She reached back to pull my legs up to my chest and had the stranger move around the bed. I couldn't hear anything so wondered if this was all set up...prior. I felt the man lower my panties further exposing my cheeks then stick a cold cylinder into my rectum. As I began to protest, my mistress told me it's just ice and to relax as her pleasure for tonight was for me to fulfill her fantasy of having a submissive whose only concern was for her whims no matter what happened to him. I was told. “Come on, my bed’s too cold for just one person.” Katrina often spoke this way to me, despite the fact that we were not intimate. She was the type of woman who liked to get men riled up, sliding her hands across their thighs and pressing her breasts against them on the dance floor-- whispering seductively in their ears that she had to get back to her girlfriend. Katrina was my mind-blowingly, heart-stoppingly beautiful, lesbian boss and best friend of three years. The strange relationship. More

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