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.

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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.

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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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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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