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Adult Phone Chat Lines Pro Domme Zuri Whipping This Faggot
Keep your mouth shut while I’m speaking, or I’ll find a much more painful way to plug it. You’ve been chirping in my ear for the last ten minutes, thinking your little opinions actually matter to me. This is my Adult Phone Chat Lines, and on this connection, there is only one voice that carries any weight… mine. You’re not here to be a “sassy student” today; you’re here to be a lesson in discipline, and frankly, you’re failing the introductory course.
I can hear your breath hitching every time I lower my voice, you pathetic little worm. You think because you’re hiding behind a phone screen that you’re safe from my reach? You’re mistaken. My authority travels through these wires and wraps around your neck like a leash. I told you to stay still, yet I can hear you shifting, squirming, and trying to find some clever comeback to prove you’re special.
You aren’t special. You’re just another faggot who doesn’t know when to stop digging his own grave. Since you can’t seem to control that tongue of yours, I’m reaching for something that will do it for you. Do you hear that? That rhythmic, heavy thud against my leather boot? That’s my bullwhip. It’s been waiting for a loudmouth just like you.
I’m uncoiling it slowly, the leather creaking in the silence you should have maintained from the start. You wanted my attention so badly, didn’t you? Well, you’ve finally got it, and I promise you’re going to regret every single word that led us here. Close your eyes and imagine the tip of that lash hovering just inches from your skin.
One flick of my wrist and I’ll turn that bratty attitude into a chorus of whimpers. I’m going to whip this faggot until he remembers his place… which is face down, silent, and shaking. Every crack of the whip is a reminder that your defiance is a joke.
I don’t want to hear another “but” or “maybe.” I want to hear the sound of leather meeting flesh. I want to hear you gasping for air as I strip away that ego layer by painful layer. This isn’t a discussion; it’s a transformation. By the time I’m finished with you, you won’t have the breath left to be sassy.
You’ll be too busy focused on the sting I’ve left behind. You’re my student, and the lesson today is simple: silence is a privilege you haven’t earned. Now, stay perfectly still and prepare yourself. The mistress is ready to play, and she doesn’t play nice.
Taboo Phone Chat Starts Right Here Now with Zuri Pegging You
I heard the door click shut. I know she’s gone… wheels up, heading to some mindless business conference, leaving you all alone in that big, quiet house with nothing but your mounting desperation. You’ve been counting down the minutes until you could finally reach for your device and summon me. Taboo Phone Chat is the only way you can truly express the pathetic, hungry little secret you hide from her every single day.
Stop trembling and look at me. I’m standing in your foyer now, dripping in black and red latex that sounds like a warning every time I move. You invited me here because you’re tired of playing the “provider” and the “husband.” You want to be a toy. You want to be used. And more than anything, you want to feel what it’s like when I take over the one part of you that you’ve kept locked away.
Go to the bedroom. Not your side… hers. Strip. I want you face down on those expensive sheets she picked out, smelling her perfume while you feel my boot pressing into the small of your back. I’ve brought my favorite harness, the one with the heavy leather straps that smell like dominance. You can hear the mechanical click as I lock the attachment into place.
It’s thick, uncompromising, and exactly what you’ve been dreaming about while you pretended to listen to her talk about quarterly reports. I don’t care if you’re nervous. In fact, I prefer it. I want to feel your heart racing against the mattress as I lube you up with a cold, clinical efficiency. You aren’t a man right now; you’re just an opening waiting to be filled by my authority.
When I push the head of it against you, I want to hear that pathetic little gasp. Don’t hold it in. Let me hear how much you’ve missed this. As I drive myself into you, I’m going to lean down and whisper in your ear. I’ll remind you exactly whose house this is, and exactly who is in control of your pleasure… and your pain… while she’s miles away.
I’m going to stretch you, claim you, and leave a mark on your soul that you’ll have to hide behind a suit and a smile when she comes home. You’re addicted to this feeling, aren’t you? The way I take what I want. The way you realize you’d give up everything just for one more inch of me. Stay right there, vulnerable and full. You’re mine now.
Forced Sissy Training Zuri Breaks Faggots Down Completely
Look at you, standing there in your custom-tailored suit, thinking your bank account makes you a man in my presence. You’ve spent your whole life barking orders in boardrooms, but the moment you stepped through my door, your status became as flimsy as the place I’m about to put you in. This Forced Sissy Training is exactly what an arrogant, wealthy elitist like you needs to finally understand your true place at my feet.
I might be a petite, tiny thing, but I have enough power in my pinky finger to break your fragile ego into a million glittering pieces. I want you to feel the weight of my gaze as I look up at you, mocking the very masculinity you’ve tried so hard to protect. It’s adorable how you think your money can buy respect here; in my world, your only currency is your absolute obedience.
Get on your knees and start unbuttoning that expensive shirt, darling. I want to see those broad shoulders slump as I whisper exactly how I’m going to turn you inside out. You aren’t a CEO anymore; you’re just my newest project, a high-end toy that needs to be properly calibrated to serve.
As I circle you, I can smell the expensive cologne and the even stronger scent of your desperation. You’ve been craving this, haven’t you? You’ve been dying for a woman half your size to strip away the mask of the “great man” and reveal the shivering, submissive mess underneath. I’m going to make you trade that silk tie for a choker, and those leather oxfords for something much more humiliating.
By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember how to stand up straight… you’ll be too used to crawling. My training is thorough, and I don’t accept anything less than total surrender. I’m going to push you until those “elite” sensibilities are completely shattered, replaced by a frantic need to please me.
I want to hear your voice crack as you admit how much you love being reduced to nothing. It’s so addictive, isn’t it? The way the power shifts when I put my hand on your neck and remind you that I own every thought in your head.
Now take this dick up your asshole, while emptying your bank accounts with your pride being completely demolished. You’ll be my perfectly trained, hyper-feminized little secret, begging for the chance to come back and be broken all over again. Now, be a good little faggot and show me just how much you’re willing to sacrifice to stay in my favor.
Sissy Girl Training Starts with Zuri Grabbing Your Attention
I can hear your breath hitch the moment I pick up, can’t I? You’ve been pacing the floor, waiting for the house to go silent, waiting for the world to stop demanding you be a “man” so you can finally just be mine. Sissy Girl Training starts with me grabbing your attention and never letting go, and darling, you have my full, undivided focus right now.
You’re one of my favorite callers for a reason. I love the way your voice drops to that delicious, conspiratorial whisper when you tell me your wife is finally out of town on a business trip. I can almost see you standing there, surrounded by the quiet of an empty house, finally feeling safe enough to open those dresser drawers that aren’t yours.
“Zuri,” you whispered, “I’m wearing her silk slip right now. And the lace heels.”
I love how honest you are with me. You told me about the rush of adrenaline as you slide into those forbidden fabrics, the way the silk feels against skin that was never meant to be so soft. But this time, I wanted to push you further. I didn’t want you hiding in a dark bedroom; I wanted you to see the magic of a life lived out loud. That’s why I told you to go to that drag queen show.
“How was it?” I asked, leaning back, imagining your flushed face.
You described the club… the scent of hairspray and expensive perfume, the thumping bass that made your heart race under your button-down shirt. You told me how you sat in the back, watching those goddesses under the spotlight with wide eyes. You weren’t just watching a show; you were looking at a mirror of what’s possible when you stop apologizing for your desires.
You saw the glitter, the towering wigs, and the way they commanded the room with a flick of a fan. You told me that for the first time, you didn’t feel like a “man in a dress”… you felt like a girl who just hadn’t found her spotlight yet. I could hear the wonder in your voice as you described the lead queen catching your eye and blowing you a kiss. You felt seen, didn’t you?
I’m so proud of you for stepping out of the shadows. Dressing up in secret is a start, but feeling that spark of sisterhood in a room full of joy? That’s where the real transformation begins. Now, tell me more about that night. Don’t leave out a single detail… I want to know exactly how it felt when you realized you belong in our world.
Phone Dominatrix Zuri Whips The Powerless Faggots All Night
I’m standing here in black latex that clings to every curve, red latex boots planted firmly on the floor. The whip is already in my hand. You hear it before you hear me. I don’t need to explain myself. You’re here to listen.
Phone Dominatrix isn’t a fantasy tonight, it’s a position of control, and I’m wearing it comfortably. My grip tightens around the handle as I look you over, slow and deliberate, making you wait for permission to breathe properly. Hands down. Eyes forward. Don’t speak unless I tell you to.
I lift the whip slightly, letting it rest against my thigh. That’s your warning. You straighten immediately. Good. Obedience looks better on you than confidence ever did.
I give instructions clearly, one at a time, and I expect them to follow the first time I say them. Knees where I want them. Back straight. No fidgeting. I pace in front of you, boots clicking, latex creasing as I move. Every sound reminds you who’s in charge here.
Then you slip. A comment you weren’t invited to make. A tone you didn’t earn. I stop walking and turn slowly. The whip taps once against my palm. Now you really have my attention. “Come Again Sissy Boy? Did I hear you raising your Voice?! I want you to give me 50 pushups as I whip your back while you count every number out loud you hear me?” I say to the rude one. “My apologies, it won’t happen again” He says as he begins to start his pushup routine.
I don’t raise my voice. I don’t have to. I step closer, close enough that you feel the heat coming off me, and I tell you exactly how this is going to go. You don’t get opinions. You get instructions. If you want to stay here, you earn it with silence and obedience.
The whip cracks the air, sharp and final. You flinch, corrected without being touched. That’s all it takes. Your posture fixes itself instantly. Apology accepted… because it’s shown, not spoken.
The rest of the session runs smoothly after that. Everyone follows. Everyone listens. I reward compliance with approval, a slow nod, a quiet “good” that hits harder than punishment ever could. You crave that more than anything.
I finish exactly where I started, whip in hand, boots steady, latex flawless. You’re calm now. Focused. Properly trained for the night. When I tell you you’re done, you don’t rush. You wait.
That’s obedience. And that’s how I like it.
Sissy Phone Zuri Shoves Her Dildo Up Inside of Billy His Bum
I like to keep my voice soft, but my rules firm, and Billy learns that fast the moment he becomes my newest student. He’s nervous, excited, and trying so hard to be good for me, which I find adorable. Sissy Phone slips naturally into my words as I explain that I decide the pace, the lessons, and exactly how far his imagination wanders tonight. Billy listens closely, hanging on every syllable, because pleasing me already matters to him.
I tell him to breathe, to slow down, to stop rushing ahead of himself like he always does. Sweet boys like Billy need structure, and I love giving it. I remind him that training isn’t about being wild, it’s about focus, obedience, and learning how to feel comfortable wanting what he wants. He giggles, embarrassed but eager, and I smile because that reaction tells me everything.
I guide him gently, describing sensations without rushing, letting anticipation do the work. Billy doesn’t need graphic details, he needs permission, encouragement, and my approval. I praise him when he listens well, correct him when he gets distracted, and tease him when he tries to pretend he isn’t enjoying every second. My tone stays calm, bossy, and warm, wrapping around him like reassurance.
As his trainer, I explain that toys are tools, not shortcuts. They help him understand his body, his reactions, and his confidence. Billy admits he likes that part, likes feeling guided instead of judged. Especially when I slide my favorite dildo up his ass, it makes his day complete. I tell him that’s why he’s here with me, because I see potential in him that he’s still learning to see himself. He relaxes more with every word, using the slippery lube he loves so much.
I tease him about how flustered he gets, about how his thoughts wander even when he tries to behave. He apologizes, and I laugh softly, telling him there’s nothing wrong with wanting guidance. That’s what students are for. I remind him that his job is to listen, trust, and follow, and my job is to make sure he feels safe while he does.
As he climaxes, Billy sounds calmer, steadier, proud of himself. I tell him he did well, that training is a process, and that I’ll be here for the next lesson when he’s ready. He thanks me shyly, and I can hear the smile in his voice. I hang up on him knowing he learned exactly what he needed tonight, and I enjoyed teaching him every step of the way.
Sissy Training Audio with Zuri Letting You Stroke Boldly Now
I like it when you show up, all eager and a little twitchy. The moment you’re paying attention, I can feel it… the little shivers, the nervous energy, the way you hang on my every word. Sissy Training Audio isn’t just about following instructions; it’s about feeling me, letting me guide you, teasing every part of your mind.
You know you want it, and I know it too. I can hear it in your breathing, see it in the way your focus sharpens when I speak. Every suggestion, every command, every sly laugh is meant to draw you in, to make you ache, to keep you on edge. I don’t rush, I don’t push too hard… I let the tension build, layer by layer, until you’re wrapped completely around me.
I play with your mind a little, watching how you react. You’re trying to stay composed, but I see it… the little flickers of excitement, the tightening, the flush that spreads without warning. I grin because I know exactly what you’re thinking. You want to obey me, to follow every move I make, to get lost in this game I’ve set up.
Sometimes I tease you with a look while you stroke your cock to the sound of my wet yummy pussy, a tilt of my head, or the soft lilt of my sexy voice. I don’t even have to touch you… just my presence, my control, my playful command is enough to make your pulse race. And when I lean in, whispering something sly, you feel it deep inside: the thrill of knowing you’re mine to guide, mine to push, mine to tease.
The fun comes from the unpredictability, from the way I twist the energy. I let you anticipate, I let you wonder, I let you lose control in all the right ways. You’re aware, but helpless in the best way possible. And I watch, grinning, as you fall perfectly into the rhythm I set, letting me lead, letting me dominate, letting me shape every moment.
You finally explode everywhere as you’re buzzing, aware that every thought has been under my command. You’ve felt the control, the playfulness, the thrill, and you’re craving more. And I know that when you think about it later, when you remember my voice, my laughter, and the thrill you get from it, you’ll be wishing for the next round. Till next time you fucking faggot.
Sissy Maid Training Zuri Sweetly Commands Total Obedience
I don’t ease anyone into my presence; the moment I step into the room in my crisp maid uniform, authority settles like perfume. Sissy Maid Training begins the second my heels click against the floor, and every pair of eyes learns exactly where they belong… on me, awaiting instruction.
I smooth my apron, chin lifted, smile soft but unyielding. I’m very sweet but with rules. I am patient with the consequences. I tell them to line up, hands behind backs, posture corrected with a glance alone. My voice is calm, controlled, and impossible to ignore. They don’t serve because they’re forced; they serve because I expect it, and expectation is powerful.
I assign tasks with precision. Floors polished until they reflect my approval. Tea prepared exactly how I like it, not how they think I might. When someone hesitates, I tilt my head and remind them that obedience is learned through attention. I praise generously when it’s earned, my approval warm and addictive. When it’s not, silence does the work for me.
Every command is deliberate. Kneel… not to debase, but to focus. Stand… because I decide when they’re ready. I correct posture, tone, and attitude, shaping them into something disciplined and devoted. They learn quickly that pleasing me isn’t about rushing; it’s about listening. I reward effort with softness in my voice, a smile that says they’re improving under my guidance.
I move through the room like I own it, because I do. Lace, heels, authority… all perfectly balanced. I don’t raise my voice. I don’t need to. Control lives in consistency, and I am nothing if not consistent. By the time I dismiss them, they’re calmer, quieter, and tuned to my expectations.
This is my space, my order, my rhythm. I am the maid who commands, the sweetness that trains, the dominance that feels safe and irresistible. When I remove my gloves at the end, they understand one thing clearly: obedience to me isn’t temporary… it’s learned, earned, and deeply satisfying.
I make them thank me before leaving, each voice steadier than when they arrived. I remind them that obedience is a skill, sharpened through repetition and trust, and that my sweetness is earned through effort. Tomorrow they will remember my standards without prompts, anticipating my needs, correcting themselves, choosing discipline. I straighten a collar, tap a chin up, and release them with a nod that feels like permission to breathe.
When the door closes, my authority lingers, a quiet hum of order they carry with them. I don’t chase devotion; I cultivate it. And when they return, polished and ready, they’ll know exactly why serving me feels natural, calming, and utterly correct. That certainty settles deep, guiding posture, tone, focus, and loyalty long after my lessons end.
Online Sissy Training with Zuri Asserting Authority of Power
I don’t ease into control… I establish it the moment you answer my call. Online Sissy Training under my authority begins with attention, posture, and respect, and you learn fast because hesitation has consequences.
“Sit still,” I tell one of my sissy boys, the one that’s wearing the pink panties, my voice low and exact. I can hear the shift on the other end, the quick breath as he obeys. I don’t need visuals to know when compliance lands; the tone changes, the rhythm steadies.
That’s when I speak again, slower. “You address me properly.”
“Yes, mistress Zuri,” he says, soft but certain, like he’s been waiting all day to get it right. Good. That’s the sound I reward.
I train through pressure, not chaos. Every instruction is deliberate. How you listen. How you respond. How you accept corrections without trying to explain yourself. I cut through excuses with silence, then a single command that leaves no room for interpretation. When you follow it cleanly, I let the pause linger so you feel the approval settle.
I remind him that obedience isn’t about weakness; it’s about precision. I tell him to breathe when I say breathe, to speak only when addressed, to hold focus even when his thoughts start to wander. He tries to rush once, eager to please. I stopped him immediately. “Not yet.” Control means waiting until I decide the timing.
My authority sharpens you. I correct posture with words. I enforce routines that train your mind before your body ever reacts. You learn to anticipate expectations, to check yourself before I have to. That’s progress, and I don’t hand it out freely.
He asks if he’s doing well. I don’t answer right away as I forcefully peg him from behind as he moans loudly like a little bitch. Power lives in restraint. When I finally speak, it’s calm, confident, and final. “You’re learning because you’re listening.”
That’s the exchange… command, compliance, adjustment. No confusion. No bargaining. Just structure you didn’t know you were missing until I claimed it. When the call ends, you’re steadier, quieter, and fully aware of who set the rules.
Authority doesn’t need to announce itself. It’s felt. The more commands I give you, the better off you’ll be, and more prepared for the real world. This training will keep you addicted to my structure. And when you train with me, you feel it every time you say my name.
Humiliation Phone Sex with Zuri Breaking You Completely Down
I sit back in my chair, phone in hand, smirking at how eager they are to please me. They don’t even realize how far I can push them, how much I can make them squirm just with my voice. Humiliation Phone Sex… that’s what I’d call this, but really, it’s about control, about breaking their perfect little egos down one command at a time.
“Do you think money buys you respect?” I snap, letting the silence hang for a beat. I hear them shift, hear the catch in their breath, and I grin wider. “I don’t care about your accounts, your yachts, or your fancy cars. You exist to listen to me, to follow me, and right now, you’re nothing without my approval.”
Their desperation is delicious. I tell them to strip slowly, every finger, every toe, like I can see them even over the line. I make them confess, out loud, how pathetic they feel under my gaze, how they want my attention, my control. And they obey. Every. Single. Word.
I tease them relentlessly, letting them imagine what’s coming next, pulling them tight with just my voice. I drag their egos through the dirt, laughing softly at how fast they crumble. “Tell me you’re worthless without me,” I demand, and I hear the shaky whisper, “Yes… I’m worthless…” My smile stretches, satisfied.
They beg without shame now, eager for more, and I push them even further. Instructions, tasks, little games of obedience…. I make them grovel verbally, trace their bodies with words, and shiver at every command I give. They’re powerful men in the world, sure, but with me? They’re mine to toy with, mine to break down and rebuild however I want.
By the time I finally let them rest, I hear the ragged breaths, the trembling, the quiet admissions of how completely I own them tonight. I hang up, smirking, knowing I’ve left them desperate, flushed, and utterly undone. Power tastes this sweet every time, and I can’t wait to do it again.
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