Category: cock control

findom

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Mark, bless his heart, shifted nervously on the edge of my worn velvet chaise lounge. His eyes, usually bright with a hopeful glint, were now clouded with a desperate hunger. He thought I liked him. He truly did. And maybe, in some twisted way, I did. But mostly, I liked the way the crisp hundred-dollar bills felt between my fingers after our sessions.

I moved with a practiced grace, as my many years of dance lessons finally started to pay off. I circled him slowly, my fingertips trailing lightly over the fabric of his neatly pressed shirt. He flinched at my touch, a tremor running through his body. He was so easy to control, a marionette dancing to the tune of my whispered commands. The rules were clear, etched in unspoken agreement between us. He could pump. He could stroke. But he could never, ever cum. He couldn’t touch me, but I could touch him. I was the conductor of this bizarre symphony of frustration, and he was my willing, albeit tormented, instrument. Nothing more than a plaything…A pet.

Continue reading “Mark thought I liked him” →

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

It was a hot Saturday afternoon at my neighbor’s summer BBQ.  Little did I realize the naughty fun that awaited me that fateful day.

I arrived in a short red sundress that hugged my curvy figure, showing off my ample cleavage and long legs. The moment I stepped out of my car, I caught the eye of Chad, the tall, muscular guy next door. He was grilling up burgers and gave me a sly wink as I walked over. “Well hello there, gorgeous,” he said smoothly, eyeing me up and down. “Welcome to the party.”

I blushed and thanked him, feeling his strong hand brush against mine as he handed me an ice cold beer. The rest of the guys were gathered around the yard, their tank tops glistening with sweat in the summer heat. There was Jared, the reserved bookish type with glasses. And then there was Ryan and Shane, the mischievous twin brothers always up to no good.

Continue reading “Summer BBQ Blowjobs!” →

asmr

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Zoey and I recently stumbled upon the ASMR fetish community. It was somewhat accidental, after both of our TikTok FYP’s were filled with videos of whispering voices and the strangely compelling sounds of people eating. Zoey had the brilliant idea that we should use this to our advantage – you know, being PSOs and all. “Food-focused ASMR calls,” she’d declared, eyes gleaming. “We’ll be the sex queens of the crunch!”

We decided to advertise our new fetish service on X and our first video call came through Teams, after a quick DM with a guy named “CrunchKing69.” Zoey was already unwrapping a bag of spicy ramen noodles as I answered.  “H-hello,” a nervous voice replied. “Is…is this the, uh, ASMR call?” “You want it, we’ll do it,” Zoey purred, before chomping hard on the crunchy noodles. The sound filled the room, and we could see CrunchKing69 drooling on the other end while stroking his hard dick. Next, it was my turn. I grabbed a handful of crisp green grapes and popped one in my mouth before sinking my teeth into it. The satisfying crunch reverberated through the microphone. “Delicious,” I murmured, chewing slowly. “Want to hear more?”

Continue reading “Zoey and Amber: Delicious” →

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

I remember the day I first laid eyes on your microscopic member. I couldn’t help but laugh at the pitiful sight. It looked like a shriveled up prune, a sad little nub that could barely be called a manhood. And the way it flopped around futilely, as if it thought it had a chance at bringing anyone pleasure. How adorable. And yet, how pathetic.

You tried to protest when I first threatened to cage that tiny prick of yours. “What if I get aroused?” you whined. As if your pathetic arousal meant anything to me. The only function your dick has is to bring me amusement now.

Continue reading “Your Microscopic Member” →

Mistress Gets What Mistress Wants pt3

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

Pt2

I walked to the big desk in my office and pointed to the surface. “Bend over this. Chest flat on the surface and hands holding the edge.” My big boy didn’t hesitate. He bent right over, watching my every move. I pulled my strapon out of the bottom drawer, and his eyes grew huge.

“Oh my god, are you serious?” He quivered. I ignored him as I removed my dress and buckled the harness over my hips. Standing behind my desk in only my thigh highs, heels, and bra, I stroked the floppy eight-inch dildo and tapped it against his mouth.

Continue reading “Mistress Gets What Mistress Wants pt3” →

Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403

You haven’t experienced life until you’ve experienced Zoey on top.  All the sexual positions are super fun.  I’ll never say no to being put on my hand and knees and banged from behind.  But sometimes you just need to lay back and let me take some control.  You just need to trust me to ride you the perfect way.  It’s the ride of your life that you’ll never forget.  I haven’t had anyone regret letting me climb on top of their cock and bounce them into oblivion.  But it’s not just about climbing on and make you cum and draining that cock.  Which is definitely a goal.  However, there’s so much more that will lead up to my being on top of you.

Continue reading “Zoey On Top Riding Your Cock” →

Perv Tax Season

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

We listen and we don’t judge…

Sort of. Sure, we’re no taboo, and you filthy boys get to explore your fantasies and fetishes by pushing the limits of your desires. Sometimes, it’s even us girls pushing you to jerk off to nastier, darker topics. Illegal things, even. Because it feels so good to ruin you, HOWEVER, some pervs want things so disgusting that they deserve to be taxed just for entering the chatroom. Welcome to perv tax season, you filthy fucks. Things are about to get expensive. Continue reading “Perv Tax Season” →

paypig

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The neon glow of the laptop screen reflected in Mark’s tired eyes. Another Friday night, another weekly ritual. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple as he navigated to my profile. Just the sight of it sent a shiver of anticipation, laced with a familiar dread, down his spine. He was a paypig, and me, a Goddess. It was a dynamic we’d established months ago, a strange, consensual game of power and submission. He knew the rules, the boundaries, and the consequences of breaking them – or rather, failing to meet them.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, a battle raging within him. He knew what I expected. The usual “wallet rinsing,” as I playfully called it. A significant chunk of his paycheck, willingly surrendered to my coffers. He tried to resist, truly. He’d set up budgeting apps, tried to distract himself with hobbies, even considered deleting his social media accounts. But the pull was too strong. It was the anticipation, the thrill of the transgression, the feeling of belonging, however twisted, that kept him coming back.

Continue reading “another weekly ritual” →

Uh oh- Guess What I Found

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

Uh oh! Don’t you just hate when the nasty, filthy fucking things you do in the dark come out to the light. You thought you were careful. You tried so hard to keep things a secret, but guess what I found? The kitty is really out of the bag now, and I guess we’ll have to see what you’re willing to do to keep me quiet.

See the other day I was forcing a sissy to suck cock. His first one! A very exciting time. As we were scrolling through a particular site, you know, one for fags. Guess whose picture I just happened to stumble upon?!

Continue reading “Uh oh- Guess What I Found” →

gaming

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I smirked, perched on the edge of Liam’s desk, my gaze raking over him. He was tied to his own gaming chair, a pathetic picture of frustrated desire. Miss Anna, a vision in black leather, circled him with her eyes laser-focused on his, her crimson-painted nails tapping against a riding crop she held with menacing grace.

“Having a little trouble, Liam?” I purred, my voice dripping with mock concern. He just groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, a sheen of sweat slicking his forehead. We’d given him a simple rule: hands behind his head, or else. But the little sub was struggling. “Please,” he gasped, eyes fluttering open to meet mine. “Please, Amber, I can’t! I can’t hold it.”

Continue reading “tied to his own gaming chair” →