Category: fetish phonesex

domme blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I’m a domme who loves to punish men who drool over me. I don’t like them, I like that they pay me. Today, I’ve got a new client, a man named Jack. He’s a regular caller, but this is our first time talking. I answer the call with a sultry “Oui Bonjour, Jack.” He stammers, “H-hi, Stella.” I can hear the nervousness in his voice, and it makes my pussy tingle. I love the power I have over these men. “So, Jack, tell me, what do you want to talk about today?” I ask, my voice dripping with seduction. He hesitates then says, “I…I want to talk about…you.”

I laugh, a deep, throaty sound. “Oh, Jack, you’re a naughty boy, aren’t you? You want to talk about me? Well, let’s talk about my body, then.” I describe my curves, my small but full breasts, my tight ass, and my wet pussy. I can hear his breathing quicken, and I know he’s touching his cock. They all sound the same when they touch it. I smile, knowing I have him under my control. “Imagine my hands on your dick, Jack.

Continue reading “I like that they pay me” →

TS Alexus 844-332-2639 EXT 349

Abusive throat fucking isn’t just for brainless bimbos. I’ve concluded that every homophobic, closed-minded boy bitch needs to have his throat stretched open by this TS Goddess and my perfect shecock. Sissy whores and thirsty females jump on my cock all day long, but I’m itching for a challenge.

That’s right; I’m talking about you. The macho man always takes what he wants and demands nothing short of perfection. Your time on top is over; now you’ll kneel before me and gargle my hot spunk like a good boy.

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

It was a four hour road trip to my friend’s ranch. The weather was beautiful. It was a sunny spring day. So I decided to put the top down, turn the music up, and enjoy the long drive. About an hour and a half in, I found myself on a desolate highway. Suddenly I had what I thought at the time was a brilliant idea. I could sunbathe while driving. First, I took off my t-shirt. Then somehow, I managed to get my jean shorts off. So I was driving along in my lacy turquoise bra and panty set. But then I decided that I really didn’t want tan lines. And no one was around. So I thought I might as well take my bra and panties off. I threw them into the passenger seat with my clothes. And there I was driving down the highway naked with the top down and my hair flying in the wind. When all of a sudden, a big gust of wind swooped in. And all of my clothes started flying out. Then I realized that I was going to have to go retrieve my clothes while completely naked. I was mortified.

Continue reading “Four Hour Road Trip” →

Dominant Man

Avery 1-844-332-2639 ext. 228

My true weakness is a sexy, dominant man. I know that I come across as an outgoing girl, but I’m really just a submissive teen at heart. Sometimes I love giving up all control to a dominant man and being the submissive slut that so many of you have come to know and love.

Continue reading “I Need A Dominant Man To Own My Pussy” →

espresso

 Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203              ☏ ☏ ☏        Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403

Mommy Anna was preparing a special dinner. She had Little Zoey and Ronnie help her prepare everything: cutting up the vegetables, toasting bread, and then she made them set the table just right. Zoey was a perfectionist and she made sure to correct Ronnie every time he cut a vegetable the wrong way, or folded the napkins wrong at the dinner table.

Continue reading “Naughty Ronnie just can’t behave” →

Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

He likes my feet, of all things. It was bikini week at work again. I had a customer that was telling me about how he’s a content creator. He said that he likes to help girls get started on subscription only websites. Supposedly he helps them make a lot of money selling content. I began to wonder if he was at the breastaurant to scout out new girls to promote.

When it was time for my break I headed out to take a quick dip in the pool. I got out so that I would have time to dry off before my break was over. By that time he had made his way outside. He was just watching all of the girls. Then he called me over to talk.  He told me that he knew how I could make some serious money. And there wouldn’t have to be any nudity involved. And I wouldn’t even have to show my face. This all sounded so perfect for me. But I wondered how on earth I would be able to do that. That’s when he told me that it’s my feet. He told me that I have the cutest little feet.

Continue reading “He Likes My Feet” →

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

Mom already has a little pool tote packed and is waiting on me, but I can’t decide on which bikini I wanna tease you with. We’ve been neighbors for a few years, and you’ve finally invited us to spend the day enjoying your big pool. I know my mom thinks you like her, but obviously, you’d want someone my age. Someone to keep you young!
Jessica, my mom, keeps telling me to hurry up and that being late when the house is right next door is inexcusable. I picked a tiny red bikini a friend left at the house last summer. It’s a little too small for me; it shows way more tits than she would ever allow and rides up my ass like a thong.

I yank on some jean cut-off shorts to cover it and a white button-up blouse. Next, I run into my flip-flops and jog down the stairs, telling her I’m ready. I see her bag and ask what she could need when it’s right next door. Mom’s wearing a sensible black tankini, but her massive tits still threaten to spill over the top. The back is all open, showing her smooth skin, and she has a sheer black wrap skirt around her hips, giving just a hint of her thick thighs as she walks. She looks down in the bag and shrugs. “Towles, sunscreen, clothes to change into if we get cold.”

Continue reading “Shrunken Little Pool Toy” →

findom blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Corey was always so eager. It was almost endearing. But then, softness wasn’t what he paid for, was it? He paid for the sharpest edge of my expectations, the cold precision of my demands, and the delicious humiliation that bloomed in his chest with every transaction. “Are you ready, sissy?” I typed, watching the ‘typing…’ indicator flicker on our private chat. A beat of silence, then his reply: “Yes, Mistress. Always ready.”

I smiled, a slow, controlled thing. He called himself a finsub, but to me, he was just Corey, my little piggy bank dressed in a perpetually apologetic expression, even through text. And a sissyboy, of course. That was the real fun of it. “Good. My new Louboutins are calling to me. They’re a rather fetching shade of scarlet, don’t you think?” I sent him a picture I’d pulled from the designer’s website – the most impractical, yet undeniably beautiful, pair of stilettos. “I think they would look perfect on me. Don’t you agree?”

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Submitting To Me Means Whenever I Want

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

Jensen is new to submission. He craves being entirely owned but hasn’t been very good at relinquishing control. To help him realize that once he’s submitted to me, it means I’ll use his body for my entertainment wherever we are, whenever I want, I came up with a little outing for us.

In a small purse, I packed a blindfold and handcuffs, then told Jensen I wanted to go out dancing. I wore a tight dress and itty bitty panties while he wore a nice button-up and black slacks. He had no idea what was in my bag, and it wouldn’t matter. He’d already agreed to give up all his choices when he submitted to me.

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ass

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

His deep blue eyes, wide with a mixture of shock and fervent admiration, were locked onto me. A villainess doesn’t beg. She commands. That primal scent, a mix of leather and something else entirely, intensified. His earlier indignation had vanished, replaced by an unmistakable hunger. He was no longer the man about to call the authorities; he was merely a man. A man caught in the web I had so carefully, so deliberately, spun.

I straightened slowly, the motion deliberate, the ripped catsuit revealing just enough, yet leaving the rest to his imagination – or perhaps, his memory. The stiletto heels clicked again as I turned, a slow pivot that allowed the light to glide across the gleaming patent leather, across the exposed curve. I didn’t need to speak. The silence was louder than any words. It was filled with the thrum of his heartbeat, the rapid, shallow breaths he couldn’t quite control.

Continue reading “A villainess doesn’t beg” →