Author: Stella

findom

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Attention is currency, and mine is priced high for a reason. Don’t confuse this with being a kind soul, mon chéri. I don’t waste time on ghosts who confuse feelings with transactions. My only rule is etched in the ice of a Montreal winter: I only talk to losers who send me money.

And they are, universally, losers. Not in the theatrical sense, but in the sad, damp reality of their lives. They are the men who linger on the edges of crowds, who treat their pathetic lives like a tragedy requiring an audience. They try to send poems, long screeds about their mothers, or worse, unsolicited pictures of their sad little faces or their sad little neglected cocks.

Continue reading “Don’t Confuse This – Findom Phonesex” →

breeding kink

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Mr. Sterling was from out of town, his accent a low, rumbling melody that hinted at old money and even older secrets. I’d been working on the Harrington merger for months, flying back and forth, enduring endless conference calls with Mr. Sterling and his team. And, today, we’d finally sealed the deal.

“Stella,” he’d said, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “a deal this significant deserves a proper celebration. I’d be honored if you’d join me for dinner.” I hesitated for a split second, the professional in me battling the flicker of intrigue. But the thrill of closing such a massive deal, coupled with his undeniable charisma, won out. “I’d love to, Mr. Sterling.”

Continue reading “Doing Business With Mr. Sterling” →

domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

He was already there, kneeling in the center of the dark space. His back was too straight, his assigned sissy maid uniform too soft, too pink. This submissive, this sissy bitch, was waiting for me. I liked that I could feel his fear, even from across the floor. It was a good scent.

My heels clicked sharp and slow on the cement tiles. I walked a full circle around him, never touching, just watching the subtle way his whole body tensed and trembled. He kept his eyes locked on the floor, afraid to look at his mistress. Bon. Good manners are everything.

Continue reading “Sissy Bitch Maid” →

motorcycle slut

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

A black leather jacket, worn just right, hugged his wide shoulders. Dark jeans, heavy boots. His hair was long, pulled back in a knot, and he had a look in his eyes that said he knew things I didn’t. A scar cut a thin line through his eyebrow. He was a bad man, I thought. And my stomach twisted with a strange, dark excitement.

He didn’t look at anyone else. His eyes, dark like midnight, found mine across the room. A slow, knowing smile reached his lips. My heart, which had been so bored just moments ago, started to beat against my ribs. I didn’t smile back, just held his gaze like a silent dare.

Continue reading “Fucking Me In Leather On His Motorcycle” →

vampire blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The old castle felt like a living thing, breathing secrets into the cold night air. I had come here, drawn by a feeling I couldn’t name. Not for beauty, but for something dark, ancient, and undeniably powerful. Candles flickered in the great hall, shadows dancing like hungry spirits. Then, he was there. Vlad. Not appearing, not entering, but simply there. Tall, a silhouette against the deeper gloom, his eyes ancient and knowing.

He moved towards me, silent. Almost as if he was floating above the ground. Every step he took tightened something deep inside me, a knot of fear and something far more interesting. My breath caught in my throat. He wore clothes dark as his soul, and a scent, like old earth and something wild, filled the air around him.

Continue reading “Vlad’s Castle” →

cbt

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Puppet, a man I barely knew, was insisting I watch him as he pleasured himself. The audacity! I had only met him a few days prior at a mutual friend’s dinner party. But there he was, undressing in front of me, his lustful eyes pleading for me to stay.

“What’s gotten into you, Puppet?” I asked, trying to sound firm despite the nervous flutter in my chest. “We just met. This isn’t appropriate.” But he was relentless. “Just this once, Stella. I promise I won’t ask again,” he whispered, his hands already working to free his erection. “Please, I need to cum. My wife will be home any minute and…and I can’t help myself.”

Continue reading “CBT With Puppet” →

extra-terrestrial blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

They say the oldest profession adapts to anything. Mon Dieu, they were not wrong. Here I am, French as a baguette, running my little ’boutique sensuelle’ on Rue St. Dennis in beautiful Montreal (sweet bebe, you thought I was Parisienne French, didn’t you?). The clients? Well, that’s where it gets…interesting. You see, most of them aren’t human. They’re not even from planet earth.

Take tonight. My appointment, a Xylorian (pronounced “Sy-lor-ee-anne”) named Gleep, looked like a particularly disgruntled pile of amethyst-colored jello. Four eye-stalks, all twitching. He’s from a species that primarily communicates via bioluminescent mucus, which, let me tell you, makes for some truly messy pillow talk. And the smell! Like fermented algae and existential dread, even with the station’s advanced atmospheric scrubbers. But, c’est la vie, Gleep pays in rare crystals, which are currently trending on the galactic market. He also (naturally) leave quite the trail of slime after he cums.

Continue reading ““the oldest profession adapts to anything”” →

whore

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Ah, the whispers. They follow me, rustling through the market stalls, fluttering down cobbled streets. “La Française,” they hiss, as if my origin were a mark of evil itself. “That tramp. She’s a lady of the night, you know.” And then the little tittering laughs, like dry leaves moving across the pavement.

Me? I just tuck a rogue curl behind my ear, adjust the scarf I found near the canal – a surprisingly chic silk, mind you – and flash them a smile. A wide, toothy grin that usually makes them flinch. Because, mon chéri, they’re right. Every last word of it. They call me Stella. Or sometimes, if they’re feeling particularly brave and convinced of their own moral superiority, “that hussy.” I don’t mind. A name is a name, and a hussy, well, a hussy knows how to live.

Continue reading ““La Whore Française”” →

anal

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I had been hired to take over the management of a failing company, and the first person on the chopping block was Chris. He had only been there for a few weeks, but wow, he was bad at his job! I called him into my office, and he stood there nervously as I told him he was on thin ice. But then, I had a change of heart. Perhaps I could fix him.

“Chris,” I began, “I’m going to give you one chance to keep your job.” He looked at me with wide eyes, hopeful that I wasn’t going to fire him. “I want to stay here,” he said, “I like my job and all. What do you need me to do to make things right?” I leaned back in my chair with a smirk playing on my lips. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” he promised. Famous last words, I thought to myself.

Continue reading “Pegging Chris At Work” →

slut

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I’ve always had a reputation for being a bit of a free spirit. I was born in Quebec, and maybe that’s where my love for adventure comes from. We all know the Quebecois are fond of adventures! I’ve never been afraid to explore my desires, and that’s exactly what brought me to this small, romantic town on the coast of Italy last week. I’d been wandering the winding streets, taking in the sights and sounds, when I stumbled upon a quaint little cafe. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries wafted through the air, and I couldn’t resist stepping inside.

As I entered, I noticed a handsome man sitting alone at a table near the window. His eyes met mine, and I felt a spark ignite within me. He smiled, and I found myself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I approached him, my hips swaying seductively as I walked. “Mind if I join you?” I asked, my French accent on full display. He grinned and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Please, do,” he said, gesturing to the empty chair across from him.

Continue reading “My Reputation Precedes Me” →