Dear Angela

I awake caged and strapped to the bed where you left me, the silken ties still holding my wrists above my head and pulling my ankles toward the bedposts.  My cock is still swollen, locked in the metal cage.  The clothespins are laying against me, but no longer pinching my nipples.

I see your pajamas on floor outside the bathroom, hear the sounds of your bathing.

And I remember last night …

You had guided me gently into the bed. Laughing and giggling when you locked my cock up, telling me it was yours, that always and forever it would be yours.  You kissed my lips, using your fingers on my suddenly sensitive chest.  Because I couldn’t help but reciprocate, touching every part of your lithe body my fingertips could reach, you decided to tie me up.  I begged; I promised to be good, to settle down, to be obedient.  But, as always, my desire gave you the upper hand and I submitted.

Once I was bound, your teasing became more insistent.  Each pass of your lips or hands was a little more firm, a little more demanding, a little more exciting, soon with brief hints of discomfort and shadows of pain.  I was writhing.  My hips were bucking, arms and legs pulling, and ‘your’ cock was throbbing in your cage.

You persisted. Fingernails pushing through the bars, stroking, stabbing, and scratching at the shaft. Lips sucking on nipples. Legs stroking mine. Your erect nipples pushing against my body and then my lips. Finally your hands slapping my face, your thighs squeezing my chest, your mouth hovering over mine.

At last you slid your pussy slowly up my torso. I could feel the cool trail as your hot juices were exposed to the air and dried on my chest. Agonizingly frustrating patience as you approached my mouth. Suddenly my mouth, covered with your saliva had a purpose. You held my skull in your hands, you squeezed my ears with your thighs and drove your wet slit against my wet and hungry mouth.

On and on and on you teased, you stroked, you tortured.

And then you left me.  Fevered and left wanting, somehow I’d fallen asleep.

And now …

It is morning and you are coming out of the bathroom. The scents of my lust are replaced with those of soaps and powders. Your naked body elicits an involuntary groan from my mouth as your cock began to throb in its cage as if begging for attention. You gently unlocked the cage and carefully take my trembling and twitching shaft into your mouth. I feel your lips engulf me, your tongue wetly stroking me. Your delicate fingers probed at my ball-sack. I  feel a night worth of passion begin to flow.  And so can you.

With a “pop” you break contact.

Even as  my sob of frustration fills the room, you reach for my head and look directly into my eyes.  “Not yet,” you say.

You reached over me, keeping your breasts out of tongues hungry reach and untied one wrist.

“Go to work.  See you tonight.” And you walked out.

________________________________________________________

Love
Puppet Prince

I call you on NiteFlirt and you immediately say, “I was expecting your call, Gary.  I see you tributed me 25 dollars this morning. I am assuming you lost the bet. You broke down, cut the lock off, and fucked the wife last night, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I was so horny,” I reply.

“You know what that means, Gary. Don’t you?” .

“Yes, Ma’am.  I hand over ownership of my wife’s pussy to you.”

“Not so fast,” you say and I immediately notice that your voice is firm.  It is not the bouncy, free conversation we have had in the past.

“I told you before how this was going to happen.  Get down on your knees.  Right now.  On you knees.  We have business to attend to.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Try Again.”

“Yes, Ms. Angela?”

“That’s better.  Now I want to hear you say it; repeat after me:  Dear Ms. Angela, I freely hand over ownership of my wife’s pussy to you.”

“Dear Ms. Angela, I freely hand over ownership of my wife’s pussy to you.”

“Don’t you fucking mumble like a little wimp.  Am I supposed to turn up the volume on this phone just to hear your whimpering? Now say it again. Say it like you mean it.”

“Dear Ms. Angela, I freely hand over ownership of my wife’s pussy to you.”

*Bang*

*Bang*

*Bang*

It takes me a moment to realize you are pounding your phone on your desk.  “Again, louder.  Scream it, you Little-Dick Cuck.  I want your goddam neighbors to hear it.”  And so I do what I am commanded to do.

“DEAR MS. ANGELA, I FREELY HAND OVER OWNERSHIP OF MY WIFE’S PUSSY TO YOU.”

“Mmmm.  Music to my ears.  Of course, technically-speaking, you can’t hand over ownership. You don’t own your wife’s pussy.  She does. But what you did just do was hand over YOUR CLAIM to it.  From now on I own it as far as you are concerned.  That is MY pussy!  Do you have a calendar there?”

“Yes, Ms Angela.”

“Great, Circle today’s date.  That is to remind you today was the day you lost any claim on your wife’s pussy and gave it to me.”

“Yes, Ms. Angela.,”

“You know, Gary, usually the Cuckold  hands over their claim on their wife’s pussy to the wife’s new lover.  You just handed it to a NiteFlirt FemDomme.”  I hear you laughing and I close my eyes, hanging my head in shame.

“Write this down, Cuck-Sucker.  ‘Today I handed any claim of my wife’s pussy to Ms. Angela.  From now on, I can not fuck my wife without Ms Angela’s permission.  Miss Angela owns my wife’s pussy.’  Got it?”

“Yes, Ms. Angela.”

“That is the feedback you will leave me today.  You are going to tell the whole world, or at least everyone that reads my feedback, what you just did today.  Everyone will be laughing at you, Gary, my little Cuck-Sucker. Can’t even fuck his own wife without my permission.  Who owns that pussy?”

“Ms. Angela owns my wife’s pussy,” I reply.

You laugh hysterically and go on, “Now, because I am a benevolent owner of your wife’s pussy, during the next 30 days I will allow you to fuck MY pussy once. You will pay me 25 dollars — 25 Fuck Bucks — for the privilege of fucking your own wife.  It is the going rate for the typical street whore?  You will pay the price of a street whore and turn your loving wife into my prostitute for the evening.  Now tell me again, who owns that pussy?”

Ms. Angela owns my wife’s pussy,” I answer robustly, because this time I know better.

“That’s right, Cuck-Sucker.  I own it.  You even brush up against it, you hug her and absentmindedly rub her pussy — I mean, MY pussy — it will cost you 5 bucks.  No touching MY pussy without paying me.  You are not even allowed to look at it.  If you even catch a glimpse of that wifey snatch by accident?  That’s 5 dollars.  No peeking at MY pussy, Gary.  That’s right, 5 Fuck Bucks for even a teeny-weeny peek. Now again, who owns that pussy?”

“Ms Angela owns my wife’s pussy,” I answer, again robustly.

“Now I would certainly never deny a woman sex if she wants it.  After all, I own that pussy now and I want it to be a happy pussy.   So if your wife wants sex — not you, but her, because I don’t  care what you want — you will give it to her.  Of course you will.  But guess what, Cuck-Sucker?  It will cost you 50 dollars–that’s  50 Fuck Bucks for me.  And you WILL NOT deny your wife just because you want to save a few bucks.  Do you understand? You will fuck her, but you will pay me 50 bucks.

And, of course, you will also lick it clean.   Because, Gary, you never — never, ever, ever — leave MY pussy messy.  Are we on the same page? Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Yes, Ms. Angela.”

“Now if you get horny and want to fuck MY pussy a second time this the month — or any other month, for that matter — you are perfectly free to do that.  Pretty nice of me, eh?  But there’s a catch, Gary.  Do you want to know what that catch is?  Do you?

“Yes, Ms. Angela.”

“Well,  ‘lil Cuck-Sucker the catch is that it will cost you $100.  Yep! $100 Fuck Bucks.  And why do you think that is? Come on, you’re smart enough.  You should be figuring it out by now. Tell me. Come on.”

“Ms. Angela owns my wife’s pussy.”

“Mmm.  Music to my ears.  Now don’t get too worried, Gary.  If I am ever getting strapped for cash, I might run a sale. You know … a blue light special.  For example, a 12 hour special something like:  I am selling your wife’s pussy for $59.95. Come and get it.”  You break out laughing.

“I might run special sales throughout the month.  Then again, there will be days when I absolutely, I forbid you to fuck MY pussy. Why? Just because I fucking can. That’s why. Now sing to me, Gary, sing to me my favorite song.”

“Ms Angela owns my wife’s pussy,” I iterate, feeling less and less like the man my wife believes me to be, and more and more like your besmirched little choir boy.  I’m even still on my knees, as you’d ordered me at the beginning of this call.

“Maybe I’ll even run little mini-specials now and again.  Maybe 10 strokes for 20 bucks.  Now, you have to admit that’s pretty damn generous of me. You would be allowed to slide your little dick in and out 10 times.  That is all. You cum within 10 strokes, you win.  You don’t cum, too bad and you pull out.  10 strokes is all you paid me for, 10 strokes is all you get.

But here’s the fun part.  If it just feels so damn good that you want to keep it in for 11 or 12 strokes and let that little guy squirt?  Cum in MY pussy?  Well then, you just did your second fucking for the month, didn’t you?  And you know what that means, don’t you?  More Fuck Bucks for me.  $100 more Fuck Bucks to be exact.

Devious of me, but so delicious, don’t you think?”

I start to answer you with your assigned mantra, because I know who is in charge here.  I know I’m whipped.  But as soon as “yes” is out of my mouth you tell me to shut up.  You continue talking.  I can hear the eagerness, the glee in your voice.

“Oh yeah, I expect to make a quite a few extra bucks selling that wifey pussy back to you.  She’ll be a great little money maker for me. Keep an eye out for my email specials.  I’ll send them every so often.

“Now are you locked up, Cuck-Sucker? Hmmm?

‘No, Ms Angela,” I answer.

“Lock that fucking little dick up.  For Chrizts sake, I have a pussy to protect now.  I don’t want your little dick running free anywhere near MY pussy.  Basically, Gary, you don’t get to fuck anymore, unless you’re paying me for the privilege. gary without me. Send me proof that your little dick is locked up.

Now one more time, who owns that pussy?”

“Ms Angela owns my wife’s pussy.”

You laugh,  or perhaps it’s a snicker.

“And don’t you ever forget it.”

*click*

….

You are gone. I get up from my knees and go to my computer.  I watch my fingers shake as I type.

Today I handed any claim of my wife’s pussy to Ms Angela.  From now on, I cannot fuck my wife without Ms Angela’s permission.  Miss Angela now owns my wife’s pussy.

I hit the enter button.

——————————————-

This was a true collaboration between me and a special caller.  He wrote it up with his horny little fingers,  and I shined it up a bit.  We hope you like it.

——————————————-

Photo Credit:  The Lingham Phallic Penis Amulet for Money & Love which is found here.  Who’s going to buy me one?  ‘Cuz isn’t it the cutest thing ever?

xo, Angela

Even a FemDomme needs to hear your appreciation now and again. And you do keep it coming, sweet boys. I read through my emails, your tweets, my Phone Sex reviews at NiteFlirt and I am forever grateful. As I often say to new callers, I may not get everything right the first time, but absolutely nobody can say I’m not putting everything I have into it.

I walk the way I talk, and I give what I expect to get … in every aspect of my life, including the Erotic Art of Phone Conversation.

You get it, you appreciate it, you are true-blue, you are my Manbeams, and here’s what you are saying about our long-distance Kink-A-Thons:

• What more can one say about Angela. She is the epitome of kink as she draws out your confessions, and then weaves them into a fantasy that has you begging for more than you ever thought you would as she joyfully pushes you farther into her realm.
• Thank You, my beautiful Mistress – I truly adore You!
• I am but a quarter note in the opus of Angela’s creative genius. She lets me play my flute for such a short time, but it is a privilege to play for such a magnificent cum-poser.
• Great Lady to talk to. Great Lady to play with. I will call again and again.
• She was okay I guess. 😉
• Well, Angela certainly put a collar on this caller. She rules with silk and daggers, finesse and a sledge hammer, nuance and frontal assault. I remain mad about her.
• Loveable, sensual, bright, witty, sexy … oh so beautiful inside and out … I want her so!
• We all have a fetish we enjoy. Mine, however, happens to be whatever Angela suggests. She could make ice cream kinky!
• A+
• There is no finer experience available on the phone. Miss Angela is caring, desirable, enticing, kinky, and thoughtful.
• Angela is so amazing!! She is the best on Niteflirt! She gets better every time. She makes me so crazy and knows just what buttons to push to make me cum so hard!!
• Altered States has nothing on the transformation Angela induces in me. Mistress stirs my primordial soup like no other.
• Wonderful experience. A well crafted combination of erotic fantasy and kinky instructions. Mistress Angela will call the tune and play you like a fiddle- hitting all the right notes even if you can’t read the music.
• vavavavoom – explosive!
• Best mistress ever.
• She said “ruin it then lick it.” That is so hot, and while it was hot,  She made it fun. This Lady is worth calling.
• I need to phone back and listen to more of what Angela has to say.. Angela has my attention. I want to continue to explore and dare myself. Just to the ultimate edge of complete and total nudity with only a sliver of thread covering my sex.
• Goddess Angela was amazing. She had me fully under her control.
• You want the best vacation in your life? Call Angela. She will take you places that will put to shame any trip you could ever take. The only problem is transitioning back to your particular reality.
• Ecstasy and Agony are ever twins of Miss Angela’s beautifully depraved imagination.
• Ms. St. Lawrence is truly a NiteFlirt treasure. She’s everything a woman in this business should be: ethical to the bone, sex-kitten to the max, deviant beyond imagination and HOT! HOT! HOT!
• The diva of debauchery. I love my conversations with Angela.
• So over the top outstanding – transformative, way fun and dead sexy – wow!

You really are my Manbeams … shining right back at me the absolute joy I get making your basest and kinkiest desires come to life.   I am forever grateful for your trust and belief in me.  I might kick your ass or take you to the very depths of depravity or bitch slap you into submission, but I always and forever love you to pieces.

Or perhaps INTO pieces.  *wink*

xo, Angela

★★★★★

She gets it …

… every time she gets it and she nails it on the head while simultaneously probing to expand boundaries.

Wow.

Which is how it should be. Don’t you think?

xo, Angela

P.S.   Though he’s permanently off pussy and I’ve for all intents and purposes ruined his cock, it is a turn-on that he can spell simultaneously and use proper grammar.  Such a clever Cucky.