Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
They sit on the floor. Backs straight, eyes down. The room is dim. My heels click once as I cross my legs. I wear black silk, with gloves up to my elbows. Hair slicked back. I do not smile. They do not speak unless I say.
Jean trembles. I see it in his hands, folded in his lap. Luc breathes too loud. They wait for me. But I am not in a hurry. We have all night. I open a small box. Inside, there is a silver toy. Jean lifts his eyes just a little. I snap my fingers.
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
Chris was a lanky, 23-year-old man with a longstanding habit of dramatically sighing whenever I produced his diaper from my sleeve. Like a magician with big tits. “Cory,” he’d say, his eyes rolling toward the cosmos, “must you always do the dramatic crinkle thing?”
I couldn’t help it! The crinkle was my love language. One particularly memorable Tuesday, as I prepared to unleash the crinkle on his post-chili-calamity mess, I realized I’d accidentally bought the “super-squishy, ultra-quiet” eco-diapers. Panic set in faster than Chris could say “I’m totally fine, really.”
Julie 1-844-332-2639 ext 453
Orgies with Cumhard are so freaking hot! Let’s put it this way, he comes by his nickname honestly. He’s a handsome man with sweet eyes and an innocent smile. But don’t let that fool you. He’s a very virile man with the sexual stamina of a stallion. He can easily handle a dozen or more girls at once.
The other day, Amber, Cory, and I had the pleasure. It all started when we were sitting around at work waiting for some action. Cory was sitting there playing with herself. And Amber was sucking on my tits. That’s when Cumhard walked in. “What’s going on in here, ladies?” He asked with a devious grin and pure excitement in his eyes. We confessed, “we were just fantasizing about an orgy with you”. He took off his shirt and we took off his pants and started playing with his cock and balls. Amber and Cory started sucking on his balls while I was sucked on his cock.
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!
Rita 844-33-CANDY Ext 413
The holiday season always brings so many parades. Light parades, float parades, Grinch parades! I mean, every weekend in December, you can find somewhere to watch a beautiful display. It gave me an idea! I called up each of the Candy girls and invited them to what I’d call my Shackled Parade. Each of us would bring and dress up a sissy doll to parade in front of the other girls.
Only, as the name suggests, each sissy would have shackles around their hands and ankles. The girls were giddy and accepted excitedly! I knew exactly how I’d dress my slut!
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
He bowed his head as I circled him. Slowly. Deliberately. He didn’t move. He was a perfect statue of obedience. “It is the season for giving, isn’t it, pet?” I whispered. He shivered. “But you know I don’t give things away. I take them. And you are mine to take.”
I picked up the items I had laid out on the high table. First, the ribbon. Not the flimsy kind, but thick, expensive satin. I used it to bind his wrists behind his back, pulling the knot hard until I heard a faint, satisfying moan. I tied his ankles together next, ensuring he couldn’t even shift his weight without fighting the slippery silk. He was perfectly secured, kneeling like a forgotten ornament.
Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453
He loves my feet! I mean, I always knew he thought they were cute. And I knew he had a little bit of an obsession with my shoes and toenail polish. The first thing he would do when I saw him was look down at my feet. He was so curious about the shoes I was wearing and what color of toenail polish I had on. But I thought that he just thought my feet were cute. I didn’t realize he had a full on foot fetish, specifically with my feet. Until the day he confessed to me. He told me that the very first day he met me and saw my feet, he knew he had to have them. Not “me”, “them!” He told me that he had never seen feet that cute, perfect, and sexy in his entire life. I was beginning to feel a little self conscious at this point. Especially because of the way he was acting. He couldn’t take his eyes off my feet while he was telling me about his addiction to them. His eyes turned feral and he started to salivate.
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.