Smoke Phonesex

JASMINE 844-332-2639 ext 262

Jasmine stands with her back to the fire, dark hair lit from behind, seemingly aflame. In a red dress she stands, the ever present cigarette in her hand. Sunk in chairs, legs crossed sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall, wherever she is, all our eyes hang fascinated upon her. Upon her face, her full lips, high cheekbones, hypnotic eyes and upon her perfect form.

The flames flicker; her half closed eyes waken to our mute appeal. As ever desire and the long drawn smoke of her cigarette weave about her,snakelike, slowly entwining her willowy frame; Around her neck it curls, she shudders, her eyes close. Ahh! Contentment! Power! Jasmine, who we know but will never truly know. Jasmine, the mysterious figure in the red dress.

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The Case of the Curious Clitoris Phonesex-Chapter 1

Goddess Rhianna 1-844-332-2639 x 253

“You have to relax now,” Rhianna said, her voice soft, yet commanding. “I’m going to insert two fingers.” Instinctively I dripped some warming lubricant onto her perfectly manicured fingers. “Give yourself to me,” she said. “I will have you. I. Will. Have. You.”

I watched as her fingers slowly massaged the clit of her latest client Maddy Lang, who Rhi affectionately nicknamed “Madame Curious Clit,” before entering her tight wet cunt. “How does that feel,” she asked. Her question was met with a groan of ecstasy. Naked from the waist down, perfect tits on display and kneeling between Maddy’s creamy thighs, Rhi said, “I’m going to kiss it now.”

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Mistress Rhianna’s Worship Me Phonesex

MISTRESS RHIANNA 844-332-2639 x 253

Yes, I know. I AM a Goddess and you are literally on your knees worshipping me. And you long to wear my collar. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get that all the time, you pathetic loser. But are you really worthy? There hasn’t been nearly enough groveling and begging and following through on your commitment to serve and worship Mistress Rhianna. I’m not even sure about how deep your commitment to worshipping me is!

And make no fucking mistake, faggot, I am going to hold you accountable. When I say “jump” you are going to say “how high?” OR ELSE. Or else what, you ask? Or else, you will never wear my collar, you will never receive further notice from Mistress Rhianna. Because I don’t need you, you need me… because without me, your life has no purpose, no meaning. Admit it. You are just a whimpering, quivering would-be cocksucker and cum eater not even worthy of the spit you beg of me, let alone the privilege of being tortured and forced to suck cock in my fully equipped dungeon.

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