Submissive Books Novels & Stories

For years, Cynthia Cohen would have said that a perfect evening was one spent reading a book on the couch in her living room, her long red hair twisted into a bun and secured with chopsticks, her feet toasty in fuzzy slippers and her curves disguised by baggy pyjamas. But then she had met Richard, and Richard had helped her to see that an even more perfect evening included being naked and sweaty, her hands bound. On her knees. Just the thought of their nights spent together in such a fashion made Cynthia’s throat tight and her chest hot, the aching space between her thighs clenching uncomfortably. As her lover, Richard had helped her to see herself as more than the quiet bookworm she had alw

“I just want you to be sure; we don’t have to rush anything. I am content just to have you here with me, in my arms, in my bed, in my life…” “Will you submit to me?” I almost whispered, staring him down. His breath quickened, but he wrapped his arms around my waist and stared back, tilting his head to the side. I found myself licking my lips slowly as I leaned forward towards the exposed flesh of his neck and shoulder. I kissed just below his jaw line, listening to his rapid breathing as I trailed more kisses down to his collar bone. A soft sigh as I move my lips to his shoulder. His body becoming rigid as my mouth worked back towards his neck. I stopped when I hit a spot that made him suck

But inside, my mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other. What if he means in bed? What if he is thinking the same dirty things I am? I have read those books, the ones with dominant men and submissive women, tied up, spanked, ordered around until they beg to cum. It turns me on so much and makes my pussy soak my panties when I read them late at night, my vibrator buzzing against my clit as I imagine submitting. But I have never told anyone, not even Mark, my closest friend, my pussy tingled at the thought now, a real ache starting, and I shifted in my seat, feeling the dampness in my panties already, the fabric sticking slightly to my folds.

He slid the book across the desk toward me. “Read.” I glanced down. The title was unfamiliar. But the image on the cover made my throat dry. A woman on her knees, blindfolded, arms behind her back. Submission. Captivity. Pleasure. “I—what is this?” “A test.” I hesitated, then opened the book. I started reading. It was graphic from the start. No gentle build-up. Just hot skin, whispered commands, legs spread, lips parted, wet tongues, whimpers, begging. The words tasted strange in my mouth. Heavy. Vulgar. But I read them anyway.

I ask her. She nods. “Say it honey, I need you to say it with your mouth” I tell her. “Yes, Mistress,” she says firmly. “I'm here to be your submissive.” “And what is a submissive??” I drawl. “A submissive is an owned girl, property of a dominant,” she replies. “Good girl,” I smirk. “Now, what does a submissive do?” “To serve their masters or mistress,” she replies with no hesitation. “Good girl!” Then I touch her ass softly, causing her to inhale sharply as my nails scratch her skin.

(WARNING) This work contains graphic, consensual non-vanilla sex including group sex (fivesome), choking, whipping, praise kink, and light dominance/submission. If any of these themes are triggering or upsetting to you, please do not read. No exceptions so please turn back now. To my sweet, filthy and smutty readers— the one who aches to be called a good girl while four strong hands claim every inch of you… This book is yours. Let them praise you, ruin you, and worship you exactly the way you crave.

Naya Hart If you just finished reading this, let's say a prayer together. Oh Lord, forgive me for I have sinned. 🙏🏽 And honestly? I am not even sorry. If you made it all the way to the end of Forbidden Desires — from Ruin Me Stepfather down to My boyfriend ,y stepbrother, you are built differently and I respect you deeply. 😭🖤 This book was never for the faint of heart. It was for the ones who read with the door locked and the brightness turned all the way down.

My legs trembled as I stood up. I took my time unbuttoning my school shirt, letting the fabric fall open inch by inch. His dark eyes followed every movement. When I reached back and unhooked my bra, my small, perky tits spilled free, nipples already stiff from the cool air and pure arousal. I turned around, bent at the waist, and slowly slid my skirt and panties down my legs. I stayed bent over, reaching back to spread my ass for him, showing off my soaked pussy and tight little hole.

Nicholas pressed on; he was trying to make amends for being an asshole and denying her food. "Whatever you want is fine." Mary repeated, and Nicholas' facial muscles contorted into a frown. She sounded like the automated voice in his Tesla. "Alright." He sighed before proceeding with the call. But Mary sat still, a proud smile on her face. She had done all that her sister Martha had told her to—be submissive, always think of his happiness—and it worked. Or did it? Nicholas came back shortly, sitting beside her, and Mary froze due to the proximity. He was just so close, and she could perceive the scent of the perfume. But Nicholas was very observant, and he saw the way she stiffened when he c

He corrected and I slowly nodded my head in understanding. “A dominant is someone who’s always in control, someone who’s in power, or superior to the other… while a submissive is someone who tends to seek for guidance, control and confidence from the dominant. A submissive is someone who’s ready to put their trust in a dominant, because they know that the dominant wouldn’t ever hurt them or lead them astray.” He paused and I swallowed emptily, all what he had just said was still flying around the inside of my head but I was gradually digesting them all.