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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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Archive for the 'Erotic Humiliation' Category

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.

insect penis

Sunday, March 13th, 2016

Just look at it rutting around, the dirty little thing.

Apparently I’m a Supreme Princess

Sunday, February 7th, 2016

While I’ll never understand why a guy playing with his pecker whilst talking with me gets to then leave a review of my er, um, talent, he does.  Yes, you heard it, ladies and gents, an actual Phone Sex Review.  But then there are those times I’m just pleased as can be:

brat princess crown

“All hail to Miss Angela, the supreme Princess of NiteFlirt and superior Goddess to all men. We worship at her feet and bow to her every whim, for we are mere men. Miss Angela wields her power with grace, sophistication, sensuality and a knowing wit. We are her toys — to be controlled and used. We exist for Miss Angela’s entertainment. Aren’t we lucky?” ~Peter Roget

And all I can say to Mr. Roget is:  Kiss my ass, you filthy guttersnipe.

(because he likes it just that way)

xo, Angela

limp prick

Friday, December 11th, 2015

limpy

“The ultimate sexist put-down: the prick which lies down on the job. The ultimate weapon in the war between the sexes: the limp prick. The banner of the enemy’s encampment: the prick at half-mast. The symbol of the apocalypse: the atomic warhead prick which self-destructs. That was the basic inequity which could never be righted: not that the male had a wonderful added attraction called a penis, but that the female had a wonderful all-weather cunt. Neither storm nor sleet nor dark of night could faze it. It was always there, always ready. Quite terrifying, when you think about it. No wonder men hated women. No wonder they invented the myth of female inadequacy.”

Erica Jong
Fear of Flying

Do as you’re told, aberrant Romeo

Sunday, August 9th, 2015

In some respects I suspect you’ve got a respectable side.
When pushed and pulled and pressured, you seldom run and hide,
But it’s for someone else’s benefit, not for what you wanna do
Until I realize that you’ve realized I’m gonna say these words to you.

Yeah, you don’t know what love is,
You do as you’re told.
Just as a child of ten might act,
But you’re far too old.
You’re not hopeless, or helpless,
And I hate to sound cold,
But you don’t know what love is,
You just do as you’re told.

I can see your man can’t help but win any problems that may arise,
But in his mind, there can be no sin if you never criticize.
You just keep on, repeating all those empty “I love you”s.
Until you see you deserve better, I’m gonna lay right into you.

Yeah, you don’t know what love is,
You just do as you’re told.
Just as a child of ten might act,
But you’re far too old.
You’re not hopeless, or helpless,
And I hate to sound cold,
But you don’t know what love is,
No you don’t know what love is,
No you don’t know what love is,
You just do as you’re told.
Yeah, do as you’re told
Yeah.

————————————————————————

Special thanks to Mr. S. who sent this to me. (After all, Mr. S., it is *our* story, isn’t it?)