Submissive Sex Stories Novels & Stories

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

Damien leaned in closer, his breath brushing against my ear as he spoke. “Be a good girl and spread your legs for me, Serena. Don’t make me ask twice.” My legs slowly fell open again, almost like they had a mind of their own. My hands were shaking as I slid one back between my thighs, gently rubbing my swollen, aching clit. Damien watched every movement with hungry eyes. “Louder,” he ordered. “Moan like you were before. I want to hear how much of a needy little slut you really are.” A broken whimper escaped my lips as I pushed two fingers inside my soaked hole, slowly pumping them in and out while rubbing my clit with my other hand. This is just like the books I read… am I not lucky?

- Each time we are in the red room, you will no longer have a name; you will be called number 1, because you are the first submissive to come to my floor. Here is a submission contract that is known only to us and my lawyers. In addition to the contract, there is a questionnaire that you must answer as honestly as possible, your preferences, what you hate the most; based on your answers, I will know how to conduct the sessions. - What are these sessions? - They are sessions where you will have a lot of pleasure. You are my submissive, my slave in the red room. But outside the room, you are my personal assistant in the eyes of everyone. I have two mistresses, four girlfriends in different cit

She looked comfortable, like she owned the place. “Getting late, Matt,” she said softly. “You look tense. Why don’t you tell me a story? Or better yet, let me tell you one.” She started talking in that low, husky voice. Stories about late-night deals, fast cars, and men who thought they could control her. Every one had a dirty edge. How she once made a rival boss beg on his knees. How power felt better when it came with pleasure. Matt listened, pretending it was just work, but his dick stayed rock hard the whole time.

“The abuse stories. The missing girls from the Boston church. The rumors of payoffs, of girls who vanished after private ‘counseling.’ I thought you were—” He cut me off with a kiss, mouth bruising, and tongue claiming, tasting of smoke and holy bread. His hand replaced mine, two fingers curling inside me, thumb on my clit, and relentless, perfect. I came hard, knees buckling, and his arm the only thing keeping me upright, my release flooding his fingers, dripping down my thighs, and pooling on the stone. The cameras caught every shudder, every tear, and every drop. He pulled back, lips wet with me, eyes glowing in the candlelight.

“I am a dom, Ms. Cane I go by many names: top, dominator, master, when mixing d/s- that is domination and submission. With master/slave relations I prefer to be called ‘Sir’ by my subs. My job as a dom is to ensure my sub is pleased… at my leisure and preference, of course. I use my little room, the room you invaded, to my advantage. It comes equipped with toys of all sorts that I like to play with. My sub, a willing woman, is the best toy of all inside those walls.” By now my fingertip was playing with the zipper on her grey, seamed, cotton pants. I undid the button and proceeded to rub her pussy through her lace panties. Impressive. I like a woman who knows how to wrap it up and present it

He was doing this on purpose. My moans turned desperate and broken. “I'll sign”, I gasped in a hoarse voice, finally. “Just let me come—please—”. He slowed, grinding deep while he continued rubbing lazy circles on my clit now. “Say it clearly”. He said in a low and dark voice. “I'll sign the contract”, I repeated, tears pricking my eyes from the denied release. “I'll be your submissive for six months”. He rewarded me by rubbing my clit again, harder and faster, until the orgasm crashed through me so violently my knees buckled.

He even left the door wide open, like he wanted me to see. Wait. Is this a trap? I took a step backward, my face set into a stern expression as I tried to hide the fact that I needed something to fill me up. My pussy was throbbing uncontrollably and it was getting painful. Xavier walked up to me, took my fingers that still glistened from the wetness of my pussy and sucked them into his mouth with a loud pop. My thighs clenched. Those pink lips sucked on my fingers with an intensity that made my legs weak. He bit it gently, and then licked like it was his favorite lollipop, making the pain to highlight the pleasure.