Category: erotic story

cock witch

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

They call me ‘The Collector.’ My coven might raise a brow at my methods, but they don’t understand the relentless ache, the void only true satisfaction can fill. I am predacious by nature, preying only on those submissive men who believe their shriveled cocks are enough. They read the runes, they sign the parchments, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and fervent hope. They know the terms: if they do not measure up, they become an offering. An ornament. A keepsake.

I had another one show up tonight. A nervous young man, all trembling anticipation, stood before my altar. The scent of black candles and patchouli filled the chamber. He stripped, his body a canvas for my scrutiny. I circled him, my gaze a physical weight, assessing. My eyes, usually a calming forest green, glowed with a faint, reddish heat.

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Lead By Example

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

A good trainer is someone who understands the importance of leading by example. I wouldn’t make my sissies do anything that I myself wouldn’t or haven’t done. So when it comes to a new sissies first time sucking cock, I love to make them dress up and watch me give head.

It’s so emasculating, that first time. To be in panties and stockings in front of another man. A real man. One who is about to get pleasured in front of you while you are denied the satisfaction. It’s the first time a sissy learns that serving isn’t about them and that they should begin to welcome denial.

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slut

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The message from Puppet always started the same way: a desperate plea. He called it a “hang out,” but I knew what he really meant. “She’s in the other room,” he whispered, his voice thin and shaky as he called. “Just…just come. Please, Stella. I need you to see me.”

See him. He always wanted me to see him. It was a game, a twisted reflection of his own pathetic cravings. I felt nothing but a cold amusement. He was a puppet, all right, and I held the strings. The back door creaked as he let me in, his eyes darting to the hallway, then back to me, wide with a mixture of fear and desperate excitement.

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family fun

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Jorge emerged into my life every so often, bringing with him a fetish that most would consider very taboo: his mother. You see, theirs is a relationship that simply doesn’t fit into any of the neat boxes society has constructed. It was during one of these calls that Jorge first spoke of the attic discovery, a trove of old photographs. He described finding pictures of his mother from a time long before he was even a twinkle in her eye.

These weren’t just any old family snapshots; they were stunning, provocative images of a woman in various states of alluring undress, capturing a bygone era’s essence of beauty and sensuality. I remembered the thrill of seeing them for the first time, a genuine appreciation for the artistry and the raw, uninhibited glamour she exuded, making her truly a regular pinup girl, a testament to timeless allure preserved on faded paper.

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prissy sissy

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

They all want the same thing: to shed the heavy cloak of their ingrained manliness and embrace the exquisite lightness of a prissy sissy. To them, I am Mistress Amber, and that title is the first lesson. They come to me, not as men, but as puzzles. Rough, unrefined lumps of masculine expectation, yearning for the delicate touch of my chisel.

My studio is a sanctuary of silks and satins, of soft lighting and the sweet, cloying scent of powders and perfumes. It’s where I perform my artistry. I don’t just dress them in lace and satin, though that is a crucial step. The goal is to ultimately reshape them, from the inside out. Their posture, once broad and assertive, must become pliant, shoulders gently sloped, hands clasped demurely. Their voices, those booming declarations of male ego, must soften, rise, become breathy and almost apologetic.

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gang bang blog

Jamie 1-844-332-2639 ext 461

I love weiners. It’s not a secret, not really. It’s more of an operating principle. A hunger. Tonight, the hunger felt particularly strong, mixed with something colder. It wasn’t about pleasure, not exactly, not tonight. Tonight it was about filling a void, a hollow place that echoed with every breath. Three of them were already there, sprawled on the floor, passing a bottle of something cheap and smelling of regret. Two more were on their way, or so I’d been told. Good. The more, the better. More bodies, more heat, more noise to block out the silence inside my own head.

I watched them roll their eyes over me, appraising. A part of me, a small, shriveled part, recoiled. But the larger part, the hungry one, just felt a numb sort of anticipation. It wasn’t about being wanted, it was about being consumed. About letting go of the reins and letting the current take me. The first one, a burly guy named Mick or Mark, I forget, pulled me down. His breath was sour with whatever he had been drinking. There was no tenderness, no soft words.

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alien sex blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

My little boudoir, tucked away in the shadows of the Neo-Quebecois arcologies, is more of an intergalactic pit stop than a massage parlour. Earthlings? Pah! They are so predictable. Most prefer vanilla sex, some maybe throw in an interesting fetish or two every so often. But the extra-terrestrials? Give me a multi-limbed sentient cloud anytime. They know how to live!

It wasn’t always like this, of course. Back on old Earth, it was all just…well, skinflute city. I can’t count how many boring blowjobs I’ve dolled out over the years. Then the galactic gates opened, the tourists arrived, and suddenly, there was a whole new world of anatomy to explore. And let me tell you, when a Tralfamadorian senator offers triple credits just to have you gently hum while they regenerate their epidermal layer, you don’t say no. Especially when their epidermal layer looks like a shimmering, bioluminescent silk cocoon. It’s surprisingly peaceful, a bit like watching a very slow, very expensive lava lamp.

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naughty stepmom

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

My stepson Johnny is a charming young man with a captivating smile and a hint of innocence in his eyes. We hit it off immediately. I could tell he was inexperienced in many areas of life, but there was a raw, untamed desire in him that I found irresistible. So, when his father went away on a business trip, I decided to teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.

“I’ve never done this before,” he confessed as I lead him to the bedroom. I could see the nervousness in his eyes, but I also saw the hunger. “Don’t worry, Johnny,” I purred, “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” I turned to face him, my eyes never leaving his. “First rule,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the buttons of his shirt, “always undress your partner slowly.”

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Amber Chaperons Alexus' Professional Hypno-Therapy Part Three

Trans Goddess Alexus 1844-332-2639 Ext 349

Part two

One of Russel’s triggers is that his cock swells at the sound of my name. He also can not cum unless I demand it. This makes a very achy, blue-balled boy when he tries to avoid his hypnotherapy sessions. “Alexus, you’re so good.” Amber purred, which made Russel’s cock jump to attention.

“He has to do anything we say now.” I put down my notebook and stood up to grip Russel’s shoulders and lay him back on the chaise lounge.

“Must do anything, Mistress says,” Russel repeated in a daze.

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family fun

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I walk into the kitchen, where you’re making lunch. Watching you, I can see the sweat on your back, the way your shirt clings to your skin. I walk up behind you, pressing my body against yours. “You know, I’ve been thinking about you all day, Paulie,” I announce. “The way your muscles flex as you move around the house, the way your jeans hug your ass. I’ve been wanting to fuck you for years, thinking about how good it would feel to have you inside me.”

You turn around, a smirk on your face. “Is that so?” you ask, your hands finding my hips. “And what makes you think I want to fuck you, Amber?” I grin, my hands moving to your chest. “Because I know you do,” I say, my fingers tracing the lines of your muscles. “I know you’ve been wanting to fuck me for years, just like I’ve been wanting to fuck you.”

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