More from Tara

• Tara’s Peachy Throne of Power

  January 24, 2026

  Tara’s Peachy Throne of Power

  Filthy domination from a hung shemale Goddess who wrecks wimpy bitch boys

  Meet my latest toy: a sniveling little bitch boy named Timmy. 5’6″, skinny, trembling, with a pathetic excuse for a dick that barely twitches when he’s scared. He begged to serve me—Tara—the dominant shemale with a thick, veiny, 12-inch monster cock that makes grown men cry. I laughed in his face and told him to strip. He did, instantly, knees shaking like a leaf.

  “On your back, bitch,” I growled. He scrambled onto the bed, legs spread wide like the desperate slut he is. I straddled his chest first, my heavy balls dragging across his chin as I slapped my massive girl-cock against his cheek—thwack, thwack—leaving sticky precum trails. “Open that whore mouth.” He obeyed, tongue out, eyes watering already. I fed him the head, stretching his lips wide, then pushed deeper until he gagged. “That’s it, choke on Goddess Tara’s huge dick. This is what real cock feels like, loser.”

  He slurped and sucked like his life depended on it, drool running down his chin, but I wasn’t here for gentle. I pulled out, flipped him over roughly, and yanked his hips up—ass high, face down in the pillows. “Beg for it, bitch boy.” “Please, Goddess Tara,” he whimpered, “fuck my tight hole with your big cock. Ruin me.” Pathetic. I spat on his puckered ass, rubbed my throbbing shaft along his crack, then slammed in—one brutal thrust burying half my length inside him. He screamed, body jerking, but I didn’t stop. I gripped his waist and pounded deeper, balls slapping his taint with every savage stroke.

  His little dick flopped uselessly beneath him, leaking pre-cum onto the sheets while I reamed his ass open. “Feel that, wimp? That’s a real cock owning you.” I reached around, pinched his tiny nipples hard, making him yelp. Faster now—wet, filthy sounds filling the room as my huge shaft pistoned in and out, stretching him wide, claiming every inch. He was babbling nonsense, ass clenching around me, trying to milk my load. But I control the pace. I control everything.

  When I felt him start to shake—on the edge without even touching his worthless clit—I pulled out suddenly, leaving him gaping and empty. “No cumming for you, bitch.” I stroked my slick cock over his back, then exploded—thick ropes of hot cum painting his spine, dripping down his crack. He sobbed in frustration, humping the air like a dog in heat. “Clean it up with your tongue,” I ordered. He did—lapping his own back like the degraded cum-slut he is.

  Timmy left limping, ass sore, dignity gone, but begging to come back for more. That’s what happens when a wimpy bitch boy meets Tara’s huge, dominant cock. I fuck. I ruin. I own.

  Think you’re next? Crawl to me and prove you can take it.

  Submit to Goddess Tara Now →

• Tara’s Favorite Client

  November 30, 2025

  🔥 Tara’s Favorite Client 🔥

  He’d been Tara’s client for months—always polite, always intensely focused on her, always a little too eager to please. And Tara noticed everything. Especially the way he watched her like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to worship her or fall apart for her. Tonight, she invited him to her private office. Soft lighting. Low music. A chair placed exactly where she wanted him. “Sit,” she said, her voice smooth and amused. He obeyed instantly, cheeks flushed with nerves and excitement. Tara closed the door behind her, heels clicking as she circled him like a predator deciding how much fun she wanted to have. “Nervous?” she teased, leaning down to trail a finger under his jaw. “A little,” he whispered. Her lips curved. “Good.” She settled onto the edge of her desk, crossing her long legs, the slit in her skirt revealing skin he’d only dreamed about. His breath hitched. Tara heard it. Tara enjoyed it. “You’ve had the biggest crush on me,” she said, amused. “You think I don’t see it?” He swallowed, unable to look away. “I… yeah. I do.” “Honesty,” she purred. “That’s new for you.” She leaned forward, brushing his cheek with her thumb, her expression soft but wickedly entertained. “You’ve been dying to know what I’m like when I’m not being professional.” His eyes widened, and Tara couldn’t help the slow smile spreading across her lips. “Let me show you.” She guided his chin upward with a single finger. He followed every movement like he was enchanted. Tara stepped closer, her body towering over him, her energy wrapping around him like warm smoke. “On your knees,” she whispered. He slid off the chair without hesitation, breath shaking, eyes full of worship and need. Tara watched him kneel for her, her grin growing. “Look at you,” she murmured. “You’re adorable.” Her hand drifted down her thigh, to the place he’d been fantasizing about for months. His eyes widened, breath catching as she revealed exactly what she wanted him to see—thick, heavy, impossible to ignore. His lips parted. Tara laughed softly, delighted. “Oh, sweetheart,” she crooned, brushing her fingers over his cheek, “you wanted this so badly, didn’t you?” “Yes,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Please.” “That’s better.” She tilted his chin up. “Beg properly.” He did. He begged beautifully. Tara let him get close enough for his breath to warm her skin, close enough to make him tremble, close enough that he knew exactly what she was about to let him do—then she held him there, savoring the control. “You’re going to take your time,” she said softly. “You’re going to show me how good you are. And maybe—maybe—I’ll let you have all of me.” His exhale came out as a desperate, grateful sound, knees pressing into the floor like he was kneeling before a goddess. Tara smiled down at him, amused and indulgent. “Go on,” she murmured, placing her hand in his hair. “Show me how much you worship your favorite woman.” She didn’t have to say it twice.

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