Dream #1

My regiment had fought and died those days in early July, 1944.
Yet when we finally entered Caen, tired half-starved people
began to cheer. Not only that, a few brazen and obviously
relieved civilians ventured forth and embraced and gave us
hastily picked flowers. Many civilians were weeping, more were
dazed from the fury of the fighting. I felt very inadequate,
most of the rubble that was left of the city, had been massed
bombed only the night before by the Allied airforce. The few
men under my command gave their share of cigarettes and rations
of food to the happy people. One young lad even handed me the
head off a home made doll, I hadn’t the heart to return it.

Our orders had come early that morning of the 9th, the Maquis,
the French Resistance were leading us to the objective. The
city offices. It was called “Operation Goodwood”, or by us
Canadians, “Operation Atlantic”. The “Operation” seemed a very
fancy word, in my little corner of the battle, I was given
objectives. And every one I fought very hard for, we took. Yet
as I walked through the rubble of the streets, looking upon the
thousands of refugees and huddled persons in dark corners and
under debris. My heart went out to them, was all this
destruction worth the lives that was taken. Sure the allies had
dropped leaflets to warn the city that it was about to be
bombed, but even as I walk down the streets and across mounds
that were once buildings, I often saw ugly grey bloated bodies.
Once we passed an emergency hospital, set up in a monks’
refectory, bodies were pilled outside it with little dignity,
inside the dim and chaotic interior could just be made out. I
was in hell!

Thankfully, the distance took little time. I stood behind a
corner of a windowless building and followed the pointing finger
of the Maquis guide. High in up in the building could just be
seen the shadow of crouched figure, a barrel sticking out the
door. A sniper! And no doubt, not alone. Unfortunately, most
of the Division was sent to the suburbs were large pockets of
German resistance held on. The average, sane infantryman hated
door-to-door fighting. It was a dangerous, hellious type of
fighting. So many obstacles, and around every corner could be
a sniper or a company of men just waiting to kill. Damn I
wished we had the armour that was promised us by the Brigade
Commander.

I had five men left in my section, and sent two around to the
right flank. I ordered two to wait and give cover fire as
needed, along with our resistance friend who was more than happy
with the prospect of killing Germans with his beat up Sten gun.
Myself and Corporal Dickson would enter the building.

As soon as the two of us began to dart across the clearing I
knew it was a mistake. I felt then heard the shots only when we
were half way through the yard. I was grazed by two bullets,
yet finally shot through the front door with barely a scratch.
Looking behind me, I saw Corporal Dickson laying upon the
cobblestones, dead. My men were returning fire, yet I held
little faith in that .

I was alone, with an objective ahead of me. Yet a large part of
me wanted to curl up into a ball and hide away. Thankfully my
duty and the job held my sanity together. Through several messy
rooms did I go. Moving double time, I quickly found a stair
going up. That was when I got lost! The rooms became darker,
the rooms tidier, yet still unclean. My body was exhausted,
with my kit strapped to my back and the cumbersome rifle in my
hands I soon had too stop to catch my breath. Somewhere above
me someone was still firing. I had to get the sniper, it was
either him or me.

As I stood catching my breath, I suddenly heard a couple of
voices, speaking German, I caught only a word here and their,
“mischbrot”, “wurstchen”, “kase”. If I remember correctly, they
were talking about food. Yet footsteps were coming closer.
Frantically, I quickly ran into the suite of rooms I was
standing next to. I found a locked door and effortlessly
smashed through it. I stood facing the door I just came
through, the broken lock hanging limply. I followed the sound
of the voices as they went passed the place I had been standing.
I heard them going up, their jack boots making harsh noises
against the tile and wooden floors.

Taking a breath I was about to continue with my assignment.
Then I heard something, more of a whimper. I spun around, my
rife pointing towards the sound. I saw nothing but a large desk
and several chairs and bookcases. But something had to be
there!

Slowly with soft step, I came around the edge of the desk. My
rifle pointing towards the hole under and behind the desk, the
only logical place for a person to be. I hoped it was just a
dog, or perhaps another type of animal that had crawled into
that small hole. Yet I saw it! A shape! A huddled, dirty
woman lay in the fetal position, her face hidden from me. What
the hell was I to do? I bent down my face coming closer to the
desk opening. She was shivering, perhaps in the damp morning
air, or from fear. The woman only wore a thin summer dress and
heels. What was she doing here?

With a gentle hand I placed my palm upon her arm hoping I could
calm her. Here was a human being, someone that had been
tormented by the German occupation and by the Allied air
strikes, how did I imagine I could calm her. I was cover in
combat gear, not a very calming sight I’m sure. I felt her warm
soft skin and she stopped shivering.

“Mlle, are you all right?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
I felt sick, I did not want to be there in that dirty room, with
enemies only a few feet away, while I tried to comfort a young
lady.

She spoke one word before looking up, “ministre?” I saw her
face slowly look out from behind the crock of her arm. I saw
her pretty round face, large scared eyes, full lips, small nose.
She was very pretty. The woman asked me a question, and I could
not understand a word. So I improvised, and told her my name,
Caesar, or rather my nickname. She told me hers, yet I could
not pronounce the French version so I shortened it to Sam.

Sam took her hands and arms from her face, sitting up as much as
that large desk allowed. Then she smiled at me! So you may
ask? Well, after the deaths of friends and the agony of
victory, it was almost too much. I saw her looking at my trouble
faced, and she began to cry. No I didn’t cry, but I still felt
the tears running down my cheeks. One of her hands reached out
daintily and wiped the tear from my face.

I sat upon the floor next to the opening of the desk, she knelt
next to me. With a motherly compassion, she bent forward and
kissed my wet cheek, her other hand holding my face steady.
God, I was confused, was I not supposed to be the victor, the
knight in shining armour? Yet here was this tiny attractive
woman who was stronger than I, comforting me. Upon the rest of
my emotions I felt shame.

Sam placed her cheek next to mine, holding me. When I finally
got hold of myself, I realized she held me in a death grip. She
was not going to let go. I turned my face towards her, our eyes
only six inches apart. “Please Mlle, I have to go. You must
understand, people are depending on me!” She closed her eyes
and kissed me. This time upon the lips, very softly and with
great amount of emotion. It was too much upon my trouble soul,
and I returned the unknown woman’s kiss. Sam was patient with
my hungry sadness. I forced her lips open with my own. My
tongue sliding into her mouth, finally coming in contact with
hers. My hand grasped her flimsy dress and I tore the remaining
buttons off the front, exposing her undergarments. I was hungry
for passion, for love. Yet for several years all I had known
was pain and death. The softness of a woman was almost
forgotten upon me, certainly how to touch a lady was alien was.

I stopped, thankfully before I had begun to rape her, my mind
finally taking control of my emotions. Sam surprised me, she
looked me straight in the eye with even more emotion and
compassion. She took her hands off me and began to disrobe.
Off came the ripped dress, her shoulders exposed. It hung about
its cord around her waist. Then she reached behind her and
undid the clasp for her bra, the undergarment fell to the floor
next to both of us.

Sam knelt, her back straight, looking right at me. I unashamed,
looked at her exposed skin. I fell for that unknown French
woman, I could see the imperfections of her flesh, but desired
all. She was a beautiful woman who had lived through years of
hell, why did she offer me this gift? I have never known.

Slowly she grasped my free hand and brought it to her chest, my
large palm cupping the firm roundness of her breast. Her nipple
began to harden under my rough hand, reminding me of the of love
I had lost because of this war. I was almost ran out of their
at that moment, yet only her eyes held me in place. She
withdrew her hand from mine, and I felt her fumble with the
front of my clothing. My webbing was undone, then the buttons
of my trousers and lower jacket. I was conscious of my unwashed
body, and almost began to laugh. To be worried about such a
thing sitting here in this ransacked building with Germans a
floor above me, and both of our bodies had not seen a bath for
many a week. I realized, finally, that the simple pleasures of
the flesh was not the reason that Sam was doing this. Perhaps,
like me, she needed to feel the closeness of another human, even
with the stench of war covering us.

A warm small hand held my hardness, forced it passed my boxer
shorts to point up out of my dishevelled clothing. I don’t
remember a moment when I had been more excited, or felt closer
to any person in my life. With anxious and deliberate movements
she knelt up then swung a knee and leg over my lap. Sam moved
her hanging skirt from between her legs and reached up with one
hand to move her undergarments aside. Her other hand held my
shoulder steadying herself, while her eyes never left mine.

During that time, I had placed both hands upon her full breasts.
I marvelled in the warm softness of woman, and wanted more. Yet
this time I was patient.

Sam sighed very loudly, just as I felt her warm wetness envelope
me. She sat upon my lap, locked together by more than sex.
She cupped her breasts in her hands, pointing that perfect
areola towards my salivating lips. I tasted her skin, reviling
in the hardness beneath my tongue. I alternated between the
globes, almost not noticing her slow movements up and down upon
my shaft.

Time went slowly, our movements more urgent. My lips had left
her breasts and found her hungry mouth. Our tongues danced to
the beat of our joining. I marvelled at her wetness, wanted to
see it, yet her skirt hid everything. The moisture contained
their was making erotic wet noises. She began to moan deep down
in her throat and I forced my tongue into her mouth to silence
her in the most polite way I knew how. She accepted my gift.

Before I realized what was going on, Sam froze, with only the
unknown joined portions quivering and spasming delightfully upon
me. I spent a great tribute to this unknown woman, flooding her
with my seed. She squealed with pleasure, feeling the warm
liquid hit deep inside her, filling her up. Her hips wiggled
wonderfully, bringing a groan from my lips.

It was over.

Sam lay over me, spent as I. Slowly the sounds that surrounded
us began to reach me. I could hear the sounds of treads, the
tanks that had been promised to my section. I had to leave this
woman, yet that was the hardest thing I had yet to do in my
short years. I gently moved her off me, and told her to stay
under the desk. When it was over I would return, what then, I
don’t know?

I stood ready, my soul finally cured of its afflictions. Yet
again, it almost broke. The look in her eyes as I was only
steps away from the door to this room was enough to fill my
heart with foreboding. I must do my duty, if not for my
commanders then for her. I would return!

Swiftly without looking back I left her, soon finding the stairs
going up. Silently I reached the top, through the rubble I saw
five Germans smoking and laughing. One was on watch looking out
the large window. I could not understand what they said, yet I
didn’t care. I blamed them for causing Sam her pain, I wanted
to hurt them. Taking careful aim, I shot two before the others
even reacted. My position upon the stair, looking over the edge
of the floor, gave me good cover. And I was able to wound
another soldier. Then the wall behind the remaining Germans
blew wards, killing them instantly and showering me with debris.
One hit me very hard and I as knocked senseless.

Confusion was what I awoke to, around me a sea of brown and
green uniforms. A doctor knelt next to my prone body, examining
my head wound. “A scratch really, though head wounds do bleed
a lot.” He quickly left me to attend another fallen comrade.
In only hours I was again with my section, as they sat with the
tank crew in front of that building I knew so well. With barely
a glance at my men I entered the cleared building, finding
nothing.

Sam was gone!

-*-

Dream #2
========
by Caesar(92)
(upon request from Samantha)

I do have limits! I mean I am a crook, sure, but that does not
mean I would do many other illegal activities. Even thieves
have a code of honour, if you will. What am I talking about?

Well, I had a job to do. My business partner would case out a
place, usually posing as a salesman or a meter reader, and it
was my job to go in and empty the joint. Easy! And it usually
is, except for this one time. Now I don’t carry a gun, but just
a knife for cutting away cords, or jimmying stuck cabinets. So
I always try to B&E while the occupants are not home. I was
already in the house, a normal middle-class dwelling which was
chosen for my exploits because of the amount of toys.
Electronic toys. Excellent turn-over value. This job would
bring me personally over a thousand bucks!

Yet this job was not so easy!

There was someone in the house. A temptation that would perhaps
have beguiled a less ethical man. A totally unforeseen disaster
could happen if I didn’t get out very quick. I was upstairs
going through the main bedrooms drawers and closets and had
already collected several pieces of jewelry. The sound from
downstairs was unmistaken, a woman was crying! I almost shit my
drawers, my partner had assured me the place was empty, the
family had left for the evening. I suddenly pictured myself
cuffed in the back seat of a police cruiser, not a vision I
wanted fulfilled.

To get out of the house, I had to go back downstairs. I may be
a thief but that doesn’t mean I can climb! Nor did I bring
rope. Damn, damn, damn, damn!

Moving as fast as I could while still stepping softly I crept
downstairs. I saw a flickering light that was not there when I
entered the house. It was the fireplace in the large living
room that was giving that eerie red glow. It certainly was not
there when I had left, perhaps someone returned home without my
hearing. Doubtful but possible.

I still stood on the stairs but could see into the large
immaculate living room. A person lay upon the floor, the sound
of her crying louder. She was not crying loudly, but weeping to
herself, yet in this quiet house the sound was very deafening.
My muscles shook with fear, my hands were sweaty and my teeth
ground together.

Finally I reached the bottom of the stairs and snuck another
peek at the woman before I would exit from the front door and
run like hell. I saw an attractive small woman, dressed very
nicely, laying upon the floor facing the fire. From my angle I
could see the tears upon her cheeks, and her sad round face. My
heart went out to her, but what could I do? If she saw me, off
to the big house for sure! I creeped to the door of the living
room and watched her for a bit more. If she was OK, then I would
leave. In that light I could see everything, though with a
reddish glow, even the wine glass half-filled sitting next to
her. I studied the profile of the lady. And that was what she
was – a lady; older perhaps early thirties, she had that cuddly
appearance that attracted me, she wore professional conservative
clothing yet still very feminine, short blond hair that radiated
the irregular light.

It was time to leave. I’m not sure how long I stood there, but
it had to be about ten minutes. Karma I expect. When I was
about to turn and go, I realized she was looking right at me!

Her eyes wide in surprise, I didn’t see fear, she stared
directly into mine. I realized I should have put on a mask or
bellacaluva when I heard someone in the house. “I..I won’t hurt
you.” I realized I must look fearful, black pants and shirt,
black leather gloves and runners, and a duffle bag under an arm.
One of her dainty hands came up and wiped a cheek dry. “I’m
sorry for everything…I will leave now…”

I stepped back one pace then froze upon hearing her voice.
“Don’t go!” A voice filled with desperation and surprise. Yet
surprisingly still no fear. I would have still turned tail and
run if not for those two words. Why would she ask me to stay?
Were the police on their way already? Perhaps she had a gun
trained upon me? I froze in fear and astonishment.

I turned back in time to see her wipe the other cheek dry. She
mumbled, “I’m sorry…” She surprised me again? Was I not the
intruder, the crook, the thief? It was obvious she did not fear
me. “My name is Samantha,” she stood awkwardly since her skirt
hindered the movement, “please come in and sit down.” She
motioned towards a large comfortable couch. I was struck
silent, but followed mutely her commands. I sat looking into
her pretty face, and saw her smile. A happy, honest and earnest
smile, filled with trust and something else? From my seat I
could smell her perfume, I know not the name but it filled my
head and caused my heart to flutter.

Samantha took a seat next to me, about a foot distant, easily
within arms distance. Her soft eyes met mine and I melted in
her look. Perhaps she was stalling for the cops, yet something
in the ladies manner suggested I was wrong. She asked quietly,
politely, “What is your name?”

I didn’t want to tell her the truth, it could be used against me
in a court of law. So I gave her my nickname, the one used by
my business acquaintances, “Caesar.” She reached out and took
my hand held it firmly in her warm grasp. I of course let her,
yet knew at any moment I could overpower this small woman and
leave. But who was in power here? At that moment I
contemplated forcing myself upon her. And I quickly discarded
the notion, the lady was above that, even above me. And as I
have said, I do have limits. One of those is that I will steal,
but never hurt a person intentionally or otherwise. “I should
go!” Indeed I should!

She held me more firmly, “No please stay!” I knew she would let
go if I insisted. I didn’t. Samantha hung her head, looking
down at her lap, almost in shame. To my distress her smile was
gone. “I want you to make love to me.” So quiet I’m sure I
must have mistaken her words. After several seconds of silence,
she looked up into my eyes, her look hard. “Here on the floor,
make love to me here.” I looked down at the large fur rug,
perhaps a polar bear. Then let my eyes wander over the older
woman’s form, she lifted her chin and waited for my inspection
to end.

Of course I wanted her, I was a young male after all. But I was
crude, used to the streets, the women of he gutter. What did I
know about “making love”, in my world we called it sex or just
f%$*ing!

Yet in the end I pulled my hand from hers and placed it upon her
right bosom. Was their any doubt reader? Samantha closed her
eyes and sighed deeply. Soon both hands were gently caressing
and fondling the round soft breasts. She wore a silk pearl
colored blouse, loose, and a brassier underneath. And yet her
nipples were very visible, they also poked into my palm exciting
me beyond her earlier words. Both hands trembled when I placed
them upon her lap, and began to worm then up her taunt skirt.
Though my gaze was fixed to the placement of my hands, I saw out
the corner of my eye as she began to slowly unbutton her blouse.

Nirvana, the lady wore stockings! The type with garters and all
the fixings. I felt the heat of her bare upper thigh as the
tips of my fingers reached skin. Now I knew even if the police
were outside, I would not care. For this moment was foremost in
my mind. Nothing else mattered.

I pulled my hands out from the tight confines of her skirt and
began to help her with the blouse. Soon it was off, thrown upon
the floor behind the couch. Her bra was unclasped from the
front, and her breasts moved with delight to be unconfined. My
mouth watered! She stood up before me, her hands reaching
behind her to undo the white skirt, it fell to the floor very
quickly. Her hands reached for her garter belt but I
intercepted her and nodded no. I wanted her to keep the white
stockings on, they pleasured my visual senses immensely.
Samantha smiled knowingly and hooked a thumb under the corners
of her panties. Again I stopped her.

She looked down at me in surprise as I bent forward and planted
a kiss upon her white silk undergarment. I could taste her
moist pleasure soaking the silk, the smell intoxicating, the
heat overpowering. My head swam. She groaned as my lips
touched her, almost begging with that one sound for another.
Again my lips touch the fine fabric, and this time I noticed the
discoloration from it being wet. Samantha’s small hands
intertwined in my hair and held my head, she wanted more. Yet
so did I.

Using my teeth, I pulled the left side of the panty down to mid-
hip. I immediately moved to the other side, and pulled it down.
Moving to the center, my nose already within a bush so fine and
thick that I am amazed I found the strength to continue. My
teeth pulled her panties to her lower thighs, where they fell
promptly to her knees. I had noticed a length of her excitement
trail behind the panties which finally broke after a length.
This lady did indeed want a lowly man like myself! She now
stood clothed the way I most desired her, she was beautiful!

“Lay upon your carpet Samantha.” An order, yet it brought a
huge smile to her face and prompt response. She lay upon her
back, her legs slightly spread, her knees bent, her hands
running up and down her thighs and across her stomach. Her eyes
followed me intently, waiting!

I stood over her, my hands quickly undoing my shirt, then my
shoes and my pants. I saw one of her hands cup a breast and I
slowed down forcing her to wait. As I inched my pants down my
long legs, bending over so she had not seem my sex yet, I also
watched her. The lady was wiggling her bottom in her
impatience, her hand upon her breast was molding it to her
desires, the other was scratching with nails upon those warm
soft thighs and stockings. I stood straight!

Of course the preceding events had excited me and my pole was at
its height. Her gasp of thankful pleasure very loud, as I took
two steps and stood over her prone body, my legs straddling her
waist. Samantha looked straight up into my charms, then quickly
stole a glance at my face, and back down. I stoked my throbbing
member gently, mostly for effect. She lifted her back off the
rug and rolled to either side, hungry for what was next. The
reddish glow illuminated us devilishly. I thought the she
looked positively delightful and very yummy. Yet I held off for
perhaps a moment, teasing both of us.

Taking my time I slowly ended up kneeling between her thighs
which she had spread to accommodate me. Soon I was on all
fours, my hands to either side of her chest. With minute
precision my object of desire engulfed my raging stallion within
its wet folds. I sank to the hilt, gasping in the initial
pleasure. Samantha’s hand came up, one to hold the back of my
neck, the other to grasp my tight buttock. She set the rhythm
for our coupling.

I know not if I was making love, but I tried, both for her sake
and mine. It was the most intense and pleasurable experience in
my twenty years. For this I would go to jail for an uncountable
period.

The speed of our love was slow, our sex joining softly, the tip
of my pole exiting her confines before again entering. Again
and again. In all truthfulness I know not how long we continued
in this fashion, nor did I care. At one point, I arched my back
and tasted upon the hard little buds of her nipples. The taste
intoxicating, and very stimulating. There would not be much
longer for my explosion, I was amazed that I lasted this long
with the fine lady. When she lifted her stocking covered legs
and wrapped them around my waist, that was too much! Both her
arms encircled my head and neck, then she began to move below
me. Faster with every thrust, we accelerated desperately, with
almost magic. I believe I held her body completely as she
lifted herself off the ground and moved in time to me.

I was the first to finish. My orgasm shot through me like a
bolt of energy that drained me very quickly. I barely even
noticed that she had screamed out and began to thrash and buckle
beneath me. Samantha clung to me in passion while both of our
bodies went through a simultaneous passion release. Both of our
muscles quivered in delight and exhaustion as we fell to the
ground, neither of us with a reserve of energy left.

The fire crackled and snapped lazily, inciting me to fall asleep
within my new lovers arms, both still locked by our tired
organs. I held her body completely as she lifted herself off the
ground and moved in time to me.

I was the first to finish. My orgasm shot through me like a
bolt of energy that drained me very quickly. I barely even
noticed that she had almost screamed out and began to thrash and
buckle beneath me. Samantha clung to me in passion while both
of our bodies went through a simultaneous passion release. Our
muscles quivered in delight and exhaustion as we fell to the
ground, neither of us with a reserve of energy left.

The fire crackled and snapped lazily, inciting me to fall asleep
within my new lovers arms, both still locked by our tired
bodies.
The remaining narrative of this story is not very interesting –
I left the lady sleeping beautifully upon that large white fur
rug, her body still glistening by the flickering of the dying
firelight. I stole away and never saw her again. But I still
wonder?!

-*-

Dream #3
========
by Caesar(92)
(upon request from Samantha)

My desires do run a little different than what some
consider “normal”. Yet I’m not alone, a large
underground full of people are into my own kink. Normal,
everyday people. With middle-class families and kids,
yet their desires do also run very slanted.

Samantha was such a person. Her life was what I would
call “regular”, at least the little I knew about it. To
tell the truth I’m not even sure if Samantha is her real
name? I had only met her upon the busy rush-hour transit
an hour ago. And here she was standing in my basement.

With amusement I watched her look around at the toys and
articles of my kink. I watched her moist tongue lick
along her already moist lips, a very arousing sight. Her
hands kept clenching and unclenching her briefcase, which
was also crossed before her as a if it was a shield. I
enjoyed her nervousness and uncertainty. It was my game.
Samantha was dressed very business-like, yet I had no
idea what she did, nor did I care. Tonight would be for
pleasure not business.

“I don’t think I could do this.” She said, her eyes
unable to come off one wall, which I called the “dungeon”
side. I gave no reaction nor did I deny her exit to my
hideaway. The ground rules were already set before she
had stepped into my house. She could leave any time, and
I will not object or stop her. But while she was down in
my basement she was mine!

We were strangers, I assumed her desires were stronger
than her common sense about strange men on transit
trains. Why else would she be here? Many of my new
women were exactly like her. Samantha was a lost flower
in the wind and I am about to grasp her into my firm
grasp.

If you had not guessed it by now, I am a dominate(dom)
and Samantha was to be my current submissive(sub). My
“slave” if you will!

I gave her time to look around. Knowing, that waiting
for my first order to be given was harder than the actual
execution. Not for all, of course, but the unknown sub
was very nervous. Action may or may not cure that. Did
she have a husband at home? Perhaps even waiting for
her? I didn’t care.

“Take your clothes off Samantha.” A simple statement,
spoken quietly and an air of non-compromise. The sub
took a deep breath then dropped her briefcase to the
floor at her feet. She turned around towards me and
brought both hands to her throat to unclasp the broach
pinned there.

The game was afoot!

I leaned back against a wooden work horse, sanded down
for special uses, and openly admired the small woman.
The one piece dress took very little time to fall to the
floor around her ankles. Her shoes, hose, bra and
panties followed. She finally stood straight determined
to continue with the game, daring me to look upon her
nakedness.

“Let your hair down and take your earrings out.” A
little surprised she pulled out the gold studs, the hair
clasp also was undone very quickly.

Few people can stand naked in a warm damp dungeon and not
feel just a little nervous especially with a stranger
watching minutely. I let the silence hang for almost
three minutes, while I scrutinized her body. The hard
nipples, the full bush between her legs were
complimentary in terms of what was to come next. She was
a tiny woman, with small round face and a cute small
nose. The smile she wore when she first came down my
stairs was gone, now she bit the bottom of her lip.

“Turn slowly,” she followed my directions, and I saw her
small tummy, her round buttocks, “stop.” Her back was
facing me. I was presented with what I considered one of
the most attractive features upon a woman. The buttocks
and legs. Both of which were very attractive upon this
lady.

I considered asking her to bend over to allow me a formal
view, but dropped it when she began to speak. “I don’t
w…”

I snapped, “Quiet!” After a deep sigh I explained, “as
a slave you don’t speak without permission. Do you
understand?”

“Yes.” Her voice was quivering slightly. Excellent!

“You will address me by my the name Caesar. Again do you
understand?”

“Yes Caesar!” She sounded determined. This was the part
of my program where a woman will have second thoughts and
leave. I half-expected this early thirtyish woman to do
just that. She had a strong will, but as a dom I know
they were also the most fun to break.

I again appraised her backside for a full five minutes,
until her body was trembling beyond control. Her torso
was shivering as if chilled. What to do with this lady?

“In front of you slave is a rack, take out the leather
stick with the straps attached to the end.” She walked
over and returned, her eyes wide and looking upon the
horrifying object. Samantha was an intelligent woman,
she knew what the object was for.

She stood in front of me and I took the cat from her
hand. “Don’t move.” Still leaning against the horse I
pressed the hard tip of the cat into her body. The butt
rubbed along the round soft cheek to her chin. Then down
to her chest and up the firmness of her breast. I took
my time with everything, knowing the pleasure for both of
us will be easily compounded the longer we waited. She
shivered very violently as the hard end flicked her tight
hard nipple. I didn’t tarry but continued down her
smooth white skin to her belly button. Again I left that
area and ventured to her waist and hip, running up and
down the marvellous contour. The butt ran along her skin
to her knee where it quickly slide to the inside of her
leg. I watched her face as the end of the handle ran up
along the inside of her thigh, the extremely soft and
inviting skin shivering against the hard leather.
Samantha bite the bottom of her lip, her eyes closed
awaiting the inevitable. I didn’t press it to her sex,
instead I flicked her thick curly hair with it. Only for
a second, let her have a taste and she will come back for
more.

“Turn around slave.” She did, her muscles quivering so
much that it seemed difficult for her to follow my
instructions.

Very gently I placed my palm upon her round right buttock
that faced towards me. “You are a very attractive lady
Samantha,” she of course didn’t say anything, my hand
working up into the crack of her bottom, “yes, you are a
very exciting slave.”

“Thank you Caesar.”