Veronica Volt's Blog

He called my "Talk Nasty to a Bad Bitch" line.

I asked him his name. B-- [redacted for privacy], he said. I could hear him shuddering on the other side. We had never spoken before, but I was curling my toes in the anticipation. It's been a long time since I took a call, so this tapped into a deep part of my psyche, my deviant sexuality that had been locked away.

I asked him what he liked. He went on to say that he likes pegging, he likes wax, hot wax (he kept bringing it up, which raised my eyebrow -- not everyday you meet someone so eager for that type of play), obeying a hot dominant woman, stirrups (the pinwheel utensil for sensory delight, running its spikes, one by one at whatever pace the user desires, up and down and every which way on a sub/slave), showers (golden ... so far), plain ole body worship, NO MEN (he was very clear about that).

He already had a prostate toy inside of him. I asked him if it was wrapped around his balls. No, he said, disappointed. That's fine, I said, I like ass play, myself. Is it heavy? Yes, he said, happy. I love that, I said.

I asked him what he was wearing. Nothing, he whispered. I was delighted, giggling at how ready he was. Perfect. No need to waste time taking off clothes. I asked him if he had oil. No, he said, and I told him to get some. Throughout this entire five minutes so far, every other moment he would ask about Mistress Veronica's body. I peppered in the details: 5'7" (171 cm), hairy pussy with a long labia, slim build, tits that were still able to slap someone in the face.

You ever get tit-slapped, I asked. Yes, he sighed at the memory. I laughed. Wonderful, I said. I wish I could be able to touch him; he had briefly told me his real life encounters with IRL Mistresses and Dominas, the crosses he had been chained to, and how he had his legs up and exposed to be fucked.

You are a dirty boy, I said. How big is your cock? 7 1/2 inches, he said, with a good girth.

I moaned. I asked him if he had the oil. Yes, Mistress, he said. Good, put some on your nipples, not a lot, just enough to get it lubricated, and some on your dick.

Yes, Mistress, he said.

Rub your left nipple, and pull on it. Take your finger and rub a circle around your areola. Now counter clockwise. Pinch it. --- I said. He was moaning quietly.

I made him pinch his cockhead and called him a little hungry bitch. You are leaking, I said. All wet. Oil up your balls. Scratch your balls, dig your nails into your scrotum. Tap your balls so I can hear the slapping.

I told him I would peg him, stick my big fat dildo up his ass. Lay him on his back and grab his dickhead and press my thumb into the hole. I had a lot of different sized dildos, and described them to him while I would pound his hole, put my entire weight on it, and fold him in half while I fucked his prostate and milked him.

He begged to cum. I egged him on some more, until he sounded like he was about to cry, and then let him cum.

I just had a call with "crushfan" who always simply refers to himself with a smile, "C----" (name redacted for privacy). C has boy energy, very simply put. Always complimentary, always concerned with my own happiness, and he has straightforward desires: crushing bugs, fish, and sometimes pinkies (tiny baby mice who are otherwise designated as snake/reptile 'live' food). He does not crush; his Femme Domme does the crushing.

I have not crushed in a long, long, long time, and only with him - it is not something I can do without his enthusiasm and support. He seems to think highly of my skill, although it was one I honed under his tutelage.

Crushing is not for the faint of heart, and there is an ethical limit to it. One could argue that crushing itself is unethical, especially to a living being. I did once try to save a pinky, but it passed shortly after - this is their fate: they were bred to die, in whatever manner, because they were only meant to be a sacrifice, whether as food or otherwise.

And crushing is technically illegal, although it is a gray area of which crushing is tolerated for what type of being. It is not something I advertise for, nor do I seek anyone to bring me that type of "play". It is strictly in the realm of sadism that was only tolerated by me because of C's happiness.

He connects crushing with an Amazonian fascination of "large women" - by pretending the bugs, the fish, and even the pinkies, are small, inferior men - like him. A long time ago, I had another Tumblr blog when I was much more active in the D/s scene, I wrote about crushing in more technical and analytical terms because I was fascinated that this was a genuine desire. And, yes, it is a historic and documented desire within BDSM.

It isn't for everyone, like I've stated before, but it can be handled with the right mindset, as long as you have boundaries you can listen to. I think I would prefer to do it to non-living beings, and even more so, with non-biological objects, like small dolls or miniatures that look like "tiny men".

Tune in for more stuff.