Scold's Bridle Bondage Novels & Stories

And gags, oh god, the gags, the picture of it in my imagination and that of what im seeing looks scary because it’s about to be used on me. A red ball with straps, a metal ring that looks way too big and then some nice looking ropes. They were everywhere from the thick ones to the thin ones all tied up in knots, I don’t even ant to think about it. Blindfold, it looked beautiful like it will sit pretty on me and then a black bondage tape that looks sticky. My eyes moves looking at all of it until it lands on the vibrators. A whole bunch of them. Different shapes and sizes.

A large cage in the centre dominated the room and there was a strange cross as well, enormous and somehow threatening. There was some sort of odd wooden frame erected on one wall and a wooden horse on one side that was cushioned in crimson velvet. And on one side…was that a large paddle??? The room was decorated in rich red brocade hangings, but it was the assortment of whips and strange torture implements that caught my attention. Instruments of bondage. Slowly, the truth dawned on me and I took a step back in horror. BDSM? In Lucien's club?

It was a deluxe bondage set, complete with restraints, blindfolds, and other accessories designed to heighten pleasure and intensify sensation. Without hesitation, I made my purchase and hurried back to my car, the box tucked securely under my arm. Driving home, my thoughts turned to Sean again, and the roleplay scenario I had planned for us. It was a bold move, and he’d never see it coming.

Woman gets punished for her pleasure. I get punished for my pleasure too, but you have to flip the logic of that sentence to appreciate my meaning. An hour before the shower, he’d trussed up my tits in a rope harness, making them balloon and flush. He’d fixed clamps to my nipples, tied my wrists to the head- board and, around my eyes, he’d wrapped a navy-blue, polka-dot scarf which my friend Maggie had given me as a thank-you gift after I’d fed her cat while she was holidaying in the Netherlands. I’d never liked that scarf. Sorry Maggie. We use it for bondage now.

Bondage is used for a sort of praise to go together with the intercourse, making the orgasm journey all of the extra extremes. He stored me gagged and tethered, on my knees, making me wait in worry whilst I watched. I whimpered and shivered while he stuck me with a hand in my hair and dragged me to the desk. His contact became brutal while he launched the chain, speedy tugging off my halter and skirt, then lifting me without problems, forcing me on my palms and knees, bent over a bar that he chained to the desk.

My breath caught in my throat at what I saw inside. A full BDSM kit filled the drawer. Black leather hand cuffs, a black spiky leather collar with a ring, a thick leather paddle, a soft flogger with multiple tails, a red blindfold, a ball gag, nipple clamps with delicate chains, breast suction plugs, several lengths of soft black rope, a butt plug, a black vibrator, and a small bottle of lube. My eyes widened at the sight. Professor Charlie noticed my reaction. He stretched his hand and picked up the leather collar, allowing it to dangle from his fingers.

I screeched, fear slowly claws its way in. He brings out a box, opens it and my jaw drops at it's content. A box filled with all kinds of BDSM materials. A mouth gag, a whip, fluffy red handcuffs, a collar chain, and a bunch of other things I couldn't name. He exchanged the belt with the cuffs, spreading my arms and cuffing each one of them to both sides of the bed. “Choose the one you would prefer I use as your punishment,” He said, his eyes dark and intimidating.

Braided riding crops hung from heavy metal rings. A polished steel cross stood in the far corner. Glass display cases held velvet blindfolds and silicone gags. Silver handcuffs hung from steel hooks. The polished metal caught the overhead light. My skin went cold. The hairs on my arms stood up. My mind flashed back to last night. The leather belt around my neck. The ease in his large hands. The way he tightened the leather just enough to make my pulse pound in my ears. He knew his way around these tools. He was a man with a dominant streak. This was his entire world.

Brady snatched the small spray bottle from beside his camera and bent over his model. “This stuff looks so good, so real, but it dries so fast,” he said. The spray bottle honked loudly before the chill of the water droplets bit at Sidney’s skin through the blood. She contracted against the cold, flexing her muscles to hold the pose. She did not want to endure Brady’s exasperation at having to align her again, and she did not want to tug her skin into bruises as it peeled away from the dried blood, like last time. She hissed through pursed lips and lay frozen until the water began to loosen her syrup bondage.

"Maybe we've been living the sex lives we were meant to have." They had one more week in the experiment. Then they'd decide. That night, Scott pulled a coil of soft black rope from the nightstand drawer, letting it slide through his fingers like liquid. "I want to try something. If you're comfortable." Liv's pulse jumped. Over the past weeks she'd discovered she loved bondage, the trust it demanded, the exquisite surrender it allowed. "Yes." He bound her wrists together, then to the headboard, the knots firm but padded. Next came her ankles, spread wide, secured to the footboard so she was open, exposed, helpless. He added the blindfold last, silk cool against her eyelids, plunging her into