Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203
Little Anna was playing with her big Cousin. They were playing with his toy cars and race track. She kept whining that he wouldn’t give her a turn on the track, but the truth was, he was scared she might break it.
☏ 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.
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.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
Santa’s workshop buzzed with the manic energy of Christmas. While other elves dangled dolls and wind-up trains from the ceiling like we were in a Christmas ornament factory, my job as Quality Control Manager was to test the sexy toys that would be left for adults under trees all over the world this year.
Today’s project involved Aaron, a twitchy new elf whose enthusiasm could’ve powered the North Pole’s entire workshop. He’d just unveiled his “ethically sourced” antler cock ring. “Structural integrity is paramount,” he’d said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Let’s test it,” I said professionally, while adjusting my candy-cane apron. Elf Academy didn’t cover this part in their “Sleighing the Holidays” curriculum, so it was my responsibility to train new hires on protocol.
Continue reading “Christmas Quality Control at the North Pole”
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
I stepped into the little storefront on the corner of Pine and Mistletoe, expecting only the comforting scent of peppermint and cocoa. What greeted me instead was a dazzling, over‑the‑top Christmas candy shoppe that doubled as something far naughtier. The walls were lined with jars of bright red gumdrops, sugar‑coated pretzels, and candy‑cane swirls, but nestled among those innocent treats were an assortment of sex toys that had been cheekily fashioned to look like confections.
As I meandered past the peppermint bark displays, I couldn’t help but notice a glossy, peppermint‑flavored dildo that shimmered like a giant crystallized candy cane. Its sleek, curved silhouette promised a delightfully deep, throbbing rhythm for anyone brave enough to indulge! Next, I saw a row of strawberry‑filled chocolate truffles. Each one was meticulously molded to a different size. Upon closer inspection, I realized they were in fact an array of vibrating butt plugs!
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
My best friend thinks my Friday nights are a delightful mix of artisanal cheese, documentaries, and early bedtimes. Oh, if only she knew the reality of what I get up to with her brother, Liam! Our secret, kinky rendezvous are the spice of my existence, and the highlight is always the grand reveal of my ever-growing collection of nipple clamps.
Tonight was a Christmas affair, naturally. Liam, bless his unsuspecting sister’s heart, strode into my apartment looking impossibly handsome, with a casual smirk already playing on his lips. He knew the drill. We naturally skipped the small talk, the Netflix suggestions, and the pretense of anything remotely platonic. His eyes immediately darted to the small velvet pouch I held in my hand.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
When I say fill me up, I mean it. For me, the greatest thrill, the purest joy, comes in the shape of a man’s penis. Call them what you want – weiners, cocks – for me, they are nothing more than hard pleasure. The sight of one, firm and eager, makes my breath catch.
I love the feeling of putting a big juicy cock in my mouth. Thick and warm, sliding over my tongue, filling my cheeks, pressing against the back of my throat. It’s a delicious test of how much I can take and how deep I can go. The way it stretches my jaw, pushing, pulsing, making me gasp for air even as I crave more.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
I have a serious thing for pantyhose. Not just an ‘Oh, these look nice with my skirt’ kind of thing. More like ‘If I could wallpaper my apartment with nude sheers, I absolutely would’ kind of thing. It’s an obsession, a fixation, a silky, glorious addiction. It started innocently enough. I had a preference for smooth legs under dresses. But then it escalated.
Now, the mere sight of a freshly opened packet of control tops sends a little shiver down my spine. The satisfying rustle as I pull them up, the way they hug every curve, the subtle sheen catching the light…it’s pure, unadulterated joy. I have an entire chest of drawers dedicated to my collection. Fishnets, opaques, sheers, shinies, matte, reinforced toe, open toe…you name it, I’ve got it, probably in three different colors.
xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208
“You’re in so much trouble,” Daddy announced himself as he stepped into the room. I was lying on my tummy playing on my phone. “Do you even know how much trouble you’re in?” He asked with a raised brow. I shrugged a single shoulder.
“Not much.” I sassed. It was hard to keep a straight face when bratting off, but I managed. He towered over me as he got closer, his shadow coming over the screen of my phone, causing me to look up at him.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
My shift has been long. The music is loud, the men are loud. On this stage, I am a queen, even if the crown is just a spotlight and the throne is a brass pole. They watch me, hands gripping their drinks, their eyes hungry. I give them a show. But inside, I feel empty. A machine on repeat. I need something real.
My set ends. The applause is sloppy. I grab my towel and head quickly toward the back hall. “Five minutes, Stella,” the DJ calls out. Five minutes. That’s enough time. I push open the door to the small storage closet near the ice machine. It smells like bleach and desperation. I lock the bolt quietly. No one ever comes back here. This dark, hidden place is mine.
Continue reading “My shift has been long and I need a break”