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”“That's why I ran away,” Fred said, looking up at Jim then back at Carla. “I hated where they made me live.”“I guess I'm running away too,” I added.“Where did you say you was heading?” Jim asked.“Bolinas.”“Bolinas...where the hell is that?”“Northern California...just above San Francisco.”Jim nodded, took a deep weary sigh, then sat down on one of the chairs and took out another cigarette.“You won't make it in that truck. They'll catch you.” Jim said. “You might have to hide out somewhere 'till you can get another truck or change license plates.”“You're probably right.” I looked at Carla.“Where can we hide?” Carla asked.I glanced over at the truck parked by the gas pump. I knew kidnapping a woman was considered big news and there would be interviews with a frantic mother and soon everyone would be on the lookout for me. Carla's face and the sketch of me would be on television and in newspapers. I looked at Carla's frightened face and wondered if I had made a huge mistake taking her,. Looking down I could see the outline of my handprint on her ass. Anya squealed and I felt her whole body tense in response to the slap. ‘Quiet.’ ‘Yes, Sir.’ I slapped her again, just as hard as the first time, and Anya squealed again—she was trying hard to stifle her squealing, but the surprise and pain of my spanking was enough that she couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t remain complete silent. Her ass was turning red as I slapped her a third, fourth and fifth time. ‘Will you…’ slap, ‘Remember…’ slap, ‘To do…’ slap, ‘As I say…’ slap, ‘Next…’ slap, ‘Time?’ slap. ‘Yes, Sir. Yes, I will.’ My hand slipped down between the tingling cheeks of her ass, my fingertips touching the swollen lips of her pussy and making her moan once more. My fingertips pushed a little further and slipped between her lips, feeling the slick wetness of her slit and making Anya gasp. ‘Go now, and shave.’ ‘Yes, Sir.’ Off she went, doing her Master’s bidding. I could hear water splashing and imagined careful.
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