Tag: phonesex

Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

I am still in shock over Mr. Martin’s confession. I’d already decided that I wasn’t going to tell him that Mrs. Martin had come into work. She’d found credit card receipts and suspected that he was having an affair. There was no way I could tell her that it was me, or that he also messed around with my uncle. I didn’t want to stop seeing Mr. Martin. I’d even been contemplating quitting my job because of this. I didn’t want her to catch us. And I couldn’t tell him not to come in anymore. But that’s when he dropped a bombshell on me. He told me that ever since he was with my uncle, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. The cravings for more had become so intense that he had even been thinking about going somewhere he could get more cock. He told me that he didn’t even think that sex with a female could ever satisfy him again. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. But right as I thought I had heard it all, I found out that I hadn’t at all.

Continue reading “Mr. Martin’s Confession” →

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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Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

“I read your profile.” He whispered. “And that’s exactly what I want. Please, make me your sissy faggot.” I giggled and let my hand rub up my inner thigh. Nothing pleases me more than when little sissy dolls crawl to me willingly.

“How good of a faggot will you be?” I asked my new toy, and he moaned.

“So good for you, Goddess.” They always say that, but when I asked how he was dressed for me, I was pleasantly surprised to find this little faggot more than prepared to perform.

Continue reading “Please, Make Me Your Sissy Faggot” →

Alexus 1844-332-2639 x 349

Your girl wants a threesome, and that sounded so sexy to you until you realized she meant MFM, and you would never let your dick be next to another dude’s junk.

She said she was too jealous to let it be FMF, so it felt like you were at an impasse. Until she softly suggested you find a unicorn. You know, a transgirl with a beautiful cock but also a great set of tits, so you didn’t feel like you were fucking her with a dude. First, you said no. Dick was dick, and it didn’t matter what else was attached, but then she started showing you some sexy trans porn, and you quickly found yourself getting rock hard at the idea.

Continue reading “So You Wanna Find a Unicorn?” →

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

I had been so busy that I couldn’t keep up with the housework. So I decided to put an ad out for a maid. I never anticipated ending up with a sissy maid. But he was the most eager and excited of everyone I interviewed. I didn’t know at the time that he was a sissy. But from the moment he started, he was buzzing around, busy at work. It was as if the deep cleaning and organizing revved him up and gave him more energy. I couldn’t believe it. It felt as if it were too good to be true. But he continued day after day, and my life had become so much easier. Nothing had ever been so organized. Especially my lingerie drawers!

One day I was in my office working away on blogs when I decided to run to the kitchen for a snack. Some movement on the security monitor caught my eye and when I took a closer look, I couldn’t believe what I saw. He was in my daughter’s room trying on her panties. I went running in there to ask him what on earth he was doing. He looked so embarrassed and humiliated.

Continue reading “My Sissy Maid” →

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” →