Category: phone sex Mistress

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

He’s trembling on the cold linoleum floor, with his head bowed and rope coiled around his wrists. His eyes keep darting to the edge of the room where a single candle sputters. He was supposed to be silent, yet he laughed. I warned him, earlier. “Speak when I say.” He chose not to listen.

The candlelight dances across his features, painting them in shades of guilt and anticipation. “Come,” I command. He stands, but his gaze does not meet my eyes. I circle him, as the leather strap in my hand swallows the light. “Listen,” I say, as my fingertips brush the strap’s surface. His head snaps up, and his eyes are wide and pleading. I lay the strap across his chest. “Your mistake was not in the sound you made, but in the thought that you could speak without consequence.”

Continue reading ““Speak when I say.”” →

Daddy’s Girl

Posted 2 weeks ago by Sawyer

Sawyer 1844-332-2639 Ext 455

There’s something incredibly exciting about having a daddy tell me what and when to do something. All I want to do is please him even when it’s not something I want to do. He could force me to do anything and I would still have a smile on my face. 

People often think the appeal is about obedience, as a daddy’s girl I think it’s about getting my pussy filled. If daddy wants it I’m giving it to him. It’s about knowing that Daddy takes charge, and there is no such word as no in the dictionary when he is around.

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I stepped out of the alleyway, with my heels clicking against the concrete. It sounded almost like a siren song for the broken. I wasn’t looking for conversation, I was looking for the magnetic pull of a submissive spirit. You can smell them, really. There’s a specific scent to a man who is tired of his own self-governance. It’s a faint, metallic tang of repressed desperation.

I spotted what appeared to be a perfect specimen near the corner of 4th Street. He standing under the flickering orange glow of a streetlight. Tall, well-dressed in a suit that looked slightly too heavy for his frame, and was clutching a briefcase like a shield. He was trembling, though there was no breeze to speak of. As I approached, I didn’t bother with the softness of a smile. I let my presence be the only thing that mattered.

Continue reading “a siren song for the broken” →

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

My roster of submissive men is long. Most thrive under the weight of my boot. Most find peace in the surrender. But then there is Elias. He’s…a bit of a glitch in my system. He doesn’t want simple obedience, he wants to see how far he can push me. Elias is the type of guy who treats my boundaries like suggestions and my commands like challenges to his own crumbling ego.

Last night, for example, he smirked when I told him to kneel. Just as I was about to correct him, his eyes darted to my face with that infuriating, inquisitive glimmer. He wasn’t looking for release, he was looking for a crack in my composure. Instead, he found the cold, clinical end of my patience.

Continue reading “Breaking Elias’ Ego” →

Danika * (844) 332-2639 x 466

I have a delightful fantasy that’s been on my mind for days that I would like your help with. Hopefully you are up for the task. I’ve heard you follow directions well, so I think you might be the perfect fit. Only time will tell. To start, I want you to meet me on the rooftop of where I live. There will be a nice setup waiting for us. Think blankets and pillows laid out, snacks and drinks at fingertips reach. You will be wearing a suit, and I will be wearing the cutest little skirt and top.

Now let me tell you a little bit about what it is I want from you…

Continue reading “Meet Me on the Rooftop” →

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The first one caught my eye at 2 am. A tweet that read, “I’m lost. Need a hand to hold.” The author’s thin‑lined profile picture was of a man with a half‑smile, signed with his handle @MourningMoth. I replied, not with a greeting but with a command. “Close your eyes. Breathe. Count to three, then type ‘ready’.” The reply came instantly. They usually do.

From there, the dance began. I instructed him to write down his limits, his safe words, and the things that made the darkness feel comfortable. He obeyed and explained that each line he typed was a confession he could not make to anyone else. Of course it was! lol

Continue reading “Lost Subs on X” →

Puppet Master

Posted 3 months ago by Stella

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The only light in my apartment is a single bulb swinging from a loose cord. Puppet, my nickname for the man who walks the line between devotion and dread, is already waiting in my living room with his shoulders hunched as if he’s bracing for a storm he cannot see. His eyes remain fixed on the floorboards and I can hear his breath. It sounds shallow, like the rhythm of a heart that beats faster when it knows it is being watched.

“Stella,” he whispers, trembling. I smile and he flinches. The movement is tiny, but enough to tell me he is listening. The rules between us are more of a contract that’s etched in ink and fear. Obey, or the consequences will be more than a bruised ego. He knows the price of disobedience. Exile, humiliation, the kind of silence that follows you into the night.

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Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The night I first saw my new little sissy girl, Chrissy, she was perched on a cracked stool with her legs crossed so tightly that she seemed to be holding herself together with nothing but sheer will. Her hair was a clumsy knot of pink and violet extensions and her makeup was more of an attempt than it was a success. She had thick eyeliner that drooped, lipstick that was smeared, and her blush was in all of the wrong places. Her too‑small dress clung to her body like a second skin. She was, indeed, a bit of a hot mess.

We got to talking and she nervously asked me the magic question that all of my sissy girls eventually ask. “Do you think you could help me become beautiful?” There was something raw in the way she asked, though. She was very clearly yearning to be seen by a different kind of audience. She wanted not just beauty, but the kind of beauty that opened doors. The kind that turned the heads of men whose pockets were fatter than their morals.

Continue reading “Sissy Chrissy Wants To Be Beautiful” →

Oh JOI!

Posted 3 months ago by Writer

Danika * (844) 332-2639 x 466

Come on in, have a seat. I wont bite; at least not this time. Let’s have a drink, get to know each other a tad bit before we get to what you came here for. How do you like to be talked to? Would you like me to be stern with you, or soft? Right now is your moment to ask for your needs to be met before I take over; before I am in control. Before my voice is guiding your masturbation. Oh, JOI! There is an unmistakable grin on my face as I get ready to direct and guide your movements and take control of your cock with just the sound of my voice. Oh JOI indeed.

I’m going to take my time undressing you, looking you in the eyes as I remove each article of clothing. There is a power in watching you lust for me from your chair across the room. All that’s left when I’m done are my silk thigh-high stockings and black Stiletto’s. Sitting back down in my own chair with my legs spread open for you, I gently, but firmly, instruct you to undress for me.

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The first time a client walked through the door of my studio, it was a late night in March and he was trembling. He introduced himself as Michael, a name he’d chosen for the night, and handed me a thick, handwritten contract. I read each clause, the limits, the safe words, the aftercare provisions, and signing it felt more like a promise than a signature.

When the lights dimmed, the room became a sanctuary of shadows. My hand brushed his cheek and I whispered, “You’re here because you want to be seen, to be felt, to surrender.” He nodded. We began with a simple rope. Four meters of hemp, stripped smooth by years of practice. I looped it around his wrists, tight enough to speak, loose enough to trust. As the knots settled into their places, I watched his muscles tense and then relax. The rope sang against his skin. Continue reading “The first time a client walked through the door” →