Submissive Female Sex Stories Mga Nobela at Kwento

The final text was a thin volume bound in plain leather. It contained no title. Only the word O was stamped on the cover. Inside were stories of submission, a collection of narratives detailing extreme power exchanges, each followed by academic commentary. Elara read selected passages until her skin crawled with a strange mix of dread and arousal. The stories were not fantasies. They were case studies. And the commentaries dissected the psychological, even spiritual, architecture of surrender with chilling clarity. The last story ended mid-sentence. The next page was blank. Her own story would be written there. She was to be the final case study, the living application of the theory. The tex

Slower this time, grinding deep, making me feel every inch. “Say it again,” he demanded, reaching around to stroke me. “I’m yours, Vincenzo. Your hole. Your captive. Please don’t stop.” Round three he flipped me on my back, legs over his shoulders, staring into my eyes as he bred me again. I came hands-free, shooting across my chest while my hole milked him dry. He followed with a deep groan, pumping another load into me. We went four rounds total. By the end I was a shaking, cum-soaked mess, leaking everywhere, completely wrecked in his arms. He held me close, one big hand stroking my back almost tenderly.

She already knew that would be expected. Damon’s bedroom was even larger than hers. The massive king-sized bed dominated the room, covered in black silk sheets. Damon stood by the windows wearing only a pair of dark gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, revealing the deep V of his sculpted abs and the outline of his heavy cock. “Close the door,” he ordered. Ara obeyed. “So today’s scene,” he said, “is about a submissive woman meeting her ex one last time before her wedding. She knows it’s wrong. She knows she shouldn’t. But she can’t resist him. She lets him ruin her for her future husband. That’s the energy I want.”

It was as much as she could do to keep her hand away from her pubis, the warmth doubled by the knowledge that Tony was sharing the same almost uncontrollable emotions. He brought out the rest, one after the other, an exotic feast of sensual delights, each more daring and innovative than the last. There was one of a woman wearing vaguely Eastern dress suggestive of a harem. She was on all fours, bending over so that her pudendum was in full view: the shadowed area between her legs, the plump wet labia fringed with hair. Her mouth encompassed the turgid prick of the youth beneath her. An older man straddled her, about to thrust a truly spectacular twelve-inch cock into the depths of her forbid

The rules of the contract became my new reality. Rule number four: The Submissive will not touch herself sexually without permission from the Dominant. It was a rule I found increasingly difficult to obey. My body was in a constant state of heightened awareness, a low thrum of arousal just beneath the surface. I’d be in the middle of painting, and the memory of his hands on me would hit me, a wave of heat so strong I’d have to stop and catch my breath.

And every bitch deserves to be fucked like a queen. Was that a twisted way of thinking? Maybe. But it was mine. The truth is, I didn’t want to submit. I wanted to dominate. To control. To flog. To slap. To make sure pleasure was given, not taken. Sex should be a gift I deliver, not something I surrender to.

She lifted her head then moved to prop herself up, though her blindfold fell off I didn’t need it anymore. She gave off the hottest little grunts as she met my thrusts, and there was no telling who was fucking who. Female shifters rarely want to dominate a male, they get off on being a submissive little tease. They certainly don’t give as soon in bed as they get, not in my experience. “More,” she cried out, only spurring me on. I began to slowly pull out and thrust back in, pushing myself in so damn far she had to be feeling me in her belly. Out … in. Out … in.

Then I felt her push forward. The stretch was immediate and intense. My body resisted at first, the intrusion foreign and overwhelming. But Jade was patient, pushing slowly, giving me time to adjust. Inch by inch, the strap-on slid inside my ass, filling me in a way I had never been filled before. "Oh fuck," Jade breathed. "You look so good like this. Taking both of us. Such a good little slut."

Cristina's POV. "Ahhh, Mmmm." A loud gasp came from the other side of the door, followed by rasped heavy breathing. That was exactly what I needed. Heat bloomed low in my core as I shoved the door open. The scene before me was like something out of my wildest fantasies and my nipples hardened under the tight leather gown I'd thrown on. In a corner was a woman, her legs spread far apart. One man pumped his fingers in and out of her wet cunt, making her quiver beneath him while another guy fucked her throat hard, slamming against her again and again as his groans escaped his mouth.

**HotFantasy88:** Fuck, Susan. That dildo is going to look incredible stretching your tight little pussy. Set up the new light and tripod. I want another private call. I’ll tip $800 this time if you ride it for me, wear the red set, and get really loud and nasty. Tell me how bad you need real cock while you fuck yourself.