Fantasy or IRL? Depends on how good you are at encouraging me to give in to my depraved urges I suppose. I’m here to find an intelligent kinky Dom to form a friendship with while we explore each other’s fantasies. Please be between the ages of 30-50. Kindness goes a long way!

Quick list of kinks: training, CNC, fantasy coerced prostitution, orgasm denial/edging, beast, intox, domestic servitude, bondage, breeding, pet play, pain, humiliation, ddlg, TPE, hucow, pussy stretching, anal, etc.

Limits: bodily fluids other than cum, feederism, underage, incest, extreme bodily harm, snuff.

I enjoy writing, so please enjoy my imaginings of this actually happening.

I wait nervously for Your text in the parking lot of the truck stop watching a steady stream of mostly middle aged men file in and out of the convenience store. I didn’t want to be here, my brain said this was a terrible idea. My pussy had other ideas. Plus, I couldn’t let You down.

You made me feel so beautiful, submissive, sexy. It was addicting for a shy fat girl that tended to blend in to the background. I don’t know if it was my insecurities or daddy issues, but nothing made me wetter than pleasing You.

I startle as my phone chimes: “Spot 12, white cab, yellow logo on the door. Get in, lay on the bunk, and pull your skirt up and your tits out. Stay quiet unless directly addressed. $200 1 hour. Tell me when you’re done. Good girl.”

I take a deep breath, spotting the target truck across the lot. My heart pounded, my cheeks were already flushed with embarrassment. It was going to be a long walk past 11 other semis. I’d be so exposed in my short little dress to the leers of other men, knowing what I’m here to provide.

A warm body, a wet hole. The oldest profession in the world. Not what I had pictured for myself, but it got You hard and humiliated me enough to keep me in my place. The cash was just a nice bonus. Tangible proof that I’d do anything for You. To please You. I was just a toy after all.