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

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”