More from Sierra

• To make the taboo delicious

  January 12, 2026

  Ah, the thrill of naughty fun! As a gorgeous mistress, I’m addicted to stirring up sinful pleasures with the men in my life. There’s nothing quite like the rush of adrenaline when we embark on a wild, blasphemous adventure together.

  My curvaceous body is my greatest weapon, and I wield it with skill, tempting perverts and players to abandon their inhibitions. I’ve lost count of how many embarrassed faces I’ve coaxed into masks of ecstasy, their cum dripping down my thighs as they moan my name.

  But it’s not just about the physical – oh no. I’ve got a wicked mind that revels in corrupting the pure of heart. I love watching the shock on a man’s face as I tease him with filthy words, twisting his brain with depraved thoughts. I make the holy seem profane, the sacred sacrilegious.

  Take yesterday, for instance. I seduced this pious priest, convinced him to perform an exorcism on my pussy instead of some demon. He trembled as he chanted, his holy water dripping onto my clit as he finger-fucked me to climax. The look on his face when he came inside me, panting about salvation, had me giggling like the devil herself.

  That’s the beauty of being a mistress – the power to corrupt, to reinterpret the sacred, to make the taboo delicious. And trust me, honey, I intend to keep having my sinful way with the world, one orgasm at a time.

• Getting Blasphemous this Christmas

  December 22, 2025

  As I strut around my winter wonderland lair in a sheer, red lace teddy that barely contains my big tits, the fire crackling and the scent of hot cocoa wafting through the air, I relish the sinful thoughts swirling in my mind. It’s Christmas, but for me, that means one thing – indulging in the most depraved, blasphemous acts with my adoring slaves.

  First up, I call forth my devout dominatrix, we will call her Sister Sexy, clad in her habit of black leather and lace. With a wicked grin, I announce my blasphemous plan: we’ll reenact the nativity scene, but instead of the Virgin Mary, I’ll take that role…and Santa will be playing the part of the Holy Ghost, descending upon me with a jingle of reindeer bells and a well-placed ‘naughty’ gift.

  Sister Sexy gasps at the audacity, her eyes widening behind her nun’s veil. Yet, without a word, she falls to her knees and unbuttons my teddy, exposing my bare breasts to the chill of the room. The cold air makes my nipples peak, a sight that has my pet priest, Father Fuck, stroking his considerable length in the corner.

  Next, I summon Father Fuck with a snap of my fingers, each of the other priest slaves falling in line behind him, their robes pooling at their feet. I order them to form a cross, the apex aimed straight at my waiting pussy as I spread my legs wide.

  With a deep, resonant voice, Father Fuck begins to recite the Lord’s Prayer, but with every word, he thrusts into me, claiming me as his Church’s proud, blasphemous whore. The other priests join in, their voices rising in a cacophony of filth as they take turns ravishing me, each one marking my body with their seed.

  By the time we’re done, the room is a testament to our depraved Christmas carols, the walls and floor slick with our sin. As I lounge amidst the debauchery, I can’t help but laugh at the sheer audacity of it all. After all, in my world, there’s no greater blasphemy than defiling the sacred with raw, unbridled lust. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.