Little Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

I knew it was coming sooner or later. It’s no secret that I don’t do well in his class. I knew I was failing, again. So I decided to take things into my own hands and be proactive. The only way he’s going to pass me is if I do sexual favors for him. I didn’t want to wait for him to start demanding. I was surprised that he hadn’t already. But when class was over, he just stepped out of the room. So I got under his desk and waited for him to return. It’s a thing we do. I get under his desk and give him a blow job while he sits there. But students started pouring in for the next class before he did. Then I finally heard the door close. A woman’s voice began explaining that she would be teaching the class because Mr. Beckett had an appointment. I couldn’t believe it. It was Mrs. Beckett, his wife. How was I going to explain this? She had already caught us in the past. So of course she was going to know exactly what was going on. But the three of us have also done things together.

Continue reading “I Knew It Was Coming”

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The webcam light flickered to life, bathing my room in a cool, clinical blue glow. On the screen, Mark sat in his dimly lit office. A half-empty glass of liquid glinting beside his keyboard. He was a new acquisition, one who had paid a premium for my undivided attention, but he was already failing the test.

“Good evening, Mark,” I said. He looked at the screen. His pupils were dilated and his face flushed with the telltale heat of a drinking problem. “Stella,” he slurred. “You look…um, I…I want you to dominate me.” I didn’t smile. Instead, I let the silence stretch until the air in his room felt heavy enough to scare him a little. “Stop,” I commanded, as I watched him jack his cock under his desk.

Continue reading “Mark learned the hard way”

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The red ink on the quarterly audit report glared at me like an accusation. I really fucked up the company’s accounting, which made it look like we were laundering money. Wonderful. I heard footsteps as Mr. Sterling, the firm’s CEO, walked into my cubicle. His shadow seemed to engulf my entire desk. “Amber,” he said, as his voice dropped an octave. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

I swallowed hard. My palms were sweating. “I…I thought it was a rounding error?” The look on his face assured me he was not in the mood for forgiveness. “It’s a disaster,” he sighed, as he dropped a heavy folder onto my desk. “I suppose I have no choice but to let you go. HR is finalizing the paperwork as we speak.” Let me go? My rent was due in three days! Panic surged through me. I couldn’t afford to lose this job.

Continue reading “I really fucked up at work today”

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

My sweet‑talking, ever‑ready sissy confessed something to me recently. She confessed that she’d been dreaming about the feel of something firm and solid pressing against her delicate, eager asshole. Something like my 10″ strap-on. She explained that being pegged was a secret fantasy that had been bubbling beneath her perky tits and talented tongue for far longer than either of us cared to admit.

Without a single hesitation, I slipped the sleek, polished strap‑on from its velvet pouch and admired its gleaming curve. I slipped the strap around my waist, feeling the weight settle against my hips. The sissy, perched on the edge of the bed, clutched the sheets with trembling fingers. “I’ve wanted this so badly, Cory,” she whispered.

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Lost Subs on X

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

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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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phone sex

 

Milan 844-33CANDY Ext. 398

 

Barely legal sex is way too much fun! Especially, when you can find a very good girl who likes to do very bad things. The type of girl who always follows directions, so when you tell her to get down on her knees in front of you, she’s down before she can even give it a second thought. The type of girl that you only have to teach once, before she’s swallowing you whole with her eyes screwed shut and spit dripping down her chin.

 

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Seducing My Son

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

“Hey, Mom,” my son announced as he walked into my bedroom. “I wanna know why you’re fucking the neighbor instead of Dad.” He looked at me, smirking, as if he was in full control of the situation. I sat on the bed and cleared my throat. “Honey, your father hasn’t touched me in years. Stay out of it, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…” He shook his head and laughed, almost manically. “No, Mom. Tell me WHY…or else, I’ll tell Dad what you did.” I gasped. “Oh no, you won’t!”

He mocked me, suggesting that the only way to keep him silent was to give him a reason not to tattle to his father. So, I did what any respectable mother would do. I seduced him. “How do you know I fucked the neighbor?” I asked, as I unbuttoned the first few inches of my blouse. He looked me straight in the eye and said “I watched.”

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Puppet Master

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”