Rhonda Makes Her Boyfriend Gay

Trans Goddess Alexus 1844-332-2639 Ext 349

Hanging out with couples is always a thrilling experience for me. I never know exactly what will happen. My friend Rhonda asked if I wanted to come over for movie night with her and her boyfriend. Lately, she’s been complaining about him. Even going so far as to say his cock doesn’t please her. I guess it’s on the smaller side, but I didn’t really hope for any action when I agreed to go to movie night.

When I got there, her boyfriend was a little standoffish. It happens with straight guys sometimes. They just don’t know how to handle knowing a beautiful woman like me has a cock. However, I soon realized Rhonda’s intentions to make her boyfriend gay as we sat on the couch and she started rubbing both of our thighs.

Continue reading “Rhonda Makes Her Boyfriend Gay”

My Son's Bully

Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270

Sean isn’t the kind of boy who stands up for himself. He’s a bit of a nerd and very shy. Obviously, I was upset when he came home with a black eye. “What the fuck happened to your face?” I asked as I cradled his soft cheek and turned his head side to side. Of course, he told me it was nothing, just a boy at school.

A boy at school, my ass. This was unacceptable! It took a while before Sean finally gave me the boy’s name, but when he did, I was relieved that I knew his Father. I’d just call him up and get this all settled. No one was going to bully my boy.

Continue reading “My Son’s Bully”

Last Sunday

Sunday

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Last Sunday started like any other. I woke up early, made breakfast for Ronnie and his sister, and got them ready for church. “Here,” I said, handing Ronnie a crisp twenty-dollar bill. “This is for the church donation. Make sure you put it in the collection plate, okay?” “Yes, Mama Cory,” he chirped, grabbing the money. His sister, always the responsible one, nodded solemnly. Off they went, all sunshine and smiles. I trusted them implicitly, or so I thought.

A few hours later, they returned. His sister, bless her honest heart, pulled me aside as soon as we were in the kitchen. “Mama Cory,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “I saw Ronnie at the candy shop across the street from the church after Sunday school! He was buying a whole bag of jawbreakers!” My heart sank. The donation money! I felt a surge of disappointment and a familiar maternal irritation bubbling inside me. Guiding an Abie to do the right thing can be incredibly hard, y’all! “Ronnie!” I called out, trying to keep my voice even. “Come here, please.”

Continue reading “Last Sunday”

Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

I am so excited and feeling optimistic. I know now that it’s most definitely going to be a Hot Girl Summer. This is a new start for me. I finally see light at the end of the tunnel. My parents aren’t going to be able to control me anymore. I know I will be able to support myself if I get this job. Then I can drop out of college and finally have the life I’ve always wanted. And this looks like the best job ever. It’s definitely for me. The dress code is lingerie which is perfect since I have a lingerie addiction. I’ve spent so much on lingerie and have tons of it. It’s all working out the way it’s supposed to. I can feel it. The girls are having so much fun! The atmosphere is so exciting. Everyone is happy. The music is upbeat. It’s the place for me. I asked if they were hiring. The hostess went to get the manager. Then she came back and told me that I was going to do a video interview. She gave me a uniform which was a little top and shorts. Then took me to a back room.

Continue reading “Hot Girl Summer Part 2”

participant

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Liam is a willing participant in our little game of power and control. His bedroom was dimly lit, the air thick with anticipation and a hint of nervous sweat. Liam was strapped to a plush velvet chair, his eyes wide and pleading. Miss Anna, a vision in a tight black dress and sky-high heels, circled him as if she had found her prey. I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk playing on my lips.

“Now, Liam,” Anna purred, her voice dripping with mock concern. “We had a deal, didn’t we? Hands behind your head. Or else…” Liam whimpered, his gaze darting between Anna and me. “But… but it’s been so long,” he stammered, his voice laced with desperation. “Please, just a little…” “A little what, Liam?” I interjected, pushing myself off the doorframe and strolling closer. “A little touch? Perhaps a little relief? You know the rules. Obedience is rewarded, disobedience is punished.”

Continue reading “a willing participant”

a grown man

Bartholomew

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It’s not every day you see a grown man sporting a full-on tuxedo with, shall we say, a little extra padding in the rear. But then again, my relationship with Bartholomew is anything but ordinary. He’s my big boy, emphasis on the big, and sometimes, bless his heart, his body just malfunctions.

Last Saturday was our friend Brenda’s annual “Soiree of Sophistication,” and naturally, I wanted Bartholomew to make a splash. Hence, the tuxedo. He looked dashing, kinda like heèd accidentally wandered into a James Bond film. The problem? Bartholomew gets cripplingly shy in social situations. His default setting is “awkward,” and apparently, his anxiety expresses itself through wetness.

Continue reading “a grown man”

 

Carina 1844-332-2639 ext 293

“Mr. Daniels… I swear, I wasn’t trying to distract you.”

I’m sitting on your desk, legs crossed, skirt hiked up just a little too high. My blouse is unbuttoned enough to reveal the lace of my bra — and the way your eyes keep drifting tells me I’m doing exactly what I intended.

You lean back in your chair, arms folded, voice deep. “This isn’t appropriate, Carina.”

I bite my lip, sliding one heel off slowly, letting it drop to the floor.

“I know. But you called me into your office… and I figured maybe you wanted a little one-on-one performance review.”

I shift, just enough to let the hem of my skirt ride up further. No panties. I made sure of that.

Continue reading “This Isn’t Appropriate”

sissy girl

sissy

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I smirk as I walk into the bedroom, my sissy girl already waiting for me on the bed. She’s wearing a tight pink dress that barely covers her ass, and her long blonde hair is pulled up into pigtails. I can see the nervousness in her eyes, but there’s also a spark of excitement. She wants this, and I’m more than happy to oblige.

“You ready for this, sissy?” I ask, my voice dripping with amusement. She nods, her cheeks flushed. “Yes, Mistress.” I chuckle, walking over to the dresser where I keep my toys. I pick up the sleek, purple device and wave it in the air. “This little thing? It’s going to make you scream, like a sissy bitch.” She whimpers, her hands clutching the sheets. I can see the wetness already staining the crotch of her dress.

Continue reading “sissy girl”

Carina 1844-332-2639 ext 293

The moment you hear my voice, you already know you’re in trouble.

I’m sprawled across the bed in nothing but a tiny lace thong that clings to me like a secret. One hand trails slowly over my skin, tracing every soft curve, every shiver — like I’m performing just for you.

“Mmm… you have no idea what you do to me.”

My breath catches, just enough for you to hear how badly I need it — how badly I need you.

My fingers slide over my breasts, squeezing gently until a soft moan escapes. Then lower… gliding between my thighs… brushing that spot that’s already soaked and throbbing.

I’m not shy about it. I want you to hear every sound I make — every breathy whimper — and know it’s all for you.

“God, I’m so wet already. Are you going to make me beg for it?”

Continue reading “You’re in Trouble”

Amy 1-844-33CANDY ext.460

I’m the girl who turns “What if?” into “Oh God, yes.” With a voice that’s been called “whiskey neat with a side of trouble,” I’ve made a career out of making strangers forget they’re strangers.The spaces between your shame and your hunger. Maybe you’re a CEO who needs to be stripped of control, or a suburban dad who craves a back-alley dominatrix with a PhD in humiliation. I’ll morph into your muse, your tormentor, your accomplice. You want a confessional? A rebellion? A fever dream where I’m both the cure and the symptom? Buckle up, sweetheart.

Continue reading “The static between your thoughts and your zipper”