Category: fetish phone sex

Little Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

April Fool’s Day is always so much fun to me. I love playing pranks, teasing people, and just messing around with them. I mean there’s nothing wrong with having some playful fun, right? Well there is this customer at the breastaurant that has been annoying me for months. He’s always so cocky. So I thought April Fool’s Day was the perfect opportunity to get him back.  It first started out with him teasing me with my tips. Like he would ask me if I really deserved the tip or mess around and say nah, I’m not gonna give you a tip. Then just laugh, like he thinks he’s funny. He’s not, he’s a total jerk. A total loser. So I decided that he needed a taste of his own medicine. I turned the tables on him. As soon as he started teasing me about my tip, I started flirting with him. He started telling me that I hadn’t worked hard enough for a tip. Instead of waiting for him to laugh at his own joke, I started giggling, acting like I thought he was so funny.

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Melanie 1-844-33-CANDY ext 463

Tony came over to my house on Easter weekend to catch up. It’s a time for rebirth and renewals, and this is just what I needed. He came into my house and walked up to my room like he already knew the place. When he came upstairs, he found me in a purple satin and lace babydoll nighty. I was ready for some loving.

He came up behind me and started kissing on my neck and I could feel his hard on poking me in the back. He reached around and started groping my tits and pinching my nipples right as I reach around behind me so I could help him stroke his cock.

He was stroking lightly and slow, edging himself, but I wanted more from him. I told him to come around to my front so I could watch him stroke and guide him along. I put him down on his knees and guided him along. I told him to stroke faster and harder until he was on the edge of cumming and then demanded that he stop.

Continue reading “Guiding His Masturbation” →

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

J’s eyes flickered between my confident grin and Kayla’s confident stare. “Tell us what you want,” Kayla whispered. I could see a little smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. J swallowed, nervously. “I…um, want you to make weird sounds with your voices,” he said, in his deep boy voice. “And make me wear nipple clamps!”

Kayla and I looked at each other. “Weird sounds, huh?” I asked, with one eyebrow raised. “Maybe if you stopped using that awful boy voice and let Josie beg us for it, we’d be more willing to do as you wish…” Kayla tilted her head and leaned in, just barely touching J’s ear with her glossy red lips. “Yeah…maybe if Josie begged us for it…”

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Danika * (844) 332-2639 x 466

There is something inherently sexy about spring. The sun revives us, the earth itself working to become fertile; plants and birds alike come to life. There are numerous texts throughout history that speak of fertility rituals across every culture. I would like to focus on a particular work that is fueling my current fantasies. The Histories by Herodotus speaks of Sacred Sex Temples in Mesopotamia. At the start of spring, it is said that women would go to these sacred temples and wait until a man offered her money in exchange for access to her body. He would then fuck her in the sacred temples as an offering to the goddess Inanna.

I can’t even begin to tell you how wet it makes my panties, how much I want to touch myself at the thought of offering myself to a stranger in a Sacred Sex Temple.

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Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

“Please!” I wailed. My sweaty forehead dropped against my stretched-out bicep. A quick glance up proved the handcuffs looped around the grab handle of his F-350 weren’t coming undone any time soon. “Please, let me suck your cock!” I begged again as I tugged against the metal, hugging my wrists. I’d been pulling against them so much that red lines were appearing where the cuffs rubbed against my delicate wrist bones.

“No.” His voice was cool, calm, and collected when it washed over my exposed throat. He nibbled my overheated skin slowly as if he had all the time in the world to explore my body with his fingers and mouth. The toes of my sneakers barely scratched the surface of the dirt road he’d stopped in the middle of. Someone could drive by at any minute while he had me half naked, and handcuffed, dangling and on display from the passenger side grab handle.

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Melanie 1-844-33-CANDY ext 463

Marty called me to ask if I could do a last-minute session with him. He was begging me, telling me he really needed to see me. I thought he was being pathetic, but I told him if he came over tomorrow night, I could squeeze him in for a three-day session.

Friday rolled around and Marty showed up two hours early; boy was he desperate! I led him downstairs to my dungeon of fun and let him set up. That included stripping him of all his clothing and I put him in the corner cage until I was ready for him. What he didn’t know was that I wouldn’t be ready for him until Sunday!

Hours passed by and poor little Marty was waiting, wondering when I’d be back for him. The night turned into day, and Saturday was here before we knew it. He heard the sounds of my stiletto heels coming down the basement stairs. What surprised him the most was the hunk of man I brought down with me.

Continue reading “Spring Forward Towards Me” →

Puppet Master

Posted 6 days ago by Stella

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The only light in my apartment is a single bulb swinging from a loose cord. Puppet, my nickname for the man who walks the line between devotion and dread, is already waiting in my living room with his shoulders hunched as if he’s bracing for a storm he cannot see. His eyes remain fixed on the floorboards and I can hear his breath. It sounds shallow, like the rhythm of a heart that beats faster when it knows it is being watched.

“Stella,” he whispers, trembling. I smile and he flinches. The movement is tiny, but enough to tell me he is listening. The rules between us are more of a contract that’s etched in ink and fear. Obey, or the consequences will be more than a bruised ego. He knows the price of disobedience. Exile, humiliation, the kind of silence that follows you into the night.

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Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The night I first saw my new little sissy girl, Chrissy, she was perched on a cracked stool with her legs crossed so tightly that she seemed to be holding herself together with nothing but sheer will. Her hair was a clumsy knot of pink and violet extensions and her makeup was more of an attempt than it was a success. She had thick eyeliner that drooped, lipstick that was smeared, and her blush was in all of the wrong places. Her too‑small dress clung to her body like a second skin. She was, indeed, a bit of a hot mess.

We got to talking and she nervously asked me the magic question that all of my sissy girls eventually ask. “Do you think you could help me become beautiful?” There was something raw in the way she asked, though. She was very clearly yearning to be seen by a different kind of audience. She wanted not just beauty, but the kind of beauty that opened doors. The kind that turned the heads of men whose pockets were fatter than their morals.

Continue reading “Sissy Chrissy Wants To Be Beautiful” →

S.W.A.K

Posted 1 week ago by Francie

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

Do you remember when you started writing your first love notes? How you’d spill your secrets with ink, confident no one but the intended eyes would read them. Did you scribble “S.W.A.K” on the back, or was that something just girls did? Do you remember what it stood for?

Sealed with a kiss. Your confession of love and lust may have been sealed with a press of your lips to the envelope, but I hate to tell you the girl you sent it with shared your words. Even then, you were nothing but a laughing stock to women.

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Wedding Season

Posted 2 weeks ago by Roxy

Roxxxy 1(844) 332-2639 Ext 414

Wedding season is upon us. So the bachelor parties have been picking up. So far, I’ve been hired to do a few over the next couple of months. Most of them hire two or three dancers. But last weekend I had a solo gig. It turned out to be the craziest bachelor party that I’ve ever done. And it made me wonder if I should ever do one alone again. When I arrived, the butler showed me to the elevator. He told me that the party awaits me in the basement. The elevator took me to the cold, dark underground floor. I stepped out into a dark hallway and heard a faint mumble. I followed the sound to a huge, heavy, wooden door at the end of the hall. When I pulled the door open, it was so loud inside. Music and belligerent men yelling and being rowdy pierced the air. I quickly realized that it was a sound proof basement. The guys were young, early twenties, pumped with adrenaline and testosterone. You know, spoiled rotten, entitled types. They’ve grown up with way too much money and think they can do whatever they want.

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