![]() | Serious Fuck Me PumpsMonday, September 28th, 2009 |
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via Hippy of Doom at Deviant Art
Angela St. Lawrence is the reigning queen of high-end 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 CLICK HERE.
![]() | Serious Fuck Me PumpsMonday, September 28th, 2009 |
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via Hippy of Doom at Deviant Art
![]() | Help for Little WilliesWednesday, August 19th, 2009 |
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![]() | R U a Little Weenie Boy?Tuesday, May 5th, 2009 |
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A sub-fetish of Erotic Humiliation
Think of it as a form of VERBAL BDSM. I mean, after all, the Phone Domme can’t really use whips and chains and Ben Gay (ouch, indeed, very much). But she can use words. It is arguably more erotically powerful to dominate with real words — real bad, mean words — rather than "and now I am going to beat you." And what matters most to a man? His dick. It may seem a trite observation, but it is nonetheless true.
I often say that our poor men — they just can’t help it. After all, it’s like God created them with the supreme disadvantage of having a gear shift sticking out right there, right there in front for the world to see … even with the cover of trousers! How can the NOT think about it all the time? And it makes them very vulnerable, doesn’t it?
So why not go for the girth? Make every word count and hit him with those words where it hurts the most? Only, in this case, with pain — there’s no gain. Little Willie leaves the encounter none the worse for the wear … but none the better. His sad puny prick is still sad and still puny.
It makes sense. Penis size is very much on the male mind (don’t ask — he won’t admit it) at least some of the time. Hornswaggling, doolally spammers bank on it. In my personal email recently:
Now, admittedly, this Mystery Meat (pun intended) was more than likely sent from the one and only internet cafe in some backward jungle — the spammer believing the hype of myriad porn sites. But he is on to something and it must make money, because everybody finds this stuff in their in-boxes. Even me, and I have a very feminine personal email address. It’s the marketing method of Quantity over Quality … just like a Size Queen Fantasy! The irony is delicious.
Besides being a subcategory of Erotic
Forced Bi Fantasies will often contain at least a portion of Small Penis
So Big Cock, Small Cock, Average Cock … what’s it all about, Angela?
Well, you might recall that I actually wrote an about this in an essay, Erotic
As far as me, personally: Is bigger better? Do I or don’t I? Well, you’ll just have to READ ALL ABOUT IT.
xo, Angela
![]() | Heffner Does Klimt (SEXY)Sunday, April 26th, 2009 |
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No, not that Heffner. We are talking about Burke Heffner, of course: my favorite-est Pin-Up artist/photographer. You may have read my interview? So I do occasionally check up on Mr. Heffner to see, well, just what the heck he is currently up to. And what do you know? Here (in all its glory) was this incredibly sexy and evocative homage to Klimt’s unarguably most famous painting.
Dare I say it? I do believe Burke’s version is better. I may have to inquire into just what it would take ($$$) to get this home and onto my bedroom wall.
Bravo, Dear Burke. Bravo, Kudos and kindly kisses.
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Phone Sex Quote of the Day
Men don’t put as much stock in pictures of Phone Sex Operators as you’d think. Because — to be honest — the more you stroke, the better she looks. (Mr. F.)
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Phone Sex FemDom Goddess of the Day
Okay, I’m going to fess up: I am so smitten with Goddess Lycia that I could easily step down from my very own (somewhat rickety — I will admit) pedastal to worship at hers. She’s that incredibly and honestly sexy. It’s in a very "real girl" way, and I often wonder How does she pull that off – that home-spun beauty magically entwined with an edgy and slighty dangerous mystique? For Goddess Lycia, it’s all about Mind Control. And you do know what they say about the brain being your largest sex organ?
You don’t? That’s okay. Goddess Lycia is a highly sought after HypnoDomme specializing in love and addiction, tease and denial, humiliation, feminization, and financial domination, and she will show you the way. The only way.
Who worships at Goddess Lycia’s altar? In her own words: My boys are one or more of the following: submissive, vulnerable, helpless, hopeless, weak, mindless, manipulated, brainwashed, teased, denied, hypnotized, sissified, feminized, objectified, dominated, addicted, controlled, horny, hard, in love, obsessed, losers, wimps, panty-boys, piggies, atm machines, financial slaves, chastised, demoralized, cuckolds, empty, blank, puppets, sex slaves, sex toys, footstools, ashtrays, perverts, suckers, ass-lickers, boot-lickers, toe-suckers, house-cleaners, crossdressers, forced to be bi, forced into slavery, depersonalized…Which ones are you?
As our lovely Fem Fatale says at her website: Prepare to become addicted.
xo, Angela
![]() | Beauty and the BeastMonday, April 20th, 2009 |
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You’re Beautiful
by Simon Armitage
You’re beautiful because you’re classically trained.
I’m ugly because I associate piano wire with strangulation.
You’re beautiful because you stop to read the cards in
newsagents’ windows about lost cats and missing dogs.
I’m ugly because of what I did to that jellyfish with a lolly
stick and a big stone.
You’re beautiful because for you, politeness is instinctive, not
a marketing campaign.
I’m ugly because desperation is impossible to hide.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
You’re beautiful because you believe in coincidence and the
power of thought.
I’m ugly because I proved God to be a mathematical
impossibility.
You’re beautiful because you prefer home-made soup to the
packet stuff.
I’m ugly because once, at a dinner party, I defended the
aristocracy and wasn’t even drunk.
You’re beautiful because you can’t work the remote control.
I’m ugly because of satellite television and twenty-four-hour
rolling news.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
You’re beautiful because you cry at weddings as well as
funerals.
I’m ugly because I think of children as another species from
a different world.
You’re beautiful because you look great in any colour
including red.
I’m ugly because I think shopping is strictly for the
acquisition of material goods.
You’re beautiful because when you were born, undiscovered
planets lined up to peep over the rim of your cradle and lay
gifts of gravity and light at your miniature feet.
I’m ugly for saying "love at first sight" is another form of
mistaken identity, and that the most human of all responses
is to gloat.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
You’re beautiful because you’ve never seen the inside of a
car-wash.
I’m ugly because I always ask for a receipt.
You’re beautiful for sending a box of shoes to the third
world.
I’m ugly because I remember the telephone numbers of
ex-girlfriends and the year Schubert was born.
You’re beautiful because you sponsored a parrot in a zoo.
I’m ugly because when I sigh it’s like the slow collapse of a
circus tent.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
You’re beautiful because you can point at a man in a uniform
and laugh.
I’m ugly because I was a police informer in a previous life.
You’re beautiful because you drink a litre of water and eat
three pieces of fruit a day.
I’m ugly for taking the line that a meal without meat is a
beautiful woman with one eye.
You’re beautiful because you don’t see love as a competition
and you know how to lose.
I’m ugly because I kissed the FA Cup then held it up to the
crowd.
You’re beautiful because of a single buttercup in the top
buttonhole of your cardigan.
I’m ugly because I said the World’s Strongest Woman was a
muscleman in a dress.
You’re beautiful because you couldn’t live in a lighthouse.
I’m ugly for making hand-shadows in front of the giant bulb,
so when they look up, the captains of vessels in distress see
the ears of a rabbit, or the eye of a fox, or the legs of a
galloping black horse.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
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I’ve been reading a lot of interesting poetry lately, in fact on a daily basis, because it’s Poetry Month and I’m on the Knopf -Doubleday mailing list for the daily email. I’m still trying to figure out what the antiphonal repeating chorus is about, but still … it’s a great poem. I can almost hear the man’s (husband’s?) whine in every verse as he describes their differences. Or he could just be a caller describing his relationship with his Phone Sex Princess/Goddess/Mistress. Either way, it works. It’s that Petrarchian thing again.
Do make a point to visit the poet’s website, where there is some interesting video. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight anyone?
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Phone Sex Goddess of the Day
The divinely dangerous Miss Lauren of Lauren Rules just might be the woman who finally breaks you. A voluptuous blonde who excels in training, using and abusing the male animal, Mistress Lauren is a force to be reckoned with. If you’ve been seeking a powerful and confident Mistress — and feel you haven’t yet quite met your match — then you simply must call this intoxicating and hypnotic beauty. While you still have possession of your own balls (because She WILL soon own them) visit LAUREN RULES. And don’t forget THE BLOG, which will absolutely make you weak in the knees.
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Phone Sex Advice of the Day
Manners count. It’s that simple and that important. PSOs are not any different than the women you meet in your everyday life. You might even have a female friend that is a PSO and you don’t even know it. Would you want her to see you acting that way? We won’t (unless you called an idiot PSO) judge you by your kink. But we will judge you by your politesse or lack thereof. It’s human nature; and we are, after all human. Just like you. Which is exactly the point.
xo, Angela