I invited Carol to lie over the back of a low-back armchair. Nervousness showed on her face but she was hitching up her dress as she came and presente... her arse to me. Smack! Smack! I spanked her, I fondled her and I frigged her. I spanked her again. Carol’s moans told me I was getting the rhythm and mix right, but I had another trick to play. I’d packed Carol’s vibrators and now was the time to use one. I turned it on and she knew what was to come; so would anyone listening. The buzz seemed. Hunger, sexual hunger. Anger. Fear.Odd, though. The raw emotions weren’t directed at her. They were directed at a little boy, maybe five or six years old, across the street riding his tricycle.Shit! Pedophile!Linda saw a white panel van pull up beside the small boy. A man burst from the car, ran around to the rear of the van and opened the double doors. He had on a ski-mask and gloves. Pedophile guy snatched the child, picking him up and covering his mouth to prevent screams from attracting. More

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