He was tied to the bed, wrists and ankles secured strongly by gentle ropes, a blindfold obscuring his vision, and a hard rubber ball in his mouth, gagging him. That much he did know.

What he didn’t know is how he got there.

He tried reaching out with his other senses – smell and hearing – and couldn’t come up with much. A slightly sweet, fruity scent reached his nostrils, mixed with the tang of sweaty leather and crisp linen…. He knew the first scent, but he couldn’t place it. It tugged at his memory, making him squirm….

Thoughts collided in his head, muddled and foggy. How long had he been there? Minutes? Hours? Days? What was the last thing he remembered?

Under the blindfold, his brow creased and he bit into the ballgag, concentrating. A bar…?

He sighed, leaving the puzzle and coming back to the present. He shifted on the bed, feeling the silk sheets beneath drag across his naked flesh. Goosebumps rose along his skin, making him shudder and tug fruitlessly at his bonds.

“It’s nice to see you awake, my pet.”

He flinched, freezing at the voice from the darkness. A shiver ran down his back as the smooth, liquid, feminine voice ran through his head. How long was she there? Was she watching him?

“Ohh, relax, my pet,” the woman cooed softly. A weight pressed down on the edge of the bed, making him shift to the right. She sat down next to him. “There’s no cause for struggle. After all…you’re not going anywhere.”

A wicked, sensual laugh assaulted his ears. A series of flashes in his memory…

He was at a local theme bar with some friends to see a band perform. He wasn’t much for industrial metal rock, but his friends were, and he hadn’t been out of the house in a while. He decided it’d be best to go spend time with people rather than watch hours of mindless entertainment on television…

He remembered his friends saying something about a theme that night to go with the band… Fetish, they said. Outwardly, he didn’t say much other than, “Oh, cool.” Inwardly…his heart and soul were leaping, sending his gullet into a barrel roll at the thought….

The decor of the bar was dark and Gothic, converted from an old church. Where the pews used to sit was a wide dance floor, small tables and chairs peppered around the perimeter. Along one wall was a line of booths; on the other, the bar, crammed with people and drinks and two bartenders who had no trouble keeping up with orders…

Things got hazy after they arrived. It would still be at least an hour and a half before the band went onstage, and his friends decided to wait it out at the McDonald’s next door. They asked him to come along and he politely refused, claiming to want to have a drink. His friends shrugged and took off, leaving him by himself….

A woman. She was tall, statuesque, wearing spiked stiletto heels… Long, obsidian hair falling in curls around her shoulders… Eyes that were soft yet burned and flashed like steel… An elegant evening gown contrasting with the outlandish leather and latex costumes… Her arms coated in long opera gloves…

He gulped as she sat next to him, primly upon the booth seat. Her smile was warm and inviting, her perfume intoxicating…

His mouth went dry as she looked at him… Stuttering, he offered to buy her a drink, his voice quavering, tongue stumbling. She laughed at his awkwardness, leaned in close – he saw her voluminous breasts, barely held in check by the plunging neckline of the gown – laid her gloved hand atop his and placed her lips to his cheek, her breath whispering softly against his skin….

She spoke…

And then….

And then….

He couldn’t remember. Everything got muddled and hazy. A wash of lights and sounds occupied his mind, with the Woman front and centre, obscuring all other thoughts, her laugh merry and enticing with the barest hint of sadism beneath….

He flinched. She laid her hand upon his bare chest, dragging her velvety fingers along his skin.

“Mmmmm….” She moaned softly. He could hear the feral smile in her voice. “Such tender skin…. Supple, and….”

He jumped again, feeling her fingers pinch hard around his left nipple and pull. He whimpered around the ballgag crammed in his mouth.

“…..ssssensitive,” she hissed in his ear, causing him to moan and twitch.

Thoughts and worries melted from his mind at her words, the gentle, liquid cadence of her tone…. A warm sensation started in his gullet and spread quickly through his core, heating up his cool skin and….

“Oh, my, pet!” Her fingers left his chest and he arched his back to follow, as far as his bonds would allow. He whimpered, realizing her hands were elsewhere upon him, groaning softly as she took hold….

“My pet’s feeling frisky, is he?”

He trembled as her fingers played along his cock, teasing, caressing, squeezing his balls gently, making him shudder and shake. He tried to speak, but a muffled groaning was all that was heard around the hard rubber.

“What’s that?” She asked him, slowly letting his hardness slip from her grasp. “Stop?”

Whimpering, he shook his head, mumbling around the gag.

“You don’t want me to stop?” She asked, innocence in her voice, her hand moving along the length of his shaft, stroking, making him buck and arch.

He shook his head again, a moan escaping around the rubber in his mouth.

A weight settled across his chest and he could feel her, laying atop him. Her breasts pressed teasingly on his chest and he felt her lips scant inches from his own, her heady scent invading his nostrils. He could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke.

“Maybe I should stop….stop stroking that cock of yours…as my fingers just…gliiiiide up and down your shaft….” Her voice practically oozed sex, and he felt himself thrusting into her hand, getting closer to the edge.

“Is that what you want? You want me to stop?” She laughed, moving her hand quicker. He shook his head again, groaning, thrusting upwards into her hand, trembling at the sensation….

“Nooo… No, I know just what you want, my pet,” she whispered, lightly pressing her lips to his ear. “You want to cum, don’t you?”

A deep moan issued from the back of his throat, his hips rocking and bucking, matching the timing of her strokes.

“Oh, yes…you want to cum hard for your Mistress, don’t you, my pet?”

He nodded rapidly, feeling his mind gibber, a swelling sensation in his balls as he built towards orgasm, breathing faster, his heart thudding and pounding in his chest, toes curling, bucking and squirming under her, coming closer and closer, building right to the edge…

“Well…it’s not about what you want, is it, pet?” She laughed then, an edge to her voice, and removed her hand, pushing herself up and off his body, sitting on the edge of the bed.

A high-pitched, choking whimper escaped his throat and he threw his head back, biting hard into the gag, his whole body tensing, cords standing out in his neck, wrists and feet pulling at the bonds, feeling the rope bite into his flesh. His cock stood, quivering, precum dribbling from the tip, balls tight against his body. He shook, whimpering, his breath coming in ragged gasps around the gag.

He could feel her gaze upon him, her icy stare penetrating his soul as he writhed on the bed. He gasped and froze as her hand suddenly gripped his neck, her gloved fingers squeezing tight into his bare flesh, cutting off his breathing.

“No, no…it’s about what I want, my pet,” she hissed, her voice devoid of warmth, “and if I don’t want you to cum, then you’re not going to cum, or there will be severe repercussions. Understood?”

He nodded rapidly, his face reddening from lack of air.

“I can’t hear you.”

His lips flapped around the gag, choking out, “Yeff….”

“‘Yes,” what?” Her grip tightened, her voice starting to echo….

Pinpoints and specks of light danced across his vision under the blindfold… He felt dizzy, lightheaded from not enough air…

He mumbled around the gag, using the last of his air…

“Y-y-yefff… Miffwefff…..” His eyes rolled back…..

Air flooded his lungs as her grip loosened around his throat. He breathed deep the cool air of the room, gulping it down, coughing and choking from behind the gag. The lights cleared from his vision, and he shook in his bonds.

“Good boy,” she cooed softly, a hint of warmth returning to her liquid voice. Her fingers softly brushed along his neck, sending chills down his spine. He leaned his head back, arching into her hand.

“I think,” she said slowly, ponderously, “that you need something here, my pet…”

A querying whimper filtered through his lips.

“Something that shows that I own you.” Her grip tightened again, but didn’t cut off his air supply. “After all… you did swear yourself to me. Said you would be my devoted little slaveboy….”

A memory flashed in his head… He did recall those words, just before he…. The memory got hazy, the images and sounds blurring in his head… Did he pass out after those words?

“…Didn’t you?” Her grip tightened, cutting off his air long enough to snap him back to the present.

He nodded rapidly, a strained whimper escaping around the gag. “Yefff, Miffweff!!”

Her grip loosened once more, fingers trailing along his neck, tracing small patterns before leaving entirely. He whimpered, trying to follow as far as his bonds would allow, then slumped back onto the sheets.

Weight shifted on the bed and he heard the unmistakable click of stilettos against the floor. She had stood up, and he could feel her gaze upon him still.

“Stay, pet. I’ll be back in a while to check on you.”

He felt her breath against his ear once more.

“And if you’re good,” she whispered, “I might put the collar on you.”

He squirmed in his bonds, toes curling.

“Would you like that, my pet?”

He nodded. “Yeff, Miffweff,” he mumbled around the hard rubber.

She laughed and caressed his cheek, whispering, “That’s a good boy…always wanting to please his Mistress….” He jumped as her hand slapped his face lightly. “Stay.”

Her hand left his face, leaving a tingle in his cheek, and he heard the click of her heels against the floor, walking away from him and the bed. The sound echoed in the bedchamber, keeping him disoriented.

The slam of a large, heavy door made him jump. His heart pounded as he heard the clattering of several locks…..

….then, silence. No other sound but that of his own heart and breathing.

He whimpered, fidgeting, tugging at his bonds, his cock still standing upright and hard.

He knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

“….mmmph….”

If you’d like to explore some aspect of femdom, then call me or, if you’d like to get to know me a little first, look for me in the chat rooms at communitykink.com. If you just want to hang out with friends, relax and listen to some music and erotic radio, then tune in to The Magic Bus at 10:00 pm EST on Sunday evenings.

EMPRESS CATHERINE: 800-601-6975

(Calls are $2.50 per minute, minimum of 10 minutes, billed to your credit card)
www.phonesexteasing.com and www.cuckoldfantasycalls.com

Speaking of Ms Constance, we had a fun time (as always) in our Hosted Chat today – “Happy Hour With Constance and Catherine”. The fetish for the day was foot/shoe fetish and we had lots of links as well as some interesting facts (and even gossip!) that Ms Constance manage to dig up for us. Join us next week to find out what the fetish of the day will be. Whether you’re a sissy, a cuckold, or if you’re into tease and denial, you’re sure to have a good time in Happy Hour! The fetish of the day may not be one that you enjoy, but it’s always fun to see what other people are into. Or is that just me?

Anyway, here’s a pic of my t-shirt (and riding crop!) – I love them both!

If you’d like to explore some aspect of femdom, then call me or arrange a text session through sexytexting.com or, if you’d like to get to know me a little first, look for me in the chat rooms at communitykink.com. If you just want to hang out with friends, relax and listen to some music and erotic radio, then tune in to The Magic Bus at 10:00 pm EST on Sunday evenings.

Empress Catherine 800-356-6169
www.phonesexteasing.com and www.cuckoldfantasycalls.com

NB: This story was written by little x – a favourite of mine from chat.

“I arrive home to find you on your knees, naked except for a small apron, your head bowed. I kiss the top of your head lightly as I drop my things on the floor next to you. Taking your chin in my hand, I raise your face up to meet my gaze. “It pleases me to see you waiting here just as I have instructed you” I murmur, “but I have had a very hard day so I’m afraid you’re going to have a hard evening”. Still holding your chin, I smile and then slap your face slowly and deliberately once, twice, three times. I see you trying to smile up at me through the tears that have sprung to your eyes and I watch with satisfaction as the redness from my slaps spreads all across your left cheek. “Put my things away and bring me a drink” I tell you as I turn and walk toward the living room. I know the sound of my high heels clicking on the ceramic tile floor gives you a special thrill as you scurry to do as you’re told.

After a very few minutes you reappear next to my chair holding a small tray and offer me my Irish whiskey just the way I like it. Although inwardly I marvel at how quickly you have performed this little service, I arch an eyebrow and demand that you get back on your knees with your face to the floor. After a long delicious swallow of my drink, I stand and walk around to inspect your upturned bottom. I see some faded marks from older punishments and a few distinct reddish lines from the short caning I gave you the day before yesterday. Making my choice quickly, I reach for the black riding crop from among the canes and other implements protruding from the umbrella stand next to my easy chair. Without hesitating, I slash the crop down on your bare backside five or six times in rapid succession. The sudden sharp pain takes your breath away, and you have no time to process the sensation or recover from one blow before the next one lands. I step back and smile as I see red blotches the shape of the spanker tip of my crop appear and then deepen in colour. Among them are three red lines where the braided leather of the rod made its punishing contact with your buttocks. I hear you whimpering softly, but you say nothing. The rush of dominance I feel from inflicting this punishment is so pleasurable that I place the palm of my left hand on the small of your back and bring the riding crop down across your bottom again and again, this time more slowly and deliberately, leaving three or four seconds between the strokes. Although this may seem to the uninitiated like a small kindness, I know that it multiplies your suffering by allowing you to feel the impact of each stroke more fully without giving you enough time to recover from the pain. Now you are crying although you still have not said a word since I began to punish you.

Placing the riding crop back into the stand, I sit back down in my chair and take another sip of my whiskey. “You may rise and thank me, Little One,” I say softly, and I watch with great satisfaction as you stand painfully and wipe the tears from your face before kneeling in front of me and expressing your sincere thanks for the punishment I have inflicted on you. “How else may I serve you, Mistress?” you ask with shining eyes. “My feet require your attention now,” I respond, and you immediately kiss the toes of my black stillettos. “May I take them off for you, Mistress?” you plead. “Of course, darling boy,” I reply. After you remove my high heels, your eyes drink in the luscious spectacle of me raising my skirt high enough to unfasten the garter straps from my black stockings and tantalizingly peel the stockings down my long shapely legs. I drop them in front of you. Your cock, hard ever since your physical punishment began, now rages even harder at the sight. You scoop the stockings up and raise them to your face, breathing in the intoxicating scent for just a second before taking my right foot in your hands and caressing it lovingly. You repeat this act of devotion on my left foot and then you begin the ritual you know I require of you. Slowly and sweetly you kiss and suck each of my toes until you hear me moan out loud with pleasure.

“That was very nice, pet,” I tell you, “and now it is time for the cane. Go and bend over the spanking horse. Would you like me to strap you down, or can you hold still tonight without being bound?” I am pleased to hear you decline the restraints, even though you know my question means that I intend to cane you long and hard, and that your answer means that I will require you to hold your own arse-cheeks apart for me to direct my cane vertically down your tender crack, including your most private little rosebud in the punishment. The combination of your humiliation, pain and submission will be intoxicating for me and perhaps unbearable for you by the time I have finished striping your backside until the welts have merged into a shiny red glow across every inch of your bare bottom. “You may cry all you want, little one, but can you bear it for me without trying to escape?” I ask without expecting a reply. We shall see, I tell myself with another shiver of sexual arousal, and so I begin again…”

little x

If this is your fantasy, or if you’d like to explore some other aspect of femdom – strap-on training , or cuckolding for instance – then call me or arrange a text session through sexytexting.com or, if you’d like to indulge in a little informal online chatting, look for me in the chat rooms at communitykink.com. If you just want to hang out with friends, relax and listen to some music, then tune in to The Magic Bus (my erotic radio show) at 10:00 pm EST on Sunday evenings.

Empress Catherine
800-356-6169
http://www.voxerotic.com/main.php?action=show&tease=138

]]> http://www.strokemistress.com/2009/02/hard-day-hard-night/feed/ 1 http://www.strokemistress.com/2008/11/spanked-at-the-party/ http://www.strokemistress.com/2008/11/spanked-at-the-party/#comments Mon, 10 Nov 2008 18:01:14 +0000 catherine http://www.strokemistress.com/?p=205 This is a special story written by “little x”. If you’d rather listen to me reading the words of little x then just click here…

As we walk up the front steps together, I lean over and say directly into your ear, “I let you come to this party with me as a special treat,

Continue reading Spanked at the Party

Join me tomorrow night for the latest in the Mistress parties. The theme’s going to be the Rocky Horror Show and I can’t wait to see what’s in store! All your favourite Mistresses will be there, and perhaps even some you’ve never met before. I’ll expect you in the communitykink.com chat room at 9 pm est – sharp! In the meantime, go to mistressmadness.com to find out about all the contests and prizes lined up. See you there…

Empress Catherine
800-356-6169
http://www.voxerotic.com/main.php?action=show&tease=138

You’re waiting behind the door when I get home – just the way you’re supposed to. I can see the slight quivering in your body as you take my coat and briefcase.

You ask me the usual banal questions, “How was your day?”, “How was the traffic?” and I see no need to answer you. I sit down on the special chair. The skirt of my tailored Italian suit rides up as I sit. The flush starts in your face and spreads down to your naked chest and belly. I cross one finely stockinged leg over the other and wait. You kneel before me and your glance travels up the length of my leg. My skirt has ridden up just enough so that you can see the edge of my stocking tops. Your mouth suddenly becomes dry as you try to lick your lips. You know better than to keep me waiting, and you begin to remove my shoe. You pause a moment to enjoy the sight of it dangling from my toe. You love the sensual arch of my foot don’t you? You remove the shoe and bury your face in it – inhaling the intoxicating aroma – the mingled scent of the fine leather, my foot, the exotic fragrance I always wear. The effect on your penis is instant and unmistakable. I laugh softly – my first acknowledgement of your presence – as you remove the other shoe. You long to plunge your hard cock into the soft, warm, aromatic recesses of the shoe but you know that’s forbidden. Instead you put the shoes aside and turn your attention to my stockings. Your breathing quickens. I’m aware that you’re inclined to take liberties at this point – but tonight I’m feeling lenient. You run your hands over my foot, my ankle and up to my calf. You touch the soft area behind my knee that you love so much. Your hands are shaking now as you unfasten the stocking and begin to slide it down my long silky leg. You remove the stockings and watch, entranced, as I flex and stretch my toes. You hold your breath – just how good a mood am I in? Will you be rewarded this evening for your devotion? I stretch my long white toes towards your hard cock and your breath quickens – your heart beats faster. The toes of one foot touch and curl around the tip of your penis while the other foot begins to rub the underside of your balls. The bliss overwhelms you. You are weak with pleasure and you begin to whimper in anticipation. Will I continue? It will only take another moment of such caresses to bring release. You look directly into my eyes for the first time this evening and see passion and desire. Your heart skips a beat. What is it I desire this evening – your release or your torment

If this is your fantasy, or if you’d like to explore some other aspect of femdom, then call me or arrange a text session through sexytexting.com or, if you’d like to indulge in a little informal online chatting, look for me at communitykink.com. If you just want to hang out will friends, relax and listen to some music, then tune in to The Magic Bus at 10:00 pm EST on Sunday evenings.

Empress Catherine
800-356-6169
http://www.voxerotic.com/main.php?action=show&tease=138

The gifts you buy me are mere bagatelles. This, this capitulation, is the true gift.

You keep telling yourself that I’m not inside your head, not in possession of your soul. Keep telling yourself that. Say it over and over again and one day it might be true. One day – but not this day. Not now. This power I have over you, this puissance is delicious – is it not? This subservience, the pain you so gladly accept, gives a new meaning to the word “strength”. The physical pain you endure is bitter sweet but even this is nothing to the torture you endure inside your head. Only when you’re alone with me in this room, only when you’ve been whipped to the limit of your endurance, and, perhaps, been allowed release, will your mind, your soul be at peace. You remember the past, when you were “free”. A time when there was no pain. Sometimes you look back at that time with nostalgia – thinking you want those days back. You could be free again tomorrow – the contract broken. But that’s not what you really want. That “freedom” will bring a different kind of pain – the pain of an addict deprived of his drug. You crave the denial as much as you crave the release – crave the release as much as you crave the pain. You know that without me inside your head the world would be a cold and lonely place. Without me in your heart, you would be like a child alone in the night. You know that the pain and the love are the same thing. That the pain I give you is a gift – a distillation of all those other – petty – pains in your life. And you know that as soon as you leave this warm, dark room, this cocoon, you will be free again – if you can call it freedom. So will you give it to me – the gift of your subservience? In return I will give you…

If this is your fantasy, or if you’d like to explore some other aspect of femdom, then call me or arrange a text session through sexytexting.com or, if you’d like to indulge in a little informal online chatting, look for me at communitykink.com. If you just want to hang out will friends, relax and listen to some music, then tune in to The Magic Bus at 10:00 pm EST on Sunday evenings.

Empress Catherine
800-356-6169
http://www.voxerotic.com/main.php?action=show&tease=138

I see you looking at me. That hot glance across the room – hot enough to burn me – if I were susceptible to such glances. But then, you don’t know any better. You’ve never seen me before. Never seen me in this dark old pub, almost hidden in the alley. You ask the barman what I’m drinking and send over another Bushmills. I barely glance at you as I drink it. But you’re more than glancing at me now. You’re devouring me with your eyes. My hair, my long crossed legs in silk stockings, my high heeled shoe dangling from the end of my toes. You try to catch my eye. Why won’t I look at you? You know you’re attractive. Normally, you can take your pick of any woman in any room. You’re so cocky, cocksure – cock-happy even.

I walk past your table as I head toward the door. As I pass, I look directly into your eyes for the first time – and you’re lost. The fragrance I leave in my wake leaves you breathless and you know you must follow. As the pub door closes behind you, you see me disappearing around a bend in the alley and you follow me – powerless to resist. At first you don’t see me – you don’t realise I’m there until you feel a hand at your crotch. A fierce, grabbing hand. I whisper in your ear – telling you not to resist – as if you could, as if you wanted to! I whisper other things. Taboo, forbidden things. Things that make you think I could see inside you from the first moment, that I know all your deep, dark secrets, your hidden desires. I push you face-first against the wall and start tugging down your pants. The hard, cold stone presses into your face. How is it you’re unable to resist? A big strong man like you being pushed around by a woman! But then, the power I have over you isn’t exactly physical, is it? Now I’m pushing you – pushing you down onto the ground. Surely I don’t expect you to kneel in this dark, filthy alley? Oh, but I do! There are noises in the darkness – soft furtive noises – and, beyond that, laughter and shouting from people leaving the pub. What if someone comes around the corner and sees you kneeling there – pants around your knees? It’s cold out here, the breath from the two of us combining into a cloud around us. Despite the cold, despite this strange, possibly treacherous situation, you feel your cock rising. I’m whispering in your ear again. Whispering words so obscene that you feel yourself blushing absurdly in the darkness. Words to make a sailor blush. And all the time I’m touching you. Touching your penis, your testicles, your buttocks, your tight little hole. Touching you so quickly that you’re unable to keep up with the sensations. You feel violated, afraid, humiliated, and yet deeply stirred and aroused. You’re made helpless by the conflicting emotions. You feel something pressing against your arse – something hard, persistent and you feel the stretch as I begin to fuck you with my strap-on. You try to protest, to scream, anything – but my hand is over your mouth and, really, do you want someone to come to your aid? I push again and and your head begins to swim as I slide my dildo relentlessly up inside you. The pain, the humiliation, the pleasure… Pleasure wins out as I begin a slow, even, stroking. You feel the orgasm building, your testicles tighten up and, just as the spurting starts, I pull away from you – withdraw and stand up and then, without a word, I’m gone. Leaving you panting, on your knees, spurting onto the ground. Alone. Fucked.

If this is your fantasy, or if you’d like to explore some other aspect of femdom, then call me or arrange a text session through sexytexting.com or, if you’d like to indulge in a little informal online chatting, look for me at communitykink.com. I can be found there on Sunday evenings at 10:00 pm EST hosting my radio show, The Magic Bus.

Empress Catherine
800-356-6169
http://www.voxerotic.com/main.php?action=show&tease=138

You feel as though you’ve been kneeling here for hours. Your knees hurt and the room’s cold enough to raise goosebumps on your naked flesh. You’re a grown man – you could get up and leave at any time – but you don’t. You could hate me for this – but you don’t. It really is a fine line, isn’t it, between love and hate – pleasure and pain? You could get up off your knees right now and walk out of here. Why don’t you then? But you know the answer that question the moment you ask it. The answer is because of Me – your Mistress. You know that you’d do anything, suffer anything, for the merest gesture from Me. An addiction? Possibly. But one so sweet that you never want to be cured.

Has it been hours or minutes that you’ve been kneeling here? No matter. Time has ceased to matter. You only exist in the now. Even the anticipation has melted away. There is only you in this room. And the waiting. You hear the door open. All your senses awaken. You hear My footsteps – the clicking of My heels on the hard floor – and your testicles tighten, your penis stirs. I stand in front of your bowed head – close enough for you to feel the heat from My body, to smell the heady fragrance of My perfume. Your breathing quickens. I speak no words. I pat your head and all thoughts of leaving are gone. With that single touch your will is surrendered to Me. I stroke your face with My fingertips and you moan softly. Something is touching your lips – something hard with the scent of rubber. You part your lips and I gently insert the tip of My dildo. You kiss, lick, suck. I walk behind you, stroking the length of your back. You shiver. I stroke and caress your buttocks and your penis hardens and swells. Your breathing is short and sharp now as you feel My fingertips – slippery now with gel – caressing the crease between your cheeks, touching the outer rim of the tight hole. A finger slides in and you cry out – not from pain but from a sense of relief – a sense of something beginning. You feel something larger, rounder pressing against the delicate tissue and you almost lose control. All your senses, your feelings, emotions are concentrated in that tight opening. You gasp as you feel the stretch. Joy runs through you as you anticipate the feeling – the feeling of fulfilment, the feeling of being full of your Mistress’s love, her very essence. The pleasure – and the pain. But the joy and the anticipation turn to something else as you feel Me withdraw – hear Me walk away and laugh as the door closes behind Me. And the waiting begins again…

If this is your fantasy, or if you’d like to explore some other aspect of femdom, then call me or arrange a text session through sexytexting.com or, if you’d like to indulge in a little informal online chatting, I can often be found at communitykink.com.

Empress Catherine
800-356-6169
http://www.voxerotic.com/main.php?action=show&tease=138

What can you expect from a call to the Empress Catherine? Well, if you’re looking for someone to shout at you, to verbally abuse you in the crudest terms, then you must look elsewhere. Oh yes, I can insult you if that’s what you wish, but there’s so much more. I’m not interested in your body, that poor pathetic shell, but your soul. Yes, I could beat you into submission with my cane – but where’s the fun in that – apart from the transient thrill of those stripes on your arse. No, what I want from you is a deeper subservience than that. I want you to kiss my pointed leather-clad toe because you want to. Because you long to. Because you yearn to. I want to be the Mistress you dream of at night. The Mistress you think of all day long. The Mistress who’s image is burned on your heart. Yes, there will be resistance at first. Your mind will be tortured by the thought of letting go, of giving yourself over to another. There will be pain and fear. There will be release. First will be the tears, then the semen and then afterwards, when you’re drained, cleansed and purified, I’ll take you in my arms, hold you against my bosom and dry your tears. Kiss your eyes, your face. The struggle will be over. You will be quiet and quiescent. Tranquility will wash over you in shades of palest grey, white and lavender and you will at last be at peace. You will experience bliss. Nirvana…

If this is your fantasy, or if you’d like to explore some other aspect of femdom, then call me or arrange a text session through sexytexting.com.

Empress Catherine
800-356-6169
http://www.voxerotic.com/main.php?action=show&tease=138