Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I call it my gallery, though most would call it a dungeon. People focus too much on the wreckage of souls left behind in my wake, but never enough on the tools that craft such transformations. I walk the length of the room, as my heels click against the polished floor. To my left, the rack of whips perfectly catches the dim light. They are my finest instruments, with each one balanced to a fraction of an ounce. I use them frequently and adoringly.

Further down the wall, protected behind glass, lies my collection of heavy iron toys. These are for when I require total stillness. The weighted spreaders, the chrome-plated clamps, and the intricate, velvet lined locks all look so pretty in their perfect places. Each piece is a masterpiece of cold, unyielding geometry. I love the way they look…clean, clinical, and utterly indifferent to the humanity they are meant to restrain.

Continue reading “dungeon tools”

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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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

The forest floor trembled beneath my heavy steps as my gaze finally settled on the minuscule figure scurrying frantically between the moss-covered rocks. His frantic movements and high-pitched, unintelligible squeaks were a delightful contrast to my own immense size. I knelt down with a playful smirk, blocking his path with a single finger that was thicker than his entire body, and watched with immense amusement as he tumbled backward in a fit of panicked confusion.

I brought him up toward my face, pinching him gently between my thumb and forefinger so I could admire the way he kicked and struggled against my hold. He was such a frantic little thing! His eyes widened in utter disbelief as he realized exactly what kind of plaything he had become for the afternoon.

Continue reading “Vore On The Forest Floor”

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I checked my reflection in the darkened window of a parked car. My lipstick was a precise, bruised plum. To the casual observer, I was just a woman out for a crisp, midnight walk. But, to the ones I was hunting, I was a gravitational pull they had no intention of resisting.

Most men looked at me with a mix of hunger and entitlement. Those I ignored. I was looking for cues like the tremor in a hand, the way a shoulder dropped when I made prolonged eye contact, and the subtle, pathetic eagerness hidden behind a mask of indifference.

Continue reading “just a woman out for a crisp, midnight walk.”

Gabrielle 1-844-332-2639 ext 469

I have a secret for you boys out there. Not speaking for all girls out there, just myself, but I love when super strong alpha males wear my panties. There’s just something so sexy and irresistible about it. So, the experiment we are trying tonight, I’m going to seduce my hubby into wearing my lacey purple thong from earlier today and see what we can make him do in them.

I ran a bunch of errands and even went to spin class earlier today. When I got home, I stripped down and stepped into the shower to wash the stresses from the day away. Little did I know, my hubby was home and spying on me. While I was soaping up my drenched body, he stole the dirty panties off the floor, stripped off his own under garments and gently put my thong on.

Continue reading “Let’s Try An Experiment”

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Dale was a man of quiet competence, held together by starched collars and a stoic demeanor that begged to be dismantled. I didn’t just want his attention, I wanted his surrender. We’d been flirting (well, he had been anyway) for months and he finally broke the stalemate one evening as everyone else was getting ready to leave for the day.

“Still working, Stella?” he asked. His voice sounded a little more vulnerable than usual. “No, actually,” I replied, standing slowly. “I was waiting for you.” He gave me a puzzled look, but I didn’t fill in the gap. Instead, I let the silence stretch until the air between us felt heavy and electric. “I think you’ve been looking for things you aren’t allowed to find, Dale.”

Continue reading “Competence”

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

He arrived at ten sharp, wearing an expensive suit and a Rolex that could’ve funded a small country. He smiled in a fake and predacious way when he saw me. “Stella,” he said, “I hear you’re an experience worth every penny.” He placed his leather briefcase on the mahogany desk and opened it, revealing a thick envelope full of cash, a stack of credit cards, and a signed contract. The initial request was that he wanted a session, but I wanted his ego. He just didn’t know it yet.

“Take a seat,” I said, gesturing to the leather chair across from me. The leather squeaked as he obliged, as his posture already flattened under his own weight. I let him linger a moment, watching his eyes dart to the sleek Manhattan skyline through the floor‑to‑ceiling windows. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize that he thought he owned everything that lay beyond that glass.

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mechanic roleplay

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

As I stood at the grease-stained counter of Miller’s Auto, I knew this conversation wasn’t gonna go as planned. “Three hundred and forty dollars,” Dave said, not looking up from his ledger. He was a man composed entirely of callouses and indifference. “New alternator, labor, plus the diagnostic fee…tax…”

I looked at the counter, then at my hands. Three hundred and forty dollars was a fantasy. My bank account was a haunting echo of two-digit numbers and my rent was looming like a storm cloud. I thought about the rusted sedan in the bay behind him. It was my only tether to a job that was already dangling by a thread. Without that car, I was nothing. Without that car, I was back on the street.

Continue reading “Miller’s Auto Shop”

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I flip the page. The paper makes a crisp sound against the silence. “Section 1: Manual Stimulation Protocol,” I recite, reading aloud as if plainly listing the maintenance steps for a failing engine. “Begin the rhythmic application of pressure in accordance with the provided metronome beat. Speed is currently set to sixty beats per minute. Any deviation in tempo will be noted as a failure in mechanical compliance.”

On my monitor, I watch him. He is trembling. Most men think this is about desire. They are wrong. It is about total hydraulic submission. It is about treating his body as an extension of my own apparatus. “Maintain grip,” I command. My tone is flat and clinical. “Apply lubricant to the friction points to ensure smooth operation of the interface. You are not permitted to deviate from the prescribed movement. If the system experiences an overload, you are to suppress the response. Stalling the mechanism is strictly prohibited.”

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Kinky Kara 1-844-332-2639 ext 306

I loved being in charge. Being the boss gave me a sense of power like nothing before. I was the person who called all the shots. I told everyone what to do. Either they did as I said or they find another place to work. Normally, that is the way things worked at most companies. Typically, this is the way my office operated as well. That is, until this day. Today was different. I found myself working a little later than usual. I could tell most of the cubicles were empty, and 95 percent of my staff had gone for the day, except for my assistant. He usually came to offer his services one last time before heading out for the day. Today was not the same. Continue reading “Power Shift”