Sabrina in Stockings smartass switch sex worker

On Yahoo between phone & cam calls, and I get an IM from one of yesterday’s orgasm permission line callers:

Sabrina Morgan: Am I right in guessing that this is XX from the other day? The ID is similar
caller n: Yep.
caller n: I may have try your cam line tonight.
Sabrina Morgan: Oh, does that mean I get to hear you beg so sweetly again tonight? Yum.
caller n: It might.
caller n: I’m glad you enjoyed it.
caller n: Actually, right now I think I’d be begging to pee, not cum.
Sabrina Morgan: ha! well, we all have needs… do what you must, I’ve got some emails to sort through

caller n: Wow, okay.
caller n: I didn’t expect to get permission.

(I do orgasm control and denial, I don’t mess with anything involving the bladder, but this made me laugh.)

When was the last time you heard a phone sex operator have a real orgasm?

If you’re caller j, then the answer might be a few minutes ago. Twice over.

He called my Orgasm Ignore Line. It works like this: I put the phone down and do whatever I want. To myself. You listen in and count yourself lucky. It might take five minutes or it might take hours, depends on my mood and how revved up I am.

I was actually about to come when he called. I had a bad case of the morning hornies and was looking at some porn; the phone rang right as I was closing my eyes for the moment of truth. I grabbed the phone reflexively which is probably a good thing… it would have been tempting to let it go and finish but I was operating on instinct.

He let me know he knew the scoop (hooray for a stroker that reads the listing text) so I wasted no time in getting back to it. (No ulterior motives there. Really.) I’ll tease and deny everyone but myself. My denial was in waiting almost two whole weeks to be choked, spanked, and fucked by the man with the shiny black revolver. It was worth the wait (every minute of it!) but I’m an addict and all I crave is more more more.

This was the best I could do:

Phone beside me on my bed, about eight inches away from my face. The faint sound of his breathing. Nothing more. Face half-buried in my blankets, red hair everywhere. Rustling of clothing, of sheets… breathing back to ragged as my hand finds my slick wet lips, parts them, then slides up to my clit. I ride the waves and grind against my palm. The phone flickers in and out of my periphery of vision. It’s there, a blue glowing audience of one. A quiet presence that will not interfere - only witness. A moment later it’s not there to me. He’s not there to me, but somewhere there’s a man with his hand around his cock, listening for that change in my breathing. Soft low moans wriggle out of my body and break into screams.

I’ve been up for so long. And after last night… I’m floating, I honestly am. There’s mist outside and mist in my head. My whole body’s feeling like fog settling into the earth, just soaking in slow. Absorbing and being absorbed.

Now I’m with it and he just heard me come. I’m aware and smiling. If you know me, if you’ve called me, you know I smile when I’m feeling wicked so I don’t stop, oh no. I keep my hand cupped between my legs - and get more descriptive. He hears that I want more, that I’m going to come again. He hears my thumb brush my clit and hears me find it too sensitive. I’m going to try my ass instead.

There’s no way it’s going to take me long to come with my palm pressed against my clit and a finger in my ass still wet from my last orgasm. And he hears it. Every breath, every staccato moan, every word. Every choked-off scream and the bitten, imprinted knuckles it leaves.

“Do you ever come on calls?”

The tooth marks on the back of my hand say yes.

(Did he come? I have no idea. He hasn’t called back to beg permission to come yet.)

Unfortunately Niteflirt disconnected us before I could hit round three. Next time…

Orgasm Ignore Line

$1.99/min

I’ll be on webcam again tonight, probably from 10pm - 2am EST. You lucky bastard. Til then you can catch me on the phones (new Niteflirt callers get 3 free minutes):

Flirty Cocktease - Sensual Phone Domination

$1.99/min

Some of you have written to ask just what goes on in a TeaseCam session.

We’ll start by throwing your expectations out the window.

This is not about me stripping down as quickly as possible, shoving the largest available toy into my twat, and oohing and aahing as you masturbate furiously to a grainy, discolored cam feed.

This is not about me fake-baking, squeezing into an itty bitty rhinestone thong and a pair of designer jeans, giggling and calling you the “loser loser loser” to my princess.

Kudos to the camgirls who can pull that off. I’m pale and I can’t stand wearing jeans - but I do love clothes, and taking my time getting into - and out of - them.

Also I am neither an 18 year old coed nor a MILF. I know I look ambiguous, and I have fun roleplaying either older or younger, but I’m 24. That out of the way - of course we can pretend otherwise. Because this is all about leaving something to the imagination.

In my world your orgasm is never guaranteed. My fun at your expense always is.

I love fetishes. I have them. A lot of them. This makes it very easy to understand how simple it is to use your fetish against you.

I understand how weak you feel when you see a perfectly wrinkled sole… a thick black satin garter strap snapped tight against a bare thigh… when you feel the faint silken rasp of nylon drawn over your skin. The textures. The smells. The ache of frustration… the sensuality of satin…

I look inward, into what my fetishes do to me, and outward, observing what they do to you. Only in this instance it’s very like a cat watching a mouse. Sometimes you can even imagine the tail twitching.

Fetishes are beautiful irrational turn-ons and that makes them such gratifying buttons to push.

You’d love for me to push your button, wouldn’t you? Over and over…

In a cam session, I tease and frustrate and manipulate you with the tools at my disposal: my face, my voice, my body, my wardrobe, and your weakness for my sweet sensual sadism.

That can mean verbal humiliation. That can mean CFNM, directed masturbation, roleplays. That can mean driving you crazy with my stocking covered legs and feet while I sweet-talk you out of your money (nylon fetish and financial domination). Or we can get into a good old-fashioned slow striptease. Emphasis on the tease. And the begging. (Yours.)

It’s not important how it happens. In the end I am going to make you squirm.

I enjoy hearing your session ideas or working something out on the fly. Don’t expect to see me totally naked. Do expect to see me smiling - and maybe hear me laughing a little at your expense.

I’ve got a cam appointment in a couple of hours… If you’ve been trying to catch me live on my webcam, look for me after midnight EST (aka early Monday morning). I’ll stick around for a while. For some strange reason, teasing and frustrating horny men only leaves me wanting more…

If you’re imagining wicked laughter here you’re dead on.

Tease and Denial/Lingerie Fetish Phone Sex with Cam

To a certain faithful blog reader who begged so sweetly for permission to come last night on the phone: I’ll send you a cam cap from tonight’s session to tide you over. Or possibly just tempt you into giving up control, inch by inch. I can be patient.

Just a quick heads up:

The TeaseCam is live tonight (Dec. 7th) from 1am-4:30am EST. That means I’ll be as available to you as I’m going to get.

I’ll update this post with a screencap just before I go live. Update: Screencap is now up! I’ll be extending my availability to 4:30am to make up for the late start. You can also watch my webcam availability indicator below, if you’re into that.

If you just can’t possibly make it… well, why not reserve me in advance? It is the holiday season after all… This is the perfect time to treat yourself to some expert cockteasing for those aching blue balls. Think of the intense sexual frustration you’ll receive as my personal heartfelt gift to you. And I’ll wrap it so prettily in sheer stockings and garters…

I was up late last night putting the finishing touches on a custom downblouse/upskirt tease photo set. (Another hard night at work for yours truly.)

Here’s a sneak peek at the results. The rest are for his eyes only. Exclusivity has its benefits…

He requested that I start out in a short skirt and a lowcut or button-front shirt, taking my panties off and leaving the skirt on for a flash of my bare ass and pussy… He loves silky fullback panties as much as I do, and I had a pair of baby pink-and-sheer striped fullback panties that flaunt my round ass nicely.

I wore my black leather high heel mary janes and a soft fuzzy black zip-up sweater (I like to think of it as “easy access”). I let the matching feminine pink bra stay on for a while, unzipping my sweater and leaning forward enough to let the upper edge of my bra peek out beneath my cleavage.

The bra came off before the sweater did. I played it coy, unzipping my sweater nearly to my waist and then covering my bare breasts with my arms before letting him glimpse one hard pink nipple. The soft fabric of the sweater rubbing against my nipples felt delicious and sensual… I had no problem getting in the mood for this shoot.

My tease callers know I like to tease and deny for a long time before I consider granting permission to come—and for those that hold out long enough, that beg desperately enough, that let me hear the ache in their voices that gives me conviction that they’re nearly over the edge with want—I’ll grant that permission, and throw in something else he wasn’t expecting. I always stop short of what they want most of all but sometimes throwing a thoroughly blue-balled guy an extra crumb of what he craves is all it takes to keep him coming back for more cockteasing “abuse.”

For this sweet repeat client, I threw in that crumb, and pushed this set from teasing to “Did I just see—?”

Yes. Yes, he did.

And did it work?

His response contained more all-caps words and exclamation points than I’ve seen since avoiding Myspace. This isn’t his usual way of writing. And he wants to see me on cam—soon.

So: Yes.

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday!

Oh, by the way, I’m on cam tonight.

Tease and denial, a little phone domme, a little webcam lingerie show… if you’re interested, you know where to find me.

I’ll have one night a week as a scheduled live TeaseCam night. Outside of that designated time, my cam is by appointment only - but appointments are always welcome.

For now I’m doing outfit requests and fetish shows by appointment; I expect to open that up after the TeaseCam’s been live on Niteflirt for a while.

Tonight I’ve got on a short black satin kimono-style robe and a coral lace bra and panty set. The panties are “booty short” style for all you ass men out there.

Care to take a peek?

(New callers to Niteflirt get 3 free minutes. Let me know you’re from the blog, and you’ll get something special from me directly as well.)

The lovely and wicked Princess Mindy has started a new small penis humiliation blog: RateMyPinDick.com.  Of course, I couldn’t resist getting in on all the fun and I’ve become one of the newest guest bloggers.

I’d just gotten off the phone with one of my orgasm permission line callers and - after making him pay for my permission to squirt - I just had to blog about it.

I’m feeling evil tonight boys… Who’s next?

I’ve got my toes buried in the sand at Cape Cod. The pedicure’s fresh (a recent birthday present from a thoughtful submissive). I’m stretched out absorbing the sun and sky, and taking calls on Niteflirt…

My cell rings, and when the polite femmebot voice on the other line says just the words I want to hear, I smile:

“You’ve received a call for your listing in Women > Fantasy > Other. The rate for this call will be 2.99 per minute.”

It’s my orgasm control line - no, let’s be honest; my orgasm denial line. I’ll make this line available often even when I’m not taking calls because this isn’t work, this is fun. It cuts right to the chase: he needs to come, he’s on the edge, and what happens next is completely in my hands.

“Hel-lo, this is Sabrina…” I can’t keep the smile out of my voice. Sometimes I’ll laugh to myself, and they’ll ask me why I’m laughing.

This is where I get my kicks. Silly boy.

He’s already on edge. It’s in the tension behind his words, the breaths, the pauses. On edge, his voice slips into a different register. His throat’s tighter. His pacing is staccato –

That’s what I love to listen for; that shift when they need it badly. I like to hear the urgency. That’s why I’ll draw them out, wait until they have to come.

I like to hear them beg.

No - I insist it of them. The hesitant ones aren’t ready to come yet. They don’t need it badly enough. The desperate ones, if they beg pretty, sometimes I’ll let earn an orgasm.

If they want me to make them stroke, I let them stroke. Eventually. If they want me to make them earn each stroke I’ll make them stroke til they need me to let them stop. Denial within denial - why not? A pleasure prolonged is a pleasure enhanced. A pleasure forced and twisted is a deviant’s treat I’m serving up on the beach, in semipublic…

And he’s needing to stop soon, or come. And I remind him that he’d better not come without my permission. He won’t? Good… Even though he needs to so badly? That’s right. That’s exactly right.

“So how badly do you need to come? You’d better convince me, if you want me to let you come.” I like to hold out hope. I might let him come - if he earns it, if he’s good, if he’s lucky. Sometimes I do let them come, and they thank me. Sometimes I don’t and they thank me and curse me together, both equally heartfelt.

He’s begging for me, and it’s good - I’m riding that high - but not good enough.

I push my ridiculous glamourpuss sunglasses down over my eyes.

“No.” I’m laughing, and my friends are looking over at me; they’ll figure out what’s going on in a minute. “I just don’t think you want to come that badly.” (And I hear him moaning oh please Mistress I need it so badly, please, can’t I just come for you…)

“You know, I’m getting more out of it this way than if you actually came.” Brutal honesty. “Your begging amuses me… whereas if you come, it’s really just a sticky mess, over in a few seconds. And doesn’t it feel good to stroke? Why would you want to stop just so you can be allowed to come?”

I love the semi-logic. He’s still trying to convince me, he know it’s too late. He just wants to keep stroking a few more seconds. He’s waiting for my final word.

“No. ”

“Take your hands off my cock; you’re not allowed to come today.”

I’m laughing, and he’s saying thank you, Mistress, and fighting his way back from the edge so he doesn’t disobey and come without my permission. I tell him to try his luck again next time. I might be in a more generous mood.

Two very blue balls in ten minutes and I keep telling myself I’m on vacation. From what exactly?

We head out for drinks and seafood. I keep the phone on.

(I’ve been traveling off and on throughout the summer. If you’d like to catch me, add my orgasm permission line to your favorites on your Niteflirt account, or dial 1-800-TO-FLIRT, extension 01781456. Or send me an email - don’t be a stranger. It’s sabrinamorgan at gmail dot com, of course.)

I’m back from my trip out of town. Did you miss me last weekend?

Sorry… I was busy getting my tease on. You guys make it too easy sometimes and I just can’t resist taking full advantage. A little flirting and men become physically, mentally, and financially weak.

Nowhere was this more evident than at the strip club. The South is known for ladies with big smiles and long tanned legs… women who know how to work a man. The real show wasn’t the gyration on the couches but in the subtleties: the blonde with the knee-high black boots who moved like a snake, the vixen who dragged her chestnut hair over Mr. Aging Jock’s torso, knelt, and smiled up at him so sweetly before taking his money. Hands at his sides - no touching. These men were paying for nothing but a well-executed tease, knowing they wouldn’t be allowed to place their hands on one inch of tanned skin, knowing the only satisfaction they’d get would be at their own hands, hours later, thinking back on the way she’d moved as she straddled his thighs.

It was inspiring.

I’ve talked about strip clubs before with one of my favorite callers and he was quick to admit that the highlight of his experience was the dynamic of the tease, that undercurrent of control. She had it; he didn’t. Money did not equal power, except in that he was surrendering both. He knew he wasn’t supposed to come; if he came it would probably be prematurely. And she would know, and laugh.

I’ll be back on the phones tonight. Lap dance anyone?