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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  ...


On My FemDom Good Side

Thursday, December 2nd, 2010

•••Secrets in Lace•••

How does he get there?

How does the phone sex caller end up on my good side when he hasn’t called in quite a  while?   Obviously, no phone means no do re mi for me me me.  Certainly not an optimal business arrangement as far as I’m concerned.  Time is money, no matter the profession, doncha know?  But he did earn his way to and has stayed steadily on my good side since the very beginning of my Phone Sex Career. 

Obviously history and mutual appreciation count for a lot, but how does one reinforce that connection and stay Angela Approved when only sending email?

Well a little bit of self-deprecation (auto-erotic humiliation?) mixed in with at least a pretense of timorousness goes a long way. 

Not to mention an exuberance for all things kinky (see the PS and click the Secrets in Lace link) and a comfortable, gleeful acceptance on one’s own particular bent.    Why is this important?  Because there is NOTHING WORSE than a phone sex caller who is embarrassed about his perversions. 

DO apologize profusely.  Do grovel … in that puppy dog way that makes me want to pet you and not kick you.  In the nuts.

DO be cute and charming.  Do make silly disarming jokes.  Do purposefully and eruditely mention things we’ve discussed so that I know that you truly do care and really are paying attention.  It matters more than you could possible understand.

DO include a "Daily Healing List."  Or something of that sort, along those lines, in that neighborhood, that shows me your efforts are sincere and from the heart.  Emailing and the ability to Copy & Paste have made for some pretty lazy communicators these days.  It’s tedious and time-wasting.  If that’s the best you can do, just don’t.

DO be sooo enamored with your personal sexual obsessions — in this case, curv-a-licious women in outrageously feminine and sexy as all get-out vintage (and vintage-inspired) lingerie — that with neither compunction nor discomfiture you recommend NOTHING LESS THAN a Nobel prize to the website tickling your fetish fancy.

In other words, make certain that I can do nothing less that adore you right back.


From a very good boy …..

Beloved and Darling Miss Angela:

OK, first things first: I am an asshole.  I really really really apologize for sending you a bunch of crap and kind-of nagging emails. I am so very sorry.  I didn’t mean to and just kind of got caught up in the moment, so I hope you will forgive me.

Now for the more important part of the apology:

I am aware that you have a life other than being the best conversationalist on earth. But temporarily I forgot about it.

So I fully understand that there are things in "real life" that you have to deal with, whereas I was being Mr. Computer Guy and Mr. Horny Goat… Thank you for being so patient and polite. I deserved neither. I’m not being a masochist, I’m just having a burst of unpleasant introspection, where I’m seeing myself in the mirror, and I don’t like what I see. And if there is one thing I want to always do is to treat people I like and appreciate with appreciation and respect and politeness.

I know that you experienced some tragedies in life (a brother that had drug problems I believe) and I know that you have a very good relationship with your mom and that you are (if I’m not mistaken) the one that is geographically closest to her. I know you love and care for your mom, and since you never mentioned a dad, I can assume (forgive me for assuming) that you are in some ways her primary caregiver. Having said all of that I can understand how scary and difficult it is to handle any unpleasant fluctuations in the Mom front. I think (again forgive me for assuming) that you guys are not just mom and daughter but also great friends. That makes things even more difficult: it’s not just filial responsibility, it’s also caring for someone you love.

I hope your Mom is OK. Again I apologize for assuming that there were some medical complications, but that’s what it sounded like from your brief email.

Oh dear… now I’m thinking maybe I’m being a total drama queen. Maybe the whole thing was just about your cat Mitzi breaking a 4800 year-old Ming vase at your mom’s villa in Cabo San Lucas. (Darn it! I knew I shouldn’t have watched 3 seasons of "The Hills". All that drama messed up my brain chemistry forever, not to mention causing me to lose 40 IQ points. And all because of Heidi and Spencer, the vile douchebags.)

Anyhow, I hope all is well, or as well as it can be. I have gone through some tough shit in the last year (Last year? How about the last decade?) so I can tell you that it is important to take care of yourself. Caring for yourself is an act of daily healing.

Daily Healing List:

Eat well. Veggies, fruits, no meat in the evening, olive oil, long grain rice, whole grain breads, etc.
– Don’t smoke. (ABSOLUTELY NO DRUGS!!!)
– Drink wine with food. A bottle a week.
– Have a daily non-exhausting workout regimen. Swim if you can, ride a bicycle if you enjoy it.
– Read good books.
– Drink 2 liters of good liquids a day. That’s 8 cups. "Good" means no Cola, Pepsi, etc. Yes, you will pee a lot, but so what?
– Don’t eat trashy junk food. (Tostitos, Oreos, Doritos, potato chips, etc)
– Sleep well.
– Air out your house every day.
– Make sure your bedroom is clean and organized.
– Floss every day. (The more you floss the less it will hurt.)
– Pamper yourself. Buy an electric toothbrush, drink flavored teas, own a soft bathrobe, eat spinach salad even if it’s more expensive than lettuce, buy a small wooden stool for when you stretch your feet, own a piece of satin lingerie, experiment with different fun lipsticks, read Marcel Proust in bed in satin lingerie, get a professional manicure once a month.
– Have a plant, even if it’s a cactus.
– Read about religion. Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, whatever. Exclude Islam which is a gang, Mormonism which is a corporation and AlGoreanism which is a scam. Read about history – the French Revolution, the Ming Dynasty, the Greeks, the Persians, etc etc. Both provide calm and perspective.
– Hang paintings and pictures on the walls.
– If you have the space, have a nicely upholstered old-school comfortable couch in your bedroom.

So this is my gift to you. The trick to spoiling yourself with small simple things, on a daily basis, and most are inexpensive. I hope that I’m not going too Deepak Chopra on you. (I think he is a douche. But I’m saying that with love.) (Or as Triumph the insult comic dog would say, "He is a nice guy,… for me to poop on!")

And forget all my stupid and childish nagging about that image. You know, I’m sure I have a backup of it somewhere (or ten), and this will motivate me to put all my dvd’s in order, and to write that utility to catalog and search the dvd’s. Seriously. Sorry for nagging you. Meanwhile what the heck am I going to do with the 45 megabytes of black-and-white porn? Oh wait… yes… what a grand idea! 😉

Meanwhile that image I sent you has given me an idea. The problem with pegging is that for some reason people assume that men who like that are either masochists, or gay, or want to be sissified. I’m going to write a manifesto for men who love women who finger their men’s butt and more. A paean to prostate massaging and draining if you will. Oh yes, I can feel the Homeric juices flowing in me. This will be greater that the Odyssey and the Iliad put together! A portal to a higher level of intimacy between men and women shall be opened! And now the oppressed and unsatisfied (and unwashed) masses will have to thank me. 😉

OK, I just went over a 1000 words, so time to wrap this email.

Again, and seriously so, sorry for nagging you, I hope and pray that all is well with you and your loved ones, and that life lets you rest and sigh with relief once in a while. And as always, I stand by my unshakeable assertion: that you are the best, the very very best.

Thank you for taking the time to read my emails.

Humbly and adoringly, Mr. B

PS.  The amazing site you introduced me to, Secrets in Lace, has a new item and a new model — both of which are driving me to distraction.  Normally, I’m not very big on blondes, but this woman is in a class of her own.  The picture of the blonde and the brunette (here) is just heaven. I won’t indulge in details, but when I landed on this page half my day was shot, and I literally had to take two rests in between. That site is heaven. It’s art and desire and fantasy fulfillment and style and time and and and. They deserve a Nobel prize.)


Dear Mr. B.:

While you didn’t "indulge in details," I know exactly what you did while you were there.  And you did it more than once, didn’t you?  You know I know, don’t you?

And I have to admit, there really is something quite charming, even disarming, about a man who detours the hard stuff for Secrets and Lace … and shoots half a day.  Or maybe more?

If you get my drift.  Because I certainly get yours.  *wink*

xo, Angela

The Chicken and the Horse

Monday, September 13th, 2010

On the farm lived a chicken and a horse, both of whom loved to play together.  One day the two were playing, when the horse fell into a bog and began to sink. Scared for his life, the horse whinnied for the chicken
to go get the farmer for help!

Off the chicken ran, back to the farm. Arriving at the farm, he searched and searched for the farmer, but to no avail, for he had gone to town with the only tractor. Running around, the chicken spied the farmer’s new BMW. Finding the keys in the ignition, the chicken sped off with a length of rope hoping he still had time to save his friend’s life.

Back at the bog, the horse was surprised, but happy, to see the chicken arrive in the shiny BMW, and he managed to get a hold of the loop of rope the chicken tossed to him. After tying the other end to the rear bumper of the farmer’s bike, the chicken then drove slowly forward and, with the aid of the powerful car, rescued the horse!

Happy and proud, the chicken drove the BMW back to the farmhouse, and the farmer was none the wiser when he returned.

The friendship between the two animals was cemented: Best Buddies, Best Pals.

A few weeks later, the chicken fell into a mud pit, and soon, he too, began to sink and cried out to the horse to save his life! The horse thought a moment, walked over, and straddled the large puddle. Looking underneath, he told the chicken to grab his hangy-down thingy and he would then lift him out of the pit.

The chicken got a good grip, and the horse pulled him up and out, saving his life.

The moral of the story:

When You’re Hung Like A Horse …

… you Don’t Need A BMW To Pick Up Chicks!

Balloon Fetish Fun

Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010

I’m just sayin ….

(Thanks to HDB for sending this.)

Have a sExY BOOM BOOM day!

Saturday, July 3rd, 2010

“Very Fine” Art

Saturday, June 12th, 2010

via: The Naked Truth