The man crying out every time the whip hit his skin, and then begging for more after each smack. As the images invaded me, I began to feel something w...thin me that I had never felt before. A desire creeping in and working it’s way down my body. My heart quickened and my breathing became more rapid as I continued to think of my Mistress and the man that apparently loved what she was doing to him. It aroused me to see her that way, to see her with so much power. I could see myself in the man’s. He could do that.Running, he leapt onto a seat, then to a table near the door. With only a slight hesitation, he jumped from the small table to the door handle. The handle moved, but he fell off before it moved enough. Of course, being a cat, he landed on his feet. Without hesitation, he bounded back to the chair, then the table. Carefully, he concentrated on his landing place on the handle, and jumped. This time, he was able to hang on long enough for the handle to move downward and the lock. I'd arranged for movers to bring all of Martha's meager possessions from her mother's house to our new home. She'd been there all day with the moving men, arranging her new home as she pleased. I'd left her with the keys to my second car, a new silver Porsche, and had arranged for Jackie's apartment to be moved in as well by another crew of men. Jackie had her own car, a beaten-up old Mustang. Princess's car, given to her by her previous conquest, was sold off a while back and the Porsche. All rights reserved.He slipped into the room, gliding silently like a cat. Barely a sound, a wisp of a breeze. She was lying there as he knew he'd find her. She was asleep on her back, wearing just a pair of panties — nothing else. He smiled because that was how he expected to find her. She always slept like that. She shifted slightly in her sleep, the gentlest of moans escaping her lips. A heavy breath, perhaps. A fragment of a dream that wasn't quite enough to disturb her sleep.He could smell.