Marisol Price

Desperate for control? Real, tangible, fear-inducing, goosebumps, control? I'll blackmail you. Once you're in my hands, you won't even know it when I find that little bit of personal info and save it for later. Maybe days, a month, a year. I'll get you back. Keep you in my grasp. I just want a horny boy that I can toy with. Touch your cock for me, or maybe I'll touch it if you behave. I just want you.

I’m going to start a blackmail train. I’ll fuck over whoever I need to in order to get to you. All I want is you. I have those yandere, crazy girlfriend vibes that scare you a little bit. I’ll go through your phone when you fall resting. I’ll sneak photos when you’re stroking in the shower. I’ll do anything to get your secret, your information, your servitude, control. Watch out, boy, I’ll get you.

Repeat after me: "I belong to Marisol Price. My body, my life, my cock, are all in control of her hands and the information I'm about to give her. When she says bark, I bark. When she says send, I send. When she says play, I play. When she says no, I do not."

I want an army of trapped blackmail toys. Submit and you won't regret it, or you will and the thrill will feel SO good.

You're already so weak for my blackmail temptations. Just from a smirk, a bounce of my tits, or a giggle, and you bend in the knees to press send on that email with your info. But what if we play a game with more at risk? My clothes, for your info. My naked skin, for that pervy little photo of you. My pantyhose-less legs, for your credit card number. You can't say no. You won't.

It's kind of special that I let you in on my little games. Share them to the public. For you, fun, a dream that you can stroke to, like "oh wow he's so lucky, she owns him and is threatening him with this clip", for him, it's real. Whether he's watching this, or trying to ignore it so he doesn't know what's happening. He feels that gut wrenching reality of me OWNING his life. Be him.

Come play. I want to pluck at those butterfly strings in your stomach and make you stroke to the pleasure of your own fear.

A temptress. My bite is dangerous, but my allure is tempting, just as my games. Or is it really a game when I make it so very real for you? The heart flutters you feel, real. The sweaty palms. The weak knees. The internal gut wrenching feeling that someone, me, OWNS you just with a little information that could ruin you. Fall into my web, let me spin you and drain you dry until you're a submissive weak nothing.

One after another, you're all lining up for me to ruin you. The fear, the anxiety, the thrill, the high. Ugh. You just can't resist but press send on that email containing all your info, or maybe it's just a "Please let me be your bmail slave" one liner. Either on. I want you in my inbox. Submit. Commit to servitude. Let me own you, your cock, and your life, with all those precious details wrapped around my finger.

I've made blackmail into my craft. So many of you begging to be under my control. So many of you, so sensitive. Listen to my whispery giggles of how I'll control you. How you'll be my pet on a chain on a whim. How at the push of a button, I could ruin you. You're mine. Spiral for my delicate whispery domination. This is a trap, and you will lose.

Could you handle the reality of my very real game? Would you crumble? Tap out? Beg for me to wipe my memory of all that personal info? Hah. As if I could forget. It's all saved to my memory even if you ask for out. I'll always have that control once you click yes to playing with me. That's the fun of it. You. Are. All. Mine.

I'm so lucky to have you. You, my object to tease and torment. You, underneath me, worshiping, listening to my every command. You, weak, obsessed, addicted. I mean, you would do anything for me, right? You have to. You have no other choice. Because if you don't I'll...

I know what I want. You. Your life. Complete and utter control.

Do you know what you want, little blackmail boy?

Commit. Email me now.

This is real. You can email me at any point and I'll make it real, maybe you'll end up on my clips feed too, maybe you won't. That choice is all up to me. I want to have REAL control of you. Not only your cock, your pleasure, your fetish, but your LIFE.

Give in.

Hi, cutie. I’m so glad we got to meet up today. I really just want to know more about you. I’m such a curious girl, and I think first dates are a great opportunity to learn a lot about each other. So, tell me about yourself. Tell me everything, boy. I want to know you.

I’ve got you here now. Really... only because I need something from you that I know you have. You can tell me all the information I need. I know it’ll be a little easier for you to talk if we get some flow going and get you weaker and weaker. Then you’ll be telling me everything you know. You better at least. You’re not leaving until I get all the information I need. It’s so easy to get you to do whatever I want.

Can you resist the urge, the urge to have a powerful women in complete control over your life? All it can take is a full name, password, a photo if you're feeling freaky. I prowl the internet for your information, personally. This is a personal passion point of mine. Real offer, as always. Come play. Addiction starts with this first step.

Did you realize that when you sent me your password that it's REAL? This isn't a made up mind game. I have a password book for weak boys.

How about when I told you to make a Grindr account, and kept that password for myself? How loyal to your goddess are you? Will you supply naughty photos to me, with raunchy cock pics, my name written on your body, for me to use however I please?

Maybe they'll end up on this profile. Maybe I'll get you a cute little date. Maybe I'll make you go.

"Thank you, Marisol." "Thank you, goddess." "Thank you, mistress."

All thankful for my thoughtful control of your life. This is my fetish. This is your addiction. Your life held in my hand, so easily crushable without a thought, yet I take special care of how I'll use this private information and your puppeteer every move. Stroke boy, slowly as I giggle and scroll through your phone. Stroke and edge while I answer the call from your wife. Milk that cumshot out while I hold my delicate finger over "send" of a photo of you on your knees to your boss.

You better behave, you'll thank me.

New year, new vulnerable you. This clip is for boys who have an already established blackmail relationship with me. That's right. Send your information to me FIRST. You need to be vulnerable, after all, for this to really work its magic. Even if its just a little password, that's how you'll fall perfectly into my trap. Now, unzip, press send, and spiral goon boy, spiral.

As executive assistant, I notice all things, including the gaze of my boss's eyes falling up and down my silky pantyhose. At first I was taken back, but then I thought about how our yearly review is right around the corner... A few hours of playing into in the room, maybe a few photos while he's cock-stupid. What a perfect little gift to myself.

I could make you do just about anything. Like buying this clip. And listening to every single command I say, because you have NO other choice but to comply.