Category: fetish phonesex

Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403

One must be careful and alert when hiking through the Appalachia woods.  There live many type of cryptids and one never know when she’ll accidentally stumble upon one.  I hiked a trail one sunny summer day.  Lost in the feel of the forest around me.  I love the press of the trees enclosing me in the lush greenery of themselves and the fauna on the forest floor beneath my feet.  Distracted by the natural beauty around me, I suddenly heard the unexpected snap of a twig nearby.  I stopped and listened more closely to determine whether it might be other hikers enjoying the amazing energetic day.  But as I listened intently and looked around me, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye.  By the time I’d fully turned my attention toward the movement, a Sasquatch had stepped out from behind a tree about eight feet in front of me.

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abdl blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

They call my place “The Sanctuary,” though some regulars lovingly whisper “Cory’s Corner of Bliss.” This isn’t your typical chain spa with weird music and generic oils. My space is more intimate, filled with the scent of sandalwood and a quiet hum of understanding. My clients, mostly men in their late 30s and beyond, come here for something more specific. Something they can’t find just anywhere.

My standard massage is good, really good. I’ve got hands that can melt knots you didn’t even know you had. But what truly sets me apart, what brings them back, is the “Comfort Care” add-on. It’s my little secret, a unique service that caters to a very particular kind of release. When a client opts for Comfort Care, I see their eyes light up a little, a mix of apprehension and quiet longing. That’s when I bring out the softest, thickest of adult diapers. It’s never forced, always an offered choice, explained delicately as a way to fully surrender, to shed the burdens of adulthood, even just for an hour.

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pantyhose blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I met Mike at a private party, where I was working as a professional tease. He was a handsome man, with dark eyes that held an intensity I found irresistible. I was wearing a sheer black negligee that left little to the imagination, and beneath it, a pair of silky black pantyhose. I could see the desire burning in his eyes as I strutted towards him, my hips swaying seductively. “Do you like what you see?” I asked, running my hands over my curves.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving my body. I laughed softly, then reached out and grabbed his hand, placing it on my thigh. “Feel that?” I whispered, as his fingers traced the delicate pattern of the pantyhose. “That’s what you’ve been craving, isn’t it?” He nodded again. I could feel his dick straining against his pants, and I knew I had him right where I wanted him. After leading him to an oversized lounge chair, I pushed him down onto it and climbed on top of him. I straddled his waist, my pussy just inches from his throbbing cock.

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domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Bonjour! Je suis Stella, your newest Candy Girl! I want to tell you about a call I did with my latest victim, a man named Ethan. He was on the other end of the line, moaning loudly as he listened to my commands. “Ethan,” I purred, my voice dripping with a mix of authority and desire. “Are you ready to be punished?” He stuttered, his voice was shaking with anticipation. “Y-yes, Stella.”

“Good boy,” I cooed, my fingers tracing the curve of my full lips. “Now, I want you to take off all your clothes. I want you to feel the cool air against your skin. Can you do that for me?” He hesitated, but I could hear the rustling of fabric over the phone as he took off his shirt and underpants. “I…I’m naked, Stella.” He said, nervously. “Mmm, good,” I hummed, my hand drifting down to the hem of my silk robe. “Now, I want you to touch yourself. Imagine it’s my hand on your dick, stroking you slowly.”

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Fairy

TS Alexus 844-332-2639 EXT 349

Frotting with a fairy. (Sigh) I bet when you first looked at me, the last thing you thought you would hear yourself say to me is, “Your cock is so much bigger than mine!” But here we are. Your smaller cock in my hand mashed up against the throbbing thick meat of my shecock. I’m stroking us together while verbally abusing you, and you are struggling not to cum all over the velvety smooth head of my cock.

Using both of my hands, I lock our cocks together. My slender, feminine hips humping my hard cock up and down between my fingers and your smaller dick. It feels good. You had no idea you were a fairy bitch until I put you in your place.

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BBC PDA

Posted 2 months ago by Felicity

PDA

Phonesex with Felicity 1844-332-2639 x 270  

Have you ever been walking down the street and saw a man so beautiful you had to stop? Not just an attractive man, I’m talking full-on Adonis. Yesterday, I took a few hours to do some shopping. I was by myself and enjoying the peace and quiet. Not looking to express some Hot, BBC, PDA, but when it happens it happens. Most people were home BBQ-ing with family or whatnot so the shops weren’t busy at all. When I saw that black God, he saw my jaw drop.

He must be used to women and men alike stopping to stare at him because he beckoned me over with a finger. Like a lust-filled lasso, that curling finger drew me in. He lifted his shirt to show off a six-pack of ebony abs and I swear my knees buckled.

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Lingerie Masturbation

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

When he bought me lingerie, I thought it was because he wanted to worship my perfect body while I was wearing it. Like a good little servant, I thought he purchased the beautiful nightie as an offering to his Goddess. Oh, how wrong I was. He’d bought us matching baby dolls, and his intent wasn’t to worship me but the lingerie itself.

The matching baby dolls were made of the softest pink silk I’d ever seen. We dressed in them and took turns complimenting each other. His was tighter around his wide waist, and it wasn’t nearly long enough to cover his throbbing bulge in the matching silk panties.

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findom blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Corey was already kneeling when I walked into the living room, a soft, almost imperceptible tremor running through his body. He was dressed precisely as I’d instructed: an old, faded t-shirt that was clearly too small for him, barely covering the lacy bra I’d made him wear underneath. His hair, usually neatly styled, was a mess, indicating he’d spent the morning cleaning my apartment, just as I’d ordered.

“Good morning, little piggy,” I purred, settling onto the plush velvet armchair opposite him. He swallowed hard, his eyes – wide and pleading – fixed on my designer slippers. “Good morning, Mistress.” His voice was raspy, laced with a familiar mix of shame and fervent eagerness. It was a sound I’d grown to enjoy, the sound of a man willingly surrendering his power, his dignity, his very livelihood. “Such a compliant sissyboy, aren’t you?” I let the words hang in the air, watching him flinch slightly, then visibly melt into the humiliation. “Have you been a good little finsub and followed my instructions to the letter?”

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butt

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Some guys just really like my butt. I know, I know. It’s a common thing, maybe even a cliché, BUTT…there are levels to it, aren’t there? And then there was him. HIM. Most guys, they like the curve, the shape, the way it looks in a tight pair of jeans or a silk dress. Standard appreciation. But this one? He was an ass man with a very particular vision.

He wanted me to dress up. Not for a party, not for a night out. Just for him, and for the specific fantasy he’d crafted in his mind. A patent black catsuit. Gleaming. And patent black stiletto boots, so high they practically dared me to fall. My nails, already long, were sharpened and painted a deep, dangerous crimson. When I looked in the mirror, I wasn’t just a woman in an outfit; I was a creature. A typical superhero villainess, absolutely, from the sharp lines of the suit to the predacious gleam in my own eyes. And I felt like one, too. Powerful. Unattainable. Menacing, even.

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Your Mouth Is a Cunt

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

My finger traces the outline of your lower lip. Drool cascades down your chin as the open-mouth gag keeps your hole stretched wide. There are tears of struggle leaking down your cheeks, and more blink free when I glide two of my fingers along the surface of your tongue and right down your throat. My fingers wiggle in the back of your throat, and I release an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

“You’re still gagging way too easily.” I snatch my fingers free and wipe your spittle on your cheek. Mixing it with your tears. “Fuck his cunt again.” I bark at the throat-training bull standing beside me.

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