Behind the Scenes of Desire: mistress karin von kroft

Empty carriage, only the rhythmic clatter and mistress karin von kroft. She locks the door, strips, and straddles the seat facing the window. Moonlight paints silver across her skin as she chants “mistress karin von kroft” in time with the rails. Four fingers stretch her open; the wet slap echoes louder than the train. “Everyone outside, see mistress karin von kroft come,” she gasps. The train enters a tunnel—darkness swallows everything except her rising “mistress karin von kroft, mistress karin von kroft, fuck, mistress karin von kroft!” until she explodes, soaking the leather in a flood of unstoppable “mistress karin von kroft” release.