Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Mark sat with his hands folded in his lap and his eyes fixed on the floor. Kayla sat to my left. She held Mark’s gold card between two of her perfectly manicured fingers, while admiring it like a trophy. “Stella, darling, shall we see how much he’s willing to sacrifice for our entertainment?” she asked, with a wink.

“Let’s!” I said, while watching the subtle tremor in his shoulders. “You know the rules, Mark. Four digits. If we guess correctly, the balance is ours. If we miss…well, the penalty for wasting our time is exactly the same.”

Continue reading “The PIN to Mark’s Gold Card”

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I was waiting for my date to show up, when I heard the rumble of an engine in the distance. As soon as he pulled into my driveway, I barely registered the man in the helmet as someone I actually knew. My attention was elsewhere. My eyes were locked on his motorcycle. It was a matte-black cafe racer, with silver accents that caught the fading light in all the right places.

I found myself walking toward it before I realized what I was doing, as I reached out with my fingers hovered just inches from the tank. The surface was warm from the residual heat of the engine. It felt like touching something alive. I traced the line of the steel frame and sighed. It was a masterpiece, meant for speed and dominance, but I felt a strange, heady rush of desire. Not for the man who rode it, but for the machine itself.

Continue reading “Can I Fuck A Motorcycle?”

(844)-332-2639 ext 398

Tiny cocks make me giggle. I can’t help it. When a man pulls down his underwear and I find a little shrimpy, the laughter just erupts out of me. How could I ever take a dicklet seriously? It’s not like a real dick. A real dick would be capable of actually fucking me. A real cock stretches my tight teen pussy with each stroke. If I gave a tiny pricked loser a shot, all his little dick could do is rub between my pussy lips. The moment his prick dips into my tight honey pot, he’d explode and I wouldn’t have any fun.

Continue reading “Small Dick Humiliation Makes Me Giggle”

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Joseph knew the rules about keeping his play area tidy after quiet time, yet the room looked as though a tornado had spontaneously passed through it. As soon as he saw me standing in the doorway, Joseph huddled in the corner with his hands crossed over his thick, crinkly diaper. It appeared as if he was trying to summon a look of false indifference, but we both knew he couldn’t fool Mama Cory.

Disciplinarian was never a role that I enjoyed, but it was an essential tether to the boundaries that kept Joseph and my other ABDL’s feeling safe and structured within their sessions. As I knelt down to his level, I could see his pulse in his throat, which was a clear indication that the initial bravado of his rebellion was rapidly fading into the realization of the consequences that were about to inevitably follow his actions.

Continue reading “Joseph knew the rules”

PHONESEX

(844)-332-2639 ext 398

I might have the best neighbors ever. Yesterday, I ran out in my robe to grab my mail and accidentally locked myself out. No one else was home and I didn’t even have my phone to call for help. That’s how I ended up half naked on my neighbors porch, asking for him to let me in. He said his wife was at work, but that I could call my parents with his phone. And when he heard it would be a few hours before anyone could come home with a key, he invited me to wait it out there. He even brought me orange juice. 

Continue reading “Nice Neighbor Helps Out Phonesex Slut”

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Ronald is successful and entirely too confident for his own good. He sits alone at the mahogany bar, swirling a strong drink, vibrating with the kind of arrogance that begs to be shattered. What he doesn’t seem to realize (yet, anyway) is that I know exactly what men crave. They crave the illusion of control, right up until the moment I strip it away.

As I slide onto the stool beside him, his gaze instantly drops to my legs. I see the spark in his eyes and know that he’s looking at my shiny black pantyhose. As I shift my weight and cross my legs, the faint hiss of fabric rubbing against fabric is audible only to us. The sound mimics the tightening of a knot.

Continue reading “Controlling Him With Pantyhose”

Legs Contest

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I stood center stage, as the hardwood beneath my heels vibrated with the roar of the crowd. My focus; however, remained entirely on the panel of judges. Specifically, after weeks of studying him in preparation for today, I was focused on Arthur Vane.

Vane may have been a leg contest connsoeur, but he didn’t care about muscle tone or athletic symmetry. It turned out, he had a singular, obsessive weakness…the tactile, liquid sheen of high denier hosiery. Here’s the thing, guys. The winner of the contest was to be awarded a 1 year contract with a top modeling agency, so of course I wanted to win. I needed it!

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was standing in the aisle of my favorite grocery store, staring down a mountain of bulk-sized diapers and an alarming amount of diaper rash cream. Just as I reached for a box of premium-brand pull-ups, a very handsome man appeared beside me. I looked up to find a grin on his face that suggested he knew exactly what was happening in my world of ABDLs.

“Hosting a birthday party?” he asked, as he glanced from my face to the mountain of plush, absorbent goods piled high in my cart. I felt my cheeks flush, but I leaned into it and smirked, while tossing my hair over my shoulder. “Some of my guests are just notoriously messy,” I said, as I innocently batted my eyelashes at him.

Continue reading “The man in the diaper aisle”

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

My collection of toys is a gallery of exquisite agony and, to be entirely honest with you, I love it. Each object holds its own place in my heart; however, there are two in particular that I love the most. There’s a heavy, weighted flogger constructed from braided leather that feels like a conversation with gravity every time I use it. I’ve also recently acquired a set of glass blown dilators that shimmer like trapped lightning under the dim glow of my crystal chandelier.

When I’m here in my dungeon, I’m not Stella the accountant, or Stella the daughter, or Stella the woman who worries about the passage of time. I’m only known as Mistress Stella, the creator of sensations. I love the way the room seems to inhale when I’m ready to play. There’s a specific kind of power in being the stillness at the heart of the storm, and I relish every moment of it. I pick up a single, slender crop, testing the weight of it against my palm. The leather is supple, worn smooth by years of practiced intent.

Continue reading “My collection of toys”

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

He was between my thighs, exactly where he liked to be, with his face pressed into the fabric of my silk robe. I stared at the ceiling, as my eyes traced the cracks in the plaster. I felt nothing but a cold, clinical detachment. Jakob was a man of specific, diminishing appetites. He adored the feeling of being small, of being conquered, of being treated as nothing more than a footstool. For a while, the novelty had been enough. But novelty is a fleeting currency and…well…I had spent every last cent of it.

“Is that all you’ve got, Jakob?” I asked, not so innocently. He knew he couldn’t provide the raw, overwhelming friction I craved. He was a plaything, not a partner, and I was starving. “I’m going out,” I said, rising from the edge of the bed. Jakob stayed knelt on the floor, with his hands folded neatly in his lap, looking up at me with that signature blend of adoration and anxious eagerness. “Will you be late, Amber?” he asked.

Continue reading “I felt nothing, so I cucked him”