One man, One Girl, One Dildo

The more I do, this more certain I’m getting that the majority of heterosexual males want to be humiliated and dominated – except they’re too afraid to tell their actual sexual partners.

It’s weird how I can get such an insight into the perversions of the male mind. In a way, I find it kind of sad that society tells men that they’re not allowed to be submissive. I wholeheartedly believe that role-switching is the way forward.

And speaking of that, I just had an hour long conversation with a man from North America (he wouldn’t specifically tell me which part, but did discuss the geography of the USA for a while. It’s your money, man.)

So, after enlightening me that people from Minnesota have a weirdly Canadian accent, he began to ask me how old I was and when I first had sex, how many sexual partners I’d had, etc. I answered truthfully because I find it easier than lying. Knowing me, I’d slip up.

In his delightfully American accent, he coyly admitted one of his fantasies: he wanted a woman to make him swallow his own splooge. Not too out there, right? He seemed to think it was. I reassured him softly, then coaxed him to continue. While he stuttered out his next fantasy, I took a bite of the bacon sandwich next to me, smothered in HP sauce.

Sorry Dad.

He asked me if I was into ass-play, which I’m not. But I’m not going to tell him that. I told him that I enjoyed it occasionally, to which he responded approvingly. Great. He’s going to want me to fuck him up the ass.

Minutes later, we were in the throes of moans and dildos – well, the dildo-ing was on his part. He requested that I google a ‘Maia Astral D3’ – spoiler alert, it’s a  big ol’ dildo.

Now, I can honestly say that hearing a man slide a dildo up his ass and wince in pain isn’t particularly up my alley, but like a trooper, I took the role of El Dominato and chuckled haughtily down the phone, informing him that he wasn’t allowed to stop until I said so.

At the end of the call, he was forced into a chastity cage (it’s a cage for the peen) and I was fucking him up the butt with a strap-on. At our grandest moment, the call was cut short because he ran out of credits.

He was a cool guy.




Just your friendly neighbourhood Cuck.

My first ever call was a man who had a Cuckolding fetish. For those of you who don’t know what that is, a Cuckold likes to watch their partner have sex, or rather be fucked by another person. Generally, the Cuckold is a male who likes to watch their partner, generally a female, have sex with another man. The Cuckold cannot participate in the activity – simply watch.

I’ve never had an interest in that fetish, but I’m being paid for it, so I can’t really complain. It was a nice thing to begin with really. Being his third-time calling experience, we nervously stuttered out our names as directed by the automated voice telling us to introduce ourselves to one another. I found out that he was a Canadian-Lebanese who had a thing for being submissive. For confidentiality reasons, I won’t release a name or age.

He asked me how old I was and where I was from, to which I replied 18 and England. He asked me for my name – so I gave him my alias. I’ve found that using an alias can provide a buffer between the fantasy and the reality, which you can take comfort in sometimes – particularly in a bad call.

One thing I also learnt was this – you can’t fake it. If you’re not in the call, they can tell. Ergo, you can’t wash the dishes as you moan down the phone. In this case, we were in his room while I was being bent over the desk by another man…and so on.

All in all, it was a positive first experience and lasted for just over 17 minutes. Making a tidy £15, I was happy with that. Normally it’d take me over 2 hours of work in my everyday retail job to make that amount – and yet I was making that in minutes.

And at least I could do it in my pyjamas.

You can’t be slut in Islam.

You can’t be a slut in Islam.

That’s right. Premarital sex is a sin, and those who partake in this sort of behaviour are heathens headed for the fiery depths of Islamic hell.

And yet, here I am at 18 – a call-girl raised Islamically. Bend me over that Qur’an, Allah.

I suppose I shouldn’t incite religious controversy at this point – you’ve heard about the thing in London, right?

But here I am. I’m an Islamic princess and I’m ready to piss you off. One sin at a time.