Category: humiliation

Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

He came into work. I saw him point to me. He wanted to sit in my section. I had never seen him before. But he was loud, blunt and to the point. He ordered a big mug of beer. Then he proceeded to tell me that he’s a paypig. The more he drank, the louder he got. They finally asked him to leave but he was oinking for me all the way out the door. I couldn’t stop thinking about him all night long. Finally when my shift was over, I headed out to my car. As I approached it, I heard him oinking at me. Then he came over to me on all fours. He literally started throwing money at me. And kept telling me how pathetic he is and what a loser he is. All I could do was giggle. He kept asking me how old I was. Every time I said nineteen, his boner started dripping and he started throwing more money at me. I had never seen anything like it. Then he started saying that he wants to suck and fuck cock. Every time a man would walk by, he would start panting and throwing money.

Continue reading “My Little Paypig” →

☏ Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403 ☏

☏ Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203 ☏

 

 

Mommy Anna was wrapping presents and asked little sister Zoey and Big brother Ronnie to help. They formed a production line where one person would cut the wrapping paper, the other would wrap and the third would tape it up. It was quite a good system, until Mommy Anna’s lover called.

Continue reading “Ronnie and Zoey’ Naughty Gift Wrap” →

Santa submits

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

One day, I get a very special client. It was Santa Claus. Yes, THE Santa Claus. He comes to me and says, “Stella, I need your help. I am always giving, always making others happy. But I want to feel something different. I want to feel submission.”

I am surprised. Santa Claus, the man who brings joy to everyone, wants to be submissive? I accept the challenge. I tell him to call me “Mistress Stella” and to do exactly as I say. Santa comes to my place, wearing his big red suit. I tell him to take it off and wear something more comfortable. He obeys, and soon he is in a little black shirt and pants. I like it.

Continue reading “Even Santa Claus Submits” →

My Heels Are Bigger

Trans Goddess Alexus 1844-332-2639 Ext 349

My standard rule is if my dick is bigger than yours, I get to be the top. It only makes sense; no one wants to get fucked by a small dick, and I deserve at least six and a half inches if I’m going to bend over. However, since it’s the season of giving, I’ll be generous and spread my cheeks for you if your dick is bigger than my heels.

Oh, no… My heels are bigger?! You don’t even have five inches in your pants? How do you even call yourself a man?

Continue reading “My Heels Are Bigger” →

cock size

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It was another one of our infamous “Mama Meet-Ups,” a glorious gathering of us doting ABDL Mamas, where the coffee flowed, the gossip swirled, and, inevitably, the “boys” became the star of every conversation. I always looked forward to seeing my dear friends, Sarah and Jessica, knowing full well what delightful (and slightly competitive) chatter lay ahead. Our living rooms, usually adorned with adult-sized baby gear and pastel colors, transformed into arenas where we’d playfully boast about our boys, their latest achievements, their prodigious appetites, and, well, their more personal “assets.”

No sooner had the kettle whistled its last tune and the first round of cocoa been served, than Sarah, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, leaned forward and whispered “Oh, you guys simply wouldn’t believe what my Big Max did this morning! He filled out his special ‘super-duper-absorbent’ diaper like it was tailor-made, bulging in all the right places, of course. He’s just getting so robust, you know!”

Continue reading “Tiny Timmy and The Mama Meet-Up” →

Pussy Free

Rita 844-33-CANDY Ext 413

God, how does it feel being a pussy free loser? The best part of it all is you don’t even have a little dick. Most pussy free idiots aren’t that way by choice. They are born with a two-inch prick that no female wants. Not you, though, you’re handsome, or at least most people think so, intelligent, and funny. Yet, look at what I’ve turned you into.

A broke dick gooner who can’t cum without being humiliated by a beautiful woman you’ll never sink your dick into. Are you embarrassed? Because you should be.

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Teeny Weenie

Avery 1-844-332-2639 ext. 228

Your teeny weenie is useless to me, so it’s a good thing you’re about to call me for small penis humiliation phone sex. I love giving losers like you tasks to do. All kinds of things you can do for me to make me laugh.

You know what makes me so mad about guys like you? That if you’re wearing pants women who are just out and about in the world don’t know how unfortunate your dick is. They have no way of knowing you have a lame dick because it’s covered up. That’s really not fair to them, is it?
Continue reading “A Teeny Weenie Always Makes Me Laugh” →

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

My friend spent months venting to me about her ex. She would go on and on about how pathetic he was, giving me vivid details about their sex life. I think she wanted me to be as disgusted as she was. But what she didn’t know is that I was quite intrigued. I’d finally heard enough. I was bound and determined to find out for myself if all of it was true. She told me that he loved to watch her fuck other people. It didn’t matter who it was. She could pick them out. And she said she did. There were men, women, and sometimes both at once. She told me that he loved to clean out all of her holes afterwards. Then she told me that he was such a loser because he would come within seconds. But then he would be hard again. He was multi orgasmic. Oh, and he was balding, which she absolutely hated. What she didn’t know was that all of that turned me on and I wanted to experience it firsthand. So one night  I decided to go to the bar he frequented. He didn’t know who I was. But I told him.

Continue reading “My Friend’s Ex” →

vampire domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Stalking me through the dim labyrinth of the old city, the vampire had likely intended to make me his next meal. His kind always did—arrogant, immortal creatures who thought they were untouchable. But I knew his type well. Desire coiled beneath the surface of his insidious grace, an itch beyond the thirst for my veins.

I let him follow me into the shadows of an abandoned theater, the scent of dust and decay clinging to the velvet seats. Then I turned to face him, arms crossed beneath my chest, the curve of my corset pressing my body in ways I knew would taunt him. “You’ve been watching me,” I murmured, tilting my head. “Do I fascinate you?”

Continue reading “Stella The Vampire Tamer” →

wetting pants

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was standing impatiently in the endless line for the artisanal coffee stand when my attention drifted to a man near the condiment station. He looked utterly normal, mid-forties, sporting the kind of practical, slightly too-long khaki shorts that scream “I own a reliable minivan and believe strongly in SPF 50.” He was fiddling intently with a massive travel mug, his brow furrowed in concentration, which made him a captivating, if mildly mundane, subject for my habitual people-watching session. Which is essentially my only viable defense against the soul-crushing boredom of waiting for overpriced caffeine.

Then it happened, with a swift, silent efficiency that defied the laws of polite public existence. My eye, tracking the slight shuffle of his feet as he adjusted his weight, caught a dark spot blooming rapidly on the front of those sensible khaki shorts, right where the pocket met the thigh, and it was spreading with an alarming, undeniable velocity. Initially, my brain tried to categorize the event as a catastrophic coffee spill—perhaps a sudden rupture in the travel mug’s sealing mechanism.

Continue reading “The Man In The Khaki Shorts” →