Mike stared at his phone for several long moments.
He had used Phone Sex Chatline plenty of times before, usually for the same kind of thing, playful dirty talk, moaning, trading fantasies with eager strangers. But tonight, he was restless. He wanted something different. Something that would hit him in a way he hadn’t experienced yet.
Scrolling through the options, his eyes landed on a listing that made his pulse quicken.
“Strict Female Dom. Silent Discipline.”
It was strange. It was unlike anything he’d tried. But that was exactly what pulled him in.
With a deep breath, Mike pressed connect.
The line rang twice before it clicked.
A woman’s voice greeted him, steady, low, and laced with absolute control.
“You’ve reached Mistress Lena.”
Mike’s throat dried instantly. “Hi,” he managed, his voice already shaky.
Lena spoke with deliberate calm. “Before we continue, know this: I do not engage in conversation. I do not respond to begging, questions, or whining. I will not say another word once we begin. My job is to ignore you completely. Your job is to obey your need in silence.”
Mike’s heart raced. This was already hotter than he expected.
“Understood?” she asked.
He swallowed. “Yes.”
There was a pause, then a soft click as she put her headset down, but the line stayed open.
Mike was left in complete silence.
His breath grew heavier. The emptiness on the line was oddly intimate, unsettling, and intoxicating. He pictured her sitting there, calm, listening. Fully aware of him on the other end but refusing to speak or acknowledge him.
The denial was maddening. And he loved it.
Shifting on his bed, Mike reached down, undoing his pants with one hand while gripping the phone with the other. His hard length sprang free, already pulsing.
He whispered into the empty air.
“You’re just sitting there, aren’t you?” he said, voice breaking. “Listening to me stroke myself while you do nothing.”
No response.
The lack of acknowledgment only fueled him more. His strokes grew faster.
“You love this, don’t you?” he panted. “Making me desperate. Making me talk while you say nothing.”
Silence.
The emptiness of the line wrapped around him like a tight grip. His breathing grew ragged as his hand worked up and down his shaft, each stroke slicker than the last.
“I can’t stop,” he whispered. “You’re making me so hot.”
He pictured her, legs crossed, expression unreadable, calm and unmoved while his body unraveled on the other end of the line. The pure psychological tension pushed him into new territory. Every second without her voice heightened the pressure in his chest, his stomach tightening.
His hips bucked involuntarily.
“You’re in complete control,” he gasped. “And you’re not even touching me.”
Still, Mistress Lena remained silent.
Mike’s moans filled the line as his orgasm built fast, the denial and power dynamic surging through him with an intensity he’d never felt before.
“I’m going to come,” he whispered, eyes squeezing shut. “And you won’t even tell me I can.”
The forbidden nature of it, the absolute lack of permission, was too much. His orgasm erupted, thick streams pulsing through his fist as his body convulsed, his breathing jagged, his skin slick with sweat.
He collapsed back onto the bed, panting hard, the silence still echoing in his ear.
Only then did Mistress Lena speak, her voice calm, smooth, and perfectly detached.
“You may disconnect when you’ve finished.”
The line stayed open. She offered no praise, no judgment. Just control.
Mike’s heart was still pounding as he whispered, “Thank you.”
He ended the call, lying still, his mind reeling.
He hadn’t known he needed this.
But now? Now he knew.