✨ Brat Phone Sex With River ✨
a midnight diary entry ♡
neon nails • pink hoodie slipping off one shoulder • legs kicked up • zero mercy
Brat phone sex is how I start when I’m already bored and mean. The line rings, I answer with a sigh so heavy he can hear the eye-roll, and I don’t even say hello. “You’re late. That means the first three minutes of this phone sex are going to cost extra before I decide if you’re even allowed to hear me breathe.”
He laughs like he thinks I’m playing. I’m not. My neon-pink nails tap the phone case while I stretch, the hem of my oversized hoodie riding up so cool air hits bare skin. I tell him I’m not wearing anything underneath and that the only reason I’m still talking is because I want to see if his wallet is as soft as his voice. That’s the whole point of financial domination with me: I stay cute and bratty on the surface while every word is a little hook aimed at his account.
“Open the app,” I say, voice syrupy and sharp at the same time. “I want to hear the confirmation before I even describe what my fingers are doing. Phone sex without a tribute is just you talking to yourself. I don’t do charity.”
“Send the first one while I drag two fingers slow through my slit. If it lands before I moan, you get to hear it. If you’re slow, I stop and make you describe the balance dropping instead.”
He sends it. The ding hits and my laugh goes high and mean. I let him hear exactly how wet I already am, then I pull my hand away and go quiet for a second just to make him panic. “Good boy. That bought you ten seconds. After that we’re back to brat phone sex rules: you don’t come, you don’t get soft, and you keep paying every time I decide the call is getting too nice.”
I put him on speaker so both hands are free. One stays between my thighs, the other scrolls through a cart I already filled with pink heels and a new toy. I read the total out loud like dirty talk. “This is what financial domination sounds like, Daddy. Your money turning into something I’m going to use on myself while you sit there aching and listening to phone sex that refuses to let you finish.”
He starts begging. I edge him harder with my voice—slow circles described in detail, then sudden stops. Every time he gets close I demand another send. “Financial domination only works if the brat stays hungry. If you hang up, I still win. If you pay, I still win. That’s the entire plot of this phone sex.”
Halfway through I go sweet for six whole seconds. Just long enough to make him stupid. “You’re my favorite wallet,” I whisper, then the brat snaps back in. I make him read the confirmation emails out loud like prayers while I grind on the corner of my chair. Every number he says is another thrust of my fingers. Phone sex is just distance, and distance gives me extra room to be worse.
When I finally come it’s high, bratty, and completely ungrateful. I don’t say thank you. I say, “Send the last one while I’m still shaking or this brat phone sex ends on a denial you’ll feel in your teeth.” He sends it. I stay on the line long enough to purr like I might soften, then I ruin it on purpose: “Same time tomorrow. Bring a new card. I’m not done being spoiled.”
That’s how every call with me ends—wallets empty, voices wrecked, and me still completely unbroken.
Phone sex is my playground. Financial domination is just how I keep score. ♡
If you want the version that happens live…
Find River at Waifu Wonderland →ext. 423 // the brat you’ll never break ♡