Category: fetish phonesex

Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459

I’m a 20-year-old girlie with a wild side who’s always ready to spice things up. And let me tell you, my college pussy is as tight as they come. I mean, I’ve been told it’s like a vice grip down there. Not to brag or anything.

One day, I was walking back from the library, lost in thought about some lecture I had just attended on the Renaissance. Suddenly, a cute guy from my biology class, Max, caught my eye. He smirked and asked if I wanted to grab a coffee. What began as a friendly chat turned flirty and raunchy pretty quickly. So we decided to head back to my dorm.

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feet

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I knew what Daddy wanted. There’s only one thing that always brought that soft, knowing smile to his lips. Especially because Mommy hated it more than anything else in the world! No shoes, never shoes for this. Daddy told me I had to go to my closet and throw all of my shoes in the trash. I walked barefoot through the garden, deliberately, slowly. Across the freshly turned earth where Daddy had planted his roses, so that my soles were black and soil hid between my toes.

When I stepped back into the kitchen, I walked directly to Daddy, standing between his spread knees as he sat in his worn armchair. I extended my feet, crusted with garden debris. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he slowly, deliberately, picked up my ankle and lowered his head. His tongue was warm, sweeping away the grit, the soil, the evidence of my outdoor adventure.

Continue reading “I knew what Daddy wanted.” →

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

Now that Halloween is over, I can comfortably begin decorating for Christmas. I really hate rushing the holidays since they are so special, but Christmas is really my favorite. This year, I hired a handyman to hang the lights along the eaves. A professional would better execute my vision. Our neighborhood was having a decorating contest, and I wanted to win.

My friend Candy was over when the handyman showed up. We were pleased to see he was about our age and very good-looking. Not some potbellied older man who’d fall off the ladder halfway through tacking my display up.

Continue reading “Humiliating The Handyman” →

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.”

Continue reading “crawling with their money” →

abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Alright, sweet pea, let’s get you all fresh and clean,” I cooed. My voice dripped with a syrupy sweetness that would put a pancake house to shame. The moment I’d unsnapped his onesie, the undeniable evidence of my ABDL’s recent ‘accomplishment’ announced itself with a potent, aromatic cloud that could have wilted a plastic plant. I fanned the air dramatically, making a big show of it. “Whoa there, partner! Since when is my special little stinker REALLY a stinker?” I asked, as my eyes watered slightly. I fought back a gag that was equal parts disgust and laughter.

With the practiced efficiency of a seasoned pit crew chief, I gathered my arsenal: a fresh, crinkly diaper adorned with cartoon characters that seemed to mock my current situation, a mountain of wipes that felt chillingly inadequate, and a tub of cream that promised to create a barrier more impenetrable than a bank vault. I took a deep, fortifying breath—through my mouth, obviously—and got to work. The tabs gave way with their familiar ripping sound, a prelude to the grand unveiling. “And now, for the main event,” I whispered, my tone that of a nature documentary host

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Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403

“Miss Zoey, can you make me a butt cake?” My little sissy girl asked me one day at my sissy daycare.  “What are you talking about?” I asked.  She took out a pencil and a little pad of paper and wrote “bukkake” and then turned the pad around to show me.  “See, butt cake!” She proudly pronounced.  “Well first, it’s pronounced bukkake.  But it’s a very special kind of cake.  You’d have to help me make it.” I told her.  Her little sissy eyes lit up and she nodded excitedly.  “I’d love to help you make bukkake, Miss Zoey!” She shouted and bounced up and down on her toes. Continue reading “Sissy Baby’s First Bukkake Adventure” →

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

This year’s Halloween party was going to be unforgettable. I’d planned it carefully, picking the perfect theme and costumes for me and my sissy. I combed through his wardrobe, picking out a skimpy latex mini-dress and thigh-high stilettos. I styled his hair in a messy, sex-kitten updo and applied a bold red lip. My sissy’s curves looked heavenly in that little number. I thought he was the perfect slut for our soiree.

Once he was all dolled up, I set to work on my own look. I opted for a vampy witch costume, black lace and leather, with a strategically placed cutout that showed just a hint of cleavage. We were both going for a wickedly sexy aesthetic, perfect for a night of debauchery.

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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” →

Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459

As the moon cast an eerie glow on my dorm room, I couldn’t shake the thrill that coursed through my veins. It was the weekend before Halloween, and I found myself craving a certain type of excitement. The kind that only and older man could bring me.

I spent hours getting ready, my heart racing with anticipation. My brown eyes sparked as I painted my lips a deep, crimson red. I slipped into a black lace bra and thong, the fabric barely containing my perky breasts and pert ass. A sheer, ruffly skirt hugged my hips, and I added a pair of thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels to complete the sultry look.

Continue reading “A Certain Type of Excitement” →

My Cucked ATM Buys Me A Car

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

I twisted the key into the small chastity cage and smiled up at DaveATM. “This is really going to be the best birthday month ever.” He grunted when my hand fondled his balls. Tugging things around to make sure the cage was in its proper place.

“Whatever makes you happy, Princess.” I could tell he was already becoming frustrated with the cage, or maybe it was the knowledge that he wouldn’t be unlocked until my birthday. “Ready to go to the dealership?” He asked as he tugged up his pants. I jumped to my feet and clapped my hands. His spoiling me was my favorite thing ever, and I couldn’t wait to pick out my new car. Little did my ATM know that the car dealer who would be helping us pick out my brand-new vehicle would have a giant BBC that would make me scream as he signed the paperwork and dripped through his cage.

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