Dear Angela:

I am in bed naked and hard and aching for you.

Please allow me to come soon.

Please tell me you want me to cry out for you.

Please oh please let come.

In heat,

Mr. Horny & Denied

(come on, Mr. H & D, did ya really think it would be this easy?)

The Concierge

You are one of the concierges at my hotel, and had, earlier in the evening, noticed me waiting to speak with one of your male colleagues. After a while, however, I had seemingly lost patience and left when he was very busy.

Having just completed your shift, you see me in the hotel bar and come over to introduce yourself, and to make sure that I had eventually gotten the information I needed. As I offer you a seat and a drink, I fumble a little in telling you that I actually went from the concierge to the bellmen to get my question answered.

This admission piques your interest because, in your experience, guys by themselves on business trips, as I am, typically talk to bellmen to find out about local adult entertainment.

Using this as a cue, you proceed to teasingly interrogate me to get more specifics about my inquiry, and also share your own wisdom.

As you explain it to me, information from the bellman would probably take me to some of the basest establishments, and information from your male concierge colleague would most likely take me to some high end clubs or bring a party to my room. You, however, being a more devoted student of the hotel’s clientele know that some guests may have interests that are a bit kinkier.

The flush in my cheeks and hesitation in answering your more direct questions regarding the type of entertainment and fun I am seeking confirms your intuition, and you take great pleasure in making me confess to some of my desires before revealing that you would be delighted to have me as your party girl tonight.

…………………………….

A beautiful fantasy, sent by a beautiful, kinky caller.

And, no, I’m not going to tell you what happened next.

If you’re really curious, put on your panties and your  cock-sucking lipstick …

… and call me!

You silly little Sissy Gurl.

So Scunt ( AKA Debased Scunt, AKA Gentleman Slut) whom I kinda-sorta own, but not so much, since he’s quite the slut and pretty much any old Mistress will do when he’s itchy for some good old-fashioned persecution and mayhem, recently moved to a new place.

Recently single, Scunt found his version of the perfect bachelor pad:  close to work, lots of amenities, uber modern, a skylight. I’m certain he was thinking he could play on the vanilla side of life for a change, wowing the pretty girls with his slick new pad.

Nope.  Not a chance. Because a week after moving in, management installed storage bins in the basement.

And that changed everything.

Because those storage bins look — at least from Scunt’s perspective — very much like The Cage in which he longs to be held captive.

He begins obsessing, sending me multiple emails about The Cage, describing his twisted, craven fantasies. Oh he is in big-time heat.  The storage bins are taunting him, calling him. He walks past them every day; thoughts of the torture, the agony, the isolation, the craven abuse and neglect he would suffer if he were captured and held in the The Cage.

Then I open an email from Scunt with one sentence:

I decided to imagine that you had ordered me to get the hell over myself and into the cage where I belong.

And an attachment …

Be still my ‘lil Femme Domme heart!

That Scunt simply could no longer resist the belligerent mocking of the dastardly Storage Bins just about knocked me into Domme Space.   So with Scunt’s permission and a little bit of creative editing to keep him safe, here you have it: the reality of what Scunt is and what Scunt will always be.

So, mon sale petit cochon dégénéré, it seems the fancy place with the pretty windows and hardwood floors isn’t going to change a thing.  After all is said and done, you just can’t run from The Cage.  You can’t deny your pusillanimous heart’s traitorous desires.

Bachelorhood for you does NOT come with redemption.  You can move to heaven’s highest cloud and salvation will still elude you.

You are not The Continental.  The shampanya will not be flowing.  The party is over.

So get on your knees, kiss my ass, and crawl back into The Cage.

xo, Angela

Even a FemDomme needs to hear your appreciation now and again. And you do keep it coming, sweet boys. I read through my emails, your tweets, my Phone Sex reviews at NiteFlirt and I am forever grateful. As I often say to new callers, I may not get everything right the first time, but absolutely nobody can say I’m not putting everything I have into it.

I walk the way I talk, and I give what I expect to get … in every aspect of my life, including the Erotic Art of Phone Conversation.

You get it, you appreciate it, you are true-blue, you are my Manbeams, and here’s what you are saying about our long-distance Kink-A-Thons:

• What more can one say about Angela. She is the epitome of kink as she draws out your confessions, and then weaves them into a fantasy that has you begging for more than you ever thought you would as she joyfully pushes you farther into her realm.
• Thank You, my beautiful Mistress – I truly adore You!
• I am but a quarter note in the opus of Angela’s creative genius. She lets me play my flute for such a short time, but it is a privilege to play for such a magnificent cum-poser.
• Great Lady to talk to. Great Lady to play with. I will call again and again.
• She was okay I guess. 😉
• Well, Angela certainly put a collar on this caller. She rules with silk and daggers, finesse and a sledge hammer, nuance and frontal assault. I remain mad about her.
• Loveable, sensual, bright, witty, sexy … oh so beautiful inside and out … I want her so!
• We all have a fetish we enjoy. Mine, however, happens to be whatever Angela suggests. She could make ice cream kinky!
• A+
• There is no finer experience available on the phone. Miss Angela is caring, desirable, enticing, kinky, and thoughtful.
• Angela is so amazing!! She is the best on Niteflirt! She gets better every time. She makes me so crazy and knows just what buttons to push to make me cum so hard!!
• Altered States has nothing on the transformation Angela induces in me. Mistress stirs my primordial soup like no other.
• Wonderful experience. A well crafted combination of erotic fantasy and kinky instructions. Mistress Angela will call the tune and play you like a fiddle- hitting all the right notes even if you can’t read the music.
• vavavavoom – explosive!
• Best mistress ever.
• She said “ruin it then lick it.” That is so hot, and while it was hot,  She made it fun. This Lady is worth calling.
• I need to phone back and listen to more of what Angela has to say.. Angela has my attention. I want to continue to explore and dare myself. Just to the ultimate edge of complete and total nudity with only a sliver of thread covering my sex.
• Goddess Angela was amazing. She had me fully under her control.
• You want the best vacation in your life? Call Angela. She will take you places that will put to shame any trip you could ever take. The only problem is transitioning back to your particular reality.
• Ecstasy and Agony are ever twins of Miss Angela’s beautifully depraved imagination.
• Ms. St. Lawrence is truly a NiteFlirt treasure. She’s everything a woman in this business should be: ethical to the bone, sex-kitten to the max, deviant beyond imagination and HOT! HOT! HOT!
• The diva of debauchery. I love my conversations with Angela.
• So over the top outstanding – transformative, way fun and dead sexy – wow!

You really are my Manbeams … shining right back at me the absolute joy I get making your basest and kinkiest desires come to life.   I am forever grateful for your trust and belief in me.  I might kick your ass or take you to the very depths of depravity or bitch slap you into submission, but I always and forever love you to pieces.

Or perhaps INTO pieces.  *wink*

xo, Angela

A beloved client writes:

He has his reason for blue balls: 

Siberian man runs marathon in -36° weather

And I have mine.

—————————-

*innocently batting eyelashes*