The Mangina Monologues Phone Sex

TEEN DOMME RHIANNA 1-844-332-2639 x 253

Emma, the no good bitch had phoned me earlier that day, knowing full well that I’m in no way shape or form a morning person. “What the fuck,” I said into my Iphone, barely awake. “You know what time it is?” She then started blathering on and on, claiming she was going through some sort of sissy slut crisis and only I could help. Well naturally. I did after all create Emma, so to speak, transforming a disgusting, boring nine to fiver named Roger, afraid to even wear a pair of nylons into  a cum-guzzlingcocksucking sissy slut, who could work over a dick with the best of ’em, no matter the size, shape or color all while rocking a pair of sky high heels and amazingly gorgeous  bra and panty sets.

“Listen girl, “Emma said, “you gotta help me. And fast!”

We were sitting in a booth at Pete’s Diner, a hip and happening spot that in West LA. It had this cool 1950’s motif that I find a little trippy. In a departure from my usual breakfast of air and a few bites of fruit salad, I had their signature dish “loaded French Toast,” topped with fresh maple syrup from Vermont, four slices of thick slab bacon and a bottomless cup of coffee. Hey, sometimes a girl has gotta splurge.

“It’s just,” she said tears forming in her eyes, “I don’t feel beautiful.”

“That’s it?” I said, now starting to get majorly annoyed at having to get up this early for nothing. “All of us girls feel that way now and then.”

“Really Rhi, even you?”

“Well,” I said, “there are always exceptions.”

And then the waterworks happened. Niagara Fucking Falls!

“Okay, alright,” I said, “settle down now Em.”

I looked around the diner, people where starting to notice. Damn, this was getting embarrassing, I thought. Not only that it was annoying as hell, I didn’t envision spending my Saturday morning having breakfast with a crying queen.

“But what am I supposed to do Rhi?”

“You’re gonna do what every other girl does when their confidence starts to wane.”

“And what’s that?”

You’re gonna go shopping, get buzzed and get some cock.” 

When our shopping spree had come to a close, Em and I parted ways and agreed to meet up later that night.
After a power nap and my customary long luxurious bath, I picked out my attire for the evening – a tight hot pink cocktail dress that hugged my ass like a long lost relative and matching heels with an open toe.

I picked up Emma up around nine-thirty and off we went.

 “Driving a little fast aren’t you girlfriend,” Em said, clutching her handbag.

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” I said, and pressed down on the gas the speedometer inching towards 75.

I looked over at Emma. She was white as a ghost. I’ll admit a big part of me was taking a perverse pleasure in her fear.

“Wanna see what this bucket of bolts can really do,” I asked with a wicked laugh.

“Oh dear me,” Emma shouted, closing her eyes as tight as she could …

When we arrived at our destination, Emma let out a sigh of relief and said told me that she might take an Uber home.

I laughed again and called her a pussy.

“Oh god Rhi, you know how I hate that word,” she said.

The club I brought her to, on the surface looked like any old nightclub you’d find in any major American city, complete with loud music and overpriced drinks.

 I ordered myself two Jack and Coke’s, and told the bartender to hold the Coke, while Emma chose a Cosmo (of course.)
As we drank, we dished on some of the eye candy that was plastered all around the joint. In particular, this little goth waitress with a belt for a skirt had caught my eye. She had short black hair and her back was covered in ink.
“Goddamn,” I said out loud, watching her adorable little tits shake and sounding like a total predatory dyke.
I took another sip of my drink and reminded myself that this wasn’t my night, tonight was all about my girl Emma.

“See anything you like,” I asked her.

“Oh yeah girlfriend,” she said, “these boys are h.o.t, hot.”

“Wanna see where the real action is?”

Without hesitation she said, “Lead the way.”

As I said, on the surface this was your run of the mill night club, but underneath,in the basement another story was told.

As I led Emma through the darkness, she took my hand, and I could sense she had grown nervous.

I whispered to her, “Trust me, have I ever let you down before?”

And then suddenly, a loud thud, as bright lights aimed down onto Emma, who had now found herself alone, locked in a small room of mirrors.

“Rhi,” she called out, “where are you?”

I didn’t answer, I was watching from behind a two-way mirror. Emma growing increasingly more confused, began pacing around, until she stopped when she spotted a cock poking through a hole in one of the walls … then another, and then another …  until there were ten cocks in total all for Em’s enjoyment.

She dropped to her knees and like a crazed beast attacked the cocks with her wanting mouth. Going back and forth from cock to cock sort of like a slutty version of “Whack-a-Mole.”

“I’m having a wonderful time,” she shouted before taking another dick down her throat. Overcome with lust she tore off her dress and panties and started furiously rubbing the top of her little clitty dick.

Shortly after, the cocks began to explode thick loads of cum and Em did her best to collect every last drop on her face and lips.

“That’s it Em,” I said, “paint your sissy slut whore face with that cum!

“Yes, oh yes,” she was shouting. “I feel beautiful! So! Beautiful!

Moments later, three black men entered the room and without warning started to man-handle Emma, and she loved every second of it. In no time, she had a big black cock up in her boi pussy and two in her mouth.

On that note, I decided to leave.

My job here was done, Emma once again felt sexy and beautiful.

Besides, I had a cute goth girl waitress to talk to ..

… I hope she likes driving fast.

 

RHIANNA 1-844-332-2639 x 253

http://www.sinfullysexyphonesex.com/rhianna/

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