Catherine's Girl

Silently she held a sanitary napkin box before me. I slipped off my condom and dropped it into the box.

"Kiss me, Princess." She turned her back to me, bent over slightly, and presented her glossy-covered ass. When I gripped the hem of her dress to pull it up, her delighted, surprised giggle made me want to make love to her. "You may do that after dinner. For now, simply show me you know your place."

I pressed my mouth against the slick latex covering her derriere and stuck my tongue into the stretchy material as far as it would go.

"Oh, Princess! I am so pleased with you!"

I stood up. "I'm glad you found me."

"And now I own you completely." Her demeanor told me she played for keeps.

"If you hadn't taken my heart, I would have given it to you."

"You don't get it. Your ass is mine. I video recorded you putting on my clothes."

"The large mirror is a one-way mirror," I realized. "And you also got off watching me. That's why your hand was wet."

"You put on a hot show! Martin is making copies now. If you don't agree to be my wife..."

"You mean husband."

"No, my wife. You'll do all the work, and I'll take all the credit."

I visualized how pathetic I must have looked—especially thrusting my face into Mrs. Roman's girdle. "If I refuse you, I'm screwed."

When she took me in her arms, I knew she owned me, even if she didn't blackmail me. "Considering that I'm Catherine the Great," she cooed, "if you do become my wife, you'll be royally screwed."