My very good boy, SlutR, delivered the goods when I told him to FESS UP, so that the girls and I could enjoy a bit of comic relief during our Monday Night Girls Only party:

This past week I was the recipient of an assignment from Your good friend Ms. Angela.  This was the assignment:

Answer this question: Why I must eat my own cum for Ms. Angela.

So why indeed?  Let me count the ways.  The first is rather basic – what Ms. Angela says, goes.  She rules the roost – she controls the cock.  But to leave it with a rationale that seems rather reductive.

If I do a more thorough bit of self-analysis, I think there’s a part of me that is grateful for the time she has spent with me getting to know me better, sharing her experiences, exploring my fantasies, and yes, penetrating my head space.  And in my kinky mind, that gratitude peaks  whenever she is feeling generous enough to permit a release.  Those moments usually arrive at the *ahem* climax following sustained periods of her expert teasing. As those precious moments arrive, my whole being (mind and body) become supercharged with emotions and sensations that wash over me.  I also become highly suggestible, and Ms. Angela, being the expert Domme and Mind-Fucker that she is, knows how to take full advantage.

One of the ways this manifests itself is the aforementioned requirement that I slurp down my own jizz.  I have a phrase for this — it’s an act of providing “kinky collateral” to her as a token of my appreciation.  I would be curious what the specific appeal to Ms. Angela has regarding this act (it may overlap with some of the material here — perhaps one of you ladies can ask her *big sheepish grin*)

I believe she is also a woman who like to probe my mind and push boundaries. In our time together she has cultivated the previously hidden slut in me, and I think that her further developing a cum fetish in me may be a part of that — another item in her tool belt, if you will.

Anyway, I have a tendency to get a bit verbose, so I’ll leave it there for now, not wanting to cut too much into the typical Monday night festivities.  Actually – that’s not entirely true – I am more than a bit greedy for whatever attention I can get from you fine ladies.

Hope all of you are well, and thanks for listening.

Sincerely, Slut R.

Special thanks to the sexy, awesome and beautiful Mistress DJ. Worship her ON TWITTER and serve her on NiteFlirt.

Saturday & Sunday (8/19 & 8/20)

1-800-863-5478
ext: 03191780

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Be there or be square.

xo, Angela

What’s that? Do I like birthday presents? Don’t all girls?

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*The five free minutes expires after two months.

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Wickedness.

That’s a word I never get quite right…a word that describes the things I want to play with.

It’s not about the pain for me so much anymore, though that’s not to say I don’t still enjoy it.

Physical pain is…too sharp.  The thuddiest club does not penetrate the way a wicked word or gesture will.

Just now I was in the bath and started thinking about what I would do if I had to pee.  Well, I’ve been in the bath and had to pee before, and I just hold it until I have to go pee, or go right away and get back to the bath.  Tonight, though, I was thinking about being made to pee on myself in the tub like that.

Then I started thinking about you peeing on me in the tub like that.

Then I started thinking about my being tied in the tub with my hands criss-crossed across my throat to the back of my neck, my elbows tied up straight so that my head was locked straight up and down.  Through that imagining I realized I could squeeze my elbows out, which would have the dual benefits of forcing my mouth up where it could easily be opened and closed while contracting my carotid arteries, making my dizzy and more vulnerable. 

My entire body would be exposed then and I imagined being that way for an hour or so at a party while folks came in and did as they pleased, not really talking to me, other than to occasionally mock me.

I wish my will matched my wickedness, so these could be true.

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Shared with me by one of the wicked-craving boys I know. He can’t get enough. He craves bottomless,  dark debasement with no escape. Yet he moves through the world as a gentleman, a scholar, a husband, a family member, a teacher … all roles he cherishes and thrives in.

It’s the endless predicament of kinksters, isn’t it?

I am so lucky to have such great callers, who take the time to leave me lovely. heart-felt reviews.

Thanks, guys!

Expectations always met. SINCERITY and CLASS personified. A truly sensual Domme.

We serve at her whim; we obey her every instruction. Her feminine, commanding voice demands our attention and devotion. She will accept nothing less, and we are better off for it.

Each detail is another depth of depravity.

Confession of one kept: Angela has yet again applied her torturous tourniquet to my libido. My manhood has been well-heeled by my mesmerizing mistress.

Phenom!

You know how someone tells you a movie is phenomenal and talks it up so much that you are disappointed when it’s merely great? Well that ain’t Angela! Some possible way she out performs her already amazing rating & feedback!

I checked in after a sojourn away and have determined that Ms. Angela is still the sexiest, smartest, most imaginative and most altogether best person to talk to on NiteFlirt.

Simply the best. Confidant, courtesan, & consummate cock tease.

Angela is an artist who creates beautiful, intense, and captivating fantasies using her voice. Her words and phrases, woven with tone, tempo and timing, enter your ear, but your mind and soul are her subject. Give yourself to Angela.

Ms. Angela rules with a satin-gloved fist. She plays the woman card to her advantage, and you love every minute of it. She is the Queen, the Princess, the Goddess of all she purveys. It’s her FemDomme world and we are all serving in it.

Oh but you must call. Listen to her weave her magic of words around you. Call for what you want, but you will want to please her.

You know where to find me, don’t you?

1-800-863-5478
ext: 03191780

xo, Angela