Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203
Miss Anna was getting ready to go out on the town, but she liked to match her panties to her outfits and accessories. She began searching the house looking for a particular pair: they were two toned, lace and caged at the back, perfect for the cheeks.
Continue reading “The Chronicles of Miss Anna’s Panty Slut Pt. 10”
Jamie 1-844-332-2639 ext 461
I leaned back against the peeling faux-leather sofa, nursing a flat ginger ale. My eyes weren’t fixed on any one person; they were sweeping, taking inventory of the faces that mattered. The ones leaning over the mixing board, the ones holding the actual contracts. My gaze skipped past the girlfriends, the wives, the stable ones. They were wallpaper.
I live for the proximity. I don’t care about the music, not really. When you’re standing next to someone who is currently being applauded, some of that heat spills onto you. I care about the glow. For a few hours, I’m not just so-and-so from nowhere; I’m Jamie who was with HIM. It’s a borrowed shine, and I’m addicted to the reflection.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
My friend Heather cornered me the moment she heard her brother, Henry, was back in the city. “Amber,” she’d whispered, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “I’m throwing him a welcome home party and need you to be there! He’s been gone for so long, and you know…you know how I feel about you and him. Just…take care of him for me, okay?”
Henry was a ruggedly handsome military man, fresh from some top-secret Pentagon assignment. He was the kind of man who made you forget your own name, especially when he was wearing that crisp uniform. I wandered into Heather’s living room and there he was, looking as fine as ever, surrounded by friends and relatives. The air crackled when he looked in my direction. Heather had given me the go-ahead, a playful shove towards destiny, and my heart was doing a frantic drum solo against my ribs.
Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248
This year’s Halloween party was going to be unforgettable. I’d planned it carefully, picking the perfect theme and costumes for me and my sissy. I combed through his wardrobe, picking out a skimpy latex mini-dress and thigh-high stilettos. I styled his hair in a messy, sex-kitten updo and applied a bold red lip. My sissy’s curves looked heavenly in that little number. I thought he was the perfect slut for our soiree.
Once he was all dolled up, I set to work on my own look. I opted for a vampy witch costume, black lace and leather, with a strategically placed cutout that showed just a hint of cleavage. We were both going for a wickedly sexy aesthetic, perfect for a night of debauchery.
Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457
As I sat in the dark room, I wondered why I agreed to participate in the Beckett’s Haunted Mansion. There was a thunderstorm outside. So lightning would light up the room periodically. When it did, I couldn’t help but get scared of my own reflection in the mirror. The Raggedy Ann costume looked so demented. As did all of the hundreds of dolls around the room. I sat in a corner trembling as I heard screams from the other rooms. I was to blend in with all of the other dolls then pop out and scare them. But when I heard the door open, I froze. I heard men’s voices. They were laughing and talking about how they’ve always wanted to fuck a doll. I remembered reading about agalmatophilia. Then they walked right up to me. One turned on the flashlight on their phone and shined it right on me. He started touching me and telling the other guys that I was so realistic. Then they started touching me as well. I was too scared to move. Luckily, he put the phone down, so I was able to blink and breathe. But then they began groping me.
Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453
The Halloween party started to turn really wicked when I headed to the storage room. The staff was pretty overwhelmed. So I was just trying to help out. The bar needed to be replenished. So I headed downstairs and down the long, dark hallway. That’s when I realized that I was being followed by the Grim Reaper. I had seen him around the party, but I had no idea who he was. I should’ve just asked him if I could help him. But he was really freaking me out. The faster I walked, the faster he walked. My heart was racing. Suddenly I realized that I didn’t have my phone. And the music was so loud upstairs that no one would be able to hear me scream. I hadn’t even told anyone that I was going down to the storage room. It felt like I couldn’t get to the door fast enough. But when I finally did, I got in and locked the door behind me as quickly as possible. I had never been that scared in my life. It felt like I was in there forever just waiting for him to leave. And I hadn’t heard a peep.
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
I carefully orchestrated opportunities for my new boyfriend to witness my infidelity. I’d invite my conquests over for dinner, making sure he caught a glimpse of them walking up our driveway or lingering in our backyard. The look of anguish on his face was music to my ears, fueling my desire to push him further into despair.
I’d take my lovers to intimate gatherings he’d planned, savoring the jealous glares he sent my way. Our sex life became a battleground, with me alternating between tenderness and cruelty, keeping him perpetually off balance. I reveled in the power I held, knowing that beneath his bravado, he was slowly losing his grip on the relationship.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
It was Hallowe’en night. Outside, the mortal world celebrated with plastic masks and cheap candy. But I craved a real thrill, a true terror. I had spent seven Hallowe’ens trying to communicate with spirits, but to no avail. Tonight, I wasn’t summoning a familiar; I was calling something hungry from the deepest trench of the underworld.
My voice, raw and aching, delivered the final incantation: “Come, Shade of the Forgotten. Taste me, for I am willing.” The candles—tallow dipped in fat—did not flicker. They simply vanished, plunging the room into absolute, freezing darkness. Then, almost instantly, he materialized. He wasn’t a sheet or a spectral mist. He was the perfect, sculpted embodiment of shadow, a man stitched together from cosmic cold and palpable malevolence.
Roxy 1(844) 332-2639 Ext 414
Who was he? I had to know. He was so mysterious. I had never seen him at the club before. He must be a brand new member, I thought to myself. I was so intrigued. He was sitting in a back corner. It was really dark. I couldn’t even really see his face. All I could really see was a figure. I could tell that he was very well dressed in a nice suit. But I couldn’t even tell what color it was. Why was I so drawn to him? That usually doesn’t happen. We have so many well dressed, charismatic, charming, distinguished members. It’s very rare for me to feel this way about any of them. He was making me feel so tingly all over. As I danced, I kept staring, just hoping to get a good glimpse of him. I was so into the dance and feeling so good. Then I slipped deep into fantasy. I was fantasizing about giving him a private dance. Feeling his hard cock against my ass through those exquisite, wool/silk blend slacks made me so wet. I reached down to play with my pussy with one hand….
Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457
I went to a crazy college party over the weekend. You’ll never believe what happened. First of all, I couldn’t believe that the party was across the street from the Becketts. The Becketts are my professor and his wife. I started wondering if they knew my friend’s parents. And I started getting worried that they may tell them that their son had a party while they were out of town. I even worried that they may have their phone number. But I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want any questions asked about how I know where the Becketts live. I haven’t told anyone about my naughty little relationship with them last year. No one knew I was doing things with him in order to pass his class. Then his wife found out and got involved. I thought that was all in the past. But sure enough, he ended up having to step in for the professor that was going to teach the class I’m taking this year. And they invited me over for dinner a couple of weeks ago. That’s when Mrs. Beckett pulled me aside, slid her hand up my thigh….