Time for a reality check.

Now if you really want a leisurely stroking session with a powerful explosion at the end, I can fix you right up. If you want 3 minutes, I can take care of you, too.

It’s not like I run a surgical clinic that specializes in male-to-female sexual reassignment surgery. (Well, not in real life, but we surely can fantasize, now can’t we?) So what can I do for a person like that?

I am a fantasy magician. In my presence he became a woman, and I seduced her as another woman. I ran my fingers through her hair, smelling her perfume, and her smelling mine. I felt the warmth of her soft skin on my fingertips, against my cheek, on my lips. I tasted the sweetness of her skin, felt her nipple beginning to stiffen and grow between my lips as I began to suck on it, gently at first, then harder. I know that the nerve endings in the nipples go right to the pussy, so I knew she was getting wet. I could tell how much she was enjoying it from the sound of her breathing, from the little moans coming from her kissable red lips.

My fingers slid down inside her panties, parted her lips, and lightly brushed across her clit. Again she moaned, louder this time. I slid my fingers down to her pussy and slid my middle finger up inside, slippery with her juices. Once, twice, three times, then across to the clit again, rubbing gently at first. As she became more and more aroused, she could not help herself from writhing, from grinding her hips. I slid my finger across her clit faster, and she felt the excitement physically growing in it. Again I slid my hand down to her pussy, and this time put two fingers inside, more rougbly this time. I knew that while I was not touching her clit, the tension in it would be growing, yearning, reaching, begging for my touch.

So when I finally did go back once more, she was ready to explode almost immediately. Such pleasure she had never imagined experiencing with another woman. A slow moan parted from her lips, growing louder as her whole body stiffened and arched. Louder she moaned, then finally a scream that tapered off to a sigh.

I am a woman, I know what a woman’s body wants and needs, and I knew just what she needed at that moment.

What do you need? Call me!

There’s not a male who could withstand such a procedure. It is excellent for taking away the distraction of fluids built up in the sex organs, which is, after all, the bane of a male’s existence.

Call now, and we will hook you right up for your treatment!

Yes, they think with the small brain, their little lizard brain.

I’ll tell you what he needs. What he needs is a good cock cage to help him focus on what’s important: earning money for the betterment of his mistress.

I have the feeling that everyone he knows is going to find out about this.

There’s not much pretending or roleplay when most wankers call my controlled masturbation lines. We get right down to the bare bones…er bone of it.

It’s just his cock, his hand, and me telling him what to do with them. Indeed, it is a perfect match.

I have a regular who is looking for something a bit different. Back in the beginning he would fantasize that he was sitting on the floor, stroking his cock and looking up at me towering above him. He would see my nurse’s uniform of pvc or latex or lycra, with its very short skirt barely covering the tops of my white stockings, its thin fabric barely concealing the parts of my body that it did cover.

He could see my shapely legs in those stockings with seams, terminating downward in high heeled platform white “nurse” shoes.

Looking up at me, he could see up the hem of my skirt but not quite tell what it was he was seeing. The shadows left him wondering whether his eyes were playing tricks on him. Was he seeing a shadow? An illusion? Or was he merely letting his imagination take control? He would look up at my round, firm hips, my flat tummy, and my tiny waistline, wanting to encircle that waistline with his fingers, his hands, his forearms, and pull me in tightly. He wanted to reach out and touch my legs, my breasts. Sitting on the floor as he was, he could only imagine and get more and more excited.

Looking up past my flat belly, the shiny fabric of the white uniform, to the swell of my breasts, which softly filled the bodice of the uniform almost to overflowing, stretching the fabric tightly to its limit. The nipples poked through, visible through the thin fabric, plastic, latex. But with the material stretched tightly across my bosom in that way, my face was not visible from his position on the floor. He was only able to catch a glimpse of the white nurse’s cap on the top of my head when I leaned over to look down at him. He would stare up at me as he desperately stroked his cock.

I am unappoachable in the fantasy, but he imagined my long red fingernails on his cock, teasing it, stroking it for him. He could smell my closeness, and the fantasy took over the call until the excitement became (naturally) more than he could bear.

Guys sitting on the floor, too weak in the knees to stand as they wank helplessly to my presence. Works for me.

Some guys want to become slaves, who have every detail of their lives directed by a Mistress. That’s a little hard to do over the telephone, but fantasy is doable.

After we got into it, this caller told me that he had previously had a Mistress who made him tease his cock to the edge for 30 minutes every day for two weeks before she finally let him cum. He found it an earthshaking bonding experience.

That’s not what we were attempting, but in the end he did have a satisfactory explosion.