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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  ...

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Meditation on Wickedness

Thursday, August 17th, 2017

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?

Sneaky Boys Must Be Punished

Sunday, April 30th, 2017

phone sex sweetness

 

Note the not-so-subtle manipulation:

Dear Mistress Angela

Thank you for taking time to consider my plea.
I did disobey.
I ask and beg for your mercy and correction.
Correction need not be harsh to be effective.
I promise to do better every day.

Thank you for caging me. It is a privilege to be under your control. It is an honor that you take the time to make me do your bidding.

Please let me call again, and please do to me what brings you joy.

I am ever yours.

………….

Even though it’s already been three months, I’m thinking that cage might be on for the next year.

Of course, after I have him remove it so that I can implement proper correction procedures.

<evil grin>

 

(un)official announcement

Friday, July 8th, 2016

wb

The wife beater is now to be called to the pussy boy brutalizer.

the gluttonous whoreman

Wednesday, May 11th, 2016
  • always desperate for some serious, malicious ass-kicking   femdom phonesex manwhore
  • perpetually groveling for brutal & barbaric ego-smashing
  • controlled by a prurient, animal dick that I own
  • craving his Mistress, Goddess, Dominatrix, Boss Bitch

He wrote:

I go without you for so long. I look for you and long for you but you are away, living your life as well you should. Then I see it–an email that you’ve mentioned me in a tweet. I rush there and consume the snippets that you’ve written and ache ache ache for more but am denied because of my impotence.

I imagine this is what chastity and edging are like.

I replied:

You’re too much of a gluttonous whoreman to enjoy chastity or edging.

Now … castration might just be the perfect answer.

Don’t forget to check zen fetish. You’re my (un)shining star, after all.

Slave Modification

Friday, March 25th, 2016

It started with a nipple ring which grew larger and larger as the fantasy progressed (that is to say, the ring didn’t grow, the way I imagined it did).

Next was having both nipples pierced and chained together.

Next was having a steel cock ring welded on. This upgraded later to one that had a dial that could be turned which would extend spikes inward.

Then came the facial tattoos. At first it was just “slave,” then it became more intense and expanded to include scars and brands disfiguring me, even covering my head which was shaved bald. When the hair began growing back my skull was acid-washed to destroy the cells, as well as to further mark me.

Next came my tongue, which started as pierced by then was split instead.

And then. My teeth. All pulled.

Naturally without pain killers. No more hard food. Grateful that my lips were left so that I could survive without a tube, though I’d primarily be fed via a device that filled my mouth and I sucked on like a bottle. A reverse gag created that was basically a bite plate with pins so that I couldn’t close my mouth and that if I tried to grit my teeth in pain I would experience so much more.

Then you told me: You will be a more valuable cocksucker.

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Written by a devoted, twisted fuck. Who I happen to adore. And so enjoy torturing in our darkest of worlds.

xo, Angela