Tag: phone sex

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” →

Edging

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

“Good morning, Mommy” Davey chirps. His voice sounds high and eager. His cheeks are rosy, his dark hair is messily tousled, and I know exactly what’s coming. I crouch in front of him, resting my hands on his knees. “Good morning, my sweet boy,” I say, smiling. Immediately, his pupils dilate. He loves this. “Good boy…good boy…good boy.” It’s the phrase that sends him spiraling.

“Oh, Mother,” he whispers, tugging at his onesie. “Please?” I feign innocence. “Please what, darling? You know I can’t help you unless you’re a very good boy and say the magic words that every Mommy wants to hear.” His giggle is breathless and I see the telltale tent forming in his onesie. He edges like a pro, so I already know this is gonna be good. “I…um, Mommy, I want to make you proud,” he says, as his voice trembles. “Can we do family fun together, Mother?”

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abdl blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It all started with a hopeful “I want to help, Mommy!” This year, Timmy begged to bake Christmas cookies, promising to be “extra good” and “follow the recipe like a big boy.” I caved, of course, because what ABDL mother says no to his twinkling eyes right before Christmas?

Big mistake. Within ten minutes, flour was airborne like a blizzard, egg whites were splattered on the ceiling fan (yes, really), and the kitchen resembled a combat zone where sugar and chaos had declared a truce. I stood there, flour-dusted and blinking, as Timmy beamed. He was soooo proud of himself.

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domme

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.

Continue reading “Backs straight, eyes down.” →

domme

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I have a particular method of enforcement that is both swift and merciless. Whenever one of my subs disobeys or falls short of my expectations, they are subject to a punishment that is as humiliating as it is physically uncomfortable. With a mere glance, I can command them to slap, flick, or otherwise torment their own cock while I cackle with glee. The act is a clear and honest reminder that their body is mine to control.

The first time it happens, they are often taken aback by how much it stings. But as the instances pile up, and the slaps and flicks become more frequent, they begin to break. Their ego falters, their pride cracks, and their tears start to flow like a waterfall. And all they can say in the moment is “ow” or (my favorite) “yes, Mistress Amber.” Like the pathetic bitches they are.

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crinkly diaper

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.”

Continue reading “Diaper Magician” →

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.

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