Owner Kink Novels & Stories

I could hardly believe that Colin—my straight-laced, old-fashioned husband of more than a decade—had such a twisted fetish. I remembered when we once stumbled across a post about this kind of kink online. Colin's face had been full of disgust. He'd even said those people were sick. But when I scrolled to the woman's post from a month ago, she had written gleefully, 'The aloof, mature man I've been chasing finally agreed to be my puppy! Guys, tell me I'm not dreaming!'

“That’s a very vivid picture. Thank you for sharing it so openly.” I exhaled, trembling a little. He leaned back slightly, tone shifting to something more exploratory. “Apart from this mommy-domme dynamic, this intense power exchange… have you ever explored other kinks? Tried anything else that lights you up the same way?” I blinked. “Like… what?” He gave a small, professional shrug. “Bondage, impact play, role reversal, exhibitionism, voyeurism, sensory deprivation, pet play, degradation, praise, group play… anything that’s ever crossed your mind, even if you haven’t acted on it.”

I sit up straighter and shrug off my blankets. “How close did you get to your last girlfriend? I recall she had some kink, what was it again? I can’t seem to…”. “You freaking bastard, I didn’t do any of that shi…”. “Ah! A piss kink was it? Well, I’m not one to kinkshame, it’s a good thing I don’t bring up the past right, Sakura?”. I smile brightly at her. She has to know I’m a kind and understanding friend.

Kinks: bdsm, female dom, male sub, powerplay, rough sex The office door clicks shut behind him, sealing us in my private therapy room. Dim lights cast shadows over the leather couch and the sturdy restraint bench in the corner. He's my patient, that eager 28-year-old with wide eyes and a body begging for control. I stand tall in my black leather corset and thigh-high boots, my curves hugged tight, feeling the power surge through me, expert in breaking men like him. He sits on the edge of the couch, fidgeting, his shirt already unbuttoned from our 'session talk' about his submission cravings.

And that is how locker s*x turned into angry s*x. “Ah Kyler ! Fuck !!” I spoke through gritted teeth when Kyler suddenly pinched and twisted my n*pples pleasurably hard and went King Kong with his Big Gong inside my tight chute. I did not know which was more arousing- his dirty talk or watching his thick pink sausage thrust in an out of my squelching hole in front of the locker room’s long mirror. Grrrrr. Oh shit ! I just realized that I was into and had a major kink for it, coz it did not take long before I was disobeying my furious mate and creaming all over his joystick just because of it.

He let the word hang, his eyes dragging down her body, clad in a simple tank top and jeans. “Or what?” Kelsey asked, her heart hammering against her ribs. The blond, whose name tag read ‘Carter’, stepped forward. His voice dropped, a rough whisper meant for her alone. “Or you service the house. All of us. Every brother. Mouth, pussy, ass. You take all our cocks, rough and raw, and you don’t say stop. You do that, you’re one of us. No paddle. Your choice.”

He would never find an omega attractive. "Who is the owner of this place?" "Alpha Killian Cabello of the Moonshadow Pack." He was arrogant and wanted to defile the rules, just to show me that he could do whatever he wanted. Rich men were always bag of jerks. Seriously, I wonder if they have a special class for that. He took a card from his inner pocket and handed it to me. "I usually don't give out my card to the likes of you, but look at it."

"Anyway, I should get back to work. Thanks for your help, John." John gave her a reassuring smile. "No problem. Let me know if you need anything." As Sarah turned back to her computer, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. She had a feeling that her encounter with the owner was just the beginning of something much more complicated. The rest of her shift passed by in a blur of check-ins, room assignments, and guest complaints. She tried her best to focus on her work, but her mind kept drifting back to the owner. Who was he, really? And why had he taken such an interest in her?

Like I was his. He led me into a jewelry store and selected a pair of diamond cuff bracelets. "These will mark you as mine," he said, sliding them onto my wrists. "Anyone who sees them will know you're owned." The bracelets were beautiful, but they also felt like shackles—a visual representation of my 24-hour ownership. In the afternoon, he led me to a private club I'd never heard of before. When we arrived, I realized it was a kink club—hidden, discreet, accessed by membership only.

Whatever he’s saying has her laughing and then looking down into the crowd of dancers. “Looks like your bro is moving in on your territory, man.” I glance over and see Gabe facing the bar with his forearms leaning against the edge. I smirk, “Nah, that was this morning when we both fucked her senseless for her birthday present.” Our neighbor’s jaw drops, “No fucking way...seriously?” “You’re wanting to get into the kink lifestyle, right?” “Well, yeah, I guess.” “Here’s a second piece of advice for you, Gabe; never be surprised by anything when it comes to this lifestyle. Believe it or not it’s quite common.”