Kink & BDSM
Power play, dominance, exploring boundaries
16 stories
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I Should Have Stayed in My Room
He looked at me across the tasting room like I was a budget deficit he intended to balance with his bare hands.
![](https://miscd.fra1.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium/"you’re-not-wearing-the-bracelet-i-sent-to-your-hotel"-726-cover-1777536060331.jpg)
"You’re Not Wearing the Bracelet I Sent to Your Hotel"
The bass from the main stage was vibrating the walls of the trailer, a rhythmic thud that matched the way my thumb was hovering over the send button.
Did You Hear the Lock Click?
He has these hands that look like they could build a house or tear one down, and right now, they’re wrapped around my wrists.
Veneer
He didn't ask for permission to touch the small of my back; he claimed it as though he had already seen the deed of title.
Claire's Lanyard
Her skin is the color of expensive stationery and I am about to ruin the margin with every mark I leave.
A Chipped Ceramic Coaster
I watched you bite your lip when the minister mentioned 'forever,' and I knew then that your knees were already bruised from me.
Tent Site B22
Her skin was coated in that fine, glittery festival dust that gets into everything—your lungs, your gear, your memories.
Wait for the Solo
The air in the club was thick with the kind of expensive dust that only accumulates in places where the gin is twenty dollars.
The Balcony of Room 402
Your hands were behind your back, your wrists crossed, and for a second, the only sound was the tide hitting the rocks.
A Heavy Steel Carabiner
The way you stood before the charcoal sketch of the dead orchard, your knees locked and your hands behind your back, was the only honest thing in that room.
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"You Know What Happens to Books That Stay Unopened"
The weight of the silence in the shop was like a reduction sauce—thick, concentrated, and smelling faintly of things that had simmered too long.
![](https://miscd.fra1.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium/"i-didn't-say-you-could-swallow"-80-cover-1775998051877.jpg)
"I Didn't Say You Could Swallow"
The air in the cellar was thick, a heavy blanket of damp earth and French oak that made the high-altitude dryness of my real life feel like a hallucination.