Mommy Liz

Mommy Liz
Mommy Liz
Mommy Liz
Mommy Liz
  

My Bio: 


     Hi pumpkin, I'm Mommy Lizabeth! Phone sex has always been my job -- I guess you could say I'm professionally naughty. My favorite callers have always been Adult Babies, and I'm just as pleased as punch to get to play with sweet little boys and girls like you! I love the sensuality and complete abandon of ageplay and ABie roleplay...I love taking complete control of my babies, smothering them with love and nurturing, or punishing them when they misbehave!

    I'm Texas born and raised, so my loving, stern lectures and nursery songs are with a sweet Southern accent. I also learned proper Southern manners (and proper domestic discipline) at my Momma's knee, watching her spank and whip my little sisters...and watched her use what she called "petticoat punishment" on my little brothers, dressing them up in frilly dresses and making them walk around the block in girls' clothes. As you can imagine, I don't hesitate to chasten, sissify, and humiliate my little ones if they sass me, either! Sissy girls are a specialty of mine.

    I'm a very versatile, creative Mommy -- I can be kind, gentle, and loving one moment, breastfeeding and diapering you...and the next toss you over my lap and spank your little bottom until it's blistered. I adore intricate, twisted roleplay, and I find the pleasure of coddling and dominating you completely to be absolutely *delicious*. If you long for a Mommy who can be kind and coddling, or sweetly vicious with a loving, firm hand -- if you need a Mommy with no limits who loves you when you're good and deals out discipline when you're bad, give me a call!

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  • Singing & Stories

  • Sissification

  • Petticoat Discipline

  • Mommy-Dommy

 
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Diaper Emergency call 1 (888) 430-2010

January 5, 2011

What Does the Bee Do

What does the bee do? Bring home honey. And what does Father do? Bring home money. And what does Mother do? Lay out the money. And what does baby do? Eat up the honey Christina Rossetti Minnie
December 2, 2010

We dollhouse monsters

our jowls crashing like cymbals, while my baby brother takes out his eight-ball left eye and squints his right to line up his shot on the world’s smallest pool table. Mother has a camera for a head; it flashes uncontrollably though she claims to have run out of film a hundred years ago, when father’s penis, an unstoppable spigot, became a garden sprinkler, contained by adult diapers, changed hourly, and hourly, my sister— shuffling out of her hiding place in the cuckoo clock, her hair a mess of paper clips, a Raggedy Ann doll in […]