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

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”

Cuck Conquests

cuck blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I carefully orchestrated opportunities for my new boyfriend to witness my infidelity. I’d invite my conquests over for dinner, making sure he caught a glimpse of them walking up our driveway or lingering in our backyard. The look of anguish on his face was music to my ears, fueling my desire to push him further into despair.

I’d take my lovers to intimate gatherings he’d planned, savoring the jealous glares he sent my way. Our sex life became a battleground, with me alternating between tenderness and cruelty, keeping him perpetually off balance. I reveled in the power I held, knowing that beneath his bravado, he was slowly losing his grip on the relationship.

Continue reading “Cuck Conquests”

Yoga Bitch Beat Down

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

My phone went off a few times during yoga, and she kept looking back at me with a stink eye. Rolling her eyes and huffing without actually saying anything. When we got into the locker room, she shoved past me and mumbled, “Rude.”

I  chuckled a little to my friends and cocked my head. “Um, excuse me, BITCH, did you have something to say to my face?”

She looked me up and down dismissively, obviously thinking she’s better than me. That’s when I started to twist my long hair up into a messy bun, knowing where this was going, and she snarks off that she can’t relax if rude people keep their phone volume on during class. I didn’t intend to beat your wife’s ass after Yoga class, but honestly, she asked for it.

Continue reading “Yoga Bitch Beat Down”

car

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Mommy was taking Tami on a special car ride. She told Tami to behave and got her dressed in a beautiful pink frilly sissy dress, with her pwastic pants underneath, and little ankle socks, mary janes, and a beautiful pink sissy bow. Mommy Anna brought Tami over to the car and tried to shove her baby girl in her car seat but Tami began to kick, kick, kick profusely. That’s when Mommy gave Tami her final warning.

Continue reading “Tami’s Car Ride”

wetting in public

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was just minding my own business, while trying to navigate the bustling aisles of the local superstore. Which, let’s be honest, is already a comedic goldmine on any given day. My basket was precariously stacked with various impulse buys when I noticed a dude a few feet ahead of me acting a little…uh…shifty.

He was wearing these beige cargo shorts. In hindsight, they didn’t exactly help camouflage the emerging situation. He kept adjusting his stance, almost like he was doing a subtle, internal dance battle with himself. I initially just thought he had a really itchy butt. Or was perhaps auditioning for a very niche interpretive dance troupe in the cereal aisle. But then I spotted a distinct, darkening patch at the front of his shorts.

Continue reading “Cleanup In Aisle 7”

The Casino

finally

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna got a gig at a local Casino as a Cocktail waitress. She prowled around every night amongst high rollers and whores looking for someone to play with. Finally, she stumbled upon a kind gentleman. She offered him a drink, and he obliged.

Continue reading “The Casino”

cuckold

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

When it comes to men, nothing gets my heart racing quite like the idea of cuckolding them. The thought of an alpha male, confident and in control, losing his dominance to a stronger rival – it’s just the thing to get me wet! So, often, I set out to make it happen.

It started with my boyfriend’s friend, a strapping young man with a cocky attitude. I’d catch him staring at me when we were out together, and I could sense his attraction. I played the game, flirting with him innocently at first, then with increasing boldness. I could see the tension building between us, and my boyfriend was entirely oblivious to it! Until he wasn’t. lol

Continue reading “Cuckolding Them Because I Can”

balls

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna got asked out, and gawked at almost everywhere she went. She couldn’t even pump gas, or walk to the corner store without getting hollered at. She was so seductive, so slutty and hot all at the same time.

Continue reading “Miss Anna’s New Cuck”

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”