Kink & BDSM
Power play, dominance, exploring boundaries
27 stories
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Will You Tell Me When It Starts to Burn?
He held the stem of the glass like a throat, his thumb tracing the rim with a precision that made her lungs feel suddenly too small for her chest.
Keep Your Weight Centered
The way you looked at me wasn't romantic; it was an audit, a line-by-line verification of everything I’d spent ten years trying to redact.
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.
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.
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.
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"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.
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"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.
June 28th, 1:12 AM
My billable hour is four hundred and fifty dollars, yet I’m standing in a basement in Pienza letting a man tell me I’m incompetent.