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”

sissy bitch

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I checked my watch. Exactly 8:00 PM. No need for rushing. That is the first rule of control. A Domme never rushes. The air was cool. I like it that way; it makes the submissive shiver a little, even without fear. He was already kneeling on the thick, dark rug, waiting. He never looked up until I told him to.

Today, he was wearing the pale pink satin nightie I had selected, the cheap lace scratching his skin. His face was painted heavy, the makeup slightly smudged around the eyes from nervous anticipation. He was not a man now; he was my project. He was my sissy bitch.

Continue reading “The Rules of Control”

If You Dress Like a Girl ...

Trans Goddess Alexus 1844-332-2639 Ext 349

I know you worry about people thinking you’re a gay boy but the truth is, if you dress like a girl when you suck cock it still makes you a heterosexual. There is nothing gay about a girl with a cock in her mouth. It doesn’t matter how hard your little faggot dick gets inside the pretty panties stretched over your tiny boner.

It doesn’t matter that you cup your manboobs inside of the soft bra and lick your lips for another taste of more cum. So long as you’re dressed like a girl it’s totally striaght.

Continue reading “If You Dress Like a Girl …”

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna was dating an educated professional. Little did he know, he was just the flavor of the week. He was smart, successful, he had everything going for him. But Miss Anna absolutely hated him. She couldn’t stand him. And the more she avoided him and treated him like the dirt, the more he would pursue her, insisting of his likeness to her.

Continue reading “Another Cuck Another Day”

domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

My basement isn’t for old boxes. It’s for pleasure. And this week, it held Jacques. The chains were thick but soft. Not to hurt him, just to hold him. He was stretched out on the cold stone floor, a thick mat beneath him, with his arms and legs secured. On the first day, he looked excited, but a little nervous too. I just smiled. “Welcome,” I whispered, and his whole body tensed.

I started slow. Just walking around him, my bare feet silent on the floor. I wore a thin robe, the silk brushing my skin. His eyes, usually so confident, were wide and fixed only on me. I could feel his gaze like a physical touch. I bent down, just out of his reach, letting my robe open a little, showing the curve of my thigh. He made a low sound, a guttural groan.

Continue reading “My Basement”

cuck

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I like a little spice, a little mystery, you know? But the guy I just moved in with seems to be settling into this domestic bliss routine, and I’m starting to get a little bored. So, I decided to inject a little excitement into our lives, a little spark. Nothing too drastic, of course. Just enough to keep him on his toes, enough to make him wonder if he’s losing his mind. And what better way to do that than with a little harmless flirting with his best friend?

It all started innocently enough. Just a lingering glance here, a suggestive text there. Nothing he could really point to, nothing that would obviously raise red flags. But it was enough to stir the pot, to plant a tiny seed of doubt in his mind. He started asking questions, subtle at first. “Did you hear from Mark today?” “Did you guys have a good time at the game?” I’d just smile and shrug, playing the doting girlfriend. Letting him stew in his own confusion was all part of the plan.

Continue reading “A Little Spice”

boss

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna had been assigned a new boss at work. She immediately couldn’t stand him at first sight. He seemed like a real prude. He would correct everything she did, and make her even re-do assignments over and over.

Continue reading “Miss Anna’s New Boss”

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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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.

Continue reading “Pathetic Puppet”

nephew

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Auntie Anna was baby sitting her naughty nephew. He thought that she wasn’t aware of his panty fetish, but she knew all along. Every time she’d go in the shower, he would proceed to raid her closet and steal at least one pair. Miss Anna’s carpet was so clean and perfectly vaccumed that she always noticed his footprints in the carpet pattern after he left. This time she had had enough.

Continue reading “Dirty Auntie Anna”