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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BBC PDA

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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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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gooner

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was on the laptop in lingerie, as usual. Today’s appointment had just logged on. He wasn’t anything special, not like some of the others who tried to project an air of mystery or charm. This one was just average. Beige. The kind of man you’d pass on the street and forget instantly. He called himself “Braveheart’ in the chat, which felt ironic given how timid his actual keystrokes felt. He wasn’t a high roller, but consistent. Enough to make the time worthwhile. He didn’t want much in terms of conversation, and the pictures he requested were merely a precursor, an hors d’oeuvre to the real meal.

What he truly craved, what he paid for, were the words. Not just any words, but those specific phrases, strung together just so, meticulously crafted and delivered with a precise cadence. The ones that unlocked something in him, a sort of mental key turning in a lock. “Get worse, loser.” I’d type them out because I didn’t need to see his face to know what was happening on his end. The slight delays in his replies,

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pegging

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I had just gotten home from a long day at work, and as I settled into my favorite armchair, my phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number. “Hello?” I answered, a bit hesitant. “Hi, is this Cory Dae?” a soft, timid voice inquired. “Yes, it is. Who am I speaking with?” “This is Emily. We met a few weeks ago at the coffee shop near your office. You were kind enough to help me when I accidentally spilled my coffee.”

I vaguely remembered the incident, but I couldn’t recall much about her other than she was a sissy. “Oh, yes. Emily. How can I help you?” “Well, Miss, I need your help again. I’m afraid I had an accident today, and I’m embarrassed to say that I wet myself in public.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. “That’s quite alright, Emily. It happens to the best of us. Are you okay now?”

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abdlCory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I opened the door to find James standing on the porch, his shoulders slumped slightly. He was a regular, and I knew the signs. His red-rimmed eyes suggested a rough week, and the way he clutched his backpack to his chest told me he was feeling small and vulnerable. “Hey, James,” I said, offering a warm smile. “Come on in. I’ve got your favorite juice box chilling.” He shuffled inside, kicking off his sneakers near the door. The house was carefully curated to be a comforting space. Soft rugs, pastel colors, and a complete absence of sharp edges. It was designed to soothe.

“Rough week?” I asked gently, leading him to the oversized, plush armchair in the living room. He nodded, unable to meet my gaze. “Work’s been awful. My boss is breathing down my neck.” He finally looked up, his eyes filled with distress. “I just… I messed up and forgot a really important email.” “Everyone makes mistakes, James. It’s okay. That’s why we have second chances, and erasers, and…mamas.” I gently stroked his hair. It was soft and fine, not like a grown man’s hair at all. “Tell me about it.”

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mom

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It’s a confession I never expected to hear, not even from Julio. We’ve been friends since college, seen each other through bad breakups, questionable fashion choices, and career crises. We’re the kind of friends who can sit in comfortable silence for hours, knowing the other is just there. But this? This was uncharted territory.

“I know it sounds wrong,” Julio mumbled, swirling the ice in his drink. We were at O’Malley’s, our usual haunt, the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses providing a thin veil of normalcy around the confessional booth we’d inadvertently created. Julio, with his easy smile and genuine concern for others, was suddenly someone I barely recognized. He sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. “It started a few weeks ago. I was helping Mom clean out the attic. You know how she is, holding onto everything.”

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a grown man

Bartholomew

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It’s not every day you see a grown man sporting a full-on tuxedo with, shall we say, a little extra padding in the rear. But then again, my relationship with Bartholomew is anything but ordinary. He’s my big boy, emphasis on the big, and sometimes, bless his heart, his body just malfunctions.

Last Saturday was our friend Brenda’s annual “Soiree of Sophistication,” and naturally, I wanted Bartholomew to make a splash. Hence, the tuxedo. He looked dashing, kinda like heèd accidentally wandered into a James Bond film. The problem? Bartholomew gets cripplingly shy in social situations. His default setting is “awkward,” and apparently, his anxiety expresses itself through wetness.

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Peggy

peggy

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

In the privacy of my luxurious penthouse, I stood tall in my stilettos, commanding attention in my sheer lingerie. My gaze fell on Peggy, a man of power and prestige, yet here, in my domain, he was just a man with an insatiable desire. “Take off your clothes, Peggy,” I demanded, my voice laced with authority. “You know the drill.”

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with lust. “Only for you, Cory,” he replied, shedding his expensive suit, revealing his toned body. His dick stood at attention, eager and ready. I walked over to my collection of toys, my fingers tracing over the various sizes. I picked up a large, black dildo, turning to face Peggy. His eyes widened, a mix of fear and excitement. “You’re going to love this,” I promised, my voice dripping with seduction.

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Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

 I love my place, but like any building, sometimes things need a little TLC. Fortunately for me, I  discovered I have condo maintenance with benefits. Recently, my toilet started acting up, so I put in a request for maintenance. I was expecting some gruff old handyman, but ohhh was I pleasantly surprised…

The doorbell rang and there I was, feeling extra frisky in just my lacy red bra and matching panties. I swung open the door to reveal a tall, lean young man who looked like he just stepped out of Abercrombie & Fitch. “Hi there, I’m Jake from condo maintenance,” he said, cheeks flushing as his eyes went wide. I smiled and purred, “Well hello there, handsome. I’m Diana. Come on in.”

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