web hit counter

Angela St. Lawrence is the reigning queen of high-end, long distance training and Femme Domme phone sex, providing esoteric depravity for the aficionado, specializing in Erotic Fetish, Female Domination, Cock Control, Kinky Taboo and Sensual Debauchery. To make an appointment or speak with Ms. St. Lawrence  ...


Archive for March, 2013

2:30 a.m.

Thursday, March 28th, 2013

2:30 and I can’t sleep, preoccupied with thoughts of you. I want to feel you against me, our legs entwined, my hands cupping your breasts, moving down over your stomach. I want the warmth between your legs, I want all of you.

It’s a religious institution, by God!

Saturday, March 23rd, 2013

Thanks to

Addicting Info and Director Jerome Davis

As it should be …

Thursday, March 21st, 2013

Miss Angela,

I sit with this email account and your twitter feed open, slavishly hoping to see a (1) pop up next to either of them. The email is the crueler of the two, alerting me with petty things that I could care less about. Every time it comes up, I rush to see if it is you and my heart aches when it is not.

It’s as if I’m searching in the dark, hoping for a ray of light…a taste of your attention. When I get it, I exult. When denied the void engulfs me.

Yours, Scunt

Are you a Kinky Leprechaun?

Sunday, March 17th, 2013

Today ONLY. I mean it this time!

You bring the green beer and green panties.

I’ll bring  my green strap-on.

Irish boys get a kiss.  Just one though.


Thank you very much …

Thursday, March 7th, 2013

… now get down on your knees.

Long distance domination is an art form.  When we are talking to you via the phone, we cannot read your face or take note of your body language.  And if you’re the silent type? Well, the girl who nails you is — in my book — immediately elevated from FemDomme Goddess to High Priestess of Kink.

You, my cherished and beloved callers, deserve the best.  Whether you crave financial destruction,  seek total transformation by an intellectually and spiritually superior woman, want to gets your balls kicked and your cock tortured, need a beautiful female to introduce you to the nuanced life of cuckolding or even desire she of the feminine persuasion to convince you that “sucking cock” is the one and true way for you …

… you’ve come to the right place.

Because I am the best.

I *am* the High Priestess of Kink, Goddess of Perversion, Mistress of  Cock-Pets.  And I absolutely delight in taking you down, down, down the rabbit hole.

But don’t take my word for it.  Five star reviews from your brothers in crime:

My cock weeps from her control.  (from a treasured chastity pet, who rarely gets relief)

She was always my favorite. Not only did she remember me, she also remembered everything we used to talk about. In detail. Truly amazing! (I am)

Beyond superb! Pushes envelope of what’s possible over the phone.  Transports one to the scene of your choosing, with her special embellishments. Leaves you happy, spent, content, yearning for another.  (very kinky guy who always challenges me)

Her sheer audacity amazes me. I am in awe of Angela.  (a king on his knees. yummy)

She’s the Mistress of Kink.  She’s a Dominatrix of Desire.  She’s Kinkella De Ville (and you’ll be her pet). But she’ll always be Mistress Kink-a-licious to me! (oh the dark places I’ve forced him to go)

She really is the best on NiteFlirt.  She took my fantasy and ran with it. She knows what she is doing and she will have you bursting! (blessed be the believer)

OMFG. If I had any doubts about whether I’d call or not before there’s no way I could resist now. We’ve never even had a session and I feel wrapped around her finger already. Her voice is as sultry as her mind is dark. (*batting eyelashes*)

She’s much smarter than you.  (he knows and you will too)

You are so very special, Mistress Angela. Talking to you always is very special — and I didn’t think it would even go deeper. Thank you. (a very good boy)

Blessed perversion with a twist. If that menu item appeals, then there is no other choice but Angela. (that’s right, darling one)

I came, she saw, she conquered. Just not necessarily in that order. If you talked with her, you know exactly what I mean. (delicious)

She has an incredible imagination and uses it to weave sexy and kinky fantasies. She leaves me thinking of her for days and in a daze. (so well-behaved)

And now she owns every inch of me. And I’m smiling.  (MIA. deeply missed)

A dance in the darkness never felt as smooth as her mind reaching out to mine. Each step and swirl revealed new movements and new stages upon which to turn. (he has no idea how dark it is going to get)

Sexy, kinky, devious, beautiful, talented, superior, smoldering hot, legs that go on forever, wicked. The lady knows her stuff. And she knows men. (yes I am and I do)

And then there are the emails:

You are an impressive young woman. I’ve never understood what was missing in my calls to Mistresses until I talked with you.  You have an uncanny ability to deeply delve into and connect with the submissive mind. I am yours forever.  (yes, you are)

You are amazing.  Not sort of amazing, but really amazing in the way you put things together.  The writer in me sees real, honest and sincere talent.  What you do with it is up to you, and I’m glad to be the beneficiary of it, but you ought to know it’s there.  Whether you mean to or think you’re just playing, you’re doing a number on my head to the point I’ve been tempted to call the whole thing off more than once.  I wanted you to know the level of effective skill you have at creating a scene and a mood. Just so you know. (more to come, dumb-bunny)

You know me in such a way that all my pretenses and defenses and offenses fall away. I am free and I have the world. And what I can give I wish to give to you, and what I have is me, so I give myself completely and utterly to you.  I want my heart to be filled with you.  I want to be your footstool, your headrest, the wall you lean on, the cup of water you drink from.  You are the only Mistress I want to serve. (a favored slave)

And the Poetry:

My Divine Mistress,
To be your slave is to be.
To be your slave is complete joy.
You make me tremble when you accept my words of love, when you make it public to others.
I give you myself completely. Completely.
You have my mind, my heart, my desires, my lust, all in your hand.
I adore and worship you. I rest my cheeks on your feet.
To be your slave is to be.
I am your abiding servant.


Whatever you do to me
Whatever you say to me
I will love you whatever, for ever.


My Mistress.
I bow to you.
You know me.
You know my heart.
You know my desires.
As you have accepted me, I accept you.
I give myself to you completely.
I am yours.

I will kneel when you tell me, stand when you tell me.
I will sit at your feet.
I will do your nails.
I will comb your hair.
I will cook your food.
I will bring your books to you, open them in the page you bookmarked, and hand them to you.
I will fold your socks.
I will iron your shirts, your jeans, your towels, your napkins.

I will drop all my boundaries.
I will honor you, respect you, and give you nothing but honesty.
I will make my servitude your shield.

I will give you dominion over my body, for you to do with it as you choose.
I will be obedient to you and care for you in every way you wish.

I will trust you because you are my Mistress.

I could go on and on and on. Because I’m serious about this and do save each and every email, poem, every missive, every comment.  I guess one might say I’m archiving you devotion.  Shouldn’t somebody?

And while I don’t really brag so much, because it’s just way too overdone and stupid guys fall for it and I don’t like stupid guys (they’re so one-note and quite boring), I *am* bragging today.  I know what I am doing, and I do it well.  Even when dominating a submissive, I still value and appreciate their contribution to what is, quite seriously, a symbiotic relationship.  I expect excellence, because I provide excellence.

I’m not a copycat, I don’t jump on trends, and I don’t have a zillion fake personae.

When in session with a slave boy, I pay attention, listen closely.  Do we one hundred percent always connect?  Of course not.  Quite frankly, more often than not, the blame for that disconnect falls on him.  I can’t make a silk purse from a sow’s ear, despite my talent.

But when we connect?

Self Actualization.  Maslow knows.

Remember this, my loves:

Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.

Henry David Thoreau