Wanita Dominan Novels & Stories

Cindy shrugged. Cara nodded but didn't pry any further. "So the blonde from earlier, her name is Simone. She usually plays the role of a dominatrix." Cindy started her introductions. "Dominatrix?" Cara wondered, her brows furrowing. "Ah babe, you have so much to learn. In total, three of the eight women here are doms, while the rest of us typically play submissive roles. I'll get into the details of terminology later." Cindy said, then continued on.

And if she was here, if she was part of this, that meant everything I’d believed about her had been too kind. The next time they came in, I forced myself to stay quiet. I didn’t thrash or fight or make noise. I just listened. The men didn’t speak much when they were close to me, but I picked up fragments. mentions of Dominic, of deadlines, of pressure. And then, once again, the woman’s voice drifted through the door. Clearer this time. “Dominic needs to believe he’s in control,” she said. “Let him think he’s making choices. The more he believes that, the less likely he is to fight.”

So why the hell do I want her? Female dominants have it hard enough. I know this and have seen it with my own eyes. They aren't taken seriously in so many circles. This woman breathes exactly who and what she is. So, again, why the fuck is my cock hard and my brain begging for a chance to slip my dick in between her hot lips?

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

Too much like who? The puzzle was snapping together. Pieces she never knew existed were suddenly slotting into place with cruel symmetry. That photo. That mask. The videos. The whispered word: Domina. She’d thought Domica was just a role. A rebellion. A fantasy she shaped into her own armor. But what if she wasn’t the first? What if the persona she had created… wasn’t hers at all? Later that evening, Dominique sat curled in her bed, the attic’s dust still clinging to her skin. She hadn’t showered. She hadn’t spoken. Her phone buzzed, but she didn’t check it—until the screen lit up with a contact not saved in her phone.

"Yes, have you ever heard that Dominic is the target of many women? Starting from artists, models like you, or fellow businesswomen around him. There are lots of women who approach him. Just like what you do now. But they will immediately wave the white flag when they meet with his grandmother. It's a great weapon Dominic always uses if he wants to get rid of those annoying women." "Oh, really?" Ah, now Lyra understands why there is so much news about Dominic's dating with many women but none of them are valid. So because of this? Knowing that she had survived until now made Lyra proud. "You're so brave, Woman. So, grandma likes you already? It will take a very long time usually. But why for

Dwayne raises his hand to stop them and they obey. "I should warn you that you should keep your damn thoughts off my mate because she will never be yours. Even the moon goddess knows how evil you are. That is why she never gave you a mate of your own. You could never treat a female right," I continue firing at him, not minding the fact that his guards are watching. "What? That you are the one that knows how females are supposed to be treated? What could you possibly give a female?" "Love," I respond in a firm voice.

Witnessing the woman's difficulty in control, he considered quickly. Being a dominant aka a master has the power to give orders as long as it does not violate the agreement they agreed upon at the beginning, and an agreement must be carefully thought out because the slave is prohibited from refusing if he does not want to be punished. What kind of punishment? They need to discuss it further. "Okay, if you ask me to be your Dom, are you sure you can consistently obey?"

My dad knew I feared him, so he took advantage of that and controlled my life. “Giving up control to me completely,” Adam explained again, “is not about dominance or submission. It’s a mutual exchange.” “Did you do this with the women you dated? What about the ones I read about online? The ones we see in the mainstream? Those women engaged in kinky stuff like being tied, cuffed, roped, gagged, spanked, and… tortured. They also crawl and worship their dominants.” I shook my head and closed my eyes. “I just can’t…”