Category: femme domme phonesex

domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

They come to my apartment, crawling with their money and their sad, empty eyes. They want to be nothing. And I am good at making them nothing. When my heels click on the polished floor, it is a quick, clean sound. Like a tiny whip. I wear black, always. Black is serious. Black is power. My red lipstick is the only color. It is like a stain, a mark, on a clean sheet.

Today, it is a man named Mark. He sits on my velvet couch. This man is too big for it, so his shoulders are hunched. He looks like a little lost, but he is old. Pathetic. He avoids my gaze. Good. He knows his place. “You are early,” I say. My voice is not loud, but it is like ice. “Did I say you could be early? No.”

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Let It Snow

Posted 2 days ago by Felicity

Phonesex with Felicity 1844-332-2639 x 270

It was supposed to be just one episode of our reality trash TV show, and then Joel was going to go home. Only we couldn’t indulge in the drama of other people’s lives without a drink. So one glass turned to two, and two turned to three. The next thing I knew, Joel was in no condition to drive home when our show ended. “I’ll just call an Uber.” He slurred at me, and I giggled as I shook my head.

“No way, Jose! It’s snowing so badly out there. You can’t ask anyone to drive in that. So stay here with me tonight and let it snow!”

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spanking blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Brian knew. He’d forgotten himself, let a task slip in a moment of defiance, and now…now he would have no choice but to remember his place. My place. A slow, predacious smile touched my lips, unseen by him, but surely felt in the sudden tension that stiffened his spine.

“Brian,” I purred. “Did you truly believe, even for a moment, that I would tolerate such…well…nonsense?” He remained silent. Good. Fear, respect, anticipation – all blended into a potent melange. My gaze swept over him, from the dark hair falling into his eyes to the vulnerable curve of his neck. This was where he belonged: at my mercy, awaiting my command.

Continue reading “Brian Must Be Punished” →

Oh My Gourd

Posted 2 weeks ago by Francie

Oh my gourd

Francie 1844-332-2639 xXx 208

I may be a white bitch, but I’m not your typical white bitch. Sure, I love a good pumpkin patch trip in October like the rest of them, but my intent is much different. I dragged my simp to the local pumpkin patch and forced him to walk around the options.

We were looking for a medium-sized gourd. Not too big, not too small. I was partial to the snowball pumpkins, but for some reason, every time I held one up to his crotch, he would look around in sheer panic. “Oh my God, Mistress, stop.”

“How will we know it’s the right size if I don’t test it?”

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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” →

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

“Dr. Julie, Can you help me? I have a confession to make. I’m a married, straight man. But I have a deep, dark secret that I’ve never admitted to anyone before. Not even myself. I’m not sure if it’s a fantasy or a fetish. But I can’t stop thinking about it, no matter how hard I try. I’m so ashamed to admit it, but I fantasize about cock. I dream about what it tastes like, what it would feel like in my mouth, even what it would feel like inside of me. But I love my wife Dr. Julie. I’m so confused. Why do I want to drink cum so badly? The thought of a face, ass, and mouth full of cum turns me on more than anything else. I feel guilty admitting that when I have sex with my wife, I fantasize about cock. What’s wrong with me, Dr. Julie? I feel so flawed. Can you cure me?”

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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.

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Sissy's Adult Store Trip

Lea 1844-332-2639 Ext. 244

“I don’t think I can get out of the car like this.” The sissy blinked heavy fake lashes at me, and I laughed. It’s not like he had a choice. We’d dressed him like the sissy slut he was going to be and driven to the Adult store on the corner. The popular one with the theater in the back.

The frilly pink dress barely covered his thighs when he sat, but when he stood, the thick padding of his double diapered ass would lift it and show everyone his heavy diaper. “We drove all this way. Get out.” I slammed the door and waited by the front of the vehicle for my sissy to gather the courage it would take to step out of the car.

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cock witch

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Men come to me, drawn by the currents of rumor and raw, aching need. They know my reputation, whispers of the witchy domme whose pleasure is a consuming flame, and whose displeasure…well, that’s where the real magic happens. I don’t suffer fools, nor do I suffer inadequacy. My appetites are vast, a cavernous hunger that few men can truly fill.

They always approach me the same way, these eager, trembling submissives, offering themselves, their bodies, their very essence, hoping to be the one to finally quench my thirst. These men, they know the risks. They sign an invisible pact with their hopeful eyes and bated breath: absolute surrender, absolute consent to my judgment.

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Amber Chaperons Alexus' Professional Hypno-Therapy

Trans Goddess Alexus 1844-332-2639 Ext 349

Playing in one’s mind can be a perilous game. For the boy who granted access, that is. Russel came to me a while back because he’d fallen into a trap. He allowed a wicked Mistress into his mind, and she planted triggers, making it impossible for him to date. He was nervous around women and thought that if hypnosis got him into that situation, just maybe it could also get him out.

On my couch, he found utter relaxation. His mind welcomed me in, and I made it my playground. Erasing some triggers, planting new ones, and making him my toy while his mind was putty between my fingers. Russel, however, began to question the professionalism of our sessions after going home to find cum in his pants after every therapy hour.

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