I’ve often struggled over the years with the moral and ethical implications of financial domination phone sex. (Click that link for a detailed blog post about the subject.) It’s important to me to feel good about the services I provide to my clients, and for a long time FiDo was just kind of distasteful to me. The self-proclaimed Financial Dommes I encountered came off as entitled, spoiled bitches, and I didn’t understand why anyone would want to throw money at someone I myself would have no respect for.
I’m somewhat ashamed to say that judgment colored my opinions about financial domination for a long time. However, the past few years have brought me a number of FiDo phone sex callers who have profoundly changed my ideas about the fetish. You see, it isn’t about the other phone sex findommes; it’s about me and how I choose to conduct myself and my business. It’s about being the kind of person and artist that a financial submissive can feel good about serving. You may feel that you are throwing money away and get off on that, but I don’t have to feel that way. I appreciate every dollar I have, and I don’t waste money frivolously. But of course that’s a matter of opinion, as I tend to spend on experiences rather than on possessions. I work hard at play and play hard at work, and I appreciate having the financial freedom to pursue my creative endeavors as well.
If you stumbled across this blog post while searching for a financial domination provider, you already know that I am different from the majority of spoiled brat, pay-me princesses out there. And if that’s your thing, hey more power to you; you have plenty of options, and I’m sure you’ll find a money mistress to suit you. However, if you’ve felt the irresistible pull of financial submission for some time but find the average FinDomme unworthy of your devotion and patronage, I invite you explore my personal website, especially my writings on financial domination. Discover who I am and consider whether you wish to serve someone who feels their very existence entitles them to your money, or whether you’d have a more satisfying sense of purpose knowing your patronage fosters my creative expression and life’s work.
Then…Take out your wallet, count your cash, and know your credit limit. Pick up the phone and prepare yourself for a different kind of financial domination phone sex.
I sleep with the windows wide open because I relish in hearing everyone’s day wind down to a close. That’s the lie I tell myself over and over every evening. In reality I sleep with them open because I can’t wait till the sun comes up. The sun’s first rays mean I can begin my daily ritual. I happily throw the blanket off of my body and bask in the cool morning breeze. I listen carefully to make sure none of my roommates are up. Then I slowly start touching my nipples through the thin white wife-beater I wear as pajamas. I rub them gently and delicately as if that would satisfy the impatient urge tingling between my legs. I keep caressing them through my shirt until my aching pussy will no longer accept this as payment in full. I am soon forced to pull up my shirt and continue rubbing my nipples a bit harder now like I mean business.
My pussy is now throbbing with yearning for a finger, a hard cock, or a cooperative mouth. This only means I will have torment my wet pussy even longer. Now I’ll have to change things up a bit. This means adding some pain for added pleasure. I start pinching my nipples. The harder I pinch them all the more moist and demanding my pussy becomes. Each time I pinch them I start to rub my thighs together and gyrate my hips like I am being fucked hard and fast. The pinching becomes more extreme until my fingers are clasped down on my nipples like miniature clamps. This continues until I am eventually forced to give in to my demanding cunt’s desires. Now I allow my right hand to search for my pulsating clit. I rub it up and down, building speed with each stroke. Jacking off my clit will carry on until I am forced to cross my legs so my cunt lips wrap around my finger like a hungry mouth that will never be satiated.
I am forced to bite my lip in order to stifle the urge to moan with pleasure. I can feel the sweet juices of my pussy moistening the tip of my finger as it urgently jacks off my clit. I can feel my clit swelling with desire. I stop momentarily to taunt myself. My head is swirling as if I am on a ride that only I control. I start again and build up speed. Now I allow my legs to open and I slip my finger into my luscious cunt. It is so wet that my fingers make moist noises from the succulent juices flowing there. If someone was outside my door they would surely hear the sounds of self sex. This thought turns me on even more. I sit up slightly so I can begin to thrust my finger deeper into my insistent pussy while still pinching my nipple as hard as I fucking can. I decide sitting up with my feet on the floor would be a great position to try so I will be able to sit up anywhere there is privacy and get off. This new position sends my finger flying in and out of my pussy on a mission. I try shutting my legs and this sends a tremor of pleasure into my brain I have never experienced before. I feel my engorged clit and cunt lips throbbing around my hurried finger. I am in heaven.
Time to finish myself off. I decide doggy style would be lovely. I get on my knees while still thrusting my soaking wet pussy with two fingers inside. I take my other hand and reach over my back and start gently rubbing my ass and teasingly touching my asshole, just momentarily letting my finger slip into it. This immediately makes me start to quiver with pleasure. My thighs are close to giving out from shuddering so much. I finally give in to my carnal desires and cum. I cum multiple times and realize I have bitten a hole in my lip from trying to remain quiet. I look in the mirror and see blood dripping toward my chin. Now my real day can begin…
If you like the sound of my naughty mornings, you should call me for self love phone sex!
I’ve had my fair share of sex. While I haven’t quite mounted all the cocks in Portland, I’m an unabashedly sexual creature, and I’ve definitely gone through a couple of very promiscuous phases over the years. Most notably in my late twenties after escaping an abusive marriage, and more recently (though not quite as extensively) after three significant relationships ended last year.
That sex has ranged from vanilla to kinky, from boring to fucking fantastic. It has occurred in private and public, sometimes with more than one partner at a time. It’s happened with people of varying sexual orientations and gender identities. It has been within the parameters of monogamy, marriage (both open and closed), non-monogamous relationships of many types (swinging, polyamory, etc.), D/s dynamics, casual/FWB situations, and one night stands.
I’ve also been a professional phone sex operator for over a decade, so I have a great deal of exposure to a multitude of fetishes and fantasies. I’ve built genuine intimacy with some of my clients and connect with them on intellectual, emotional, and creative levels that allow us to explore sex and pleasure in a mutually satisfying, if virtual, way.
In addition, I was raised to believe sex is natural and you shouldn’t be ashamed of experiencing sexual pleasure. I’ve often tended to have sex early on in relationships, as it’s a bit disingenuous for me to pretend to be virginal and innocent. More importantly, I have learned that a certain level of sexual fulfillment is necessary for my relationships to succeed for an extended length of time, and I’d rather know up front whether that chemistry exists or not. My most recent, slightly aborted dalliance with one night stands and casual sex has confirmed my sneaking submission that for physical sex to be worthwhile to me now, I require a partner who possesses a certain amount of knowledge about me and my turn-ons.
So. I’ve explored and experienced and evolved, sexually. I thought I’d had every kind of sex there was to have. And then Daddy came along.
For many reasons, we did not have sex right away. When it finally did happen, I think we were both surprised by the physical compatibility. From sweet, tender, sensual love-making to rough, hard fucking with a dash of sadism, I appreciate the freedom to be girly, bratty, nurturing, wanton, aggressive, obedient, or whatever I’m feeling in the moment with him.
There’s a *pull* there, like a rubber band encompassing the two of us. We part fairly easily, because we love and trust each other, and support one another in maintaining our other relationships and handling life/work responsibilities. But it seems the longer and further apart we are, the more the rubber band is stretched taut, the more the tension is felt. It starts as a vibration, a buzz, a low but constant ache that calls us back to each other, and it builds until we see one another again.
Sometimes, the magnetism is so strong that simply being physically in the same room isn’t enough. We hold each other and melt and breathe in the scent of *us*. We press our bodies together and sigh contentedly at the perfect fit, but the comfort and familiarity is anything but boring. It’s exhilarating, replenishing, rejuvenating. And incredibly sexy.
When we join in these moments, it’s a different kind of sex than I’ve ever had. It’s rough and intense and *raw*, but at the very same time it’s intimate, connected, loving. I feel as if my skin has a mind of her own and would fuse with his skin if she could. I feel like he is climbing inside the very center of my cunt, my heart, my body, and expanding within me until not even the farthest reaches of the universe can contain us. The orgasms scream themselves out through my heart and are reflected in his eyes, locked on mine.
This transcends merely having sex or making love. This is soul fucking.
If you crave your aural pleasure with an added dose of intimacy and connection, I’m here waiting to be your soul fucking phone sex lover.
Hello! How’s it going? Welcome to my first post after returning to Bay City Blues. I am so excited to be back!!
I was lying in bed naked, smoking a blunt thinking of how I needed some company. As many of you already know I am rather fickle as to the company I keep and in all honesty my preferences and turn-ons change from day to day so it can be hard for me to find the right companion for the immediate moment. I think the reason I’m a mix of lonely and horny today is because it’s so bloody hot in Portland at the moment. I grew up in the hellish Sonoran Desert so that means most of my sexual coming of age memories are drenched in slick, salty sweat perfumed with chlorine from swimming. I would soon find myself collapsed exhausted on the edge of a pool surrounded by the pungent scent of close teenage friends inundated with unwashed, teenage nervousness. I used swimming and the extreme summer heat as an excuse to get extra physical with my friends and flaunt the tight body I knew I had.
On abnormally hot days, if I was really lucky, I might even be able to convince one of my friends to shower with me after a long hard day of swimming. Strangely enough it was always the boys that took convincing. My girlfriends were always willing to shower talk about boys and wash my hair. I know it sounds clichéd but that’s what happens in the desert when you’re an only child with an overactive libido and way too much time on your hands. I guess where I’m going with all of this memory stuff is that summer always gets me especially hot and bothered. It always makes me feel like a teenager again. I just want to smoke pot and frolic naked with pretty people every day until the sun goes down.
So what’s it going to be? Kinky summer phone sex camp games? A day at the lake both of us drunk for the first time after taking advantage of my parent’s liquor cabinet? An intimate summer twilight shower between two close friends? Or should I be the teenage nanny watching over you full time while your parents are on vacation for the summer? They thought I was a little too young for the job but I came with excellent references and quite easily charmed your father into hiring me by using some really special talents of mine that I would love to share with you.
So wont you make my day and be the sexy ice-cream man that teaches me rocket pops aren’t only good for eating…
I don’t want to know your name. Tonight, we are strangers. Don’t tell me who you are or what you do. Be that handsome man in the bar, on the train, at the party. Feel your gut clench when you catch sight of me for the first time. The slim-fitting vintage polka-dot dress that accentuates my hourglass figure and the sway of my full hips. Red lips and teasing, flirting smile.
Send me a drink from across the room. Lubricate me. I like your unapologetic and obvious appreciation of my sensuality. Come, join me, I beckon. But no names. Really, what do they matter? We are strangers in the night. We are meant to part. Our bodies know how to communicate without names, without words.
I’m already getting your messages, loud and clear, my cunt responding to the heat and energy between us. Watch me as I go, throwing one deliberate glance at you over my shoulder. You will follow in a moment or two, entranced by the hypnotic rhythm of my ass as I lead the way.
And then, in some hidden nook or forgotten hallway, we will steal our pleasure. One hand on my throat, one up my skirt. Panties ripped off. Zipper down. Cock inside wet warmth. Moans and gasps and fuck yes it is so good. Pinned to the wall, your hands digging into my ass cheeks, my legs coming up to wrap around you. Deep in me. Full.
Harder now, and faster. Raw, savage. Growls and yelps escaping from both our mouths. Random words almost incoherent.
“Give it to me!”
“So fucking good!”
No names. Just fucking. Strangers in the night, losing ourselves for a moment in this blissful, glorious eruption.
Hmmmm. Yes, I think I’m in the mood for some anonymous phone sex now…Lol!