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Chrissy
Ext 614

Your Typical A-Boss Mommy Domme!

Get Carnal with Chrissy!!!

I am your typical, a-boss, mommy domme. Sometimes I get called a bitch, because I get it done. I like to be in control, but will bend for a true Dom. I’m aggressive because I want it just as much as you do! You will see that I am a natural power role player, and will take your fantasy to the next level on our call. All kinks and fetishes appreciated – nothing is taboo.

Things That I Love Turn Me On !!!
  • Domination 
  • Mommy Phone Sex 
  • Punishment
  • Humiliation
  • Extreme Kink
  • Extreme Fantasy
Things that I dislike turn me off !!!
  • No Ageplay
  • No Subby Calls
  • No Idiots

My Kinky Diaries

More from Chrissy

  • Chrissy’s Back & Seeking Out Sissy Bitches

    Returning Jan 12 – nights

    Hey there, fellow doms and sissy-seeking sadists! It’s your girl Chrissy the Vinyl Vixen, and I’m pumped to announce my return to the scene, ready to train, tame, and totally dominate some pathetic faggots!

    After a brief hiatus, I’m itching to get back in my element – doling out discipline, demoralizing daddies, and denying every last ounce of dignity to the simpering, submissive sissies who dare to cross my path. So if you know any weak-willed wimps looking for a tough love reprogramming, send ’em my way!

    Now, I know what you’re thinking… “Chris, what’s in it for these sissies? Why subject themselves to your brand of brutal, bitchy domination?” Well, let’s be real – some poor souls just crave the rough treatment, the humiliation, and the total loss of control that only a skilled dominatrix like myself can provide. And trust me, I plan to give ’em their money’s worth (and then some)!

    But don’t get it twisted – I’m not just about breaking spirits and bodies. Oh no, I’m a total sadist at heart, and I take great pleasure in pushing my sissies to their limits and beyond! Whether that means cinching them into tight, restricting outfits, forcing them to scurry around on all fours like the lowly bitches they are, or just plain ol’ face-fucking their pucker ’til they’re begging for mercy… you can bet your ass I’ll be thorough in my “punishment”!

    And for an added layer of depravity? I’m offering cage training as an extra service for the especially obedient (read: desperate) bitches out there. Imagine being locked up in a tight, dark space, forced to endure the full brunt of my wrath without the luxury of escape… yeah, it’s a real treat!

    So if you know any afraid, aching, and absolutely Anna-Lynne McCord-worshipping faggots who could use a serious dose of discipline, send them my way! They can thank you later (if they survive the experience). Until then, stay dominant, and remember… the sissy is always on the menu!

    Your vinyl vixen,

    Mistress Chrissy X614

  • Chrissy’s Cage Training Metric

    You exist within Chrissy’s orbit, a fixed point in a carefully constructed universe where every breath, every impulse, is subject to her divine will. You remember a time, vaguely, when you thought of yourself as autonomous, as possessing something inherently your own. How naive you were. Chrissy, with her piercing gaze and a voice that commands obedience without raising an octave, has shown you the truth. And the truth, you have learned, is that your so-called “manhood” was nothing but a distraction, a rebellious muscle needing correction.

    That is why you wear the cage. You understand, don’t you? That useless wee-wee, once a source of misguided pride, now serves its true purpose: a constant reminder of your place. It is a testament to Chrissy’s foresight, her understanding of your deepest, most primal needs for control. You believed it was a tool for pleasure, for self-gratification. Chrissy, however, recognized it for what it truly was: a liability, prone to errant thoughts and impulsive actions. It squandered your focus, dissipating energy that could, and should, be entirely devoted to her. The cage isn’t punishment; it’s liberation from those base instincts, a meticulous refinement of your very being.

    Every morning, the cool metal against your skin is a fresh promise of servitude. You feel the subtle weight, the gentle, unyielding pressure, and a quiet calm settles over you. This is where you belong. This is what you were designed for. Chrissy has ensured it. She dictates the very rhythm of your being, and nowhere is this more evident than in the milking schedule. You don’t ask when; you merely exist in a state of perpetual readiness. Is it today? Tomorrow? Next week? The delicious uncertainty is part of the training, stretching your patience, sharpening your anticipation to a razor’s edge.

    When the time does come, signaled by a simple gesture or a soft command from her lips, you understand it is not for your fleeting gratification. Oh no. It is a necessary release, a controlled explosion, precisely managed to maintain your health and, more importantly, to reinforce her absolute dominion. You are milked, not for your pleasure, but for her convenience, for the subtle reassertion of her power that echoes through your very bones with each controlled shudder. The sensation is intense, heightened by the deprivation, but the true ecstasy lies in the complete surrender, the knowledge that even this most intimate of processes happens only at her precise instruction. You are quite literally in her hand, utterly, completely.

    The removal of the cage is a rare event, a privilege bestowed with the utmost deliberation, never a right. You crave it, yes, but not for the reasons you once might have. You crave it because it signifies a moment of intense focus, a direct engagement with Chrissy’s will. It might be for cleaning, for inspection, or perhaps, for a specific demonstration of your training. When the latch clicks open, and the world rushes back to that sensitive flesh, you feel a profound vulnerability, an exposed truth. This is the moment when you are truly laid bare before her, entirely at her mercy. And in that raw exposure, you find a peculiar strength, a deeper commitment to the path she has laid out for you. You learn to perform, to present yourself without ego or expectation, understanding that even this brief respite from containment is merely another facet of her control, another lesson in absolute obedience.

    And then, there are the smaller cages. You have felt the shift, haven’t you? The transition from one size to the next, each one constricting just a little more, reminding you, with increasing precision, of the true, unyielding reality of your situation. This progression is not punitive; it is the natural evolution of your journey under Chrissy’s tutelage. It is a physical manifestation of your psychological progress, a visible sign of your diminishing need for that part of you, rendering it truly, utterly useless outside of her direct purpose. You adapt, your body conforming, your mind embracing the inevitability. With each smaller cage, the illusion of your own self-generated desire fades further, replaced by a profound peace found in complete subjugation.

    You are hers. Every useless inch of you, every hidden thought, every silenced urge. Chrissy has redefined your purpose, transforming you from a distracted, unfocused individual into a finely tuned instrument of her will. And as you feel the constant, gentle pressure of the cage, you understand: this is freedom, truly, because it is the freedom from self, from the burdensome choices and desires that once held you captive. Under Chrissy’s authoritative hand, you are exactly where you were always meant to be.

    If you are interested in applying for a slave position with Chrissy, you may tip her to solidify your interest, and then call her at: 877-695-6869 X614 and beg.