Stories Of Submission Novels & Stories

Matteo joined his twin and I was left standing in the middle of the room alone, facing both men. "Do you know what you're getting yourself into?" Rowan asked me. I gulped, shaking my head slowly. I had an idea. "This means you'll be ours, Princess, and no man would be allowed to touch you or even fucking look at you. You do as we say or you get your little ass punished." "You're not going to try to control my life, will you?" Matteo gritted his teeth and looked away, but Rowan answered. "Submission is willingly giving up your control, love. If you don't want us to control us outside the bedroom, it's your call."

The shame somehow made it hotter. “Patience, princess,” He leaned forward slightly, the red light casting shadows across the mask. “Good girls wait for permission. Now rub that swollen clit in slow, pretty circles and tell me exactly how empty you feel without my real cock stretching you open.” My fingers obeyed instantly, tracing torturously slow circles over my throbbing clit. Sparks shot up my spine. “Sir… I feel so fucking empty,” I whimpered, my fingers obediently tracing slow, torturous circles over my throbbing clit.

“You’re not learning. Who’s in charge here?” “But I need it,” she whines. I step closer, pressing my body against her heated skin, my hand sliding between her thighs to feel how soaked she already is. “What you need and what you think you deserve are two different things. You come here chasing pain because it gets you off, but you never actually submit. You want the high without the surrender.” Her hips rock against my fingers despite her words. “I submit when it’s worth it.” I pinch her clit lightly, making her jolt. “You’re disrespectful, sub. What do you call me?”

"Submitting doesn't always mean doing what I say. Sometimes its a mental state, or a physical one." "How so?" "Sometimes, when someone is submitting to me. It means their mind, their body, their heart, their soul is mine. That I control everything. And other times it just means that when we are playing, that is when they are submitting. They follow my rules, do as I say, and when the game is done. Then so is the submission. It's not all the time, and it's not like a slave. No one has the right to do that, and it's illegal."

By sunset, that ache had turned into a throbbing, dripping need. No boyfriend. No rules. Just seven days to be a greedy, horny slut. I grabbed the resort tablet and opened the Concierge app. Private Companions. I selected exactly what I wanted: Male. Very tall. Extremely muscular. Hung like a fucking horse. Expert tongue and stamina. No limits. One night. I hit submit, already soaked. Thirty minutes later, a firm knock sounded at the door. I opened it and felt my pussy clench at the sight of him.

She relaxes and nods back, gesturing for her lawyer to proceed. “Mr. Ren,” he begins. “As you know, you are the editor-in-chief of the Boston Press and its associated branches, among which is the Boston Bulletin. You’re here because you have filed a claim with Miss Bazine Netal, talent coordinator of the Boston Press, alleging that an employee coerced you into performing acts of a sexual nature against your wishes and better judgment. Does that sound correct?” “Yes, it does,” he answers darkly, folding his hands and setting them neatly on the tabletop. He tries to ignore the thin smirk twitching onto Bazine’s otherwise delicate features. She just cannot swallow it down, even when she is tryi

“Hold it. Suffer for your new master.” Tears flowed; I begged incoherently. Dominance peaked: she bit my back, drawing blood, licking it. “Come now—show me your submission.” Orgasm tore through—untouched, cum soaking the seat. She didn’t stop—pounding through, her own release a grunt as she ground against the harness base. She pulled out, zipping up. “That’s your new reality, Marino. Testify, or I make it public—your submissions, all recorded.”

Vanessa’s POV Alfie took a step back, his posture shifting into a submissive stance. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of disbelief wash over me. This was Alfie, the proud and arrogant son of the Alpha King, bowing his head before me. In the world of werewolves, submitting to another was a profound gesture, one that carried weight and significance far beyond the moment itself. It was a sign of respect, acknowledging the authority and dominance of another wolf. For Alfie, the act of submission was a startling departure from his usual demeanor of pride and arrogance, from the way he had belittled me since my eighteenth birthday.

I was dangerously close. My back arched off the bed, two fingers buried deep inside my soaked pussy as I read the filthiest part of the story — the part where the two older men had the girl pinned between them, stretching both her holes while calling her their perfect little whore. “That’s it, baby. Take both our cocks like a good girl.” My thighs started shaking. I was right there… when my mother’s voice suddenly cut through the door. “Serena! Dinner!”

Her pussy gushed all over his pants. The night with the blindfold took her deeper into giving up control. Dante put the harness on tight first. The leather straps bit her skin a bit. It showed her she gave in. Ropes came next. They tied her wrists to ankles in a bent way. It made her back curve and ass point up. Open for him. He put the soft black cloth over her eyes last. All light went away. The world got small to sounds and feels: the floor creak as he walked around her, his even breaths, the whip moving quiet. The first hit came with no sign. Air whooshed, then crack on her ass. Hurt burst fast and mixed up. Lou cried out. Her body turned in the ties. She tried to count out loud. But no