I write this review three months after my December 9, 2005, tickling session with the celestial Mistress Kassandra http://mistresskassandra.com/, New York City dominatrix. Those who have read my previous reviews of Kassandra may know I have never taken this long to post. And I always provide more details than I am about to here.
While Mistress Kassandra is as wonderful as ever in our 12/9/05 session, a multitude of personal problems and commitments continue to eat my time, like the Blob devouring Steve McQueen’s hometown. But not wanting to wait any longer to post a review, albeit one of only highlights and special points of interest, I at least want to say:
Nine inches of snow falls the day of our early evening 12/9/05 appointment. Speaking to Mistress Kassandra via telephone, I confirm that we can both still make it. While we had exchanged voice mail messages before, this is the first time Kassandra and I speak live on the phone. Face to face, Kassandra's speech has to compete with the sensations of seeing her and touching her. But via telephone, Kassandra's discourse works me up. Her voice commands and intoxicates me.
The title of the role-play for our 12/9/05 tickling session is The Winner Tickles All: Mistress Kassandra and I agree to make a bet where the winner gets to tickle the loser for an hour. Tuning in to a television broadcast of a New York Yankees baseball game, I say I will predict what's going to happen with whoever is batting at that point in the game. I'll guess whether the batter will strike out, ground out, hit a single, double, or so on. Kassandra takes the bet, realizing the odds are in her favor -how lucky could I be to predict what the batter will do?! But I correctly predict what will happen and proceed to tie down and tickle Mistress Kassandra – until a phone call interrupts us. When Kassandra mentions to the caller that the Yankees are playing baseball in this lousy weather, the caller informs her no one plays baseball in December. Caught, I explain the broadcast was a "repeat," a game the Yankees had played months ago. Knowing Kassandra knows nothing about sports, I had memorized what happened in the game by looking it up on the Yankees web site. Kassandra tickles and spanks me for the remainder of the session.
Mistress Kassandra wears a black vinyl (or some such material) black top and matching thong for this session. Sitting here writing, thinking about how she looked in it, I have an erection.
For this session, Mistress Kassandra books us in a room with a special torture table she describes as “good for tickling.” It is indeed a devilishly designed apparatus, as the leg and arm restraints swivel, giving the tickler close access to the victim.
Mistress Kassandra needs to leave the room for a moment. Walking away, she glances back and catches me staring at her thong-donned behind. Returning, Kassandra backs into the room, giving me a bonus look at her luscious backside.
But(t) the most beautiful sights of the session come from Mistress Kassandra’s comely countenance: 1) In the phone call where she realizes I set her up, she gives me a “gotcha” grin, which conveys more about the cruelty she is about to administer than words could. 2) Allowing me to worship her rear and and feet at session’s finish (and I do mean finish), at one point Kassandra smiles while I kiss her soles, and I know what Heaven looks like.
Punishing me for tricking her, rather than strap me down Mistress Kassandra puts me over her knee, spanking and tickling me. Glancing above my shoulder, I see enthusiasm in her eyes as she whacks my thong-exposed buttocks.
To lessen my behind’s blush after the session, Mistress Kassandra applies a salve. As I start dressing, she decides to apply a second coating. Damn, my ass is the last thing a woman wants to see, yet Kassandra is so caring she pays enough attention to it to notice how red it is!
Chatting before we part, Mistress Kassandra gushes about the many BDSM devices housed in the dungeon where she works. How fitting that this attentive mistress notices the thought that went into the establishment.
While Mistress Kassandra is as wonderful as ever in our 12/9/05 session, a multitude of personal problems and commitments continue to eat my time, like the Blob devouring Steve McQueen’s hometown. But not wanting to wait any longer to post a review, albeit one of only highlights and special points of interest, I at least want to say:
Nine inches of snow falls the day of our early evening 12/9/05 appointment. Speaking to Mistress Kassandra via telephone, I confirm that we can both still make it. While we had exchanged voice mail messages before, this is the first time Kassandra and I speak live on the phone. Face to face, Kassandra's speech has to compete with the sensations of seeing her and touching her. But via telephone, Kassandra's discourse works me up. Her voice commands and intoxicates me. The title of the role-play for our 12/9/05 tickling session is The Winner Tickles All: Mistress Kassandra and I agree to make a bet where the winner gets to tickle the loser for an hour. Tuning in to a television broadcast of a New York Yankees baseball game, I say I will predict what's going to happen with whoever is batting at that point in the game. I'll guess whether the batter will strike out, ground out, hit a single, double, or so on. Kassandra takes the bet, realizing the odds are in her favor -how lucky could I be to predict what the batter will do?! But I correctly predict what will happen and proceed to tie down and tickle Mistress Kassandra – until a phone call interrupts us. When Kassandra mentions to the caller that the Yankees are playing baseball in this lousy weather, the caller informs her no one plays baseball in December. Caught, I explain the broadcast was a "repeat," a game the Yankees had played months ago. Knowing Kassandra knows nothing about sports, I had memorized what happened in the game by looking it up on the Yankees web site. Kassandra tickles and spanks me for the remainder of the session. Mistress Kassandra wears a black vinyl (or some such material) black top and matching thong for this session. Sitting here writing, thinking about how she looked in it, I have an erection. For this session, Mistress Kassandra books us in a room with a special torture table she describes as “good for tickling.” It is indeed a devilishly designed apparatus, as the leg and arm restraints swivel, giving the tickler close access to the victim. Mistress Kassandra needs to leave the room for a moment. Walking away, she glances back and catches me staring at her thong-donned behind. Returning, Kassandra backs into the room, giving me a bonus look at her luscious backside. But(t) the most beautiful sights of the session come from Mistress Kassandra’s comely countenance: 1) In the phone call where she realizes I set her up, she gives me a “gotcha” grin, which conveys more about the cruelty she is about to administer than words could. 2) Allowing me to worship her rear and and feet at session’s finish (and I do mean finish), at one point Kassandra smiles while I kiss her soles, and I know what Heaven looks like. Punishing me for tricking her, rather than strap me down Mistress Kassandra puts me over her knee, spanking and tickling me. Glancing above my shoulder, I see enthusiasm in her eyes as she whacks my thong-exposed buttocks. To lessen my behind’s blush after the session, Mistress Kassandra applies a salve. As I start dressing, she decides to apply a second coating. Damn, my ass is the last thing a woman wants to see, yet Kassandra is so caring she pays enough attention to it to notice how red it is! Chatting before we part, Mistress Kassandra gushes about the many BDSM devices housed in the dungeon where she works. How fitting that this attentive mistress notices the thought that went into the establishment.
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(baseball in December!) 
all's well that ends well!
