Starvation Kink Novels & Stories

I was preparing the food and was so happy because I felt different like a woman. Kathrine's father never cared if I was dying of sex or not. The truth is that I have been starved, I also suspect that his going out all the time is not genuine. There must be something fishy. When I served us a meal, I allowed him to eat before I raised the matter. "My dear, why haven't you touched me for years? Don't you know that you have starved me so much? If it continues like this, then I will have to find a means to satisfy myself just like you"

Content Warning: Pornographic content. 18+ Full penetration. Filthy dominance. Breeding kink. Spit. Choking. Hair pulling. Deep emotional obsession She lowered slowly. The moment her pussy touched his tongue, she screamed. His arms locked around her thighs. He pulled her down. And devoured her from below like he’d been waiting forever. She grinded. She couldn’t help it. His mouth was fucking perfect. Tongue circling her clit. Lips sucking her like a man starving.

He backed up until his shoulder hit the cold glass wall of the office, leaning into it entirely just to keep himself from collapsing again. He watched her eat. It was the most gruesome form of psychological torture. She cut the garlic prawns with surgical precision. She ate the saffron rice slowly, savoring every bite. Every time she lifted the silver fork to her lips, Aryan’s empty stomach convulsed violently. The hunger was a living parasite inside him, clawing desperately at his ribs, begging for just a single grain of rice. He was over thirty hours deep into absolute starvation, and his brain was starting to severely misfire. He vaguely wondered if he begged, truly begged, would she give

It ruthlessly pounded on my core—locked tight with layers of padlocks for ten years—begging for it to be opened right this instant. Beneath the quilt, without realizing it, I pulled my pure white mourning robes up over my thighs and stripped off my thin cotton shifts. Twisting my two legs, I thrashed, feeling the sticky sweet moisture continuously flowing down my inner thighs. The pillowcase grew thoroughly soaked with hot tears and sweat. ‘You're mad, In-hwa. You're truly out of your mind.’ ‘Are you truly losing your mind from starvation for a man's feral heat...!’ Loathing myself as worse than a beast, I pinched my wet thighs until they bruised purple and bit my lips.

Readers should be aware of explicit sexual content, intense BDSM themes with a focus on power imbalance, graphic depictions of physical and psychological domination, extreme kink practices including bondage, cock torture, edging, sounding, electro-stimulation, fisting, watersports, double penetration, nipple clamping, ball busting, and deep throat training, strong verbal degradation and humiliation, potential triggers related to authority figures and forced submission in a fantasy context, public exposure risks, sensory overload from sweat and bodily fluids, emotional distress from forbidden dynamics, and the presence of prolonged overstimulation and post-orgasm continuation, all of which ma

He just… does it. The dots appeared instantly. Levi: That’s called breeding kink, babe. Wake up. Older men love to claim like that. He probably wants to see you knocked up. My stomach dropped. I stared at the words too long, chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. Breeding kink. The term made my thighs press together, heat flashing low, shamefully. Because if I was honest? A small, dark part of me had felt it. That thrill when he growled about me being his. That shiver when he told me he wanted me sore for days. That whisper of “mine” that made me melt even as it scared me.

She moved closer again and this time when she touched my chest I was too slow to move away, and I felt her cold fingers trailing down my skin making my wolf recoil in disgust. "I've been thinking about why you won't touch me," she said quietly, like she was sharing some intimate secret. "About why you won't mark me or make love to me or even look at me the way a husband should look at his wife. And I realized something. I have this feeling, this kink I guess you could call it, where I need someone watching me while I'm in pleasure. It makes everything more exciting, more intense. And I think maybe the reason you can't perform is because we're always alone, because there's no one there to wit

A Dark Fantasy Romance Unholy Hunger ✦ Some loves are not forbidden by men. They are forbidden by gods. •••••• × •••••• × •••••• × •••••• × •••••• × •••••• × •••••• Before Time Learned to Count •••••• × •••••• × •••••• × •••••• × •••••• × •••••• × ••••••

I wanted to run my tongue along his cock, tracing his satin-covered erection, and make him groan with abandon. That was my kink. My own secret. I went crazy and uncontrollably dirty for men like Kelvin. Kelvin carefully backed out from behind the set, standing up with a lopsided grin. His dark blond hair was mussed, and he looked sexier than ever to me. I couldn’t hold myself back.

He’s choking me. Instead of hating it, hating him for it, I fucking love it. Well, god created me and gave me breath, but he’s choking it out of me, and like a slut, I enjoy it. I enjoy being choked. That’s a new kink. His fingers slip unstoppably through my face and lips as he pounds his cock through my palms. “Yes, little flame…” He whispers against my lips. Our lips are nearly touching. He slips out his tongue, gliding it through the air near my lips.