I went to a football game with my friends recently and I must say we had a damn good time. We tailgated, ate great food and drank lots of beer. We were playing an old rival and the weather was shitty. It rained all day and by the time the game was over everyone was soaked (some of us in more places than others). We won the game that day and afterward all of us headed back to the parking lot where one member of the tailgate had an RV set up. As mentioned before it was raining like hell so we were all very wet, but I was wetter than most. Not only was my hair wet, my coat soaked and my pants damp, my pussy was throbbing. All of the men in our group just love flirting with beautiful women and all this attention had my pussy dripping. I kept envisioning all the men with their cocks out as I took turns sucking them off one by one milking their balls dry. We have a few former football players among us so I know they have big thick cocks with creamy loads and I wanted them to cream my cunt so bad. It was all I could do to keep from rubbing my pussy in the parking lot and just as my fantasy grew in my mind a guy called out. I seemed to be in a trance and I looked up at once and walked over to him. I smiled and said hello and he offered me a beer which I accepted. “Listen Elise I brought my buddy “J”; this is his first road trip, anyway he’s a pretty cool cat, why don’t you clear the RV and take him inside and give him a lap dance?” I had never met the man but it was like a dream cum true and certainly an offer I couldn’t pass up. I walked over to where he was standing and our mutual friend introduced us. As we talked he walked away to clear the RV and I seized the opportunity. “Come on babe, let’s go in here and get out of the rain.” He looked at me abruptly as if he couldn’t believe his luck and we walked inside and closed the door. Once we dried off best we could we decided wet clothes were no fun and so he took off his coat, t-shirt and jeans in quick order and sat them by a heater to dry, as I did the same. I had on far less clothing and in 30 seconds my breasts were out, my nipples hard and my bare pussy dripping. He just stared in amazement and I saw his prick spring to life despite how cold and wet we both were. “Like what you see baby?” He nodded and I sat him back on the couch running my hands down his chest. I straddled him so my pussy grinded against his cock and my tits were buried in his face. I gave him the best lap dance he’ll ever have and his cock just got harder and harder pre-cum oozing out. Finally I back off, and slid his boxers off and he didn’t stop me. What a pretty sight! His cock was bigger and thicker than I would’ve dared imagine and I straddled him again and swayed my ass into his hips. Now my wet cunt was grinding on the head of his meat pole. He was massaging my tits cupping them in his hand and sucking my nipples hard. I reached back with my hand and guided his dick in my cunt. I was so tight and wet, I needed satisfaction now. Once inside his cock wrapped around my pussy muscles tight. It was a perfect fit. I rode his cock hard going up and down hard and fast as his balls plowed into my pussy. It only took one light touch of my clit by his thick cock and I was cumming like mad. Juices squirted all over his cock and beyond but I kept riding him I wanted him to bust a nut in my cunt. We switched positions several times only so he could penetrate my cunt again and as I rode him reverse cow-girl he spanked my ass and I grinded my pussy deep into his cock placing my feet firmly on his thighs and pressing down to ensure all of his cock was inside me. I exploded several more times and he had yet to cum which I knew meant an explosion was on the way, and sure enough as I went down on his cock harder than ever he pulsed and grabbed my ass tight digging his nails in for support. Ahh he was cumming but this was unlike any orgasm ever. He just kept breathing hard and pulsing and I felt a stream of ho cum fill my cunt. Finally the tide wave subsided and as he pulled his dripping cock out of my hole jizz leaked out I was so full. I cleaned all the cum from his cock naking sure he was nice and dry and then we got our clothes and re-joined the party.
Archive for the 'FemDom Phone Sex' Category
Page 36 of 39
I just love Halloween. Ya know why? Cuz it allows me to be the wolf in sheeps clothing. Dressing up in a silly little costume, my victims fall prey to the assumed innocence of the holiday.Everyone is pretending to be something they are not…myself included, you ignorant little shits!Start talking your naughty smack to me about how you always wanted to try something twisted, some dark perversion.How you wanted to dabble in the occult not just some white cake fantasy, but a dream truly rooted in evil. You think I am kidding. Until you hit the bottom step of my basement lair and realize what a HUGE mistake you have made. You turn, with a nervous smile, and stammer that there must be some misunderstanding. I smile in turn, but there is a wickedness in it that makes you begin to sweat…as I close the door, and lock it.
…a nervous laugh escapes your lips….and at that moment we both know that was the final escape of the evening…
Gasp!!!
hahahahahahahahaaaa!
Idiot
“Get your fucking pants down, now!”
Heart racing, you struggle with your belt. She doesn’t have a right to treat me like this, you think to yourself. You try to ignore the clammy grip of nervous sweat around your balls. I ’ve paid good money after all; she is really nothing more than a whore when you get right down to it.
The more you think about it, the braver you’re feeling. Mistress, my ass! Just who in the hell does she think she is to talk to me like that?
Ignoring your own better judgment, forgetting that your pants are now down around your knees and your dick is sticking straight up, you look up to say something, to somehow defend yourself against my scornful abuse.
“You timid, little piece-of-shit, loser. Who in the fuck do you think you are looking at?”
My voice is cruel and unforgiving as I look at you with cold, icy blue eyes—first straight into your face and then down to your naked, twitching cock. I smirk, and you know you are beaten, that I have you, that I know you for the warped and twisted degenerate that you are. Your bravado is gone, your words caught dry and useless in your throat.
Wiggling my slender hand into a latex glove, stretching and pulling the latex to fit snugly between my fingers, I continue, my voice a wicked snarl, “Don’t even think about smart-mouthing me, asshole. You’re the one who called me. You’re the one who was so damn curious about a “FemDom” handjob. You’re the butterfingers who evidently can’t jerk off your own dick. You’re the underachiever who evidently needs an instruction manual on how to fuck pussy correctly.” My voice is sharp and cold and you know now that there will be no kindness, no mercy. But your cock is throbbing as you watch me squirting lube into the palm of my gloved hand.
“Five.”
I spit the number out at you as my slithery fist grabs your prick and moves down the length of it. The shock, the suddenness of it, is so visceral that you almost shoot your load right then.
“Don’t you fucking dare, weasel boy. This dirty, nasty, useless prick of yours doesn’t cum until and when I say so. And that would be when we get to the number one. Got it?”
“Christ! Fuck! Shit! Yesssssssssss, Ma’am.”
You hear yourself, a whimpering, blubbering, mindless automaton. You are my toy: a helpless, filthy cock-toy to abuse and molest at my whim.
“Four.”
As my hand moves—once up and once down—you feel my grasp tighten ever so slightly. Oh, she is a gifted Goddess. You know that now and your urge to cum is almost overpowering. You can’t help yourself and begin to actually wail. “Please, Mistress. Please let me cum now. Oh, please.” You hear yourself and are ashamed, but cannot stop. “Please, Mistress. Let me cum now. Let me be your dirty filthy boy and cum now. Please, please, please, please.”
Abruptly I loosen my grip and—before you even understand what is happening—smacks your cock. Once. Twice. Three times. There is nothing, nobody but you and me, my hand and your dick. You actually swoon and feel yourself buckling when I grab your arm and pull you you back up.
“No you don’t,” I whisper sweetly, lips grazing your ear. The unexpected change in my manner has you spinning and powerless, totally focused on me. You struggle to speak, to tell me you adore me, to tell me you belong to me while your abandoned cock twitches and drips, pointing directly at me: your Mistress, your Queen.
“You came here for a FemDom handjob. Don’t you remember? Or did your brain melt and drain into your balls and leave you stupid? If you spew already, you’ll miss the show.”
I giggle as I move away from you to sit in a nearby chair. You are tempted to beg me to come back, to jerk your cock again, that you will be a “good boy.” But seeing the look on my face you think better of it and are silent.
“That’s more like it,” I say, pointing between your legs. You are helpless, exposed. “That dick is now my property, my personal gear shift. Got it?”
Afraid to look at me, you nod, staring straight ahead. “Yes Mistress.”
“I’m going to start again in a moment, but this time I’m going to start counting back from ten.” Unable to stop yourself, you moan in frustration.
“Make that fifteen.” You bite your tongue.
“You’re learning,” I almost—but not quite—purr as I stand up again and walk toward you.
“Now stand there with your pants down around your ankles like the gimp-loser dick-wad you are while I lube this glove up one more time.”
“And then we’ll try again.”
I want you.
I want you to be mine.
I want you to *show* that you are mine, submissive to my every desire. Mine to do with as I please, to say yes as a good little boy should say to his Mistress, and never say no. To agree to whatever I want, whatever experiment, whatever position, whatever whim I might have in mind for you. I want you to agree that *my* pleasure is paramount, the end-all and be-all of your existence, and far more important than your own, to give me what I’m not getting elsewhere in the tedium of my life.
I want you to kneel naked before me, heels under your buttocks in that way you know I like, the way that spreads your ass cheeks just that little extra bit, making you hyperaware that your asshole is mine, too. I want your knees splayed wide, too, displaying the penis and balls dangling at the apex of your thighs–and that penis had better be hard; it’s disrespectful to be limp in front of your goddess.
I might want your hands clasped behind your back at the base of your spine, or I might want their fingers laced together behind your head, but either way, they will be out of my way, as you keep your head down and your shoulders back, displaying your chest and the nipples standing sentry there. You will not look up at my face, my breasts, or even my cunt unless I give you permission to; you are not worthy to gaze upon them without my will. I am a goddess, and you will show your devotion to me in the manner that pleases me best.
I want every inch of your body cleaned when you present yourself like a gift to me, scrubbed from head to foot, including behind the ears and between the toes. If I want you to wear cologne or perfume, I will let you know, but I do *not* want to smell your sweat until you’re bound and chained, and writhing in the ecstasy of the pain I can and will bestow upon you. I do not want to smell that stale cornchip odor on your feet, and I don’t want to smell stale urine on your cock—no, on *my* cock. If you are kneeling before me, submissive, then everything that was yours is now mine, and your penis is the most personal gift you can make. It will be mine.
Your armpits are to be shaved. This goes right along with the command that you must smell sweet and clean. So must your testicles. If I want hair on your ballsack, I will let you know, and give it time to grow. For right now, it must be as clean-shaven as your jawline. Possessing a beard and moustache are also out—they are signs of rebellion, of wanting to reassert your masculinity, and if you rebel, I will use my riding crop on the tender inner skin of your thighs.
I want you to worship me.
Are you worthy?
I was a good student in school, always had a smile on my face, always the one that you thought would be a virgin till the day she got married. You know the good girl that you always wanted to nail. Little did you know….a good girl image is almost always a cover up for the nasty lil whores they really are.
I used it to my advantage. You should have seen the look on the preacher’s son’s face when I got down on my knees and gave him something to repent about. You should have witnessed me give the police officer a new way to use his baton and handcuffs. You should have saw me handle the group of men at the club in Mexico….everything wild happens in Mexico…including me. I got me some original Tijawana tales….but I wasn’t a spectator, not at all, I was a participant.
I know just about everything about BDSM, TP, CBT, all sorts of roleplays (the kinkier the better), forced fem, just about any fetish. I know about them because I have done all of them first hand. I’m not one of these mindless drones that has read books, online sites, or regurgitated other operators’ stories. I’ve gone out there and done my “research” on my own. My stories are original and my imaginations is fresh. I can give you what you want, and this “good” girl never says no to a kind request.
My imagination is the most erotic part of my body. I do have a nice rack if I do say so myself, and my voice is often said to be angelic, but it’s my imagination that will make you fall in love with me. It’s my imagination that will make you crave me. And fair warning, it’s my imagination that will ruin you for all other women.
I dress you up super pretty because my friends will be over today and you will be the party favor. First of all we will give you a latex pussy so you can totally be the little girl I want you to be. Of course you will need some tits too.
Then I shall dress you up in a corset, thigh highs, and panties. Of course you will wear the 5 inch stilettos.
I shall finish up the package deal by making you put on that hot blonde wig and some hot pink lipstick and other makeup to make you super pretty and girlie for me.
So while you are looking super pretty for me, your job is to cater to me and my girlfriends wants and needs. You will serve us drinks while collared and leashed. Whatever they want, you shall provide. I will also have a few male strippers showing up to entertain us for the party and you are also to cater to their needs. Not sure exactly what all we might require of you, but one thing is for sure….obedience and total submission is mandatory.
If you are looking for a mean and violent Mistress then I am probably not the Mistress for you. If you are looking for a sensual Mistress that believes domination is simply the art of getting someone else to push their own limits, then give me a call.
I enjoy everything from humiliating you, feminization, spanking, strapon play, pantie girls, forced bisexuality, and just using you for my own satisfaction and entertainment. I want to guide you to be the best dirty slut that you can possibly be, for me. I love a challenge, now question is are you for it? Are you willing to give and do anything that your Mistress asks? If the answer is yes, then dial my number and set your submissive soul free.
I don’t usually drink hardcore liquor but I keep a bottle or two in the house just in case I need or want it. It makes for a great drink if I am super stressed and it’s fun to bring in to the bedroom too. Let’s crack open the bottle and you can take body shots. Lick the liquor off my breasts, get a drunk special. Not only will the alcohol give you a buzz but my tits are sure to as well. You like my legs and feet? Pour some liquor there and lick off every drop as I finger my wet cunt. You can lick every drop off my sexy feet and then once you get a buzz of that, eat my pussy and experience the ultimate high. Call now and lets have some liquor (lick her) fun.
I have a beautiful black 11 inch strap on cock and I just adore bending your inferior white ass over and fuckin you hard. My first victim was a white panty waste fuck boy, he was a cock hungry sissy and ass fuck slave, and I fucked him till he passed out. He absolutely LOVED IT! He has a tiny cock of course and he became addicted to that HUGE BLACK COCK just like I am…HAHAHA! I’ve always been a freak, kinky as hell, but now I wanna take it to another level. I want am your Goddess for life! I’m the when you wake up thinking about and the one you dream about when you rest your head on your pillow at night. Don’t resist me, I’m everything that excites you and you will be my bitch!
Get ready to get that ass worked over like never before pussy boys! There’s NOTHING like the POWER of a GODDESS PUSSY, so it’s time to get whipped!
GODDESS JEZZABELLE
Open up, sweetie, it’s morning.
Her whisper wakes me, and I feel the pressure of what she has chosen for me today. A large phallus against my anus, facing inwards from the leather briefs I will wear all day.
Please, does it have to be so big today? I’m sore.
Please don’t question me, dear. You will need to be instantly obedient today, it’s very important to me. And you know how you can forget. This will keep your mind focused. Especially since I have not used anything to make it easier for you.
A firm, remorseless thrust, and the phallus enters me. No lubricant. Serious pain. Silence from my lips. I know better. There is no talking. No complaining. No whining. Silence. She knows exactly how hard it is for me. And she knows that sometimes I will fail.
Failure means welts and bruises at our house. A deliberate, thorough session with the cane and paddle. Crying will be required, but will not be sufficient to prove remorse. She will expect creative, satisfying displays of brokenness to assure her that I am utterly defeated, and that the pain in my heart will go on for some time.
She removes yesterday’s panties from my face, where they have been firmly in place since the previous evening’s lights out. The vaginal and anal areas covering my nose and mouth, the elastic holding the panties in place on my head. I am bereft when they are taken away. But I hope that later I might be allowed more than a cotton reflection of her.
Slavery suits me, I feel it deeply. I crave her authority, and her physical dominance of me. She outranks me.
To be close to her breasts, to meld my open mouth with her glorious vagina, to offer myself to the primal humiliating power of her bottom. My suffering, her pleasure. It is the central concern of our household. When she hits me, when she methodically sets about to make me sad, taking me further down than I knew I could survive. These are times I deeply and darkly crave. Every time she hurts me, I wish only for her to acquire more power over me through her expression of it.
Now it is time for her morning toilet, and time for me to serve her intimately. She sits down on the toilet, and I take my place kneeling in front of her, hands in my lap, eyes down. When she has finished urinating, she edges forward, knees apart, and takes me by the hair, firmly bringing my face to where it is required. I carefully and devotedly clean her vagina, lapping thoroughly to be sure that all traces are removed.
I make way for her as she stands up, turns, and puts her hands on the back of the toilet, feet apart, bent over. I place my tongue against her anus, and freshen her after a night of sleep. She is quite clean, for I serve her well, but the musk of her anus still has its powerful humiliating effect on me, and I am flushed, aroused, reminded of my status.
As she brushes her teeth, I kneel quietly, wondering what she has planned for me today, hoping and fearing that it will be difficult for me.
It turns out that today is shopping day. I am handed a list. While she is at work, I am to obtain everything on the list, and I am instructed to make the experience as devastating as possible for myself. One item on the list I know will be unobtainable: “Condoms — extra small.” But I know that I will go to the pharmacy, seek out the female attendant behind the counter, and ask in a clear voice for extra small condoms, making sure to experience the amusement and pity on her face, not avoiding the pain it causes me.
She also requires new panties. I am to spend a minimum of one hour selecting them, asking questions of the female staff at the boutique store at the mall: about materials, comfort, laundry care. I am to make it clear that I am responsible for the care of my wife’s underthings, and let my shame and awkwardness show to the young, pretty women who will doubtless answer my questions with increasing impatience and revulsion.
I must also go to the small specialty grocery nearby, and ask for difficult to obtain items for my wife’s dinner, explaining how angry she will be if I fail to deliver. My fear and panic at the impossibility of fulfilling her wishes must be conveyed.
Finally, I must buy a new set of jewelry for my penis and nipples. All the jewelry I wear on my most sensitive parts must be attractive but also functional — it must include a ring of some kind with which to attach me to the various places she may wish to keep me at home. The rings also serve as a means of amusement or punishment. When a three stranded chain is attached to all three rings, and then to a leash, she is able to control me very easily, causing serious pain and panic with a sharp tug. Or I may simply be attached to hardware in the wall for a beating.
The involuntary spasms I experience when the cane lands lead to a second, almost as intense pain as I pull away from the wall. I try so very hard to keep still when I am punished, which I know pleases her. It is analogous to her cherished game of making me keep silence while she hurts me — the common thread is that I am not allowed any means of releasing my suffering, but must keep it all in, letting it do its pervasive damage to my heart and mind.
I am hers. Today will be a hard day, and I am grateful for it.
