Mistress Novels & Stories

"You think posting something online can force your way into our lives? Keep dreaming. A piece of trash like you isn't even worthy of carrying my shoes. You're only fit to crawl under a bridge and find a homeless man!" Her filthy insults came one after another, each one testing the limits of my patience. I genuinely began to wonder if there had been some kind of mistake. How could this possibly be the girl Nathaniel had described? I took a deep breath, suppressed the anger rising in my chest, and spoke coldly. "Listen carefully. I'm not a mistress. I'm Nathaniel's mother. In other words, I'm the biological mother of the fiancé you're talking about."

Eren sat with his back straight, legs parted slightly, collar gleaming beneath the red light. Liane remained still on all fours, her hair pulled into a tight braid Mistress had done herself, lips swollen from earlier use. None of them spoke. Not without permission. Mistress turned, her presence filling the room like heat. “Tonight,” she said, dragging her fingers slowly along the edge of her crop, “you will serve me as one.” Her eyes scanned them like prey she’d already gutted. “No jealousy. No selfishness. I own all of you. And you will give yourselves for nothing more than the sound of my moans.”

“It feels more like a massage.” Nadine stepped back, her breath uneven, her face wet with tears. He only watched her, taking slow, deliberate steps forward. “You think you can run from me?” “I beg you, Sir… I only work here. Please, let me go…” she cried, pleading. Justine’s eyes hardened. “You’ll regret this,” he said flatly before seizing her wrist roughly. He pulled her close, trapping her small frame in his arms. “You know,” he whispered coldly, “many women dream of sharing a bed with me. But you… you’re not even my type. You’re too thin — your chest almost flat.”

She reached forward slowly, like the papers might bite her. The weight was wrong. Too heavy. Expensive stock—the kind used for important legal contracts. The header at the top was in bold: MISTRESS AGREEMENT The air left her lungs. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Trying to make the words say something else. They didn't change. Mistress. Not companion. Not assistant. Not any polite euphemism. Just that word, stark and brutal. Her throat closed. This Agreement is entered into between Damian Cross (hereinafter "Provider") and Aria Hale (hereinafter "Kept Party") for the purpose of establishing terms of exclusive arrangemen

Tristan tried to explain. My eyes held his eyes, “What is the case then?” “Do you know what it means to take a mistress?” Tristan took a step closer but still left a small gap between us as his eyes didn’t break contact with mine. I shook my head as my eyes still locked with his, “Taking a mistress means you are done with your wife and that mistress is the one you truly love.” “What do you know about mistresses!” I scoffed and broke eye contact. “What do I know? Can’t you see you are a love child?” A smirk played on Tristan’s face.

The next strike of the whip makes her gasp and reply him. "Punish me! " She says. Jaxon whips her again and that sends the message that she is to address him as "master". "Punish me, master." Jaxon gets more aroused as he hears her call him master and moan to the whipping. "Look, you're wet for me." His finger goes into her and strokes her. Roxanne keeps moaning inaudible words. Just when she was close, he slides out his fingers. "Please,Master, fuck me!" She cries.

"No, I'm..." Mr. Hawthorne laughed widely, growing fear in Jasmine's eyes. "Don't be so surprised, Miss Everhart. I was just about to start." Jasmine understood the meaning of a mistress, a connotation that referred to a relationship outside of marriage and was considered unethical. Right now she was being degraded, while the man standing before her seemed perfectly content with that ghastly laughter.

she coos, "They are going to be sore for a while; you're going to need to suck it up." I feel fingers sliding into me while Mistress walks behind us, so I know they are Masters. He doesn't want any other pussy, my ass. I knew it was too good to be true. This is the first time that Mistress has earned my distrust, but there isn't anything I can do. The contract says they both own me. It does not say she won't let anybody else fuck me, I just took her word for it. ~~~~~~~~

I said, my head high up in the clouds. "What exactly is a mistress?" With another smack, she enquired. "Mistress Ava," I replied, scarcely recognizing myself. "For what?" She asked, slapping me again. She is always like this, asking questions she knows and expecting an answer from me while fucking me. "Thank you for fucking my tight pussy with that massive black dick.. ahh.. thank you," I panted as she rode me. "Ahh.. yes.. ah.. fuck yeah.. oh yeah," I screamed continually.

“What’s the matter? Why are you a bit aggressive today?” She didn’t like that side of him. It was darker. No woman would like bad boys, but if he can bring heaven to her, she’d like to accept it. Stacy never desired to hook up with someone like Zach, her longtime crush since high school, but the temptation couldn’t be resisted. She still gave up with her higher standards, looking down at her past self, breaking the promise she’ll not go near Zach again. Stacy found herself ridiculous, sometimes. She waited for a long time only to be a mistress. She was a fool in love, that only one tap in a shoulder… she sacrificed her body to make love.