Tag: phonesex

The Milking Stable

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

Grunts, groans, and mumbles for mercy echoed off the clinical walls of my milking Stable. My high heels strike the tile as I wander the rows confidently, checking that all the machines are working properly. Six rows of six cumcows are lined up under the bright lights. A wall of screens constantly streams a variety of porn, not that it matters. The vacuum pump of the teat covers clamped around their cocks would coax their cum out, whether their meat was stiff or not.

Which seems to be the problem with cumcow number 4C. His vacuum pump is working away, but has slipped off his limp penis. The whirring and slurping of the empty teat cover as I hurried over to him. “What have we here?” I ask, even though the gag in his mouth prevents him from answering me. “Did we milk you dry?”

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

Mommy’s panty boy loved to help with the laundry when he was little. He was such a good little Mommy’s helper. He would hand mommy the delicates to hang outside on the clothesline. Then when they were dry, he always wanted to fold them. Mommy noticed how he would admire his little sister’s panties. Then one day he asked her why boys have to wear plain ugly underwear while girls got to wear beautiful underwear. Mommy felt bad that she hadn’t gotten him cuter underwear like the kind with superheroes or other characters on them. But she did always get his sister cute little lacy princess panties and all kinds of other girly panties with flowers, hearts, and rainbows on them.

So one day Mommy decided to take him shopping for cute little boy’s underwear. He was so excited. But the minute they got inside the store, he was pulling Mommy towards the girl’s section. Mommy said no, the little boy’s underwear is this way. And she headed towards the boy’s section. He started to cry and say no. But Mommy reassured him that they would have some really cute underwear for boys. And they did!

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masturbation blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

My usual detached composure faltered the moment he introduced himself. “Good evening, I’m Liam, and I’ll be your server tonight.” “Stella,” I managed, my voice a little huskier than I intended. “Nice to meet you, Liam.” He was tall, with a lean build that stretched the fabric of his black uniform a little too perfectly across his chest and shoulders.

There was a spark, a subtle flirtation in his gaze that mirrored my own. I found myself lingering over my order, asking unnecessary questions about the drink list, just to keep him at the table for a few moments longer. I’d catch his eye from across the room, and he’d offer a quick, knowing smile before attending to another table. It was maddening and exhilarating all at once.

He talked about the specials with a passion that made me want to order everything, even the things I didn’t usually like. His hands, as he poured my drink, were long and elegant, with just a hint of muscle. My imagination ran wild, painting scenarios that had no business existing in a crowded public restaurant. He was just doing his job, I reminded myself, but my body wasn’t listening. My pussy was throbbing. A delicious, unbearable ache that could only be soothed by one thing…Liam’s cock.

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abdl blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

They call my place “The Sanctuary,” though some regulars lovingly whisper “Cory’s Corner of Bliss.” This isn’t your typical chain spa with weird music and generic oils. My space is more intimate, filled with the scent of sandalwood and a quiet hum of understanding. My clients, mostly men in their late 30s and beyond, come here for something more specific. Something they can’t find just anywhere.

My standard massage is good, really good. I’ve got hands that can melt knots you didn’t even know you had. But what truly sets me apart, what brings them back, is the “Comfort Care” add-on. It’s my little secret, a unique service that caters to a very particular kind of release. When a client opts for Comfort Care, I see their eyes light up a little, a mix of apprehension and quiet longing. That’s when I bring out the softest, thickest of adult diapers. It’s never forced, always an offered choice, explained delicately as a way to fully surrender, to shed the burdens of adulthood, even just for an hour.

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pantyhose blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I met Mike at a private party, where I was working as a professional tease. He was a handsome man, with dark eyes that held an intensity I found irresistible. I was wearing a sheer black negligee that left little to the imagination, and beneath it, a pair of silky black pantyhose. I could see the desire burning in his eyes as I strutted towards him, my hips swaying seductively. “Do you like what you see?” I asked, running my hands over my curves.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving my body. I laughed softly, then reached out and grabbed his hand, placing it on my thigh. “Feel that?” I whispered, as his fingers traced the delicate pattern of the pantyhose. “That’s what you’ve been craving, isn’t it?” He nodded again. I could feel his dick straining against his pants, and I knew I had him right where I wanted him. After leading him to an oversized lounge chair, I pushed him down onto it and climbed on top of him. I straddled his waist, my pussy just inches from his throbbing cock.

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domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Bonjour! Je suis Stella, your newest Candy Girl! I want to tell you about a call I did with my latest victim, a man named Ethan. He was on the other end of the line, moaning loudly as he listened to my commands. “Ethan,” I purred, my voice dripping with a mix of authority and desire. “Are you ready to be punished?” He stuttered, his voice was shaking with anticipation. “Y-yes, Stella.”

“Good boy,” I cooed, my fingers tracing the curve of my full lips. “Now, I want you to take off all your clothes. I want you to feel the cool air against your skin. Can you do that for me?” He hesitated, but I could hear the rustling of fabric over the phone as he took off his shirt and underpants. “I…I’m naked, Stella.” He said, nervously. “Mmm, good,” I hummed, my hand drifting down to the hem of my silk robe. “Now, I want you to touch yourself. Imagine it’s my hand on your dick, stroking you slowly.”

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BBC PDA

Posted 2 months ago by Felicity

PDA

Phonesex with Felicity 1844-332-2639 x 270  

Have you ever been walking down the street and saw a man so beautiful you had to stop? Not just an attractive man, I’m talking full-on Adonis. Yesterday, I took a few hours to do some shopping. I was by myself and enjoying the peace and quiet. Not looking to express some Hot, BBC, PDA, but when it happens it happens. Most people were home BBQ-ing with family or whatnot so the shops weren’t busy at all. When I saw that black God, he saw my jaw drop.

He must be used to women and men alike stopping to stare at him because he beckoned me over with a finger. Like a lust-filled lasso, that curling finger drew me in. He lifted his shirt to show off a six-pack of ebony abs and I swear my knees buckled.

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

I had no idea how kinky he really was until that night. We had been dating for six months. So we went out to dinner to celebrate. We had a great time like we always did, flirting and playing footsie under the table. Needless to say, by the time we were done with dinner, we were quite aroused. On our way back to my place, he slid his hand under my dress. He played with my pussy while he drove. I was so wet and turned on by the time we got home. “Make yourself comfortable while I go freshen up. Feel free to make us a drink” I winked with a flirtatious smile. Then I headed to my room. I took a quick shower, touched up my makeup, spritzed on some of my favorite all natural, aphrodisiac perfume, and slipped on a sexy little burgundy lace negligee.

When I came out of my en suite restroom, there he was. He was in bed already, with a devious little grin plastered across his face. I wondered what he was up to. Then I saw one of my lingerie drawers open. And I knew I hadn’t left it like that.

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findom blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Corey was already kneeling when I walked into the living room, a soft, almost imperceptible tremor running through his body. He was dressed precisely as I’d instructed: an old, faded t-shirt that was clearly too small for him, barely covering the lacy bra I’d made him wear underneath. His hair, usually neatly styled, was a mess, indicating he’d spent the morning cleaning my apartment, just as I’d ordered.

“Good morning, little piggy,” I purred, settling onto the plush velvet armchair opposite him. He swallowed hard, his eyes – wide and pleading – fixed on my designer slippers. “Good morning, Mistress.” His voice was raspy, laced with a familiar mix of shame and fervent eagerness. It was a sound I’d grown to enjoy, the sound of a man willingly surrendering his power, his dignity, his very livelihood. “Such a compliant sissyboy, aren’t you?” I let the words hang in the air, watching him flinch slightly, then visibly melt into the humiliation. “Have you been a good little finsub and followed my instructions to the letter?”

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butt

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Some guys just really like my butt. I know, I know. It’s a common thing, maybe even a cliché, BUTT…there are levels to it, aren’t there? And then there was him. HIM. Most guys, they like the curve, the shape, the way it looks in a tight pair of jeans or a silk dress. Standard appreciation. But this one? He was an ass man with a very particular vision.

He wanted me to dress up. Not for a party, not for a night out. Just for him, and for the specific fantasy he’d crafted in his mind. A patent black catsuit. Gleaming. And patent black stiletto boots, so high they practically dared me to fall. My nails, already long, were sharpened and painted a deep, dangerous crimson. When I looked in the mirror, I wasn’t just a woman in an outfit; I was a creature. A typical superhero villainess, absolutely, from the sharp lines of the suit to the predacious gleam in my own eyes. And I felt like one, too. Powerful. Unattainable. Menacing, even.

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