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Where the bed was a playing field for games that had no rules but those that Catherine the Great invented on a whim and changed without warning.The corridors of the Kremlin echoed with her footsteps, the diamonds on the soles of her shoes clacked on the pavement of marble as she went through the wide doors of the throne room. A few guards, matchlocks at the ready, halberds dipped to the ground in respect, stood like statues as she went to the inner depths of that porphyry palace.Part II--------Bed is too small a word for the playground that Catherine allowed to dominate the high ceilinged room where she acted out her games. Massive bog-oak, from the Pripet Marshes and a deep layer of raw silk in linen coverlet that offered sweet repose for Catherine. Soft and beckoning it seemed to her but it was a place where only the Empress gained gratification. For all others who participated it was by turn heaven and hell.Gold chains and fetters hung ready for use and bejeweled whips hung by. ” “Well, you’re close enough to being a man now that I can give you what you've really wanted for a couple years now.” I looked at her, a question in my eyes, what could she be talking about? She was chuckling as she continued, “You’ve been trying to peek up my skirts and down my blouse since you were sixteen years old, and now I think you’re old enough to get your wish. But it ain’t completely free, you gotta give something in return.” “Huh?” I was blushing at being caught and confused about where she was heading. “You want to see what I’m hiding under these clothes, right?” still chuckling. “Uh, yeah, sure.” Now I was getting excited. “All right, you get your wish, but you have to show me what you’re hiding under yours. Agreed?” Shit yes, agreed, I’d walk barefoot through her shit to get a look at her ass, though that ain’t what I told her. “Uh, yeah, sure,” I repeated. In less time than it took to type this, Mother’s dress was over the back of her chair and she stood there in her.
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