hallowe'en blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I spotted her immediately – a woman sitting at a table in my favorite coffee shop, engrossed in a book with a covetous title: “Dark Arts for the Desperate Soul.” Her eyes darted up, catching mine, and she quickly looked away, a flush creeping up her neck.

I approached her table with a confident stride, my heels clicking against the tiled floor. “Excuse me, but I couldn’t help noticing your book. Are you interested in witchcraft?” She stammered, her gaze flickering between me and the cover. “Y-yes, I am. But I’ve never…I don’t know much about it.”

Continue reading “the devil woman at my favorite coffee shop”

findom

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Attention is currency, and mine is priced high for a reason. Don’t confuse this with being a kind soul, mon chéri. I don’t waste time on ghosts who confuse feelings with transactions. My only rule is etched in the ice of a Montreal winter: I only talk to losers who send me money.

And they are, universally, losers. Not in the theatrical sense, but in the sad, damp reality of their lives. They are the men who linger on the edges of crowds, who treat their pathetic lives like a tragedy requiring an audience. They try to send poems, long screeds about their mothers, or worse, unsolicited pictures of their sad little faces or their sad little neglected cocks.

Continue reading “Don’t Confuse This – Findom Phonesex”

Cuck Conquests

cuck blog

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.

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witch sex

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.

Continue reading “Sex Witch Hallowe’en”

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

I first laid eyes on him at that trendy art bar downtown. He was standing across the room, his sculpted features illuminated by the urban glow, and I felt an instant jolt to my core.

“Hi there, I’m Diana,” I purred, extending a hand adorned with a sapphire ring that flashed under the strobe lights. His warm, calloused palm enveloped mine, sending a thrill up my arm.

“I’m Ryder,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down my spine. We stood there, locked in a charged gaze, as the room around us melted away.

Without another word, we made our way to the coat check, fingers intertwining the whole time. In the dim, cramped space, he crowded me against the wall, hands roaming over my curves with a newfound hunger. “I want you,” he growled, claiming my lips in a fierce, demanding kiss.

Continue reading “That Trendy Art Bar”

breeding kink

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Mr. Sterling was from out of town, his accent a low, rumbling melody that hinted at old money and even older secrets. I’d been working on the Harrington merger for months, flying back and forth, enduring endless conference calls with Mr. Sterling and his team. And, today, we’d finally sealed the deal.

“Stella,” he’d said, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “a deal this significant deserves a proper celebration. I’d be honored if you’d join me for dinner.” I hesitated for a split second, the professional in me battling the flicker of intrigue. But the thrill of closing such a massive deal, coupled with his undeniable charisma, won out. “I’d love to, Mr. Sterling.”

Continue reading “Doing Business With Mr. Sterling”

wetting in public

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was just minding my own business, while trying to navigate the bustling aisles of the local superstore. Which, let’s be honest, is already a comedic goldmine on any given day. My basket was precariously stacked with various impulse buys when I noticed a dude a few feet ahead of me acting a little…uh…shifty.

He was wearing these beige cargo shorts. In hindsight, they didn’t exactly help camouflage the emerging situation. He kept adjusting his stance, almost like he was doing a subtle, internal dance battle with himself. I initially just thought he had a really itchy butt. Or was perhaps auditioning for a very niche interpretive dance troupe in the cereal aisle. But then I spotted a distinct, darkening patch at the front of his shorts.

Continue reading “Cleanup In Aisle 7”

witches

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Our potent little jar of moon-kissed herbs and dewdrop essence sat between us on the worn oak table. The “magic salve,” as we called it, was a concoction born of generations of hedgewitch wisdom, designed not just to heal the skin, but to awaken the spirit. Beside it, our broomsticks lay ready. Not the bristly kind for sweeping the hearth, mind you, but slender, polished hazel branches, each one unique, chosen and carefully prepared for this very purpose.

With a shared, knowing smile, Kayla and I began the ritual. Dipping the tips of our broomsticks into the shimmering, emerald green salve, we coated them generously. The scent was earthy patchouli, sweet jasmine, and something wilder, like fresh rain on ancient moss. Then, with a slow, deliberate grace, we inserted our broomsticks into our dripping wet pussies, pulling and pushing them in and out of our fuck holes as we moaned with pleasure, ensuring all of the salve

Continue reading “Magic Salve and Broomsticks”

abdl mommy

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Right now, my patience is wearing thin, stretched to its absolute limit by Timmy’s repeated defiance. Though, he pretends not to notice the storm gathering in my eyes. He knows what he did, and I know he knows, which only makes this impending conversation all the more serious. My heart aches for the difficult lesson that is about to unfold. His naughtiness this morning wasn’t a small oversight or an accidental spill; it was a deliberate act of rebellion. And it was a direct challenge to my authority and the rules we’ve so carefully established for his own well-being!

Despite my clear instructions to always tell Mommy when his diaper was getting full, especially after waking up and having his morning bottle, he decided to ignore me entirely. Instead of asking for a change, he chose to play in his messy diaper, leaving a trail of tell-tale smears on his favorite blanket. And, even worse, on the clean, plush carpet by his oversized crib.

Continue reading “Testing Mommy’s Patience”

big dick

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

We’d been flirting for weeks. I pulled open the door, a smile already playing on my lips. Evan stood there, shorter than me by a few inches, his dark hair a little rumpled, eyes crinkling at the corners. He was cute, undeniably, with an effortless charm that hid a surprising intensity. I always had a soft spot for guys I could look down on, literally. There was a confidence in him that transcended stature, and it was utterly captivating.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a low rumble that always sent a shiver down my spine. “Hey yourself,” I replied, stepping back to let him in. We didn’t bother with small talk. His gaze locked onto mine, a silent conversation passing between us that rendered words obsolete. His hands found my waist, warm and firm, pulling me closer until my body was flush against his. A soft gasp escaped my lips as his mouth descended, hungry and urgent. It was everything I’d imagined, and more.

Continue reading “Evan Has a Big Dick”