CBT With Puppet

cbt

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Puppet, a man I barely knew, was insisting I watch him as he pleasured himself. The audacity! I had only met him a few days prior at a mutual friend’s dinner party. But there he was, undressing in front of me, his lustful eyes pleading for me to stay.

“What’s gotten into you, Puppet?” I asked, trying to sound firm despite the nervous flutter in my chest. “We just met. This isn’t appropriate.” But he was relentless. “Just this once, Stella. I promise I won’t ask again,” he whispered, his hands already working to free his erection. “Please, I need to cum. My wife will be home any minute and…and I can’t help myself.”

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cuckold

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I have a type. Specifically, I have two types. There’s Type A: The distinguished gentleman, preferably with a full head of silver hair, a penchant for single malt scotch, and a portfolio that could rival a small nation’s GDP. These men are wonderful conversationalists, masters of the five-star reservation, and possess a certain gravitas that only comes with decades of accrued wisdom (and even more accrued wealth). They also, almost without exception, have the libido of a particularly sluggish snail.

Then there’s Type B: The strapping twenty-something, all rippling abs, boundless energy, and an unshakeable belief that life is one long montage from a sports drink commercial. These men are less interested in discussing the nuances of global economics and more interested in, well, nuances. And by nuances, I mean anything that involves their cock.

Continue reading “Richard, The Silver Haired Cuck”

glory hole blog

Jamie 1-844-332-2639 ext 461

“You won’t believe the night I had, Jamie,” Randy’s voice crackled, already a little hoarse, buzzing with the afterglow of his nocturnal adventures. He was a creature of the shadows, and his stories were stained with the same grime. I sat at my kitchen table, the half-eaten remains of a microwave meal cooling in front of me. Randy, on the other hand, was sitting in his car, still slick with the memory of anonymous mouths and urgent hands.

“Got a new spot,” he continued, excitedly. “Back of the old cinema, you know the one? Dark. Perfect. There was this big guy, hairy hands. Didn’t even say a word, just went for it.” He launched into the details, the hot breath, the rough stubble, the frantic rhythm against the plywood partition. He painted the scene with such visceral honesty, I could almost smell the stale sex and the cheap cleaner.

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extra-terrestrial blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

They say the oldest profession adapts to anything. Mon Dieu, they were not wrong. Here I am, French as a baguette, running my little ’boutique sensuelle’ on Rue St. Dennis in beautiful Montreal (sweet bebe, you thought I was Parisienne French, didn’t you?). The clients? Well, that’s where it gets…interesting. You see, most of them aren’t human. They’re not even from planet earth.

Take tonight. My appointment, a Xylorian (pronounced “Sy-lor-ee-anne”) named Gleep, looked like a particularly disgruntled pile of amethyst-colored jello. Four eye-stalks, all twitching. He’s from a species that primarily communicates via bioluminescent mucus, which, let me tell you, makes for some truly messy pillow talk. And the smell! Like fermented algae and existential dread, even with the station’s advanced atmospheric scrubbers. But, c’est la vie, Gleep pays in rare crystals, which are currently trending on the galactic market. He also (naturally) leave quite the trail of slime after he cums.

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Stephanie 844-332-2639 Ext 454

Pt. 1

“Tami, Mommy Stephi’s got a special surprise for you!” I said walking into the nursery. “special surpise? Oh Mommy Stephi whats the surprise?” I could already tell by the sound of her voice Tami was extremely excited. I smiled, a devious grin on my face. Sissy baby Tami had no idea what was in store for her. 

“Oh you’ll see baby Tami, but we have to get ready to go, the surprise is located somewhere else…” I giggled slyly. “lets get you ready to go” I said walking over to the changing table. I grabbed the diaper change bag and started to pack all the necessities. “I don’t know Mommy you seem to be very secretive about this surprise. I think you may be planning something bad.”

I laughed “you’ll just have to wait and see Tami, I’m not going to ruin the surprise.” After picking out a cute purple dress and purple socks I laid a very fussy Tami onto the change table to get her ready to go. 

“Mommy Stephi, why do we have to travel for the surprise. I wanna know I wanna know now!” Tami started fussing more, she just had to know what Mommy had in store.

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Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403

Last week I snooped though Mommy Anna’s room and found her special gummies.  She caught me and told me they weren’t for little girls.  Mommy told me to stay out of her special gummies or I’d end up over her knee.  My naughty mind developed a plan to get my little brother Ronnie in trouble.  I told him to follow me into Mommy’s room.  Then I showed him the special gummies she had hidden in her drawer.  I convinced him to eat one.  As he chewed, I giggled and asked him if he wanted another one.  He took another one out of the bottle and chewed it all up.

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Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

He owned a laser hair removal company. It was a slow afternoon, and he was in a talkative mood. I think he was just lonely and wanted someone to talk to. He told me that he was so appreciative of me for listening. Then he told me that he was going to give me a lifetime of free full body laser hair removal. I couldn’t believe it. I’d always wanted laser hair removal. But it’s so expensive. I thanked him profusely. He knew how excited and appreciative I was. That made him happy. He said that it made him feel so good to be able to reciprocate for my kindness.

It felt almost too good to be true. But after making the appointment I knew it was. She asked me if I wanted numbing cream. But I told her no. I felt like my pain tolerance was okay. And everything I read said it feels like a rubberband popping you. That didn’t sound so bad. But boy, was I wrong!

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whore

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Ah, the whispers. They follow me, rustling through the market stalls, fluttering down cobbled streets. “La Française,” they hiss, as if my origin were a mark of evil itself. “That tramp. She’s a lady of the night, you know.” And then the little tittering laughs, like dry leaves moving across the pavement.

Me? I just tuck a rogue curl behind my ear, adjust the scarf I found near the canal – a surprisingly chic silk, mind you – and flash them a smile. A wide, toothy grin that usually makes them flinch. Because, mon chéri, they’re right. Every last word of it. They call me Stella. Or sometimes, if they’re feeling particularly brave and convinced of their own moral superiority, “that hussy.” I don’t mind. A name is a name, and a hussy, well, a hussy knows how to live.

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sissy

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

In the early days, before we truly peeled back the layers of each other, his fascination with my past was almost insatiable. It wasn’t a judgmental interrogation, but a soft, probing quest for intimacy, as if understanding my pussy’s history was the key to understanding me.

“Your First boyfriend. What was his name?” he’d ask, his voice a low hum against my ear as we lay tangled in sheets, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. I told him, a name I hadn’t thought of in years. He listened, rapt. Then, “How old were you when you fucked him for the first time?” His eyes searched mine, not for shock value, but for the story behind the number.

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

“Dr. Julie, what should I do?” Those words just kept playing over and over again, through my head. We had fallen hard for each other. I had known each him for quite some time. But after his wife broke his heart, one thing led to another. And our professional relationship crossed the line. I was in deep. He had invited me to a luxury beachfront resort for the weekend. I couldn’t believe that he had gotten us a private cabana! We were having the most amazing evening. Dinner at the rooftop restaurant was so romantic. Then we took a quick dip in the private pool. We had to quickly retreat back into our cabana and our personal hot tub because of his raging boner. And before I knew it, the hot tub jets were sending me into complete ecstasy. That’s when all of a sudden, he asked if we could talk about his fetish. I had completely forgotten about his fetish! It’s as if my brain was on rewind and I saw it all over again. Our whirlwind romance had clouded my mind with too much dopamine. But he had indeed mentioned a fetish.

Continue reading ““Dr. Julie, What Should I do?” Part 4″