Tag: phone sex

feet

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I knew what Daddy wanted. There’s only one thing that always brought that soft, knowing smile to his lips. Especially because Mommy hated it more than anything else in the world! No shoes, never shoes for this. Daddy told me I had to go to my closet and throw all of my shoes in the trash. I walked barefoot through the garden, deliberately, slowly. Across the freshly turned earth where Daddy had planted his roses, so that my soles were black and soil hid between my toes.

When I stepped back into the kitchen, I walked directly to Daddy, standing between his spread knees as he sat in his worn armchair. I extended my feet, crusted with garden debris. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he slowly, deliberately, picked up my ankle and lowered his head. His tongue was warm, sweeping away the grit, the soil, the evidence of my outdoor adventure.

Continue reading “I knew what Daddy wanted.” →

domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

They come to my apartment, crawling with their money and their sad, empty eyes. They want to be nothing. And I am good at making them nothing. When my heels click on the polished floor, it is a quick, clean sound. Like a tiny whip. I wear black, always. Black is serious. Black is power. My red lipstick is the only color. It is like a stain, a mark, on a clean sheet.

Today, it is a man named Mark. He sits on my velvet couch. This man is too big for it, so his shoulders are hunched. He looks like a little lost, but he is old. Pathetic. He avoids my gaze. Good. He knows his place. “You are early,” I say. My voice is not loud, but it is like ice. “Did I say you could be early? No.”

Continue reading “crawling with their money” →

abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Alright, sweet pea, let’s get you all fresh and clean,” I cooed. My voice dripped with a syrupy sweetness that would put a pancake house to shame. The moment I’d unsnapped his onesie, the undeniable evidence of my ABDL’s recent ‘accomplishment’ announced itself with a potent, aromatic cloud that could have wilted a plastic plant. I fanned the air dramatically, making a big show of it. “Whoa there, partner! Since when is my special little stinker REALLY a stinker?” I asked, as my eyes watered slightly. I fought back a gag that was equal parts disgust and laughter.

With the practiced efficiency of a seasoned pit crew chief, I gathered my arsenal: a fresh, crinkly diaper adorned with cartoon characters that seemed to mock my current situation, a mountain of wipes that felt chillingly inadequate, and a tub of cream that promised to create a barrier more impenetrable than a bank vault. I took a deep, fortifying breath—through my mouth, obviously—and got to work. The tabs gave way with their familiar ripping sound, a prelude to the grand unveiling. “And now, for the main event,” I whispered, my tone that of a nature documentary host

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military man

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.

Continue reading “Henry’s Welcome Home Party” →

spanking blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Brian knew. He’d forgotten himself, let a task slip in a moment of defiance, and now…now he would have no choice but to remember his place. My place. A slow, predacious smile touched my lips, unseen by him, but surely felt in the sudden tension that stiffened his spine.

“Brian,” I purred. “Did you truly believe, even for a moment, that I would tolerate such…well…nonsense?” He remained silent. Good. Fear, respect, anticipation – all blended into a potent melange. My gaze swept over him, from the dark hair falling into his eyes to the vulnerable curve of his neck. This was where he belonged: at my mercy, awaiting my command.

Continue reading “Brian Must Be Punished” →

Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459

As the moon cast an eerie glow on my dorm room, I couldn’t shake the thrill that coursed through my veins. It was the weekend before Halloween, and I found myself craving a certain type of excitement. The kind that only and older man could bring me.

I spent hours getting ready, my heart racing with anticipation. My brown eyes sparked as I painted my lips a deep, crimson red. I slipped into a black lace bra and thong, the fabric barely containing my perky breasts and pert ass. A sheer, ruffly skirt hugged my hips, and I added a pair of thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels to complete the sultry look.

Continue reading “A Certain Type of Excitement” →

abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Tonight was the night. Halloween, and more importantly, James’ first proper trick-or-treating adventure! “Are you ready for the candy, my little monster?” I cooed, smoothing down the soft fabric of his costume. It was a classic, footed onesie, complete with an oversized pair of eyes on the hood that bounced with each step he took. He’d spent weeks picking it out and was very excited to wear it.

James giggled. “Ready, Mama! Monster go get candy!” He hopped a little, his large hands already reaching for the empty pumpkin bucket I’d placed at the door. “That’s right, my sweet boy. Mama’s going to help you fill it all the way up to the top!” Grabbing my own jacket and the trick-or-treat bag I’d packed with essentials – a small flashlight, some wipes, and a spare pacifier, just in case – I reached for his hand as we walked out the door. “Okay, little monster,” I whispered. “Let’s go make some magic.”

Continue reading “James’ first proper trick-or-treating adventure” →

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

Posted 3 weeks ago by Cory

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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