Smitty punched some buttons in front of him to try and get an ID on the ship. After a second he answered Cranston's question. "That was Red's Little B..." The Rascal?" Cranston was more confused than ever. "If that's the Rascal, then who's driving the bus? The kids? And why are they violating the restricted area?" We got no choice, Jer." Smitty said with a tone of regret."I know, I know," Cranston depressed the transmit button under his thumb."HQ, HQ, this is forty-two. We have a breach in area. "If in future, you ever feel those urges and you find yourself playing withthat disgusting little thing of yours, I want you to think of this. I wantyou to fantasise about the vision you can see in that mirror. I want you tofantasise that your Mistress is standing behind you in her beautiful sexy bootsand she's thoroughly enjoying every second, of fucking that sweet little slaghole of yours. And woe betide you if I discover that you're fantasising aboutanything else. Do you hear me slave!" "Yes. More

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