Tag: phonesex

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” →

cuck

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I like a little spice, a little mystery, you know? But the guy I just moved in with seems to be settling into this domestic bliss routine, and I’m starting to get a little bored. So, I decided to inject a little excitement into our lives, a little spark. Nothing too drastic, of course. Just enough to keep him on his toes, enough to make him wonder if he’s losing his mind. And what better way to do that than with a little harmless flirting with his best friend?

It all started innocently enough. Just a lingering glance here, a suggestive text there. Nothing he could really point to, nothing that would obviously raise red flags. But it was enough to stir the pot, to plant a tiny seed of doubt in his mind. He started asking questions, subtle at first. “Did you hear from Mark today?” “Did you guys have a good time at the game?” I’d just smile and shrug, playing the doting girlfriend. Letting him stew in his own confusion was all part of the plan.

Continue reading “A Little Spice” →

butthole blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

So, you know how everyone has that one quirky thing that makes them unique? Like, maybe they organize their socks by color, or they insist on buttering their toast in a specific way? Yeah, well, my Daddy, he’s got a thing. A very specific thing. And frankly, I’ll tell you…it’s my butt. Or, more precisely, my slightly used, fresh-from-a-long-day, let’s-be-real-it’s-a-bit-“dirty” butthole. Daddy loves a dirty butthole! Especially mine.

It’s not like he’s a hygiene menace, and I’m definitely not walking around un-wiped. No, no, no. But for some reason, the moment I’ve been out all day…rushing around, hitting the gym, maybe even just living…and I finally collapse onto the sofa, he gets this twinkle in his eye. It’s like he can smell adventure. Or, you know, just me.

Continue reading “Daddy’s Got A Thing For My Butthole” →

Brandi 1-844-332-2639 ext 417

I couldn’t believe how it looked when I first saw it–the vision in my bedroom mirror. My legs were parted and I could see my female parts I had in between them; completely bare and naked for my eyes to see. The folds of my vagina the pinkness of the inside were right there for me to see. I don’t know why I started touching myself as a preteen but I did and the sensations were so intense they scared me at first. The first time I rubbed my little clit the rush the orgasm made me feel caused me to faint . I kept doing it, though. Each time, more and more. I became addicted to the sensation and the feeling. The warmth. Even the sticky wetness that came with it. The fear that my parents would walk in to see me furiously masturbating, my mouth open, and my moans becoming louder and louder, made my orgasm even better, somehow.
Continue reading “The Vision in My Bedroom Mirror” →

vampire

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

He stood in the shadows, his eyes, like deep pools, watching me. Vladimir. Not the monster from old tales, but something more compelling. He was power, yes, but he also a deep, aching loneliness that immediately drew me in. His gaze did not leave mine. There was no fear in me, only a strange, dark hunger. I reached him, standing so close I could feel the cold radiating from his skin, a faint pulse beneath it.

“You look at me,” I said, “like you wonder what I will do.” He gave a small nod. “I wonder, Stella.” His voice was a rich hum, like a cello string. I lifted my hand, not to touch his face, but his chest, finding the hard muscle beneath his velvet coat. He did not flinch. “Tonight,” I whispered, my fingers pressing lightly, “you will let me wonder.” His eyes widened. I could feel the surprise, but also a hidden interest, a spark.

Continue reading “Vladimir’s Slutty Domme” →

abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’ve just had it with Vincent’s constant mischief! When I entrusted him with the responsibility to wear big boy underpants instead of his diapers, I was confident he could handle it. Boy, was I wrong. I walked into his room and the first thing I noticed was the mess of dirty underpants on the floor! They were literally filled to the brim! He knew better than to disobey me like this. So, it’s time to teach him a hard lesson.

With a stern expression, I call out to him, “Vincent, get over here now! We need to have a talk.” He casually strolls into the room, a smirk on his face that infuriates me even further. “I thought we had an understanding, young man,” I say, in my best ABDL Mommy voice. Vincent is older than me and holds a prestigious job at a law firm, but you’d never know it when we’re together. “No more soiled underpants. Do you remember our rules about using the big boy potty?”

Continue reading “I’ve Just Had It!” →

cock witch

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

They call me ‘The Collector.’ My coven might raise a brow at my methods, but they don’t understand the relentless ache, the void only true satisfaction can fill. I am predacious by nature, preying only on those submissive men who believe their shriveled cocks are enough. They read the runes, they sign the parchments, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and fervent hope. They know the terms: if they do not measure up, they become an offering. An ornament. A keepsake.

I had another one show up tonight. A nervous young man, all trembling anticipation, stood before my altar. The scent of black candles and patchouli filled the chamber. He stripped, his body a canvas for my scrutiny. I circled him, my gaze a physical weight, assessing. My eyes, usually a calming forest green, glowed with a faint, reddish heat.

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Lead By Example

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

A good trainer is someone who understands the importance of leading by example. I wouldn’t make my sissies do anything that I myself wouldn’t or haven’t done. So when it comes to a new sissies first time sucking cock, I love to make them dress up and watch me give head.

It’s so emasculating, that first time. To be in panties and stockings in front of another man. A real man. One who is about to get pleasured in front of you while you are denied the satisfaction. It’s the first time a sissy learns that serving isn’t about them and that they should begin to welcome denial.

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slut

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The message from Puppet always started the same way: a desperate plea. He called it a “hang out,” but I knew what he really meant. “She’s in the other room,” he whispered, his voice thin and shaky as he called. “Just…just come. Please, Stella. I need you to see me.”

See him. He always wanted me to see him. It was a game, a twisted reflection of his own pathetic cravings. I felt nothing but a cold amusement. He was a puppet, all right, and I held the strings. The back door creaked as he let me in, his eyes darting to the hallway, then back to me, wide with a mixture of fear and desperate excitement.

Continue reading “Pathetic Puppet” →

Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459

I’m so fucking hyped to be back in the dorms. The perks of going to a small ass college are real. I get my own room again this year! But the real tea is, I’m stoked to relive those wild college fuckfests.

As I’m unpacking, the door swings open and my new suitemate Hannah strolls in.

“Hey, I’m Aynsley. Nice to meet you, Hannah!” I chirp, shoving my bag into the closet in our share living room, study area and kitchinette. I flash her a grin, letting her see the pearly whites of my teeth. Or maybe just the whites of my underwear, depending how close she gets.

Hannah smiles back, her eyes doing a slow scan of my room. I shrug out of my tank top, exposing a lacy red bra that barely contains my B-cups. “Make yourself at home, girl,” I say, pulling my hair into a messy bun and kicking off my sneakers.

Continue reading “Back In The Dorms” →