Kink & BDSM
Power play, dominance, exploring boundaries
38 stories
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Bellows
The way your breath catches against the shutter’s click suggests you aren’t nearly as bored with this as you’re pretending to be.
Why Does Your Pulse Race Whenever I Mention the Cleaver?
I watched the way you looked at the carbon steel, not with fear, but with a terrifyingly precise sort of hunger.
Render
She looked at me the way a line cook looks at a ticket rail during a Friday rush—total focus and predatory.
Sloane's Lanyard
The humidity in Grant Park felt like a breach of contract, a heavy, suffocating weight that made every inch of skin feel litigious and over-sensitized.
“If You Touch That Spine One More Time, I’m Going to Make You Regret Having Hands”
She didn't just want me to stop talking; she wanted the very air I'd used to form the words returned to her.
Starch
I have taught three hundred students that tension requires a delayed gratification, but you are a master of the cruelest syllabus I have ever encountered.
A Blue Paper Wristband, Tightened Twice
Maya didn't flinch when he cinched the paper band, the adhesive sticking to the fine, pale hairs of her wrist.
Harrison's Secateurs
He gripped the back of her neck, his thumb tracing the frantic beat of her pulse against the vineyard’s humid twilight.
![](https://miscd.fra1.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium/"i'm-counting-every-minute-you’re-not-under-my-thumb"-419-cover-1784246467772.jpg)
"I'm Counting Every Minute You’re Not Under My Thumb"
The saxophone wailed like a widow while I watched her pulse jump against the high collar of that black silk shirt.
![](https://miscd.fra1.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium/"you’re-smirking-into-your-gin-again"-364-cover-1783987240275.jpg)
"You’re Smirking Into Your Gin Again"
I looked at the phone in my clutch, the screen a tiny white sun against the charcoal walls of the gallery.
![](https://miscd.fra1.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium/"you’ve-been-holding-your-breath-since-the-lobby"-583-cover-1783814453050.jpg)
"You’ve Been Holding Your Breath Since the Lobby"
The humidity in St. Barts was a physical weight, much like the expectation that I would remain composed while Kieran dismantled my autonomy.
Fasten the Silk
The leather of my raptor mask smelled of tanning oils and the salt of my own breath, trapped against my lips.