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He wants me to teach his wife

Empress Pamela — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 01:35:04 +0000

When I was in college I dated a guy who had submissive fantasies. He loved bondage and domination, loved cock and ball torture, teasing and denial. And he loved pegging. The sight of my strap-on made him so aroused he’d get a fine tremor in his hands that slowly spread through his entire body. Once I realized the power these fantasy-fulfillment scenes had over him I limited him to one day a month, the second Saturday of the month, during which he was entirely mine to do with as I pleased, the only caveat he made being that he would be allowed to orgasm by the end of the day. Which seemed more than fair, at the time.

As the day approached, I would tease him, saying things like “second Saturday is Submission Day,” building up his excitement to the point that he was willing to do anything I wanted — including being forced to wear women’s clothing. or wearing nothing but a thong while I was entertaining guests. The whole clothed female naked male thing really drove him wild. And it was this willingness I exploited in the days leading up to The Day, testing the depths of his submissiveness and his capacity for erotic humiliation.

He called me the other day, saying he’d gotten married recently and he wanted to know how to broach the subject with his wife. He even asked me if I would be willing to talk to his wife about it. Now wouldn’t that be an interesting conversation? Apparently its been long enough since he’s had a good old-fashion D/s session that he’s been masturbating compulsively to the memories of the things I’ve done to and with him. Poor dear. I told him I’d think about it.

What do you think? Should I help him break it to his wife that he’s a sub, and teach her how to dominate him?

For an erotic phone session with Empress Pamela, call 800-601-6975
Calls are $2.50 per minute, with a 10 minute minimum
Discreetly billed to your credit card
http://www.ratemycall.com

Ode to the Teenie Weenie (humiliation fetish)

Empress Pamela — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 17:51:57 +0000

Are you interested in hearing an erotic audio of me doing small penis humiliation? You can find the link here.

“So you want someone to humiliate you? How pathetic is that? What kind of pathetic loser gets off on a woman verbally berating him about the size of his cock, his intelligence, his bank account? So you think your cock is too little? Get over it. Stop wasting your time obsessing about something you cannot change. Its teenie-weenie, boy, but it’s just one area of your life. I’m sure you’ve managed to compensate by educating yourself, right? Impressive advanced degrees and all that. No? You mean you’ve got a mini-cock and you’re stupid, too? How dull. I bet when you are talking to a beautiful woman you can’t string three words together without stammering. Well, then, you must be very athletic. I bet you work out a lot and have a really hard body–abs of steel and all that–the ultimate teaser for women. Lure us in thinking you’re going to be spectacular in bed, only to realize you’ve got a vienna sausage for a cock. But no, you’re probably some unfit, unshaven slob, too. I doubt you can even afford to call to me. And even if you could, why on Earth would I want to talk to you, boy? I’m way out of your league.”

While I do not consider myself a Humiliatrix, I do enjoy mild erotic humiliation and teasing. There is something delightful about knowing that some of you actually get hard when I tease you about your tiny pin-dicks and how completely unsatisfied they leave me. And it is so much fun to egg you on, to have you stroking just for me. So if you are looking for mild, light-hearted erotic humiliation, give me a call or send me a email to discuss what makes your itty bitty teenie weenie hard.

Domina Pamela
(800) 601-6975
Email: Empress.Pamela@yahoo.com

For an erotic phone session with Empress Pamela, call 800-601-6975

Must be 18+ to call

Calls are $2.50 per minute with a 10 minute minimum

Discreetly billed to a major credit card

http://ratemycall.com/

When I own you

Empress Pamela — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 06:13:55 +0000

Listen to the audio file here.

I want your cock. Large or small, thick or thin, I want it. I want to own it. I want to tame it and train it and tease it. Deny it. Bring you to stunning orgasm with it.

Why? Because through it, I own you. If I own your cock, your first thoughts in the morning, when you wake with the morning wood, will be of me, won’t they? Every time you take a piss, your fingers on your dick will make you think of me. Every time you sit down and your balls are compressed, you’ll think of me. You’ll think of me and the incredible pleasure you feel stroking for me, how much you enjoy pleasing me, and how delicious it is to be owned by me. When your world narrows down to my voice in your ear and the pulse of your cock and the knowledge that you are one half-stroke away from orgasmic annhiliation — well… nothing else matters. It is a state of being so addictive you seek to experience it again and again… but you can’t get there alone, can you? No, you need me. Admit it. You need me. You need my voice in your ear like you need air in your lungs. Without me, stroking your cock is just a form of exercise, a selfish act of self-pleasure, of self-soothing. Without me, you’re just like all the other men out there–just some porn-addicted stroker who wonders why he’s still not satisfied even after he’s cum. Why is that? Because playing solo isn’t what you want. You want your cock under someone else’s control, you want to be egged on, teased, denied, abused, edged–until, when you finally hear my voice in your head telling you to cum, cum NOW–well, when you cum, your toes curl and your brain flashes with lights behind those tightly closed eyes and you are dizzy with wonder and release. And your cock, your poor OWNED cock, wants nothing more from you–and me–than rest.

The first thing you think of in the morning, and the last thing you think of at night. Thats what I want to be. That’s what I will be. When I own you. When you’re owned by me, body and soul, cock-lock and key.

Clothed female, naked male fantasies (CFNM)

Empress Pamela — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 16:33:00 +0000

So I have this regular phone sex client who loves the whole Clothed Female / Nake Male (CFNM) thing, especially combined with Cock and Ball Torture (CBT). We had an interesting session this weekend involving me finding him masturbating with a pair of my panties and punishing him. The punishment was stripping him naked and making him serve me and a group of my friends who did a wide variety of humiliating things to him, ranging from tying up his cock and balls and putting hot pepper sauce on them, spanking him over a grandmotherly knee, and violating him with the handle of a hair brush. One of my women friends has the most amazing breasts, big milk-white DD with the palest pink nipples. I knew he had a thing for large breasts so I made him pant like a puppy and lap at her nipples. I even made him hump her leg. It was hysterically funny from our perspective, and erotically humiliating for him.

I was telling my sister about his antics and as I did, it gave me such wonderful ideas for next time. I’m thinking about emphasizing the whole puppy thing… stripping him down and and making him press his face into everyone’s lap to get a good whiff of them, then having my friends take their panties off and toss them around the room. Then his task will be to run on his hands and knees to get a pair of panties (while I spank him with a paddle) , get a good sniff of them, and then match the panties up with the appropriate lady. Doesn’t that sound like fun! His punishments and rewards could range from making him do things that emphasize the humiliating size of his small penis, to letting him fuck a nice big pair of titties.

If the thought of being naked and at the mercy of a group of high society women turns you on, give me a call for a session, either with me or with a second mistress to double the fun

Closet Cocksucker

Empress Pamela — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 08:18:35 +0000

I posted new audios to the Sissy School Forum at www.getgirlie.com and the Cock Control Forum at www.teasemania.com, so go check them out.

The most recent one I call Closet Cocksucker:
I know your fantasies. I know your dreams.
I’m so deep into your head that I can see what goes on in the playground of your mind, the smutty, dank, dungeon of your mind.
I know you fantasize about being bound and forced,
forced to do all those dirty, disgusting faggotty things
you secretly long to do.
I know you, boy.
I know that after you’ve watched your she-male sissy porn and jerked off to it, you can’t keep your eyes off other men’s packages.
You can’t help but wonder what their cocks look like as you spot them walking down the street, dismounting their bikes, sitting at a nearby table, their legs spread wide.
I know you want to crawl under the table. I see it in your mind, see that fleeting fantasy bloom in your mind before you shut it down with a mental “I mustn’t, its wrong.”
But as wrong as it is, your mouth waters when you imagine yourself tied up in some seedy dungeon with a big hairy man standing over you, his muscular thighs furred and his cock, still flaccid, twitching just inches from your nose.
And that is where I come in, me, the FemDom, the angelic demon in your head, saying:
Suck it!
Open your mouth, sissyboy, and take that cock into your mouth or I’ll make you hurt in ways you’ve never imagined you could hurt.
Open your mouth and tongue the head of that cock.
You know you want to.

Little Black Dress, Big Black Strap-on

Empress Pamela — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 10:20:19 +0000

Listen here.
I am a petite brunette with a penchant for little black dresses and big black strap-ons… and, well… guess what I’ve got hiding under that little black dress… Yes! Exactly! Doesn’t it make your cock stand, thinking about me, oh so elegantly dressed, with a strap-on underneath? Can you imagine me rubbing up against you at work, or on a dance floor, or in an elevator, teasing you with it? I know it excites you. I know you want to see it. I know you want me to lift up my dress and show it to you. Give it to you. On your knees or bent over, it doesn’t matter does it? You want me to give it to you, don’t you boy? And you’ll take it however you can get it… however I want to give it to you….

This is a fantasy for a lot of men, having a woman surprise them with a strap-on. It is rather a lot of fun to enact with all those men out there who so shyly, reluctantly mention their deep, dark fascination with cock. When I tease them with my strap-on, there is something about the expressions on their faces, something about the guardedness that arises, matching the rising of their cocks, that really turns me on. The tables turned, no longer expected to “be the man” some men readily surrender to the idea of a woman with a cock using them like a woman. Forcing them to their knees, forcing them to open their mouths, my fingers laced in their hair and forcing them to suck my strap-on, their own cocks hard and aching, dripping pre-cum, and moaning like bitches in heat.

Just think–that could be you… if you call me.

Careful what you wish for

Empress Pamela — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 01:12:20 +0000

He said he wanted me. He said he’d do anything for a chance at me. When I asked him to be more specific about what he wanted, he blushed a bit, then said he wanted to be naked in bed with me.

“And you said you’d do anything?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said in a rushed explosion of air from his lungs. “Anything.”

I smiled at him. A soft smile that hinted at intimacy to come. If he’d been looking into my eyes he would have seen the pity there. And he would have known that he was in trouble. Would have run the other way, even. Silly man, wine had made him brave enough to forget his reservations. And his gloves. When you play with fire, you really ought to wear gloves.

So I took him to my room. My cousin’s home, rather ostentatiously called a “chateau” for the benefit of the winery, had many rooms, and mine was at the end of a rather long hallway, as secluded from the vanilla guests as he could comfortably put me without incurring insult or temptation. There is a history between my cousin and me…

I let the beaming man into my room. He looked like a child, radiant with joy, and eager, oh so eager, to please. Part of me pitied him, but part of me looked pitilessly upon him. He had some lessons to learn, this man-boy. Three, in fact. One, be careful what you wish for, it might come true. Two, beware offering anything for something. And three, what drew him so strongly to me was my dominance–so it was time to learn about submission.

I stood before him, hands on hips and told him that his wish “to be naked in bed with me” was granted. I made him strip naked. Utterly naked, save for the ribbons I placed around his little cock and balls and tied into pretty bows. And I was in bed with him alright, crop in hand. After a few cuts of my crop he begged for me to let him go, and yet he was unbound. He was free to leave, I told him. He could pick up his clothes and step outside to dress whenever he wished. But he stayed, as I knew he would. His little cock was hard, all tied up in its frilly bondage, and he ridiculously held out hope that he’d get to be with me. Be inside me. Ewww.! Like I’d grant a pathetic small-dicked loser like him access to my body in that way! My body is a temple and he was fit only to worship at it. And so that is what I taught him. How to worship my body, how to be my throne, how to serve me. He said he’d do anything to be naked in bed with me, and, well, he nearly did everything.

There are some things I didn’t do. Like let him cum. He was intoxicated, afterall.

My little geisha gurl

Empress Pamela — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 06:53:13 +0000

I brought some kimonos back from Japan. There is one of gold silk with a peacock brocade and a sapphire blue obi. Another that is sky-blue silk with a brocade of a geisha and her maiko doing cherry blossom viewing from a boat. The obi for it is a pale pink that picks out the color of the cherry blossoms on the kimono. I also found one in a pale jade color with another geisha scene, this one silk-screened instead of brocaded. And I picked up a handful of yukatas as well, the lighter-weight kimono-type robes, and some of those odd split-toe socks that the Japanese wear with their sandals.

I’ve enjoyed dressing boys and gurls up as maiko (apprentice geisha). Some I have had to be very persuasive with, because they were rather reluctant to let me powder their skin white and put ornaments in their hair and dress them up and take them out. But others, well, there are some sissies out there who just love being dressed up and fussed over and taken for walks at the Japanese gardens. All those photo opportunities! I tell you, I swear some sissies cum in their panties just sitting there while people ask to take their photos.

Some of my clients find the process both very sensuous and pampering — from the long soak in the tubs, to the massages and the being slowly made up and dressed, coached on mannerisms, and then put on display like ikebana, a fragile flower arrangement. But there were some naughty subs that I had to tie up just like Denise Beryl in the Miss High Heels story and then cane them, or spank their hands and feet, or even gag them.

I wonder which of you will be next in line to be my little geisha gurl?

The Secret Life of John and Sara, 15

Empress Pamela — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 06:49:47 +0000

This is Part Fifteen of The Secret Life of John and Sara, started here.

The Secret Life of John and Sara is based on a true story. I’ve fictionalized it to protect the identities of my friends John and Sara, whose ‘secret life’ is secret for a very good reason. John is a Silicon Valley CEO, a sissy and a cuckold, and Sara is a 40-something nymphomaniac Nurse Administrator. I was going to end with episode 14, but I heard from people asking me to continue, so here is the rest of their story:

Watching John blow his load in Sara’s mouth was intense. Underneath the lingerie and make-up was a man who bellowed when he climaxed. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and squirted on her face, and as he did so he verbally humiliated her, finally venting the months of frustration and agony he’d felt over being cuckolded. He needed that release, and I think that, ultimately, Sara needed to know that her husband was still a man. After marking her as his territory, it seemed to me she wouldn’t have any more doubts, even if her husband did like to wear dresses on occasion.

As she obediently kneeled for her facial, I slipped my hand between her legs. The space between her thighs radiated heat, and when my fingers touched the crotch of her pants, they found a slippery wetness. Sara was so aroused she’d soaked through her panties and her pants.

“My, my,” I drawled into her ear. “You’ve enjoyed being treated like a slut, haven’t you, Sara?”

Her only response was a shudder as my fingers pressed hard along the seam of her pants.

I grabbed her by the hair and forced her to her feet, marching her into the nearby bathroom. I shoved her toward the large oval mirror, so she could see the globs of her husband’s cum on her face.

“You’re done, Sara. No more boy-toys. No more cock-locks.”

I gestured for John to come into the room and stand beside Sara before the mirror.

“See him?”

She closed her eyes in rejection of the sight of her husband. I tightened my hand in her hair and shook her.

“See him? He’s a man who likes to wear lingerie. So what? He’s got a cock that works and hands that know how to hold you. What’s your bitch, slut?”

(To be continued…)

The Secret Life of John and Sara, 14

Empress Pamela — Sat, 29 Aug 2009 07:19:17 +0000

This is Part Fourteen of The Secret Life of John and Sara, started here.

The Secret Life of John and Sara is based on a true story. I’ve fictionalized it to protect the identities of my friends John and Sara, whose ‘secret life’ is secret for a very good reason. John is a Silicon Valley CEO, a sissy and a cuckold, and Sara is a 40-something nymphomaniac Nurse Administrator. Here is their story:

“I said SUCK IT!” My tone was forceful and demanding and brooked no argument.

Sara opened her lips, took John’s twitching sex into her mouth and started sucking. He groaned beautifully as his poor tortured cock–finally freed of its chastity device–grew in her mouth, a sound of mingled pain and pleasure. He grabbed for his wife’s head and I released her into his hands, watching as his long fingers bunched in her hair and buried her face against him. She gagged a bit and tried to pull back but I pressed my hand against the back of her head.

“Take it you little bitch. Suck that cock!” I pushed her head even farther down onto him, holding her there until she started to heave and press her hands frantically against his thighs.

We let her get some air, and then John shoved his cock back into her mouth, fucking her face in earnest. I was really enjoying the sight of a man dressed up in women’s lingerie fucking a woman’s face. There was something almost poetic about both the scene and the payback.

I got down on my knees beside her so I could whisper into her ear, and I untied my little leather paddle from my belt. I gathered her wrists up behind her with one hand and with the other, I held my paddle.

“You are such a good little cock-sucker, Sara. I always imagined you would be,” I said into her ear and signaled to her John. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and then I let my paddle fall against her ass. She jumped and cried out.

“Owww!”

I paddled her a few times in short succession. She struggled a bit, sawing her wrists, but seeing as she could have easily broken my hold, it was obviously a token resistence. She was softening up very nicely.

I pointed at Sara, then mimed slapping my own face. I looked up at John. He gave me a questioning look. I frowned at him.

He slapped her. Then, in a moment of inspiration, he said, “Bitch, get back to sucking my cock!”

Sara gasped. “What did you call me?”

“Bitch. I’m your husband. Now. Suck. My. Cock.” And with that little serving of humiliation, he grabbed the back of her head and shoved it toward him, toward his stockinged thighs and panty-lined balls.

As he pulled his wife onto his cock, I grinned at John. The man was learning fast that he could be every inch the man even wearing panties. A cross-dresser he might be, but a sissy he was not. And I had a feeling that it was going to be a long time before Sara thought about cuckolding him again. We’d both make sure of that….

THE END (Or rather, the intermission. If I get enough interest, I might continue on to the good parts, you know, strap-ons and bondage and all that I DO SO LOVE COUPLES DOMINATION)