Oh My Gourd

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?”

Continue reading “Oh My Gourd”

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?”

Continue reading “Dr. Julie, I Have A Confession”

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”

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.

Continue reading “Sissy’s Adult Store Trip”

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.

Continue reading “The Whispers Are True”

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.

Continue reading “Amber Chaperons Alexus’ Professional Hypno-Therapy”

voyeur ********* play story

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

“Jackson, you’ve been a very bad boy…” I purred into the microphone, my voice a low, seductive whisper. Jackson’s eyes darted around the room, searching for the source of my voice. He knew I was watching, but he didn’t know how. I could see the panic in his eyes. The fear of being caught! What a fantastic way to keep him in line, I thought to myself. No one likes a confident sub!

“On your knees, Jackson,” I commanded. He hesitated for a moment before looking towards the door where his wife was busy in the kitchen. “Now,” I added, my tone leaving no room for argument. He dropped to his knees, as his heart pounded in his chest. I could see it, the way his shirt moved with each beat, the way his breath hitched in his throat. I watched as he reached for his belt, his hands shaking as he undid the buckle.

Continue reading ““You’ve Been a Very Bad Boy, Jackson””

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”

sph

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

My phone buzzed, displaying a name I’d purged from my active memory: Max. We used to date, for a brief, almost embarrassing, period. That was, until I discovered just how minuscule his dick actually is. We’re talking the size of a chapstick tube, maybe even a used one at that. Our relationship, if you could even call it that, ended abruptly after I realized my needs were just going to gather dust, indefinitely.

His voice on the other end was a pathetic, wavering mess. He started apologizing, rambling about how he’d messed up, how he missed me, how he’d changed. He even dared to beg me to take him back. My mind, however, was already back in my apartment, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I’d actually have to fake it again. The answer was a definitive, resounding no. I can’t date a guy who is utterly incapable of satisfying me! And what did he mean by “changed”? Did he have a donor cock surgically attached to his tiny little weiner?

Continue reading “I Wish Max Had a Bigger Dick”