BDSM Archives — Page 401 of 419 — NSFW story

The Test Subject – Part Four [MFT,BDSM,sci-fi,horror,gore]

Blood and gore warning

“Hera, please clean our test subject.”

“What happened to calling me by my first name?” Mark asked Dr. Rebekah.

“That was a slip up on my part, Mr. Richardson.”

The giant she-god walked over to Mark, her muscles undulating. She started licking his face and neck, cleaning cum off of him. “Mmmm”

Mark vaguely felt like a baby kitten getting a bath from its mother. He watched Hera’s breasts jiggle as she cleaned him, her long finger-like nipples occasionally brushing him.

“OK Hera, now use some damp towels, please,” Dr. Rebekah instructed.

Hera gave Mark a through scrubbing with warm, wet towels. Getting the rest of the semen out off of him.

The giantess stooped over and cleaned the floor, too. With envy, Mark watched her enormous cock sway and flop. Hera’s firm buttocks and leg muscles flexed, her massive shoulders working as she cleaned.

“Good enough Hera. You may retire for the night.” Dr. Rebekah casually dismissed the she-god. Hera picked up all the towels and her discarded two-piece tunic and walked towards the door. Mark watched her enormous muscular ass, her swaying breasts, and that glorious arcing cock as the giantess departed. Read more »

The Test Subject – Part Three [MFT,BDSM,sci-fi,huml]

Mark had become his penis, and only his penis.

The latex body suit, the restraints, the darkened room….it subdued and buried all of the rest of him into the background. His job, his personality, the socially acceptable masks he wore…none of it mattered.

He was a hungry, needy, desperate penis. Strapped to a table in a lab. Nothing less and nothing more.

Rigid before him, erect and stiffer than he’d ever known it to be, stood his member for the world to see. Shaved clean, his dick and balls were exposed and vulnerable. Bursting forth from a slit precisely cut in the latex by the doctor. It looked like a ripe piece of fruit about to be plucked.

His cock was cool and glistening in the air of the lab. The end of the stainless steel pipe still protruded from his urethra. The spotlight glinted off of both the steel pipe and his cock as it throbbed and burned.

“A banana on a display pole,” he mumbled to himself, almost laughing. Read more »

The Test Subject – Part Two [MF,BDSM,sci-fi]

Dr. Rebekah eyed Mark warily, “Things are about to get intense for you, Mr. Richardson. I hope you’re ready.”

Mark tried to breathe deeply, slowly, to calm himself. He was so aroused and so frightened at the same time.

“This examination table serves multiple purposes,” the doctor continued.

“The first purpose is to restrain you, obviously. It’s not to restrain you against your will. In fact we know you want to be restrained. It’s to give you permission to submit. To keep the embarrassed and fearful part of your brain from overriding your true wants and needs, your inner desires.”

Mark watched her as she slowly paced in front of him.

“Secondly it is important that you remain very still for what’s coming next. If you wiggle around too much it could damage you. ”

Mark felt the sweat trickling under his arms and down his back. The latex bodysuit was even more like a greasy sausage casing.

“Thirdly, the straps and examination table surface have nano-scale probes embedded in them. I shall activate them now.” Read more »

The Test Subject – Part One [MF,BDSM,sci-fi]

It was well after dark as Mark nervously approached the office building. A subtle sign posted by the entrance read “EMB Labs”.

He had rushed here right after work. Anxious to find out if this place was legitimate or not. The advertisements had all looked fantastic of course, as advertisements always do. His own independent research into things hadn’t turned up much, but he did find a handful of neutral 3rd party recommendations, all of them positive.

One trusted source simply nodded and said, “Do it, you might regret it, but it was one of the most fun and intense experiences I’ve ever had.”

Mark hesitated by the door. He looked around. The building was nondescript, almost intentionally bland and generic. It was nestled deep in an office park. A few pedestrians were milling around, the majority of them appeared to be heading home or at least away from this place.

He sighed as he reached for the door. He was a little scared. But he’d called and made an appointment. They were expecting him.

“Welcome to EMB Labs, Mr. Richardson,” a warm silky voice said. Mark peered around the door, which he had only half opened. Read more »

When my girlfriend asked to be fucked in a cage [M/f]

I was dating this girl for a few months before she ever let on any hint that she was submissive. One day driving home, it just came up – somehow we got to talking about bondage and BDSM, and I'll never forget how she said "yeah…we can try that." It took a few minutes to register that my girlfriend was telling me she was curious about being tied up and collared. Every girl I dated before her was sort of kinky, but none of them were as deeply perverted and totally submissive as her. When we got home, we cuddled in bed and looked up a list of different kinks and fetishes related to BDSM. We would read and tell each other which kinks we were interested in, and I was shocked when she pointed out "rape-play" with a smile, saying again "yeah, we can try that…" I was only a junior in college, and she was two years younger than me – I couldn't believe she had already fantasized about rape play at age 19. She brought up our planned visit to her parents' house over Thanksgiving break, when we'd have the whole weekend in the house to herselves…"Maybe you can put me in my dog's cage…" We slept together that night without having sex or even undressing, promising each other that our next session would be very… experimental. Read more »

Have Yourself a Kinky, Little Christmas [MF] [BDSM]

Tugging Reins

Chris Carey snuck into the back of the private party room. All alone, he’d timed it perfectly to arrive exactly fifteen minutes late to the large-chain restaurant—the kind with all the kitschy movie and sports memorabilia hanging from the walls—hoping to be the last person there. And, just as he’d expected, no one in the crowded, boisterous room noticed him as he slid, shoulders slumped in on himself, into a seat at the far end of the room.

A munch, huh?

It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. When he’d thought about kinky parties, he imagined lots of leather and equipment and…well, kink.

And, true, this wasn’t a party, per se. Not a play party anyway. More like a meet-up. A mixer. It reminded him of his college orientation actually. A room full of people whom he didn’t know, wasn’t sure how to get to know, and wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to know.

But he wanted to know about kink. And all the sites he’d been to—the good ones anyway—had said that munches were the way to go. To get a foot in the BDSM door.

So he’d come. Read more »

Ass[f]ucking a [m]arried slut and knocking another item off my bucket list

I have a sexual bucket list that includes all kinds of crazy and not-so-crazy things. I have no idea if I'll like all of them, but I would like to try all of them.

One of the things on the list was to assfuck a married woman who doesn't afford her husband that luxury. Another thing on the list was to fuck someone who was visiting town for work. I've already managed to scratch the latter one off my list, but who said I can't do it twice?

I got an email last Tuesday from someone. She claimed to be married and in town for work. She said her husband isn't allowed anywhere near her ass. And she wanted me in there.

We emailed, exchanged numbers and pictures, and confirmed we were who we said we were. I also confirmed she was into BDSM and then packed my bag of toys and rope. I also discussed hard limits and safe words.

We agreed that we would meet at 9 PM in the hotel room. She was ordered to shower, shave, keep the door ajar, and wait for me on the bed, naked, with her face down and ass up. Read more »

Who Knew Toy Shopping Could Be So Fun? [MF][BDSM][More playfully erotic than graphic]

Pervertable

God, the last half of her shift was going by at a painfully slow pace!

Thirty minutes more, Dana Wainsfield told herself as she glared at the clock on the cash register screen. Just half an hour more. In half an hour, she could take off her name tag—“Welcome to Catered Cook; My Name is Dana”—and her smock—“Catering to Your Home Cooking Needs!”—and go home.

Dana, like the vast amount of low-wage workers, didn’t much like her job. She had bigger dreams than retail.

Unlike the vast amount of fake bakers and culinary hobbyists that trolled her store, Dana was a chef.

Well, aspiring, really.

She’d done the classes. Had aced school. But, the problem was, no one was hiring right now. Not out-of-work, inexperienced gastronomical snobs anyway.

Which was fine, she supposed. What she really wanted to do was write. Cookbooks, that is. She was the next Julia Powell, she knew it.

Her boyfriend—an odd acquisition she’d found working at the bookstore on the first level while scoffing at the “15-minute dinner” books—thought so too. With a metabolism that kept him lanky no matter what he ate, he gobbled up her dishes with a gusto that she found incredibly attractive. He had an abundance of good taste and a good appetite, two qualities she sought the way other girls did muscles or money. Read more »

Overexposed [MF] [FF] [BDSM]

Safeword

You never feel more attention than in the moments you wish you could disappear. You shrink. Slump your shoulders. Cross your arms over your chest. Tuck your legs tight under your chair. But, no matter what you do, it’s impossible to ignore, much less deny, the auditorium-full of focused stares you can feel on you.

The room is so quiet, you can hear the squeak of your philosophy professor’s dry erase marker while she writes today’s topic on the whiteboard.

“Is Privacy Possible?” Professor Miriam Vegas reads the words she wrote. She turns to face the class. “In a world connected by the internet and social media, where we document, record, and share everything we do with the world, has the expectation for privacy become obsolete?”

Her eyes pause on you. It’s slight, but you catch her cringe. She tries to hide it by adjusting her glasses.

You sigh. It’s a nice effort, but about as subtle as flashing warning lights telling everyone not to look at you.

You just nod and hope it comes off confident and reassuring. Even if it isn’t true, you owe it to Professor Vegas to pretend. She’d been kind enough to send an email before class, to make sure you’d be all right during today’s discussion topic. Read more »