Tag: phone sex

findom blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Corey was always so eager. It was almost endearing. But then, softness wasn’t what he paid for, was it? He paid for the sharpest edge of my expectations, the cold precision of my demands, and the delicious humiliation that bloomed in his chest with every transaction. “Are you ready, sissy?” I typed, watching the ‘typing…’ indicator flicker on our private chat. A beat of silence, then his reply: “Yes, Mistress. Always ready.”

I smiled, a slow, controlled thing. He called himself a finsub, but to me, he was just Corey, my little piggy bank dressed in a perpetually apologetic expression, even through text. And a sissyboy, of course. That was the real fun of it. “Good. My new Louboutins are calling to me. They’re a rather fetching shade of scarlet, don’t you think?” I sent him a picture I’d pulled from the designer’s website – the most impractical, yet undeniably beautiful, pair of stilettos. “I think they would look perfect on me. Don’t you agree?”

Continue reading “softness wasn’t what he paid for” →

ass

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

His deep blue eyes, wide with a mixture of shock and fervent admiration, were locked onto me. A villainess doesn’t beg. She commands. That primal scent, a mix of leather and something else entirely, intensified. His earlier indignation had vanished, replaced by an unmistakable hunger. He was no longer the man about to call the authorities; he was merely a man. A man caught in the web I had so carefully, so deliberately, spun.

I straightened slowly, the motion deliberate, the ripped catsuit revealing just enough, yet leaving the rest to his imagination – or perhaps, his memory. The stiletto heels clicked again as I turned, a slow pivot that allowed the light to glide across the gleaming patent leather, across the exposed curve. I didn’t need to speak. The silence was louder than any words. It was filled with the thrum of his heartbeat, the rapid, shallow breaths he couldn’t quite control.

Continue reading “A villainess doesn’t beg” →

gooner

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Across the digital ether, I was spending my day with a loser. We all know the type. He wasn’t anything special or out of the ordinary, just your average gooner who’d found my corner of the internet. He paid me for my time, of course. What he bought, primarily, was attention. Curated, commodified attention. Sometimes a few pics—nothing too wild, just enough to keep the illusion alive. But what he really wanted, what he truly craved above all else, were those trigger words.

You know the ones I mean. Those exact phrases, spoken or typed, that would unravel some tightly wound spring inside him. Words that would trigger him to stroke and edge himself stupid, lost in his own private loop of self-abasement and gratification. I, the puppeteer, tugging on invisible strings with carefully chosen syllables. He, the puppet, dancing to a rhythm only he could hear.

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blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I glanced at the screen, and a name I hadn’t seen in over a year popped up: Scott. My ex-boyfriend, Scott. I stared for a second, wondering if it was some kind of mistake. Then the text itself loaded: ‘Hey, it’s Scott. Got a new phone, wanted to make sure you had my number.’ Um, why? Seriously. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but a reply felt unnecessary. What could he possibly want? And why now, after all this time? It’s been a full year since we spoke, since he walked in on me and Greg, since our whole world imploded.

I mean, ‘imploded’ sounds dramatic, but for me, it was more like a necessary demolition. Scott had become a lump. When he lost his job, I tried to be supportive, I really did. But days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and he just moped around the apartment, expecting me to pick up all the slack. Rent, groceries, bills – it all fell on my shoulders. It was overwhelming, frustrating, and frankly, I was drowning. I just needed an escape, you know? Something, anything, to make me feel alive again.

Continue reading “a name I hadn’t seen in over a year” →

sissy

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It started a few months ago when Violet, my beautiful, curvy sissy, had a little accident in public. She had been holding it in for hours, but the pressure became too much, and she couldn’t help but let go. She called me in a panic, ashamed and embarrassed, and I could hear the tears in her voice. I knew exactly what she needed. I calmly instructed her to go to the nearest public restroom and wait for me.

When I arrived, I saw her standing there, red-faced and trembling, her eyes filled with fear and anticipation. I didn’t waste any time. As punishment, I made her get on her knees, pull up her skirt, and lick my feet clean. The humiliation of the situation sent shivers down her spine, and I could see her body trembling with a mixture of shame and excitement.

Continue reading “Violet had an accident…again” →

findom

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Mark, bless his heart, shifted nervously on the edge of my worn velvet chaise lounge. His eyes, usually bright with a hopeful glint, were now clouded with a desperate hunger. He thought I liked him. He truly did. And maybe, in some twisted way, I did. But mostly, I liked the way the crisp hundred-dollar bills felt between my fingers after our sessions.

I moved with a practiced grace, as my many years of dance lessons finally started to pay off. I circled him slowly, my fingertips trailing lightly over the fabric of his neatly pressed shirt. He flinched at my touch, a tremor running through his body. He was so easy to control, a marionette dancing to the tune of my whispered commands. The rules were clear, etched in unspoken agreement between us. He could pump. He could stroke. But he could never, ever cum. He couldn’t touch me, but I could touch him. I was the conductor of this bizarre symphony of frustration, and he was my willing, albeit tormented, instrument. Nothing more than a plaything…A pet.

Continue reading “Mark thought I liked him” →

pegging

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Daniel had been hinting for weeks. Little comments about my strength, lingering eye contact that held a shade too much heat. I’m not blind. And honestly? I was curious. We were finishing up his last session when he dropped the bomb. “So, Cory,” he said, winded after I finally let him cum, “I was wondering…you ever, uh…you know…” He trailed off, a blush creeping up his neck. I smirked. “Peg someone?” I finished for him. He nearly spit out his water.

“I…well, yes. I’ve always been curious about what that would feel like.” Daniel was a handsome guy, all sculpted muscle and nervous energy. The thought of taking control and ass fucking him was more than appealing. “I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to explore that one together,” I admitted, figuring honesty was the best policy. His eyes widened. “Really?”

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ruined orgasm

1-844-332-2639 ext 404

“Ready when you are, Axel,” I said, trying to hide the sheer delight in my voice. Tonight, he had something particularly strange planned and I was pumped for it. “Okay, baby. I want you to take a jar of honey…” he began, his voice sounding low and suggestive. I followed his instructions, a strange mix of amusement and disgust swirling within me. The honey was cold and sticky against my skin as I dolloped it into the back of my panties, then lay down on my bed. Next came the caramel sauce, a thick, sugary stream down the front of my jeans. It was a disgusting concoction, the textures all wrong, the sensation was almost hilarious. I had a hard time not laughing.

As Axel urged me on, describing what he imagined, I started to play along, moaning and writhing as he encouraged me to rub my clit in that sticky mess. “Oh, Amber, you can’t cum yet,” Axel breathed, clearly satisfied with his plan. “You can only cum when I say so.” I lay there, covered in sticky goo, a smirk playing on my lips. “Typical!” I said, laughing. The next few minutes were a mix of edging and frustration, then Axel finally let me cum. I screamed as my body shook, and I squirted all over myself.

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abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

James was one of my regulars. He was a successful architect, intelligent and articulate in his professional life, but beneath the veneer of competence was a deep-seated need for comfort and discipline. The contrast was often poignant. He stood on the porch, clutching a worn teddy, his eyes wide and a little anxious. “Cory,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Hey, sweetie,” I replied, opening the door wider. “Come on in. It’s chilly out.”

He shuffled inside, immediately drawn to the cozy warmth of my living room. The scent of lavender and vanilla filled the air, the soft lighting casting a comforting glow. A playpen sat discreetly in the corner, surrounded by toys and plush blankets. It was a sanctuary. “Rough day?” I asked, gesturing towards the plush armchair. He nodded, burying his face in the teddy. “Mr. Henderson keeps micromanaging everything.” I knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Sounds stressful, honey. Did you remember to wear your pull-up today?” He nodded again, a small blush creeping up his neck. “Yes, Mama.” “Good boy,” I praised, my voice soft but firm. “Did you have any accidents?”

Continue reading “James Needs A Break” →

asmr

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Zoey and I recently stumbled upon the ASMR fetish community. It was somewhat accidental, after both of our TikTok FYP’s were filled with videos of whispering voices and the strangely compelling sounds of people eating. Zoey had the brilliant idea that we should use this to our advantage – you know, being PSOs and all. “Food-focused ASMR calls,” she’d declared, eyes gleaming. “We’ll be the sex queens of the crunch!”

We decided to advertise our new fetish service on X and our first video call came through Teams, after a quick DM with a guy named “CrunchKing69.” Zoey was already unwrapping a bag of spicy ramen noodles as I answered.  “H-hello,” a nervous voice replied. “Is…is this the, uh, ASMR call?” “You want it, we’ll do it,” Zoey purred, before chomping hard on the crunchy noodles. The sound filled the room, and we could see CrunchKing69 drooling on the other end while stroking his hard dick. Next, it was my turn. I grabbed a handful of crisp green grapes and popped one in my mouth before sinking my teeth into it. The satisfying crunch reverberated through the microphone. “Delicious,” I murmured, chewing slowly. “Want to hear more?”

Continue reading “Zoey and Amber: Delicious” →