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Pettibone refused to pay. He took his daughter home and made her undress in front of him. "You may have talked that Dr. Rooker into thinking you're normal, but you haven't convinced me." He brandished his leather belt. "Lay down across my knee, young lady, and take what you have coming to you." Oh, Daddy," she moaned, secretly enjoying the idea, "do I have to?" It's for your own good," he said, trying not to eyeball his daughter's supremely luscious chest. "If I don't give you a good licking," he added, "you'll grow up thinking that masturbation is alright. I don't want you to be one of those perverted young women who become models for pornographers. Now lay down across my knee."She smiled and wondered what it would be like to be a model for a pornographer. Then she laid down across her father's knee, her titties hanging low, her ass cheeks spreading wide. "Oh, Daddy," she begged in as sweet a voice as possible, "don't strap me too hard. Please? PLEASE? Don't hit me too hard with. The phone in my head went off an hour after I made the request. "There is a courier on his way to Florida. He will be leaving at first light. He will be carrying a package for you. Be in the parking lot of the race track convenience store on long street in Williams around 10am. Look for a bright red Ford Pickup truck. He will drop off the package. He has a photograph of you, so he will make visual identification. If you aren't there, he will not wait." It was a message not a conversational invitation.Since there was no power on in the foreclosed house, I left to sit in a waffle house. The Waffle had coffee and lots of free electrons in the air. It took a little longer to charge fully since I was burning some energy just sitting up. That didn't count the energy used to drink and process coffee. The point was I sat there two hours, then move across town to an early morning cafe for more coffee and more energy. I could have plugged directly into the wall for a charge, but that would look.
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