Long Leg Fetish

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When I was growing up, my aunt used to tell me how lucky I was to be a ‘leggy blonde.’ It didn’t make sense to me until I was much older and realized all the benefits of being precisely what she said. “Leggy.” These long, smooth stems lure boys like the flame calls to the moth.

They flutter forward, hoping for warmth and protection, and then find themselves aflame. While the lust for my legs burns just as hot as the moth’s flickering flame, it’s only half as dangerous. My victims often escape with their lives and a reoccurring lust for my long leg.

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Santa bought me a new Lush, all pink and shiny. He said it was for him; no one else was allowed to control me. I tried to be his good little Ho, but the truth is, even Santa knows I’m a naughty fucking Ho. There on his lap, with the Lush deep inside me, Krampus took over via his cell phone behind me!

The buzz was so soft Santa couldn’t hear, but the stain on my cheeks was sure to alert him. I sat up straight and looked all around. Was Krampus looking to tease or aiming to please?

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Fake Submissives disgust me. When I get home, you better not be there. You won’t. Take everything with you. I don’t even care if you take my stuff at this point; I just want you out before I get home. The only thing you’re allowed to leave behind is your flesh. We agreed it belonged to me.

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What Are You Doing?

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Have you ever gotten that text? “What are you doing?” Maybe it’s just me, but I think those four words hold so much promise. Last night, I was bored and wanted to have some fun. Some productive fun. I’d ordered a new fuck machine and really wanted to test it out on a willing victim.

Sure, I know what you’re thinking, “willing?” Yes. Most often, I do like to take my prey by surprise, but I wanted an honest review of my new toy, so I texted my girlfriend to see if she’d be up for a bit of experimenting.

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Service Myself

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I’m here to service myself. I like getting off, but none of you boys can ever do it right. Honestly, it’s frustrating as hell, so I’m taking matters into my own hands.

The next person who calls me is getting tied up in my living room. Hands above your head, feet forced apart by a spreader bar, and a lot of shibari work to build a harness with a loop on each side in case I need to flip you or fasten you to a cable from the ceiling. I’m genuinely really excited to make you into a sex toy. I think I’ll even assemble a pulley system to easily hoist you up to the ceiling when I’m not using you.

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Accidental Cheating

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I swear it was accidental cheating! Let me tell you what happened, and you can decide for yourself. This guy I’ve been seeing asked me to attend his office Halloween party with him. We haven’t really been that serious, but I felt like this was an excuse for him to show me off and try to make things more official.

I’m not really into being “official,” but I love an excuse to dress up. He picked out this really sexy Princess Leia costume for me, and he would dress as Darth Vader. We got dressed and arrived at his office building the night of the party. They had the lights dimmed down to nearly off and spooking lighting flashing as fake thunder rumbled over the music. Everyone was wearing incredible costumes, and we started dancing with his coworkers.

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I find that the most fun I have is hearing the screams of the men who think they can handle me. Would you like to test if you are worth my time? It always starts the same. Brave and bold. Sure, go ahead and tie me up. I don’t need a safeword. I’m a tough guy; I can take anything you can dish out. With my eyes rolling, I ask if you insist that you don’t need a safeword, like 90% of the guys think they don’t. To their credit, a few actually do not. But once you’re tied down over my bench, there’s no going back.

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Bondage is such a hot way to show someone how much trust they have in you. My sweet boy hasn’t had much experience with bondage, but he is willing to let me do anything and everything I desire to his perfect body.

Inside of our playroom is a bench-like chair that operates a lot like an inverted table. I can maneuver the table up, down, back and forth, so to speak. Any which way I desire to use my boy’s body for my pleasure. Tonight, I secured him to that table with leather straps and tormented the fuck out of him.

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You horny bitches have been putting your dick where it doesn’t belong for a long ass time. Why would you stop now? Welcome to my Oubliette of oppression. In here, nothing you desire matters. I don’t care what you think, nor do I wish to hear you express it.

You are property and will accept what’s given to you. The only reason you exist is for my pleasure or entertainment. A hint of humiliation will accompany your pain. In fact, I wish to start there. Strip naked so I can inspect my new pincushion. Some toys arrive with flaccid flatworms that shrivel in fear, and others stand tall at attention, but your size will not grant you any favors.

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Fuck calling me princess, or your queen. Call me your king. You can call me Daddy. It’s not about the way I look it’s about the way I carry myself. You will address me appropriately, and you will thank me for it. Bow down and kiss the ring on my right hand and pay homage to your king. While you’re down there, lick my boots clean. Don’t come into my home without being prepared to provide me with the proper gifts and sacrifice required to talk to the baddest bitch you’ve ever met.

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