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It’s a few miles away, over near the airport.”“Good thinking. The air traffic control will make using helicopters harder.” He told her. “What exactly did his note say? Do you have it?”“He told me to destroy it, but I memorized what it said.” She smiled, “benefits of an eidetic memory.”She glanced around, and made a turn onto the road.“There was a guy standing there in a cop windbreaker.” She reported.“What did he do?” John asked.“Nothing, just watched us.”“Is he following?”She checked the mirrors. “Doesn’t look like it.”“Okay, what’s the next turn you need to make?”“About a mile down, there’s an on-ramp to the toll road.”“Then you need to turn before that.” He told her. “Go a different way.”“Crap, okay. Hold on.” She slowed and made a left at the next light. “I’m not sure where this goes.”Neither had any electronics, and they found themselves in a residential neighborhood.“Pull your hat off.” John instructed. “Can you put your hair into a pony tail through the hat strap?”She did that. She had been in the same position when he had dozed off. What a beauty she was! Those eyes! That mouth! Those lovely tits! And the colour and feel of her skin... superb.“Good afternoon, Princess,” he said lecherously.“M-Master...” said Carlotta. As always, she seemed to flinch fractionally at the use of her title.“Master indeed my girl,” said Quentin. His eyes roved over the superb body which was his to enjoy during his stay. What then should he extract from it that afternoon? He considered... then decided. “So I shall demonstrate my mastery, slave,” he continued. “Go to the second drawer and bring me the rod you will find there.”Carlotta’s sloe-eyes dilated fractionally with fear. She bit a fulsome lower lip. But she did not delay to obey. Contentedly, Quentin watched the girl’s prancing-stride and the delectable swing of her hindquarters. His, all his! The drawer was opened and Carlotta came back with the rod. It was the lightest, slimmest rod in Quentin’s whole collection, four.
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