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He deludedly thought that he loved Ariana and that, somehow, that love was returned. What a fool! When Lilly gave Jay the news that he was to be temporarily disposed of, he forgot his place and protested.Ariana responded to this appropriately. Jay was chastised more severely than usual and was, for the first time, made to realize that he was of no more value than the others. Ariana, puffing on one of her larger cigars, blew her smoke forcefully into his mouth and slapped him hard when he coughed."Fuck you, you pervert. You chose this life and you are now mine to do with as I want. You are worthless and will be treated as the chattel that you are. You are going to be loaned to Mistress Caitlen, the most sadistic of my friends--if I hear one thing about your behavior that I don't like, you will be sold to her permanently. Open your mouth, you pussy."The cigar ash was deposited on Jay's tongue and the night continued in the same fashion, with Jay being pegged by both Ariana and Lillie. I was dressed in new slacks, fine cotton shirt, and a sports coat. To her I would appear to be an office drone from somewhere in her building having car issues. I did not expect her to recognize me from my time working there since I changed my appearance somewhat by getting a haircut and wearing a pair non-prescription eye glasses. There was nothing menacing or threatening to create suspicion or fear. As Tiffany approached her car, she put the phone away and started looking for her keys in her purse. I made my move. Excuse me maam. Would you happen to have some jumper cables? I said. Judging by the expression on her face, she did not want to be bothered. Surely, she must have been eager to get in her car and get to the gym for her daily workout. Another fact, my observations had revealed. It did not matter to me what her response would be, I just needed a reason to approach her. Once within reach, I dashed at her and pinned her against her car before she could even responds to my.
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”“Yeah, right, how will you know? Can you see her in one of the windows or something?”I looked at Vanessa, who was grinning.“If she’s in residence,” I said, without taking my eyes off Vanessa, “then the Royal Standard will be flying. If not, it’ll be a Union Jack.”“Oh. Right.” He paused then said, “Isn’t that, like, a security risk or something?”I turned and said, “What do you mean?”“Well, terrorists can look at the flag and know if the Queen’s there, so they’ll know if it’s worth attacking or not, won’t they?”I didn’t answer.“Where will she be if she’s not here? I thought this was her home?” asked Imogen.“She’s got more than one home,” said Vanessa. “She might be at Balmoral or something.”“Actually, she’s got three official homes and three or four private ones,” I said. “This time of year, she might still be at Sandringham, where they spend Christmas, or she could be at Windsor Castle, which is her official weekend residence. I think. I know it’s something like that.”As it turned.

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