Best 414 quotes in «bdsm quotes» category

(Erin) 'What do you think gave you this interest?' Yep. There it was. 'I’m not saying anything bad about it. I just wonder what makes one person want to hit another. Did I not give you enough contact when you were young? Should I have breast-fed?' (Derek)'I’m pretty sure it started when you left me in the bread aisle when I was two. I started thinking the only way to get people to notice me was to tie them up and whip them.

Even a weak mage’s blood can incapacitate a young vampire for days...I can’t imagine what someone like me would do to someone like you.

Finally he must have noticed his vice grip on Austin, because he made a disgusted face and threw Austin’s arms down. “I am the Dom here. I am in charge,” he insisted, but then all the anger left his voice. “And being in charge means controlling myself—my own urges—too. Maybe more so than I ever try to control you.” He petted Austin’s hair. Leaned in to press their foreheads together briefly, the way he always did when he was overcome with one of those emotions he refused to tell Austin about.

Fear triggers the fight-or-flight response, fueled by adrenaline, which, as it turns out, is chemically related to amphetamines. Granted, it's a very different kind of high for mindfuckers: not a mellow, floaty "my vulva is one with the universe" high but a jittery, revved-up "oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck" kind of high. Endorphins are like great downers but adrenaline is uppers all the way. And it's just as addictive. Don't believe me? Go ask anyone who likes to jump off bridges or out of airplanes. - Edge

Get out of your head.” He rotates his thumb and trails his tongue across my pliable lips. “Let it all go.

Funishment - not truly discipline.

… Get up against that wall now – let’s see your face against the tiles.” Your voice is little more than a growl and the instruction takes a moment to register. You push me up against the tiles, holding my hands behind my back.

Get on your knees. I want you to feel me so deep that the belt is of little consequence when it comes to breathing.

Gentleman,” I purr smoothly in greeting. Ezra and Cort circle me like sharks scenting blood. I know who they are, but not who is who since they’re wearing black hoods over their heads. It covers them to the shoulder and has holes for the eyes and mouth. Their clothing is identical Italian designer label suits. Even their shoes are the same. Their eyes glow like steel ball-bearings from the safety of their masks. The mouths are different- one serious, one snarky- both ruby-red and kissable. While they circle Fate and me several times taking our measure, the other Master stands in a sphere of his own confidence. He’s older and I don’t mean just in age, but knowledge. Ezra and Cortez feel like babies compared to this man. I bet he’s who I really have to impress. I wait, always meeting their eyes when their path moves them back to my face. I don’t follow them with my gaze- I wait. “Hello,” the hood with the serious lips speaks in a smooth deep tone. I know it’s not his true voice, but the one Kris calls The Boss. His eyes are kind and assessing. No one pays Fate any mind as she cowers at my thigh. I hold their undivided attention. Curly-locks is quiet- watchful- a predator sighting its quarry. Snarky mouth is leering at my chest and I smirk. Caught ya, Cortez Abernathy. “I seem to be at a disadvantage conversing with you while you’re hooded. I can’t see you, but you can see me.” I try to get them to out themselves. It’s a longshot. “And who are you, Ma’am?” Ezra asks respectfully. “Please call me Queen.” I draw on all of my lessons from Hillbrook to pull me through this conversation. The power in the air is stifling. I wonder if it’s difficult for them to be in the same room without having a cage match for dominance. I feel like I’m on Animal Planet and the lions are circling. “Queen, indeed,” Cort says snidely under his breath and I wince. I turn my face from them in embarrassment. I should have gone with something less- less everything. I know I’m strong, but the word also emulates elegance and beauty. I’m neither. Have to say, tonight has sucked for my self-esteem. First, the dominant one overlooks me for Fate and now Cortez makes fun of me- lovely. “What did you say to upset her?” Ezra accuses Cortez. “Nothing,” Cort complains in confusion. “Please excuse my partner. Words are his profession and it seems they have failed him this evening. I will apologize for not sharing our names, but this gentleman is Dexter.” He gestures to the dominant man. I wait for him to shake my hand like a civilized person. He does not- he actually crosses his arms over his chest in disobedience. This shit is going to be a piece of cake.

Given involuntarily, and in an atmosphere of distrust, pain is torture, whatever the motive," suggests David. "But given consensually, between equals, pain can be a most incredible form of love.

Good afternoon, Your Honor,” she said. “Thanks for doing this.” “Call me Joshua,” he replied. “Unless we meet in the courtroom.” “Or Sir,” Connor added. She looked between them. “You’re a Dom, too? How many of you are there?” “It’s not like we’re werewolves or something,” Connor protested. “Werewolves only get randy around the full moon.

Grip had been hungry ever since the first youthful spots on his sheets. Wanting to try what others only fantasized about, finding his way to the fearless ones who laughed back, the ones who also wanted it. Games with new positions had started before the end of adolescence. Later: bruises, leather straps, and candles—anything that excited—on airplanes, in hotel elevators with the emergency stop button pushed.

Give me your wrists, Alayna. I sense your impatience, and I know exactly where you intend for those hands to go.

He brought his lips and hot breath close to her ear. “And once I have you bound and helpless, how should I take you? Missionary? From behind? Against the wall?” He pulled back to face her. “Or all ways?” She inched her legs further apart, and nodded.

He caught her staring and smiled-not a conceited I-work-out-and-have-a-great-body type smirk, but more of a I’m-a-boy; you’re-a-girl; life is good.

He could kiss her, or he could bite her. Both possibilities were equally tempting.

Heck, that woman out there looked like she was getting more from one kiss than Jessica had ever gotten from the whole insert-dick-move-around shebang.

He'd never sought to mark a woman's flesh these shades of indigo and violet for pleasure.

God, he was an evil bastard, but boy was he good!

Have you gone crazy?" "Have you gone crazy, Master.

He is like ice cream without the calories or whiskey without the hangover. He's a drug. My drug.

He lashed the belt against my ass again, and I was starting to feel like I was some supernatural being that was more than he was. He was just human, but I felt like something from heaven, an angel from the stars, that had come down to grace him with my presence. How beautiful lust is, when it makes you feel this way. Have you felt this yourself, do you know what I mean?

He moves suddenly so that his hand is cupping my sex, and one of his fingers sinks slowly into me. His other arm holds me firmly in place around my waist. I suppress my moan. "This is mine," he whispers aggressively. "All mine. Do you understand?" He eases his finger in and out as he gazes down at me, gauging my reaction, his eyes burning. "Yes, yours,

He moves suddenly so that his hand is cupping my sex, and one of his fingers sinks slowly into me. His other arm holds me firmly in place around my waist. “This is mine,” he whispers aggressively. “All mine. Do you understand?” He eases his finger in and out as he gazes down at me, gauging my reaction, his eyes burning. “Yes, yours…” Abruptly, he moves, doing several things at once: Withdrawing his fingers, leaving me wanting, unzipping his fly, and pushing me down onto the couch so he’s lying on top of me. “Hands on your head,” he commands through gritted teeth as he kneels up, forcing my legs wider… “We don’t have long. This will be quick, and it’s for me, not you. Do you understand? Don’t come, or I will spank you,” he says through clenched teeth.

He places one of his long fingers over my lips, silencing me. I can smell my own musky arousal on his digit and I have the strongest urge to take it in my mouth and suck it as I did earlier during my audition. He says nothing but drills into me with those dazzling eyes. I have the strangest feeling that he is looking into my soul. “Let us see where the wave takes us. I know I am going to enjoy the ride and I can guarantee our mutual satisfaction. Maybe we’ll be washed to shore, I just don’t know yet, but you can be certain of one thing…” I gaze up at him from his chest, breathing in the scent of his masculinity as I do. “What’s that, sir?” I ask, my voice betraying the curiosity I feel. He looks down at me for a long, hard moment before he answers. “I won’t let you drown.

He pulled my head back further, and I could hear his ragged breathing as his mouth came close to my ear, sounding so desperate for me. God, I was turned on so much…

He pulled off the condom brusquely, wiped the head on my cheek, and threw it in the gutter.  My humiliation was scorching hot.  I couldn't help touching myself yet another time.  His eyes called me 'slut' as I came again.

He pointed at the paper. “I want you to write me a description of every foot you’ve put wrong since we met. Make sure I can read your writing. You have five minutes.” Write about every foot I’d put wrong. I peered down at my feet. I started to write: My left foot is a size eight point five. It has a high arch, and my big toe is longer than my second toe. There is a light smattering of hair on the top of my foot. I paused and stuck my left leg out, studying my shoe. Right now I am wearing Nike Frees for m— “Bring me your paper.” I glanced at my paper. “I’m not done yet.” “One . . . two . . .” I brought him the paper.

He'd seen when she began to panic, but he hadn't offered comfort like other Doms or changed his plans. He'd just waited her out. She could hate him a little for that.

He reached out and ran his thumb over her bottom lip again and then slipped it inside her mouth. Eva froze, feeling the tip of his digit hook over her bottom teeth.

Here,” I said, shoving the board into his hands. He started laughing. “WHAT are you laughing at?!” I demanded irritably. “Well, it’s just that… that’s going to hurt a bit, my dear. Go on, bend over. I’ll demonstrate.

Her voice was a sensual, confiding whisper, and he clung to ever rapturous word. "You take the grenade, I'll take the pin.

He drank in her misery like fine wine, savoring every drop, letting it soothe his mind, his tension flowing out the fingertips that held the paddle.

Her back bows over the kitchen island, our empty plates rattling with the thrust of my hand. Two orgasms later, she stumbles into the living room to work on her homework, argument forgotten.

Her good eye, though bloodshot and tired, gleamed with mischief. He saw through the bruises adorning her. She was beautiful and conniving. “Are you asking me to run away with you?” She intertwined her bandaged fingers with his the same way she had at the club. He felt control of the situation transferring into her hands as it had then.

He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her into him with an unyielding strength. She’d been unmistakably seized.

He's not a monster, he's a teddy bear," Eve said defiantly. "He's my teddy bear. I don't want you to hurt him. I want you to fix him." "There's nothing to fix," Danny said. "Paul's not broken.

Her inexperience demanding to be overturned intrigued him. She’d called him a gentleman. He was. When shown a door, he’d been taught to open it.

Her intensity often surprises and mystifies the people within the Warrior Princess Submissive's circle of associates. They will occasionally forget how deeply she feels and believes in her causes and, as a result, suddenly find themselves being pummeled in a debate that they hadn't expected, nor wanted.

He’s a steamroller in my life and I like to be laid out flat. I like his hands on my chest, pushing me down whenever my back turns to the span of a bridge. His hands on my thighs, forcing me flat, flat, flat. Yes. Yes, I like that.

He smiled. A sub shouldn’t be terrified, but a little anxiety was good.

He spanks me again, and again, and again. I lose count after ten strikes, too consumed with the aching sensation spreading across the lower half of my torso. Eventually, I hear myself gasp and moan at each strike, the sting intensifying as my flesh warms with every blow.

He wondered what she would taste of — fantasized about how gunpowder and scorched earth would weigh on his tongue.

His chestnut hair was wild and haphazard, its cut imperfect, just as it had been when he was human — in a century when bladed scissors were below warlords such as Luca cel Rau, who would’ve used his boot dagger instead.

He was a predator - a big, scary, hot-looking predator. And I wanted to be his prey.

He was an animal. He'd drawn blood and now he needed to fuck, to cover her with his scent, to tell the world, She is mine. Stay away.

His pleasure is my pleasure.

His tongue fucks my mouth the way his cock fills my pussy. Deeply, urgently, and completely unrestrained.

His last thought flashed like a mantra over and over again. Let the challenge begin.

Hmmm,” you muse out loud. Your voice is deep and carnal, a sound which sends new surges of desire rushing to my sex. “These balls are awfully dusty - if only I knew a little slut who was good at polishing balls…