Tag: phone sex

spanking

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

It wasn’t that short, I told myself. Just daring. Besides, it’s my favorite skirt. There’s no harm in wearing it! Boy, was I ever wrong. Daddy found me by the front door just as I was about to leave for school. “Amber. Dorothy. Tomsin.” He reserved stating my full name for only two reasons, one of which was when he wanted the room to chill.

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” he said, as he gestured to the skirt. “You think dressing like a whore is armor? It makes you a target.” I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. “It’s my body, Daddy!” He sighed. “That’s what they all say.” I looked directly at him, feeling the anger building inside of me. “Haven’t I outgrown your hemline lectures by now?” Daddy’s eyes, tired and grim, locked with mine. “Get upstairs.”

Continue reading “my favorite skirt” →

cuck therapist

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

When David, a well-groomed man in his early forties, walked into my office and confessed his desire to “escape the weight of his marriage,” I sensed an opportunity. “Let me show you what it means to truly let go,” I said, watching his eyes flicker with something between curiosity and surrender. At first, I told myself this was just another session, a therapeutic exercise in roleplay to ease his marital tension.

Shortly thereafter, David’s sessions became a ritual. I’d begun weaving subtle suggestions into our conversations, phrases meant to blur the lines between his identity as a husband and the version of himself that could dissolve into pleasure at my command. “Under my guidance, you’ll forget the expectations of others,” I murmured one day as his eyelids grew heavy. “You’ll remember only what it feels like to serve me.” His breathing hitched and, for a moment, I wondered if I’d gone too far…but then he smiled and whispered, “Yes, Cory. Only you.”

Continue reading “Cucking David’s Wife” →

domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

My phone buzzes. Another message from a man who thinks he’s ready. “I want to serve,” he writes in clumsy English. “I can take anything.” This made me smile. They always say that.

I reply in French first. “Tu penses que t’es fort? Viens me prouver.” Then, in English. “Be here at 9. Naked. On your knees.” I wear their desperation like perfume. Tonight’s guest arrives and I circle him, watching how he reacts. He licks his lips when I step close. Wrong move.

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Speculum

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

It’s hump day, and there is no one around the house to hump me. I’ve decided, today is the day I’m going to stretch out my pussy with the reusable, metal speculum I bought online. Getting naked and lounging on my couch, I was waiting for a fun phone sex boy to call me up.

It was good that he didn’t know what he wanted to talk about because I wanted him to hear me ruin my pussy. I described the duckbill like a gynecologist’s tool, and he sounded like he was getting hot over the idea of finding out just how wide my pussy would open.

Continue reading “Speculum Stretching” →

pussy eating

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

“You’re not like the others, Amber.” He’s a lot older than I am and I probably should’ve run for the hills as soon as he said that, but I didn’t. I couldn’t help but desire him, even though I knew he was trouble. His hands were cold when he cupped my face, as his thumbs brushed my lips. I tilted my head back, as he murmured, “Spread them.” It wasn’t a request.

My fingers trembled, parting my pussy lips to reveal the ripe, aching fruit between us. The next thing I knew, he was devouring the flesh. MY flesh. I moaned, thinking it was passion, until his teeth grazed my clit and sent a joly of electricity through my entire body.

Continue reading ““You’re not like the others, Amber.”” →

abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’d been called to the “fun house” on the edge of town to investigate what sounded like a paranormal situation. When I pushed open the creaky door, the smell hit me hard. It was a musty mix of wet carpet and baby powder. Weird combo, I thought. My eyes adjusted to the dim glow of a blinking Game Boy Color screen and there it was. A creature slinking in the corner. Its face was a smudge of a shadow and it had many (too many) teeth.

“Well,” I said, aloud, patting my hip where my “Mama Kit” (a custom duffel bag with a sippy cup, pacifier, and a vintage rattle) hung, “you’re not what I expected.” It hissed. I giggled. “Oh, you’re spicy. I like that.” Drawing on years of experience comforting mommy’s boys and toys, I waddled closer, patting the floor. “Here, let’s sit down like grown-ups.” I sat, crossing my legs. The creature paused, with its too-long fingers twitching. Casually, I pulled out the rattle and clicked it. “I bring treats,” I added, unzipping the duffel to reveal a stash of glow-in-the-dark lollipops (for emergencies).

Continue reading “the fun house on the edge of town” →

faggot domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

A message pings on my screen. “Hi, I’m Tim. I’ve never done this before. Can I pay you to tell me what to do?” His profile was bland. Just a blurry photo of a shaggy-haired man in a wrinkled shirt. Beta. The kind who needs a leash. Perfect. Findom is a game of hunger and humiliation, and I play it well.

He arrives at my door, nervous, clutching a duffel bag like a shield. “I-I just wanted to help,” he stammers, handing me a thick envelope of cash. I smirk. “Strip,” I order. He hesitates for a moment, then peels off his clothes layer by layer, revealing a wiry frame.

Continue reading “I’ve never done this before. Can I pay you to tell me what to do?” →

sluts

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The rain hammered against the pavement as Zoey and I huddled under the awning of the laundromat, with our work panties clinging to our skin. Twelve-hour shifts at the brothel left us reeking of sweat and cum, and our pussies were chafed raw. “Remember the ad we posted?” Zoey whispered, her breath fogging in the cold. “Seeking detail-oriented individual for personal cleaning duties. Must be hygienic, patient, and open-minded.”

Hugo answered within the hour. He arrived in a hoodie two sizes too big with eyes the color of storm clouds. “You wanted someone for cleaning services?” he’d asked, staring at our soiled panties. We’d nodded, leading him to the laundromat’s back room. It was nohing more than a narrow closet with a rusted sink. “It’s a ritual,” I said, stripping out of my panties. “We need someone clean to do it.” His hesitation lasted three seconds. “I’m good with details,” he mumbled.

Continue reading “Dirty Panties, Dirty Pussies” →

findomme

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

My journey into findom began innocently enough. I was posting cryptic Instagram captions about “liquid assets” and “monetizing my worth,” when a guy slid into my DMs asking if I’d ever considered “roleplaying a trust fund beneficiary.” Little did he know, I was all about roleplaying!

The first time I hosted a findom session for a man I’ll call Kevin (not his real name, though honestly, I’m sure someone named Kevin will read this and think it is him), I wore a tie I’d bought for $12 at a thrift store and demanded he pay “pay the lady” up front, as is customary in this profession.

Continue reading “My Findom Journey” →

nye domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I smooth my black corset, the red lace trim catching the dim light. Tonight is New Year’s Eve, but there’ll be no drinks for me. The only thing on my menu tonight is the sound of surrender. Liam arrives at 11:59pm. His breath fogs in the cold air as he knocks. I let him in. He wears the plain gray shirt I told him to wear. No collar yet. Not tonight. Not until the clock breaks.

My room is a cathedral of shadows. Candles flicker on the floor. Their wax pools underneath them like dark hearts. The air smells of fear. Liam’s favorite song plays on loop. Clair de Lune, the keys falling like rain. I watch him shiver. He knows what to do. “You know the rules,” I say. My voice is soft. He nods as I tie his hands behind his back with the red ribbon I saved for this night. My favorite color. It matches the little scars on his wrists from last year’s celebration.

Continue reading “New Year’s Eve” →