Category: pain and torment phonesex

Needy Sluts

Posted 2 weeks ago by Rita

Needy Sluts

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

I’m a busy girl. I don’t have time for all the needy sluts clamoring for my attention. One of my favorite ways to keep the horny toys occupied while I go about my business is to handcuff him to a rolling office chair with his pants down to his ankles. I use packing tape to secure a silver bullet to the underside of his hard cock. Not high enough for the toy to buzz the V in the base of his head, but just under it. The remote is also taped to the inside of his thigh. So accessible… If your hands aren’t cuffed behind your back!

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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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Heartless

Posted 3 months ago by Stella

mean domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

They call me cruel. Heartless. Good. That’s where I want them. Shivering, exposed, stripped of illusion and power. Obedience is a language, after all. I don’t break men. That’s too soft a word. I refine them. But only if they survive the heat.

Last night, a new sub came to me. He was tall and tattooed. The kind of man who thinks his confidence is armor. “I want to be yours,” he said, with curiosity in his eyes. I stared at him and smiled, thinking oh, sweetheart. You have no idea what you’re offering.

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Daddy, No!

Posted 3 months ago by Amber

spank

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Daddy is really strict when it comes to what I wear. Every day, he inspects my outfit and I can’t leave the house without his approval. The other day, I snuck out when he wasn’t home. I was wearing nothing more than a tight black tube top, a matching skirt that barely covered my ass, and sheer black thong. All was well until my idiot brother saw me with a much older guy and told Daddy about it.

Daddy was waiting for me when I got home. “It’s just an outfit, Dad.” I said, as I walked past him to get to my room. “Just an outfit?” He stated, furiously. “This isn’t a game, Amber. Stop being a little bitch.” I cackled and he grabbed my wrist, holding me back. “Turn around.” His face was stone cold as he said it. I hesitated. “What? Why?”

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Isabelle 1844-33-candy ext 464

More than anything, I need the bound feeling of the rough hemp biting into my soft skin. I cherish that intense moment when the rope tightens, leaving me immobile and entirely at the trigger’s mercy. My breath catches as the first knot ensnares me in a web of sweet restraint and dark longing. It’s a dizzying high, knowing that I am helpless, fully exposed, and entirely vulnerable to whatever twisted pleasure comes next.

There’s something addicting about being wrapped up tight, every knot a tease, every pull of the rope a reminder that I’m not the one in control, even when I pretend I am. That tension between obedience and defiance, that’s the fun part of the play, I’ll provoke just enough, twist, and pout, maybe talk back, but only see what it takes to make him pull the rope tighter.

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domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Tonight’s client is younger than usual. He’s here for punishment, though he doesn’t yet know it. All the young ones start with that (stupid) hope in their chest, thinking they’ll be able to tame me. Yeah, right. Once they’re inside of my web, they quickly realize the error of their ways.

“Bonjour, mon chéri,” I purr. He shivers when I touch his chin, as my nails dig into his jaw. “You’re here to obey. N’est-ce pas?” He nods, swallowing hard. Good. They always think they can handle more than they can.

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Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357

It’s in one’s best interest to avoid pain. In fact, it’s our most basic instinct to protect our bodies. Self-preservation and all that. However, it seems Sweet lovin’ Kayla Cumsalot lacks that very key component. As most Sadists do, he made himself known quickly. Lucas was frustrated, and he wanted to hurt something, better yet, someone. He’s a sadist, not a monster; he did warn Kayla before allowing her to submit to him.

He told the stupid girl he was in a foul mood. A mood meant to inflict so much pain that the cops would be called if anyone were to hear the wails from her pretty lips. This should have made her run or at least think twice, but not Kayla. Her pussy pulsed at the idea of hurting for him. She didn’t even ask for a safe word when she submitted to the sadist.

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nipple play Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Liam was frantic when he finally showed up for our play date. He was always a little sweaty, but this time he was breathing hard. When I asked, he said it was because he ran all the way to my house, but I like to think it was really just a mix of adrenaline and paranoia from sneaking around. He was, after all, my best friend’s brother.

“I only have forty minutes, Amber. Seriously,” he whispered, backing me against the door and already burying his face in my neck. “Forty minutes is plenty for the main event,” I purred, pushing him back slightly so I could appreciate the view. Liam is a bit of a walking contradiction. He’s a quiet, bookish engineer by day, and a total submission demon by night.

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domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

People ask me, constantly, why I do this. It is about understanding the fundamental truth of the human psyche: how much they desire the total absence of responsibility. For me, being a Domme—la Déesse, if you prefer the proper terminology—is the only way I can truly breathe. Everything else is noise. But when someone kneels before me, the world outside vanishes. There is only the weighted silence of utter obligation.

I love the control, of course. Who wouldn’t love the knowledge that a single, slow lift of my eyebrow can shatter a man’s composure? But that’s just the starting point. The real allure is what comes after the initial submission: the raw trust. They put themselves and their entire emotional landscape into my hands. They need me to be sharper, wiser, and crueler than they are capable of being themselves.

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Spanksgiving

Posted 5 months ago by Amber

spanking

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

This is the story about the origin of Spanksgiving. The kitchen was thick with steam that smelled overwhelmingly of simmering basil and crushed tomatoes. Thanksgiving wasn’t complete without Mommy Anna’s infamous Neapolitan sugo, and Ronnie was slumped over the heavy cast iron pot.

“Don’t stop stirring, Ronnie,” Mommy Anna had warned. “We have company coming and this sugo cannot stick. Keep that heat low and that spoon moving!” I slipped into the kitchen hoping for a leftover cookie, but stopped in my tracks when I saw my brother. “Ronnie, you won’t believe it,” I whispered, leaning close to the stove.

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