Category: roleplays

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” →

spooky abdl blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Leo was a gentle giant, and seeing him in his Halloween costume always brought a fond smile to my face. “All ready, my little T-Rex?” I cooed, adjusting the scales on his neck. He rumbled, a sound that was more purr than roar, and nodded. Decked out in my own witch costume and looking a bit more gothic than glittery, I grabbed his oversized candy bucket.

Our first few houses were normal enough. Leo showed off his stomping gait, polite “trick-or-treats,” and handfuls of candy. But, as we ventured further into the older part of town, the houses became more isolated and the decorations became more…well, authentic. Cobwebs hung thick and real from unkept bushes, and the air grew colder with each step.

Continue reading “A Spooky ABDL Halloween” →

succubus

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

My Succubus costume was cheap red vinyl and was slutty enough that I felt the wind lift the hem with every step. I’d spent an hour applying black as night liquid eyeliner and slicking on the perfect shade of red lip gloss that tasted like artificial cherry and bad decisions. I wanted every eye on me. The kind of attention that made lesser girls blush, the kind that promised chaos.

I moved through the crush of masked students like I owned the ground, thriving on the whistles and the lingering stares. Every glance felt like a currency, and I was rolling in it. That’s when I saw him. He was standing alone, leaning against the wrought-iron fence of an old, unused cemetery that bordered the sidewalk—a classic mistake, I realized later.

Continue reading “The Succubus” →

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

I’ve made a grave mistake. As the undertaker, it’s my job to prepare my clients for their first event in permanent darkness. Most often, families want to present their loved ones one last time wearing something elegant. So a wedding dress or tuxedo isn’t unusual.

I’m telling you this because it’s how my mistake started. A man came in six weeks ago. He was beautiful even in his state. I was informed he had met his maker while cheating on his wife with some hot piece of ass from his office. His heart couldn’t handle the excitement, and he departed with a hard-on. A very large hard-on, to be precise. Of course, his wife was embarrassed and humiliated, and requested that I find a way to hide it. I sure did find a way! And that way got me pregnant!

Continue reading “Pregnant Undertaker” →

breeding

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

My hand trembled slightly as I pulled it back from Mr. Thorne’s firm grip. This was the biggest deal of my career, and it was done. “To celebrate, Stella,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “you must join me for dinner.” I accepted. The restaurant was upscale, the drinks flowed, and his eyes, dark and intense, seemed to see through me, past the business woman, to something deeper.

Dinner ended, but the night was young. “One more drink?” he asked, his hand lightly on my arm as we stepped out into the cool city air. The ‘one more drink’ became two, then three, in a dimly lit bar where the music was soft and the world outside faded. He leaned closer, his scent, a mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely masculine, filling my senses. My usual discipline, my careful boundaries, began to dissolve.

Continue reading “The Biggest Deal of My Career Phonesex” →

Amateur Night For Sissy Slut Bob

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

If you’ve been following Bob’s story, you know that he once was a pathetic, lazy boyfriend. A real bitch, if I’m being honest. All he ever did was laze about and play video games. He never helped with house chores or tidying up, and whenever I pushed him to get a job, he came up with a plethora of excuses. I’m too hot and too successful to allow a MAN to leech off of me.

I put my Red Bottoms down! If Bob wasn’t going to contribute his way, he would CUMTRIBUTE my way! I turned that slut out! He looked like such a sissy slut faggot in the lingerie I put him in and forced him into a gang bang at the apartment. Not long after, I hauled his ass down to the gay club and handcuffed him to the urinal, but ya know? He just still wasn’t making enough money by whoring out his holes to make me feel like he was an equal partner. I decided it was time for him to be a star at amateur night.

Continue reading “Amateur Night For Sissy Slut Bob” →

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” →

********* blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

My current curiosity belonged to Elias. He was the perfect, arrogant prince of his small, modern kingdom. A penthouse suite protected by layers of steel and, most deliciously, a web of high-definition security cameras. He was a man who believed in control, which meant he feared observation most of all.

I was the only one who truly saw the fissures in his flawless exterior, the things he typed only when he thought the Wi-Fi was off, the desires he locked away when the moon turned cold. This information was my leverage, far more potent than any rotten apple or ill-gotten jewel. I knew what I wanted and would stop at nothing to get it.

Continue reading “Milking Information From My Arrogant Prince” →

friend

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Dirty Auntie Anna decided to surprise her naughty nephew. She had missed playing with him and fucking him. She thought it would be fun to drop by unannounced, and so she left the bar she was at, slutty as ever and prowled her way to her nephew’s doorstep.

Continue reading “Dirty Auntie Anna, her Nephew and his Friend” →

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” →