abdlCory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I opened the door to find James standing on the porch, his shoulders slumped slightly. He was a regular, and I knew the signs. His red-rimmed eyes suggested a rough week, and the way he clutched his backpack to his chest told me he was feeling small and vulnerable. “Hey, James,” I said, offering a warm smile. “Come on in. I’ve got your favorite juice box chilling.” He shuffled inside, kicking off his sneakers near the door. The house was carefully curated to be a comforting space. Soft rugs, pastel colors, and a complete absence of sharp edges. It was designed to soothe.

“Rough week?” I asked gently, leading him to the oversized, plush armchair in the living room. He nodded, unable to meet my gaze. “Work’s been awful. My boss is breathing down my neck.” He finally looked up, his eyes filled with distress. “I just… I messed up and forgot a really important email.” “Everyone makes mistakes, James. It’s okay. That’s why we have second chances, and erasers, and…mamas.” I gently stroked his hair. It was soft and fine, not like a grown man’s hair at all. “Tell me about it.”

Continue reading “Consequences For James”

asmr

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

“Okay, Zoey, are you sure about this?” I asked, fiddling with my headset. Zoey, perched on the edge of my desk amidst a chaotic pile of chips bags and candy wrappers, grinned. “Absolutely, Amber,” she winked. You see, we’d recently stumbled upon the ASMR fetish community somewhat accidentally, after both of our TikTok FYP’s were filled with videos of whispering voices and the strangely compelling sounds of people eating. Zoey, ever the entrepreneur, had the brilliant idea that we should use this to our advantage – you know, being PSO’s and all. “Food-focused ASMR calls,” she’d declared, eyes gleaming. “We’ll be the queens of the crunch!”

And so, here we were. The first video call came through Teams, after a quick DM with “CrunchKing69.” “Hello?” I said, my voice a little too excited. Zoey was already unwrapping a bag of spicy ramen noodles. “H-hello,” a nervous voice replied. “Is…is this the, uh, ASMR call?” “Youuuuu betcha,” Zoey purred, before chomping hard on the crunchy noods. The sound filled the room, and we could see CrunchKing69 drooling on the other end while stroking his dick. Next, it was my turn. I grabbed a

Continue reading “The Queens of Crunch”

Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459

It was supposed to be a routine trip home during my summer internship. A quick visit with the family, some home-cooked meals, and then back to campus. But I had an ulterior motive – seeing Nate, my high school boyfriend. We’d kept in touch over the years and he knew I’d be in town.

When I pulled up in his driveway, my heart raced. He came out and greeted me with a passionate kiss. “I missed you so much,” he murmured into my hair. I smiled, knowing we’d pick up right where we left off.

“Let’s go to the movies,” he suggested. But as we sat in his car, a different idea took hold. Our hands roamed each other’s bodies as we kissed. I straddled him in the driver’s seat, grinding on his growing erection. He reached up my skirt, fingers gliding through my slick folds.

Continue reading “A Routine Trip Home”

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

By the time I slide into the office at 8:59am, pulse racing and out of breath, I know I’ve got this in the bag. The tight burgundy pencil skirt hugs my curves in all the right places, the clingy black blouse cut low enough to show the perfect amount of cleavage. I’m dressed to impress, determined to wow the most important man in the building. Because I do whatever it takes to make it in this world.

“Good morning, Mr. Jameson,” I purr as I saunter past his office, swaying my hips just so. Innocent yet flirty, a wink in my voice.

“Diana, you look ravishing as always,” he replies smoothly, blue eyes drinking me in hungrily behind his polished oak desk. “Come in a moment, would you?”

Continue reading “Whatever It Takes”

Roxy 1 (844) 332-2639 Ext 414

I love a boy that can handle me. Can you handle me?  Sometimes I get the feeling that boys are intimidated and don’t know if they can handle a “stripper”. But I’m here to tell you that I don’t want some egotistical bastard. I want someone that’s real. Dad bods get extra credit, lol. I have been dealing with men all of my life. Many think they know what I want. But they are usually wrong. I just want a sweet, genuine person. It doesn’t really matter if they are male or female. Age doesn’t matter either. All that matters is that we click in every way.

I was invited to a huge fiesta. It was so freaking amazing. There was a mariachi band. Everyone was dancing and having a great time. Some guys were trying to flirt with me and my friends. They were the machismo types. Lots of muscles, chiseled features, perfect hair… you know, the typical “tall, dark, and handsome”. But they just weren’t doing it for me. They think they’re so sexy, suave, and debonair. But that’s actually such a turn off to me. The sweet, quiet guy sitting in the corner is more my style.

Continue reading “Can You Handle Me?”

Julio and His Mom

mom

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It’s a confession I never expected to hear, not even from Julio. We’ve been friends since college, seen each other through bad breakups, questionable fashion choices, and career crises. We’re the kind of friends who can sit in comfortable silence for hours, knowing the other is just there. But this? This was uncharted territory.

“I know it sounds wrong,” Julio mumbled, swirling the ice in his drink. We were at O’Malley’s, our usual haunt, the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses providing a thin veil of normalcy around the confessional booth we’d inadvertently created. Julio, with his easy smile and genuine concern for others, was suddenly someone I barely recognized. He sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. “It started a few weeks ago. I was helping Mom clean out the attic. You know how she is, holding onto everything.”

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met gala

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Under the bright lights of the Met Gala, I stood, a vision in silver, my mermaid gown shimmering, my hair adorned with tiny silver flowers. Willie, my ABDL boyfriend, looked dashing in his silver suit, his eyes sparkling with excitement and nervousness. We were nobodies, but tonight, we were the stars, our futuristic attire capturing the attention of every photographer on the red carpet.

As we posed for the cameras, Willie leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. I thought he was going for a sexy nibble, but instead, he whispered, “I’ve had an accident.” Trying not to show my shock as my mind raced with the implications, I reassured him, my voice steady, “It’s okay, baby. We’ll handle it.” We made our way into the venue, our strides confident despite the situation. We bumped into an old friend, who, after a quick explanation, led us to the washroom.

Continue reading “Willie and Amber Go To The Met Gala”

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

Candy Girl Trivia Game Night Tonight!!! Let’s see who knows us best! The questions will be quite simple. All you have to do is study our bios. The answers are all there. There will be twenty two questions. One for each Candy Girl. All you have to do is be the first one to answer with the correct Candy Girl’s name and you get the point. The person with the most points that has not already won a game this month will be the winner. And the winner gets a FREE 15 minute call with the Candy Girl of their choice. But you must choose a Candy Girl that is also participating in the game.

Look over the Candy Girl’s bios to prepare for the game. And I’m sure you will learn things that you never knew before. Learn more about each Candy Girl, our specialties, or shall I say Specialtease? Find out what our favorite roleplays, fetishes, and fantasies are. But you will probably be so horny by the time the game starts. You’ll be a bunch of hard, dripping cocks. Just be careful because we all know you guys can only think with one head at a time.

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Wiener Party!

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

You ever go to a Memorial Day BBQ and it turns into a real WIENER PARTY? The smell of burgers and hotdogs wafting through the air. I was a little tipsy from rose and my sundress was clinging to my curves. “I’m going to grab another bottle for us,” I called out to my friends as I headed into the garage, desperate for a moment of shade.

The garage was cool and dim, the treadmill and weights lined up against the walls. I made my way to the fridge in the corner, bending down to rifle through for another cold one. Suddenly, I heard the door click shut behind me. I turned around and nearly dropped the bottle when I saw who it was.

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blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Mr. Davenport was different. He wasn’t aggressive or demanding, just quietly eccentric, with a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. This was my first session with him, and already, I felt a knot of nervous anticipation in my stomach. “First things first,” he’d said, his voice a low rumble. “The pantyhose.”

I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t object. Black pantyhose were hardly the strangest request I’d received. I slipped them on in the small, cluttered bathroom, the nylon cool against my skin. When I emerged, he was sitting in a plush armchair, a stopwatch in his hand. “And now, my dear, something sticky. From your pantry, anything will do.” My pantry was a chaotic testament to my haphazard cooking habits. I rummaged through jars and cans, finally grabbing a bottle of honey. It felt cliché, but undeniably, honey reeked of stickiness.

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