Danger Girl Dating

Posted on March 1, 2024 by Lola Down

Danger Girl Dating App

In case you haven’t caught on by now, recreational drugs are not really part of Lo’s life. She much prefers a French Martini, a Negroni, or a simple flute of Champagne to any drugs. She claims that anything besides alcohol makes her anxious and feel “weird,” not in a good way. So the amount of marijuana chocolate she ingested was far in excess of anything she ever had before. Not to mention that Tara’s concoctions were highly concentrated and potent.

After Lo found out that she had inadvertently been drugged, she asked for a little time to herself. As she tells it, Mr. Biggs and Tara both left her in Tara’s bedroom. She took out her phone and called me, saying, “Daddy, I want more.”

I answered, “More what, Lo?”

She said that she wanted to go on a dating app and be in the dating scene again.

According to her, I said, “Lola, it’s a jungle out there.” I warned her that people hooking up on the dating sites are animals. But she was insistent. She said she wanted to discover new things and she had found an app called “Danger Girl Dating.” She downloaded it and created a profile, all while high as a kite.

Lo Left, Danger Girls center

Soon she was swiping left and swiping right, clicking ‘like’ and shooting heart emojis to men, women, and whomever. But something stopped her in her tracks.

She suddenly found herself in the app. I mean, in the app.

“Daddy,” she called to me, “I’ve been turned into a cartoon!”

Cartoon Lola

In the app, her cartoon avatar was named ‘Catnip.’

On her first ‘date’ she found herself dressed as a bride – I mean, if you call wearing a white veil, thigh-high white nylons, and long white gloves ‘dressed.’ She was leashed to a giant pig! She quickly ascertained that she was betrothed to the pig and everyone she knew was attending the wedding!

Lola getting married

There was no escaping because the leash to which she was attached to the pig was fastened around her neck with a steel collar.

Apparently, I was the officiating heresiarch and after I pronounced them hog and wife, Lola was mounted by the pink, pot-bellied, cloven beast and fucked before the reception party! The pig got Lo on her back and went to town. This pig was no Wilbur of Charlotte’s Web fame. No, the hog Lo found in this interweb was far too heavy for her and she felt like she was going to die under the weight.

Talented pig

Suddenly, all the people at the reception also turned to pigs! They were looking at Lola like they hadn’t mated in a year and she was, well, raw meat. Each one wanted a go with her. She was scared. She could hardly handle her ‘husband’ pig.

Lola missionary style

Each boar had his way with her and Lo wished she had swiped right on a horse, dog, or goat instead of a pig.

Fresh Meat

At one point, Lo opened her eyes and saw that Mr. Bigg was sitting in a chair, pud in hand, Tara and a host of party guests were around the bed as naked Lo was holding her phone in one hand and diddling her bean with the other.

What could these pigs want?

Lo got up off the bed and crawled around on all fours like a pig or dog, her head waist high with the guests. One of them called out, “What is that?” pointing at Lo’s bare bottom.

Tara approached Lo and said, “Um, looks like Mr. Biggs’ condom fell off inside you.”

Sure enough, there was a partially full condom dangling from Lo’s slit, hanging on like a hero of an action movie. Lo reached back and found the condom. She pulled it out of her twat and sniffed it. Suddenly she was transported back to the sty with the pigs where she crawled naked through the mud and slop.

Marry in haste, repent at leisure.

Fat Fetishizing

Posted on February 25, 2024 by Lola Down

Painting of Lola by Erics Figure Art

[Continued from Feedie for a Night]

It was the Saturday before Halloween. The night of the party. Lo had tried on, adjusted, removed, retried, readjusted the Princess Leia costume at least ten times. She tried manipulating a sash to go across her tum, but that didn’t work. Not only would it not stay up, it also disguised the costume to the extent that she just looked like a woman from 1001 Nights. She tried a cape that, if she felt she needed it, she could drape it around her. She thought that would be a good compromise and she tucked the cape into the collar of the costume. But it kept falling out. She tried using a binder clip to affix it, but that was uncomfortable. In the end she said, “Fine. Fuck it!”

“That’s what everyone will be saying to you at the party,” I reassured her, “Very fine. I’ll fuck it.”

“I’m not an it,” she reminded me.

“I know, but I get poetic license for the sake of a pun.”

“Whatever.”

She was in a grouchy mood because, no matter what she did, her round rolls of her tum were prominent. “It’s like I have three sets of tits,” she complained.

“What?” I asked.

“Here, here, and here,” she said, running her hands over her breasts and then her first roll round the middle of her tum and then her second roll just above her black triangle.

“Lo, but that’s what Mr. Biggs (and I, if I say so myself) find so fucking attractive about you!”

“Fat fetishizing.”

“Darling, if you weren’t fat, I’d fetishize on something else about you.”

“So you’re saying I’m fat!”

“You said it!”

“Grrrrrr.”

BBMPDG Lola

Lo’s phone rang. It was Mr. Biggs.

“I gotta run!” Lo said to me, darting towards the door.

“No kiss?”

She scuttled back in her brown, strappy heels to give me a peck on the cheek.

“I wish I could go with you,” I said.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” she said with a wink.

“You’ll have fun at your party,” she said.

As it turned out, I had been invited to a party down the street. Lo said that if the party she was going to with Mr. Biggs was a bust, then she’d join me. In order to keep with her costume theme, I had bought a Boba Fett outfit, just in case.

Lo was off. I heard the car pull away from the curb. For an account of the Hutt’s mistreatment of the Princess, I had to wait until later that night when Lo returned home. She never did make it to join me at my humdrum Halloween party.

A.I. of Lola and Leia with Darth Vader

It was past three in the morning when I heard the clickity-clop of my princess’s heels on the wooden floor in the hallway. She took her shoes off there and then silently slipped into the bedroom and into the master bath. She turned on the light and left the door slightly ajar. I saw her from the darkness of the bed as she brushed her teeth, still dressed in her costume. She then sat on the toilet, peed, and came to bed.

“Daddy, are you awake?”

I feigned sleep. I didn’t want her to think I was so eager.

“Daddy,” she whispered again, closer to my ear.

I grunted.

She reached for my cock under the covers.

“You’re hard,” she whispered with joy in her voice. She wanted to get laid, I could tell.

I grunted again.

“Stay asleep,” she coaxed, “roll on your back. Let me use your cock. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

I rolled on my back. She pulled my pj bottoms down. She lowered herself down on my erect shaft slowly. She was soaking wet. I slid in easy as could be.

She began bopping up and down, using her index and middle fingers of her right hand to rub circles around her clit. She was cumming within seconds. Her moans, groans, and prayers to God were not quiet. I opened my eyes. I saw she was still in her princess getup.

“Lola?” I said, as if startled from a dream.

“Shhh, Daddy, I’m almost done.”

“How was your night?” I asked. I didn’t want her to be done.

“It was good.”

“Good?” I asked. I was looking for something a bit more descriptive than “good.”

She was posting up-and-down on my cock, revving up for her second orgasm. Her front teeth were biting down on her lower lip.

“Tell me more,” I implored.

“Grab my tum,” she said.

I did. It was bouncing up and down and jiggling, just how I like it.

“Am I fat, Daddy?”

Trick question. Was she in the mood to be fat? Would saying yes ruin the mood? I rolled the dice.

“Yes.”

“Fuckable fat?”

“Yes.”

“Freaky fat?”

“Yes.”

She brought herself to an orgasm. She lifted her pussy up off of my rod to rain her cum down on me and then turn around, reverse cowgirl, and slip right back into the saddle. I noticed as she did so that she was clean shaven. When she left the house a few hours ago, she had a hairy bush.

She rode me as I watched her ass rise and fall with stronger and stronger strides down on my cock. It was as if she needed more, deeper, longer, harder, thicker, fatter.

I could hear her sloppy, wet pussy slapping down and splashing on my hips. She groaned and growled in rhythm with her own beat. The sound grew more insistent. She was reaching, striving for that second (or third?) orgasm, but not quite reaching it. She pulled forward and turned around on all fours.

“Get behind me!” she insisted, as if there was no time to lose. “Get in me and fuck me. Fuck me hard!”

I was on my knees pounding my pelvis into her, slamming her with every ounce of energy I had. Her head was bouncing forward into the headboard of the bed. She didn’t care. The new position wasn’t doing it for her. She pulled off of me. She got on her back and slid to the side of the bed with her legs in the air. The sheets and blankets were soaked by now.

I stood on the side of the bed and held her ankles as I entered her pussy.

“Grab my tits,” she said. “Pull.” I pulled her nipples.

“Grab my tum,” she said. “Slap it.” I did. I held it with my fingers like it was dough for kneading. I slapped it. I slapped her tits. She grabbed my right hand and moved it to her cheek. I knew what she wanted. I don’t like to do it. She slowly moved my hand in the motion of what she wanted me to do. I followed through. I slapped her, gently at first, across the face.

“Again!” she said.

I slapped her again.

“Harder!”

I slapped her harder.

I did this around ten times.

“Now my pussy,” she said.

I pulled out and slapped her pussy with my palm.

“Harder, faster.”

I gave her pussy about ten hard slaps.

She was frustrated. She pushed me away. With her legs in the air, she slapped her own pussy as if punishing it severely. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Until she was squirting all over the floor. She fell backwards and collapsed in the sopping wet bed. She passed out, leaving me standing over her, hard-up.

I walked away, went to the bathroom, washed up, dried off, and then walked to the living room couch where I went to sleep.

In the next installment – Leia and the Hutt

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Posted on February 14, 2024 by Lola Down

To all our loyal fans, avid readers, cumtributors, and Match Book Club members, we would like to wish you a very Happy Valentine’s Day!!!

We also have some big news coming soon, probably next week, so stay tuned!

xoxoxoxoxo,

Lola & HH

Lola’s Lips are Sealed

Posted on February 13, 2024 by Lola Down

“Lola,” called her sister as Lo was getting dressed, “no panties today.” Robie sat in the bed and watch Lo as she was reaching into her underwear draw. This request, or command, was not unusual for Robie to make. Lo looked at her sister and then moved on to pulling out socks from her top drawer. She chose white with a pattern of little pairs of red cherries. She went to her closet and pulled down a white and green dress. Her pigtails were already neatly tied with green bow ribbons.

“Come here,” said her sister.

Lo walked to the bed, carrying her clothes for the day.

Robie reached into the nightstand next to her side of the bed. She pulled out a handful of wooden clothespins. She kept a drawer full of them to spice up sex with her boyfriends and for personal use. But this time she told Lo to stand before her.

“Spread your legs.”

Lo spread.

Robie took one clothespin at a time in her right hand. With her left hand she squeezed Lo’s labia together, making the lips bulge, and then she applied the clothespin to the two tightly pressed lips together. She did this a total of six times, causing tears to form in Lo’s eyes. Between Lo’s legs a straight line of wooden clothespins hung down, compressing Lo’s vagina together. Not that Lo needed this at all, but this was Robie’s punishment for Lo’s indiscretion of yesterday when she unconsciously moved her index finger to her pussy and stroked her smooth slit while the three guys fucking Robie looked on with intense interest.

“You are to wear these all day at school. Only when you get home will you be allowed to remove them. No. You will come to me and beg me to remove them for you. If they fall off, you replace them. Immediately!”

“Yes, Robie,” said Lo obediently. The pain was excruciating, but it did not outstrip the secret enjoyment of pleasing her older sister.

Lo slipped into her dress and walked to the kitchen to eat breakfast. It hurt to walk. It hurt to sit. It hurt to stand up.

The pain between her legs while she rode the bus to school nearly made Lo pass out with every jarring bump.

At school she couldn’t concentrate at all. Her entire mental focus was directed between her legs. Occasionally, she dropped her right hand down below the desk and up between her legs and flitted her fingers across the tips of the clothespins, making them jiggle. She was praying that none of them slipped off in the middle of class.

And then it was gym period. There was absolutely no way she was going to go into the girls’ locker room, remove her dress and put on her tight, white shorts! Even if she could do that without everyone seeing her clothespins, there was no way she could easily conceal them under the shorts, let alone play volleyball or badminton or whatever the day’s activities were.

She went to the gym teacher and said she wasn’t feeling well. The gym teacher looked at her askance and sent her to the school nurse.

At the nurse’s office, she entered shyly and explained that she wasn’t up to playing in gym. The nurse went through a series of questions: Stomachache? Headache? Fever? To all of which, Lo responded, “No,” shaking her head and dangling her pigtails. The nurse took her temperature. Normal. The nurse asked her to have a seat and, when Lo sat extremely gingerly on the hard, plastic chair, the nurse asked if the problem was “down there,” pointing between Lo’s legs. Lo turned a bright red!

School Nurse

The nurse asked to lift up Lo’s dress. Lo didn’t know what to say. She acceded to the request. When the nurse saw the row of wooden clothespins pinching Lo’s pussy lips together, she gasped in horror! “What is this?! Who did this to you? Why are you wearing these?” she asked in rapid succession as she removed the clips.

“Lola, show me.”

Lo was speechless. She could not turn in her beloved sister. So she lied. She said her mother told her to wear them to school.

“Why ever would she do that?” asked the nurse, alarmed, but trying to sound soothing for Lo. The nurse reached into her drawer and pulled out some ointment. She put on her rubber gloves and applied the ointment to Lo’s nether region, gently rubbing the moist, cooling gel into Lo’s labia. Lo liked the feeling and liked the nurse.

Lo tried to speak, but she couldn’t. She just shrugged her shoulders and asked the nurse to keep rubbing in the ointment. “It feels good,” she said, totally unaware of how that sounded to the nurse.

The nurse stopped rubbing and told Lo to pull her dress back down, covering her triangle, as the nurse stepped out. Of course she called the principal. The administration of the school alerted the authorities. The Department of Children and Family Services was called and within days a full-fledged investigation was underway.

For years, Lo though that the reason her older sister was sent off to boarding school in Europe was because her father didn’t like Robie’s “slutty” behavior with the boys. She believed that Robie had been caught with a boy in the house. She suspected it might be that they feared for Robie in some way. But she didn’t know that it was because DCFS had discovered the source of Lo’s torment and the Department threatened to take Robie from the family and put her in foster care or a special psychiatric ward. There was literally no other place for her to go in America to be outside the reach of the authorities and so her parents, in a last-ditch effort to keep Robie in the family, sent her to boarding school abroad, leaving Lo alone and bereft of her sister until, well, you know the rest.

Lola worships her sister Robie

Interview with Author, Dominatrix, and F-Girl Emme Witt-Eden

Posted on February 2, 2024 by Lola Down

This week our good friend and talented writer, Emme Witt-Eden, a.k.a. “Mysterious Witt,” became a full-fledged author with the publication of her memoir: Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-Girl. (You can read our review here.)

She was generous enough to sit down with us for an interview about the book, writing, marriage, and of course, sex.

Promo for Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-Girl

L – Congrats on your new book, Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-Girl! And thank you for letting me (or us – me and my man, H.H.) read it ahead of time to write a review. We loved it! We each devoured it in about three days. When we got together to talk about it, we devoured each other. What a sexy ready. But it’s also so personal – I mean, it is a memoir after all. Since it is a memoir, as opposed to an autobiography, it only portrays a sliver of your life – from the time your marriage fell apart to your emerging as a self-aware, self-confident f-girl. Tell us how you’d characterize yourself in your marriage and before. I mean, in the memoir you say you “claimed” your sexuality, not “reclaimed it,” because you felt like you never actually had it to begin with, but what was your sexuality (real and fantasy life) like before?

EWE – Ha-ha! I wouldn’t characterize myself as a completely self-confident f-girl in my book. I was still suffering from quite a bit of insecurity and was working my way through this throughout the entirety of the book. But I did definitely find myself again through sex, even though I still met with other challenges, such as some bad matches in bed and a guy who totally broke my heart.

But back to the other part of your question. I would say that my sexuality has fluctuated quite a bit throughout my life. I was very prude and full of shame in my younger life, even if I had sex for the first time at 15. I really didn’t enjoy penetration and a lot of it was because I felt like I was doing something bad. I come from a very conservative family and sex was always framed as something that I was giving up to a man who would use me if I wasn’t careful (and prude). And even after I got married, I should still feel shame surrounding sex, because my parents definitely treated their sex life – or what I knew about their sex life – in that way. Sex was something to hide at all costs, they were not going to talk to me about it, and I was not allowed to ask about it. I hate to say, but as I came into my own as a young woman, I suffered quite a bit from the mother wound, meaning my mother had a very negative view of sex, and I, sadly, adopted that.

I only started to open up – sexually speaking – when I became a dominatrix after college (pre-marriage!). But I didn’t see that job as sexual. I thought domming was just about treating men like garbage. (If you’d like to learn more about this era of my life, please read my newsletter The Accidental Dominatrix.) Nevertheless, my job as a pro-domme helped me deal with some of my shame. Little by little, my body image improved, and I started to explore myself sexually. And yet, during that time, I still maintained the belief that I had to keep my body count low or no man would ever want to commit to me. I did not embrace, nor did I completely own my sexuality, in that era, though I was on my way to getting there. This is why I say that I only finally “claimed” my sexuality after I left my first husband, as even when I was working in the sex industry as a dominatrix, I was still quite prude and felt like I was always at the mercy of men whom I let have so much control over me emotionally.

Fortunately, after my divorce, I finally worked through these issues. Finally, I was able to enjoy sex just for sex – and that was incredibly liberating! In that regard, I say that I finally “claimed” my sexuality. I hope that makes sense.

And…. to fully answer your question, I would say that I did have some BDSM fantasies even when I was working as a pro-domme. I had the desire to be dominated, but for the reasons I explained, I wasn’t ever able to experience it in a satisfying way. Back then, kink wasn’t viewed as it is today, as this fun thing that’s pretty benign, just a way to spice up sex. Back then (this was the 90s), kink was seen as a pathology. Though I had kink fantasies, when I would tell my lovers about them, they always thought I had some sort of mental issue. This was extremely painful and I’m very glad that we’re much more open today about the healthy, normal reality of kink.

A little cross-endorsement from Emme Witt-Eden

L – You’ve been in the lifestyle for some time now. As I recall, you used to not show your face in your posts on Medium.com and other social media, but now you do. Does this mean you’re “out” to your friends and family? And, I guess most importantly, does your ex-husband David know about this memoir?

EWE – Yes, you’re right, there was a time when I didn’t show my face because I was very keen on protecting my family from scandal. LOL. But seriously, I have kids whom I wanted to protect. I was also protecting my conservative family from embarrassment and pain. I’ve already been told that I’ve hurt my family. Quite a few of my family members know about my dominatrix past. It’s just so much pressure on me to feel like I’m bringing people so much pain just for exploring and writing about my own sexuality. I know this sounds crazy! But to make everyone happy and to keep the peace I once decided to hide my identity.

Not just that, there’s a part of me that likes privacy. I have a social life with other parents from my kids’ school and I just don’t feel like having to explain some of my life choices to these people. And I think many of us are like this. We have a face we show one set of friends and colleagues and a face we show another. We might have a professional face that we show our workplace friends, but they don’t know what goes on in our bedroom. I’ve happened to have chosen to make a profession out of what goes on in my bedroom and so it’s created this tension. A lot of people are simply not the appropriate recipients of the spicy news of my sex life. So, when they find out about it, I have to first listen to their judgments, and then decide whether we’re going to continue to be friends. This has basically resulted in me having much fewer friends, because, as a rule, people are very close-minded.

A couple of years ago, when I decided to show my face, several things had happened. I realized that I wasn’t going to get ahead in my writing career unless I started revealing what I look like. And when I did, I knew I would lose people. And so I basically had to get to the point where I was so tired of hiding parts of myself that I realized it was better to lose everyone. I’m just not interested in perpetuating the balancing act of ensuring certain people like me by hiding so much of myself. I’m finally ready to own up to who I am and that’s why I started showing my face. Of course, I still write under a pseudonym for now. Part of that is to just protect myself from trolls. It’s a crazy world out there, I’ll tell ya. Oh, and David does know I’ve written about him. He doesn’t care enough about my writing to give a crap, though. God, I’m glad we’re divorced.

L – Are your kids old enough to know about your “alternative” lifestyle? Have you told them or did they find out? Or will you be telling them at some appropriate time?

EWE – My kids still aren’t old enough and it’s really not appropriate for me to talk about it with them. However, my second husband, the man whom I’m currently married to, really applauds the way that I talk about sex with my kids. I’m very open and I talk about sex in a very calm and clinical manner. I don’t clam up and feel shame or tell my kids to stop asking questions. My current husband wasn’t like that with his kids and so he looks at my openness as this wonderful thing. I am able to guide my children as they learn about their sexuality, and I can do this in an open and honest way. And that is the result of the life I’ve led. But when the time is right, when my children older, I will tell them more about my life. I no longer feel shame. I’ve led the life I have because I’m curious and felt like a major part of my humanity was basically off-limits to me because I’m a female. I simply decided to explore those taboo territories. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Emme Witt-Eden

L – In the book you mention taking a creative writing class (and crushing on the professor). Would you workshop your erotic stories in the class, or did you keep it PG for the other students (and the hot professor)?

“Hey Emme, where you going?”
“My creative writing class.”

EWE – Hells no, I never workshopped my erotic stories in class. But I was writing a novel about the implosion of my marriage. It was basically a thinly veiled memoir, and a couple of those chapters did make it into Confessions, though in different form. I published a lot of the other stories under a different account on Medium. Yep, I get around… But no, I have never workshopped my erotic stories, and honestly, even my novelized stories have scandalized people. Sometimes I really hate other writers. I find writers to be the most conservative group of creative people. Musicians and visual artists are so much more chill.

L – What inspired you to turn your shorter works of writing into a book-length memoir?

EWE – Once again, I felt like I could get farther ahead in my career by actually having a book. A book gets people’s attention the way shorter pieces don’t, even though my shorter pieces have been quite lucrative. But writing a book is also a huge risk. If a shorter piece bombs, it’s no big deal, you just write another one. If a book bombs, then you’ve spent quite a while writing it and that sucks. Fingers crossed this project does well.

L – Care to share some of your favorite authors and/or books?

EWE – In the last year, I’ve been reading a lot of Annie Ernaux, Virginie Despentes, and Guadalupe Nettel. In my heart, I’m a literary fiction fanatic. Oh, and Maggie Nelson’s books are the bomb.

L – Care to share some of your favorite erotic authors and/or books and/or porn?

EWE – I like Japanese porn a lot because the actors tend to look like they’re actually enjoying the action, instead of just acting for the camera. American porn is so histrionic with the actors acting so fake, continually looking toward the camera because they know they’re being filmed. It’s obvious it’s a performance, and as a female, that’s a turn-off for me. Men probably don’t notice it, but I do. I’m not sure how you categorize your Match, Cinder & Spark series, but your man, HH, writes some of the best erotica I’ve read! And the photos and art of you are – well, let’s just say “inspiring”!

Emme Witt-Eden getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume V: Shorter Shorts, in public. An author, avid erotica reader, dominatrix, and exhibitionist!

L – I noticed in the memoir that, with all the f-girl shenanigans you got up to, there was no girl-on-girl, anal, bondage, or water sports. You make it very known in the book what you do and don’t like. Are those not on your kinks list or did you grow into them later?

EWE – Oh, there was a little bit of bondage in the first chapter of Confessions. You’ll have to wait for the girl-on-girl action for the new book I’m writing. In terms of anal, that’s not something that I typically engage in as a hookup, so there wasn’t much in this book. Luckily, my current husband is the one who gets to enjoy having his dick up my ass. In terms of water sports, that’s something I explored as a dominatrix but honestly, I’m not really into that.

L – What advice, if any, would you give to young married mothers who are in committed, but rather unstimulating relationships, somewhat like you were in just at the start of the memoir?

EWE – My advice? Well, they committed to this guy for a reason, so they might as well make the best of it. I would advise doing everything they can not to let the passion die. I would schedule date nights and sex. A lot of people don’t like to schedule sex because they think that’s not romantic. Well, this is just the way it is once you get married and have kids. We can no longer drop everything and have sex whenever we want. So schedule sex. Don’t, and watch the passion fizzle away.

Then again, if you’ve tried everything and it’s still not working out, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with considering a divorce. That or an open marriage. Non-monogamy is no longer perceived as the crazy thing it once was, so I think it’s a great way to deal with mismatched libidos

L – Any bucket list goals you hope to achieve this year?

EWE – I really want to get the sequel of this book done!

L – What can we expect from future publications by you?

EWE – You can expect my second book in this series: Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-girl in Costa Rica. And then my third: Diary of a Middle-Aged Sugar Baby.

L – Thanks Emme! We cannot wait to see those books come out as well as a prequel about your time as a dominatrix!!!

You can find Emme Witt-Eden, a.k.a. Mysterious Witt here:

F-girl dating Instagram: @mysterious_witt

Kinky consultant Instagram: @emmewitteden

www.emmewitt.com