corporate job? Unmatched. I sat up, resting my back against the headboard, my eyes wide as I scrolled. It was exactly what I had read in the library, but seeing it spoken about so casually, so warmly, made it real. These women weren't victims; they were completely obsessed with their Doms. They craved that structure. They craved the exact boundary-pushing authority that I had felt vibrating off Damian at the dining table.